The wedding

The time machine flew across the sky at a dizzying speed that had Aaron seeing lines in all colors across the spectrum, clouds flying by at quantum speed, the sun and the moon zipping by. And then smoke billowed up from the machine in front of him, he felt the descent, and when the dust settled, found himself in a field of sycamores and redwoods, dark orange clay, dark green leaves, and bright blue sky.

Mount Tam. So far, so good, the machine hadn’t screwed it up this time like all the others. But what about the time? Aaron stepped out of the machine and wandered over to the clearing, looked out onto the field, and saw it –

Yes, he’d landed in the right point of time. When the damned machine decided to work instead of sending him off to the bullfights in Seville, it worked beautifully. And there they were – the flower children, the beat-up Beetles, the banana-seat bikes, the barefoot bride with the flower wreath on her hair, the barefoot groom with long hair, a beard, and tie-dyed psychedelic shirt – barefoot, too. And the bongo drums and the chanting. Yep, he’d landed in June 1969.

He walked over to the crowd, knowing he’d be invisible. He’d petitioned the council for an Anonymity Pass, so he could observe without participating. Given the circumstances, they’d agreed.

He walked right over to the minister, wearing a toga, thin-framed spectacles, and a white cross around his neck. The minister was reciting a love poem. Joni Mitchell stood behind him, strumming her guitar to his rhythm recitation. And then he got to the vows.

“Do you, Penelope Pringlehoeffer,” he said, swaying left to right, “take this heavenly dued, Austin Aardvark, to be your main squeeze and love partner until you both head for cool other far-out places?”

“As our Goddess Judy witnesses this … I say yes, oh lord,” Penelope – Mother, Aaron meant. His mother. How beautiful she looked, standing there with her smooth skin, the willowy look, the long feathered blonde hair …

“And do you, Austin Aardvark, take this heavenly maiden, Penelope Pringlehoeffer, to be your main squeeze and love partner until you both head for cool other far-out places?”

“As our Goddess Judy witnesses this … I say yes, oh lord,” his father said. Austin, if only I could reach out, plead with you never to get behind the wheel of a car, at least not after drinking three gin martinis …