The Alleyway

I was sixteen in the spring of 1943, and like many at that age I was impressionable and somewhat skeptical about the new world I was entering as a young adult. A person who made a major impression on me at that age was my co-worker Tim O'Neill.

We worked at the Capitol Theater on Main Street in Springfield, he was the night doorman and I was chief usher. While I was just embarking on my life in the world of work, Tim was near the end, having taken the doorman's job as a way of making a little extra money after retirement. There were often times at the theater that were slow, such as when the crowd was watching the movie or when the two of us were closing up the theater after the movie-goers had left. During these times he would tell me about his long and adventurous life, including interesting tales of the occult and the strange world of the Irish mystical traditions. These were often very fanciful tales, which he always insisted were true, but which I never really believed. But then one night he said something quite remarkable.

"Aye, Haskin," he began in his thick Irish brogue, "life is full surprises, it is. Tonight ye shall see one!" Tim pointed across the street towards the alleyway that separated Brigham's, a woman's clothing shop, from the Union Bank and Trust Company. "You may think it's just an alley, me lad, but magical things may happen there, if you were to traverse it at the right moment." I watched his expression closely as he suggested this, but saw no evidence of the twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes that he usually had when he was serving up a bit of blarney.

"Tonight, after closing," the old Irishman solemnly stated, "I will cross the street, go down that alley, and never be seen again!" I had no idea what he was talking about, and simply left to check the cleanliness of the restrooms, convinced that he was pulling my leg, although I couldn't see the humor in it. In any case, I didn't have much time or inclination to contemplate what Tim said.

It was a Wednesday, the day the movie of the week would change, so after the box office closed we had to change the posters. The new film debuting was "The Edge of Darkness" starring Errol Flynn and Ann Sheridan. I turned off the lights over the marquee with an indoor switch and then carried the film canisters from the projection booth down to the lobby. At that point we left the theater, and when I turned from locking the front entrance, I saw that Tim was no longer beside me. He had crossed the street, and I caught just a glimpse of him as he disappeared down the alley.

Of course I had to follow him, still wondering what kind of prank my co-worker was trying to pull. As I crossed the street, I felt a brisk wind blowing through the alley, although the night had been a calm up to that point. About half-way down the alleyway, I looked behind me and saw to my astonishment that the Capitol Theater was gone, and in its place was a futuristic tower like something from a science fiction book. The sight of it frightened me to the point that I ran away from it in the opposite direction, ending up at the end of the alleyway.

I was standing behind Brigham's, which now appeared to be an insurance company, and there was a small restaurant back there. On a outdoor table sat a newspaper, but not the Springfield Union I had read that morning. Instead it was something called The Union-News. My mind reeled as I saw the date - May 12, 1998. Looking up from the paper, I saw my reflection in a window, except my hair had gone grey and I was somewhat overweight!

From somewhere I heard Tim O'Neill shouting, "Go back, lad! Go back, before you get trapped in the future and miss your life!" I raced in a panic back down the alley, and emerged once again in the spring of 1943. The Capitol Theater, Brigham's and the Union Trust were all back like they belonged. Slowly I started down Main towards Victoria Square to catch my bus back to Hood Street in Pine Point.

I never saw Tim O'Neill again.