Time, Space, Other Stuff

"I wish to travel through time," the old man said, sitting on his stoop.

"That's easy.  Just keep sitting there and you'll do it without much trouble."  The dapper-looking man stood leaning on his cane, the obvious 'I-have-lots-of-stops-to-make-today' pose.  He seemed to be resisting the urge to check his watch.  "You may even make it all the way to tomorrow in but a few hours."

A snort of impatience escaped the old man's nose.  "You know that's not what I meant, sir, and to pretend you didn't is a waste of time for the both of us."

"Ah, but there's where you're wrong, Mister Creely."  The dapper-looking man's smile could have stretched across the street and blocked traffic.  "Time is only a concern for those who can't move around it, and that is a talent which I possess.  A talent which, if I'm not mistaken, is what caused you to contact me in the first place."

"So you do know how to get around time."  Mister Creely looked smug.  "I knew you did, even if you wouldn't come right out and say so over the phone."

"Of course not!  Phones are not to be trusted with this sort of information."  The dapper-looking man's smile stretched even wider, though it was clear from a slight twitch that he clearly felt as if he'd lost the last exchange.  "Nor, I should add, are front lawns especially the best area to have this sort of conversation."

"Too bad.  I've heard all about you, so I'll thank you to stay exactly where you are while we conduct our business."  This statement was punctuated by a glint of gunmetal in Creely's hand.  The blanket over his legs concealed the rest.

This provoked laughter from the dapper-looking man.  "Very good, very good!  It wouldn't do you any good if I intended to do you harm, but I'm glad to see that you're the clever sort of fellow who knows to do his homework nonetheless.  Well then, I'm all ears, Mister Creely.  What do you propose to offer me in return for my secrets?"