Eternal Love

There must be something wrong with me. I know there are a lot of people, who can appreciate or even admire modern art but I just can't. As we walked through the exhibition, I realized that this was actually the first time that I had been here at the Museum of Modern Art. I've never had any interest to come before and if it weren't for him, I wouldn't even be here now. But it's understandable that he is interested in art. Rich people like to collect artifacts and put them in their possession after all. It's just that why something modern?

I looked at one of the exhibits and wondered, who would even pay for having this. I looked at Jack, who was observing everything around him with interest but in a way, as if he was still looking for something that he hadn't seen yet.

"Do you like coming here?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied, while still gazing around in search of something. "But this time I just came on a whim. That's why I didn't ask you to buy the tickets in advance which would have been your job," he said and I had to agree with him. It also would have been a lot easier for me to buy it online than to wait in the queue and buy it in person. Not to mention that if I had known about this in advance, I would have found an excuse to stay in the car outside to save myself from seeing all this... stuff.

I followed him to another exhibition room, where he vaguely passed by different exhibitions, and then he finally stopped in front of an installation of... clocks.

Now, don't get me wrong. I have nothing against modern artists. But to put up two clocks on a wall, which look like they've been bought in a supermarket, and call it art, is beyond me. However, he clearly didn't share my view as he was looking at them as one would look at the sunset. I didn't want to make fun of him because he likes something I don't but I couldn't help but tease him a little.

"Now I get why you didn't want me to stay outside. This is a reminder for me to hurry up, find the information I want, then leave because time doesn't stop for anyone."

"This is my favorite," he said and nodded towards the clocks. "For me, this represents eternal love. A love that survives through the ages."

I looked at the clocks again and this time I realized their title is Perfect Lovers*­. I guess that's why there are two of them. But apart from that... I feel like I'm in a philosophy lesson, where I have to convince everyone that the table in front of them doesn't exist.

"Quite poetic," I told him, and I also thought that it was a little bit melodramatic as well, but didn't say it out loud.

"It is. And sad," he added. "You know, the artist created this for his lover, who was dying. He even wrote about it in a letter."

"And what did he write?" I asked, not really out of curiosity but out of convenience.

"I won't say it. It's too cheesy." I looked at him as he was still watching the clocks and suddenly remembered how I thought he looked lonely. Perhaps, his loneliness is due to not finding someone he loves.

"Do you miss someone?"

"No. But he surely did," he said, probably referring to the artist. "That's why they're set to the same time like two hearts beating in unison to the same rhythm for all eternity."

"And what if the battery dies in one of them?"

"Then the battery is changed and they're set to the same time before putting them on display again."

I almost laughed at this thinking he was joking but his serious expression made me realize he wasn't.

"I didn't think you were a romantic person."

"That's irrelevant," he said abruptly. "The point I'm trying to make is maybe you're right. Maybe there is a reason why you're here."

"And that is?"

"No idea," he said and turned to face me. "But I've checked my father's watch which is identical to yours. It really does look the same as the one you're wearing. Just not as old."

"Do you know where your father bought it?"

"I don't. He got it from my grandfather."

"Is he alive? He might tell you if there's something unusual about the watch."

"Unfortunately, he isn't anymore," he said and I felt my last bit of hope being crushed as soon as it emerged.

"I don't think it would be a good idea to ask your father about it."

"Don't worry, I wasn't gonna," he said confidently and stepped away from the clocks. I guess he had enough of looking at it. "But I've read a few things here and there," he continued. "Most of the theorists agree that traveling to different points of time may have an effect on the traveler's future or the people close to him."

"So, you mean if I earn a bunch of money by working for you, the future me will one day wake up to a fatter bank account than before?" I pondered and even stroked my chin a little for a comedic effect.

"It's your life. You should take it more seriously," he said and I could not help but feel that I angered him somehow as he quickened his pace which made me hard to follow him.

"Who said I don't take it seriously?" I asked as we stepped out of the building.

I really must have pissed him off as he didn't say anything for the whole duration of the ride back home. It made me even forget to worry about what would happen if his father saw it was not me driving his son home as I should but vice versa.

"Is there anything else you discovered?" I asked when I finally had enough of the silence surrounding us. He stepped out of the car and slammed its door harder than usual or so it seemed in the dead silence emanating from his home.

"Not really. Just different paradoxes related to time travel."

"Namely?"

"For example, all the bizarre things that might happen if you run into yourself during your travel. Or if you happen to meet your parents, other relatives, or friends. Haven't you seen Back to the Future?"

"I did," I replied as I followed him in a daze. Up until now, the possibility of this happening didn't even occur to me. Is this even possible? That I exist in two bodies at the same time. And if it is, can we both live our lives separately at the same time without having any side effects? Not that I want to stay here of course, but the mere idea of this intrigues me. Then something occurred to me.

"I've no idea whether this is true but in any case please, don't try to find me. I mean the past me."

He stopped suddenly in the doorway and turned to face me.

"Why? I would have two people to work for me. Come to think of it, it isn't such a bad idea after all," he grinned savagely. I felt like he was only joking but one can never know.

"Don't you dare! You said so yourself. It will have consequences."

"And what if I don't care?" He took a step forward while saying this which made me feel vulnerable to the point I wanted to run away.

"The consequences don't necessarily affect only me. They might also have an effect on the people around me, remember?" I asked in a last attempt to convince him in case he was serious. But at the same time, I couldn't dismiss the thought of their house being sold and rebuilt and eventually rented out to people, including my family.

He must have seen how worried I was since he suddenly changed his mind.

"Whatever. I don't care what you did or how you looked like," he said, shrugging his shoulders as if it really had no meaning to him since I am only his employee after all. 

I don't know why but this hurt a little.

*"Untitled" (Perfect Lovers) (1991) is an artwork by Félix González-Torres