Time leap

The ambulance, accompanied by a police patrol car, sped through Nairobi’s busy, congested streets. It frequently changed lanes to maneuver past the cars, whose drivers largely ignored the ambulance’s flashing lights and urgent wail. The ambulance was carrying two unconscious men toward Kenyatta National Hospital, Nairobi’s largest medical facility. The men aboard, dressed in old-fashioned safari suits evoking early-twentieth-century explorers, seemed as if they had just stepped out of a classic Tarzan movie set.

Earlier that day, a park ranger discovered a nearly pristine, old, khaki-colored Land Rover from the 1960s parked in a remote part of Nairobi National Park. As he approached the vehicle, he found two occupants asleep inside, both dressed in vintage safari attire reminiscent of colonial explorers. His initial thought was that they might be YouTubers imitating old-time white hunters, adopting a retro persona for the camera. However, the park, home to dangerous wildlife like lions and hyenas, was no place for inexperienced thrill-seekers chasing fame. Recognizing the potential peril, the ranger prepared to warn them about the hidden risks in the park’s wild environment. Unfortunately, he could not rouse them from their sleep, prompting him to call emergency services.

Though they were unconscious and unresponsive, their condition wasn’t critical. Their vital signs were strong and resembled deep REM sleep rather than a coma, which baffled the hospital’s medical staff and prompted them to call their senior doctor, Dr. Jashua Omondi.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Omondi asked the junior doctor who had attended to the patients.

“Their EEGs resemble those of a sleeping person, but they don’t respond to our calls and remain asleep,” the junior explained nervously to his boss.

Doubting the junior doctor’s diagnosis, Dr. Omondi examined the patients himself. Upon review, he confirmed the junior doctor’s assessment was correct. Concerned, he gently shook each patient to wake them, but they did not respond and remained in a deep, sleep-like state.

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” Officer Mwangi, who came with the patients, asked.

“They seem to be sleeping, but they are not responding to our calls. I am puzzled that they haven’t woken up yet,” Dr. Omondi said.

Officer Mwangi, lacking medical expertise, forced a polite smile.

After a moment of thought, Dr. Omondi turned to the junior doctor and said, “Give them a glucose IV.”

The junior doctor nodded and hurried out of the bay to get the IV.

“Who are they, Officer Mwangi?” Dr. Omondi asked.

The police officer looked at the two unconscious men briefly before speaking. “The likely name of this man is John Cavendish, and that one is Marcus Canary,” he said, pointing to each as he spoke.

Dr. Omondi paused briefly before asking, “Why did you say ‘likely’?”

“Because of their odd documents.”

“What do you mean?”

“The only form of identification they have is their driver’s licenses, which we found in their wallets. However, these licenses are quite outdated; in fact, I would call them antiques.”

“I’m having trouble understanding. Could you give a more detailed explanation, Officer Mwangi?”

“They both have driver’s licenses issued in the 1960s in Rhodesia,” Officer Mwangi said.

“Rhodesia? Do you mean modern-day Zimbabwe?” Dr. Omondi asked, confused.

“In fact, the documents bear the Rhodesian government’s emblem.”

“Are they real?”

“Since they look brand new, I don’t think they’re real. I guess they’re YouTubers posing as two white colonial adventurers.”

“Interesting!”

“They each also carry a few hundred Rhodesian pounds in their wallets, which appear to be genuine.”

“Rhodesian pounds?” Dr. Omondi repeated, confused. “Where did they find them?”

“They likely bought them on eBay or Temu.”

“Temu?”

“You can buy whatever you want from Temu.”

“I find myself unable to understand these people. It appears they are living entirely in a fantasy world, detached from reality, and the internet consistently reinforces this misguided perception,” Dr. Omondi said.

“Some make a ton of money just by creating content on YouTube.”

“Tell me about it. Some individuals are profiting from distributing false medical information, endangering people’s health,” Dr. Omondi said with disdain.

Officer Mwangi nodded in agreement.

The junior doctor interrupted the conversation between Dr. Omondi and Officer Mwangi and reported, “Dr. Omondi, patients are awake. The IV glucose worked.”

“Thank you,” Dr. Omondi said, turning toward the patient bays as Officer Mwangi followed.

The man, identified as John Cavendish, sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes flickering with confusion as he took in his new surroundings. The unfamiliar, sterile smell of disinfectants and the faint hum of distant medical equipment only deepened his confusion. As he looked around, he asked aloud, “Where am I?” His gaze then shifted to the black doctor in blue hospital scrubs, a stethoscope around his neck, and to the approaching police officer. Still confused, he stared at them, his brow furrowing, and asked, “Who are you?”

“You are at Kenyatta National Hospital, and I am Dr. Omondi. This is Officer Mwangi.”

“A Black doctor?”

“Pardon me?” Dr. Omondi objected to the remark.

While inspecting his unusual surroundings, he either didn’t notice the doctor or ignored him.

“Is your name John Cavendish?” Officer Mwangi asked.

“Yes, that’s my name,” he responded, still observing the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Is your friend’s name Marcus Canary?”

“I’m Marcus! Where are we?” Marcus said, still lying on his bed.

“You are in a hospital,” Officer Mwangi replied.

“Why a hospital?”

“This morning, a park ranger saw your Land Rover with you asleep inside. Concerned about possible danger from wild animals, he tried to wake you but couldn’t. Unsure how to proceed, he contacted us, the police. Because we also couldn’t wake you, we took you to the hospital for your safety,” Officer Mwangi explained.

“Nonsense. We weren’t asleep,” Marcus objected.

Their chat with the police officer was interrupted by the ringtone of Dr. Omondi’s phone, which was playing ‘Over the Horizon.’ John and Marcus instinctively turned toward the sound. To their surprise, they saw him reach into his pocket, pull out the slim device, hold it to his ear, and start talking. They acted as if they’d never seen a mobile phone or heard a ringtone.

“What is that?” John asked, pointing at the device the doctor held and spoke into.

“What?” Officer Mwangi asked.

“What’s that? What is that device he is talking on?” John rephrased his question, pointing at the doctor’s mobile phone.

“Do you mean this?” Dr. Omondi said as his phone conversation ended, holding his phone up.

“Yes, what is that?” Marcus asked, curious.

“This is my mobile phone.”

“What is a mobile phone?” Marcus asked.

“Are you serious?” Dr. Omondi exclaimed.

“We’ve never seen a mobile phone,” Marcus said.

“It’s practically a wireless telephone one can carry,” Dr. Omondi explained, watching his patients.

“Can I see it?” John asked this time.

Still thinking they were playing with him, Dr. Omondi handed him his mobile phone.

While examining it, John jolted as the screen lit up, nearly dropping the phone. “What just happened?” he asked, bewildered.

“Nothing important,” Dr. Omondi said, watching the men’s odd behavior as if they had never seen a smartphone. “Its screen lit up for a moment.”

“Screen?” John uttered.

“Let me show it,” Dr. Omondi said. He grabbed his phone, unlocked the screen, opened the gallery, and showed them a few photos and a short video of his family.

Their reaction was odd, as if they had never seen such a thing, like boys mesmerized by a magician’s tricks.

Dr. Omondi exchanged a subtle, questioning glance with Officer Mwangi, silently signaling his curiosity about the patients’ peculiar behavior. He was eager to understand the underlying cause of their strange actions, wondering what might trigger such conduct. Suddenly, a notion arose: could these men be telling the truth and come from a different timeline or era altogether? With that thought forming, he hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you know what year it is?”

“1969,” they both said in unison.

“1969!” Officer Mwangi said, laughing. “It’s 2026.”

“No way, it is 1969,” John Cavendish insisted.

“Today is July 30, 2026,” Dr. Omondi said.

He looked at the doctor in disbelief and said, “Why should I believe you?”

Believing they were acting, Officer Mwangi ignored his remark and asked, “Are you YouTubers?”

“What is a YouTuber?” they asked in unison.

“Do you mean you don’t know what YouTube is?” Officer Mwangi asked suspiciously.

“No, I’ve never heard of it,” John said.

“Me, either. What is YouTube?” Marcus asked.

“YouTube is a platform for publishing your videos,” Dr. Omondi replied.

“What is a video?” Marcus asked.

“A video is a type of film, a motion picture. I just showed you a short video of my family,” Dr. Omondi said.

“I see,” Marcus said, thinking.

Though he still suspected they were acting, Officer Mwangi asked, “Where are you from?”

“Rhodesia,” Marcus replied promptly.

“But Rhodesia no longer exists,” Officer Mwangi said.

“How come?” John asked, staring at the officer.

“Rhodesia’s government has changed, and it is now called Zimbabwe,” Officer Mwangi said.

“From when?” Marcus asked.

“If I don’t make a mistake, the change occurred in 1980.”

“Are you playing with us?” John asked.

“No, I’m not. How about you? Are you playing with us?” Officer Mwangi asked.

“No, we don’t intend to play with anyone,” John replied.

“What is your business in Kenya?”

“We are botanists studying exotic African plants,” John replied.

“Yes, we are botanists,” Marcus confirmed.

“Why are you impersonating old colonial explorers?” Officer Mwangi asked.

“Why should we impersonate anyone?” John protested.

Dr. Omondi raised his hand, paused Officer Mwangi, and said, “They found you sleeping in an antique Land Rover, wearing outdated attire, with old money and documents issued by a nonexistent country. Officer Mwangi wants to know who you really are and what your business was in the National Park?”

After a moment of silent staring at each other, Marcus said, “John, tell them what we encountered there.”

John nodded to his friend, and after a moment of thought, he said, “Yesterday, when we were driving in the national park, we suddenly saw a large flying object that cast a shadow over our car, and then, at an unbelievable speed, moved above a patch of tall elephant grass and descended somewhere there. Though we were scared, we drove there to investigate the phenomenon.”

“Are you saying you saw a UFO?” Officer Mwangi asked.

“UFO?”

“Unidentified flying object.”

“Yes, I’m sure it was a flying saucer,” Marcus said.

“What happened next?” Officer Mwangi asked enthusiastically.

“As we approached the patch of tall elephant grass, we saw a large, round, glowing metallic object, twice the size of a school bus, hovering about two yards above the ground. As we got closer, it shot a blinding beam of light at us. The light was so bright it enveloped us like a thick fog. To avoid crashing, I slammed on the brakes and stopped. But I don’t remember anything else after that until I opened my eyes here at your hospital.”

“It’s exactly what happened as John said,” Marcus confirmed the narrative.

After listening to their story, Dr. Omondi and Officer Mwangi exchanged glances, each silently assessing the other’s reaction in the tense situation, wondering whether they were really from the 1960s.

“Did you say it was 1969 when you came to the national park?” Dr. Omondi asked.

“Yes,” John said.

Marcus just nodded.

“I’m afraid to say you somehow time-traveled into the future,” Dr. Omondi said.

“Impossible!” John protested.

“Nonsense,” Marcus said.

Dr. Omondi pulled the curtain around their bay open, pointed to a large, thin, rectangular black object mounted on the wall, and asked, “Gentlemen, do you know what this is?”

They looked at the unfamiliar object and said in unison, “No!”

Then Dr. Omondi turned on the screen with the remote control in his hand and looked at their reactions.

As soon as the high-definition TV’s screen came to life, showing live Tour de France racing, they jolted in shock. Both men were mesmerized by the size and quality of the picture and couldn’t take their eyes off it. Finally, John said, “What is this?”

“This is a flat-screen television.”

“Television?” Marcus murmured.

“But this is so large and in color!” John asked.

“And its quality is better than the real thing,” Marcus added.

“This is the descendant of the television you had in the 1960s,” Dr. Omondi said.

They were so mesmerized by the picture that they didn’t respond at all.

“Gentlemen, you are in 2026 now. I guess you somehow leaped 57 years into the future,” Dr. Omondi said.

John pinched his thigh and winced in pain. “It can’t be real!” he exclaimed.

“How about our families?” Marcus asked.

“They must think we are dead,” John replied.

After a moment of silence, Dr. Omondi asked John, “Do you have children?”

“Just a son,” he said, sighing.

“What is his name?”

“Michael.”

“Michael Cavendish?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Omondi took out his smartphone and searched for the name. Soon, six results appeared for ‘Michael Cavendish.’ “John, how old was your son when you left him?”

“Eight.”

“He should be 65 years old now.”

John frowned upon hearing it. He couldn’t make sense of what he heard.

Dr. Omondi quickly dismissed five of the names because they were too young, but one was the right age. He found the man’s biography and read, “Professor Michael Cavendish, political scientist at the Australian National University in Canberra, Australia.” He then enlarged the man’s photo and showed it to John.

John stared at the color photograph for what felt like an eternity. His eyes lingered on the image, trying to make sense of what had happened. He still couldn’t fully grasp it. In some inexplicable way, he felt a strange resemblance between the picture and his late father. Seeing his son’s picture, now older than he was, brought a flood of sadness and nostalgia, making his eyes well with tears.

Later, they discovered Marcus’s son, Malcolm Canary, an accomplished engineer, and his daughter, Lisa Canary, a retired teacher and mother of three adult children, who were Marcus’s grandchildren. The air hung thick with nostalgia and sadness over lost time as memories of better days and missed opportunities flooded their minds. After a long moment of reflection, John broke the silence and asked, “What should we do now to see our families?”

“I don’t know!” Dr. Omondi replied. “We should probably call the authorities, but I’m not sure which government department to contact!”

“We can start by calling my commanding officer,” Officer Mwangi suggested.

Dr. Omondi nodded and said, “Yes, please call your commanding officer.”

Officer Mwangi took his work-issued smartphone from his belt but hesitated. “I don’t know how to convince my commanding officer. He won’t believe me.”

“Tell him the story, and if he doesn’t buy it, pass the phone to me,” Dr. Omondi suggested.

Officer Mwangi nodded and dialed his commanding officer’s direct phone number.