Corey Kluber: Accidental Time Traveler – Part I

What Happened if Corey Kluber Fell Into a Time Traveling Adventure?

Author’s note: The following, as I’m sure you’ll realize quickly, is a work of fiction. It exists because we know very little of Corey Kluber, in fact I’ve yet to find a single interview of any substance he has done. I’ve decided to see what it would be like if Kluber, as I imagine him to be, were to be pulled into a sudden adventure through time, and see how he handles it. And let’s be honest, the winter is cold and long and I was bored, so this sprung into being. So enjoy it. There could be more.

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The sun was midway through its daily climb, still hidden behind the trees to the east, speckling the broad expanse of green grass with gold. Corey Kluber stood on his deck surveying his lawn, watching his dog Jasper chase a rabbit off the grass. It was Jasper’s territory, set out by his piss on the same trees, every day. A  smile tickled the corners of Corey’s mouth as he sipped his coffee. The offseason was a strange time after six months in Cleveland plus nearly two months down in Arizona. He hadn’t had a real day off since February with workouts, pitcher’s meetings, starts, throwing programs and charity work and suddenly, nothing. Amanda had taken the kids, one to daycare and the other to Mommy and Me, giving him free reign of the house for the morning. She understood his need to reconnect with home after half a year away, she was a good baseball player’s wife. She understood the game. A pitcher is by nature a solitary creature within a team, whether on the mound, in the bullpen with a select few, or at home among family. She knew he enjoyed the quiet and solitude of a his own personal castle when he could.

Kluber gazed about the yard, ragged on the edges since he’d had to hire a landscaping company over the summer with all the rain Alabama had gotten. The deck, practically a sweeping terrace at this point after the addition last summer, was in need of a fresh paint, the white was chipped from Jasper and the kids’ playing, and the weather had been savage at times. A glance up at the house behind him reminded him of the window frames needing painting, and some of the bricks had begun to crack from the weather. He’d have to call someone for that one.  A good mow and a weed whack to start, and the hedges on the west end could use a trimming. Maybe he should replant them, a couple were in the early stages of death already, replete with brown spots and scraggly branches.They stopped Jasper though – his dog stalked the hedgerow looking confused, his quarry having disappeared in the bush. Kluber didn’t understand why he didn’t hang out on the other side of the yard, so open to the forest beyond, plenty of romping room for the beast. The German Shepherd, so big already for only being a two-year old,  turned his head toward Kluber and cocked his head expectantly, drawing another half-smile from his master. Kluber let out a loud whistle, and Jasper covered the hundred yards in just seconds, taking the stairs in a couple bounds before skidding to a stop at Kluber’s feet.

Jun 16, 2013; Cleveland, OH, USA; Cleveland Indians starting pitcher Corey Kluber (28) celebrates after his defense turned a double play in the sixth inning against the Washington Nationals at Progressive Field. Mandatory Credit: David Richard-USA TODAY Sports

“Good dog,” Kluber said, scratching that spot behind Jasper’s ear. He made his way inside with Jasper padding just behind, passing the piled up letters of praise from fans, his teammates and other league people for his incredible 2014 – 21 wins, 3.12 ERA and a playoff berth for the Tribe. He had a meeting with the front office in a few weeks to discuss an extension, he should probably give his agent a call in the next couple days. But not today, today was for making his home his own again, maybe making Amanda and the kids some dinner.

With Jasper padding along behind him, Kluber put his coffee mug in the sink and took the stairs to the garage to make sure the mower was running. The yard shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours, and Masty said he’d be in town later in the day, that could be fun. The big Jamaican had called yesterday saying he was on his way from Florida to Texas, said he wanted to go fishing. It was Corey’s first couple days back though, he’d rather not spend a perfect day like this on the water. Maybe he could convince Masterson to try golf.

The garage was clean and tidy as he’d left it, not even dust to speak of. Tools on their hooks, workbench clear and his yard equipment arranged as he’d left it. The John Deere sat ready, gleaming like the day she was bought. Good thing Amanda thought ahead and filled up the gas canister. Kluber hit the garage opener, causing Jasper to run in frantic circles before Corey calmed him, and wheeled the mower out. A quick check showed it was all in order, so he cranked her right up and headed toward the back yard.

Twenty minutes later and Corey was deep into mowing, working his way across toward those hedges in perfect, orderly lines when without warning, a loud bang came from the mower’s engine. As Kluber sat there the air filled with sooty black smoke, and he leapt off in alarm.

“What the hell…” Kluber muttered, crouching to look at the machine. He looked it up and down in disbelief – the gearbox was in shreds, pieces of gear jabbing through the motor like they’d been launched from a cannon, and one of the pistons was lying on the ground by the mower. It was impossible.Kluber grumbled audibly, hoping the oil didn’t leak into the grass. The gulf coast had enough contamination without this. He tried pushing the thing, but the wheels were stuck, jammed in gear and the powertrain looked twisted to hell. Somehow the entire mower had gone to hell in a split second, torn apart from the inside. He stood for a minute, considering his options, when in the distance he heard a yelping and barking – Jasper going crazy again. Sounded like he’d found his way behind those hedges , hoping to catch that pesky rabbit.

“Jasper! Here boy!” he bellowed, but the yelps didn’t cease or come any closer. A little gap in the bushes was just visible, and Kluber made for it to get his dog to stop going insane.

A heap of branches and half-decayed leaves from years of raking greeted Kluber on the other side of the hedges, a pathway of Jasper’s making forged straight through to the shadows of the deeper forest beyond. The dog’s cries came from somewhere off to the left, and as he looked Kluber caught what looked like a pulsing light through the trees. That’s strange, he thought, maybe the mutt found a fire before it got crazy. Good dog.

Kluber picked his way through the heap of detritus but Jasper’s worn path veered off to the right, away from the light in the woods. Dense underbrush greeted him, a thicket of brambles and blackberry bushes. The thorns and branches snagged on his work shirt as he pushed through, one catching him on the lip and drawing a soft curse, but no blood. He forced his way through the brambles and came into the forest proper, old growth trees that drew him when he bought the property creating a field of great sentinels as well as easy walking. As he moved through the woods, he got a better look at the light, realizing it couldn’t be a fire, the light was too pure and white, almost fluorescent, though it was plainly what drew the dog. Peering hard at what looked like the source he spied what looked like a clearing ahead with the sun lancing down among the light. Strange, he thought, on his treks back here hunting for Jasper in the past he didn’t remember anything like that.

“JASPER!” he shouted again, exasperated. The dog’s cries had been growing louder during his trek, but now the woods were silent save a dull hum that seemed to come from all directions. The light was gone though, a few flashes for a moment, and then nothing. He stopped and peered around, apprehension growing in his gut, worry for his dog and wariness over what was out here. Something gleamed in the direction the light had come from, something metallic that didn’t belong among the trees. Kluber couldn’t get a good look, but it seemed to be in that strange clearing. He made for it.

He reached the tree line and peered into the gap in the forest, taken aback by what was before him. Or rather, what wasn’t.. In a perfect circle about 30 feet across, there was nothing, just packed earth. The sky was visible above, and all around the perimeter branches that would have jutted into the area were shorn off perfectly evenly, razor smooth and the ground was bare, no underbrush either the bed of mosses and ferns ended at the clearing’s edge abruptly. Looking up, the leaves and branches above were likewise cut in a perfect curve up to where the sky opened up, like a great bowl had been dropped upside down. Trees, bushes, everything just gone.

Aug 6, 2013; Cleveland, OH, USA; Cleveland Indians starting pitcher Corey Kluber (28) watches in the seventh inning against the Detroit Tigers at Progressive Field. Mandatory Credit: David Richard-USA TODAY Sports

The oddity of the clearing paled before what sat in its center. In the middle of the clearing was a silver chair resting on a thick square base, like what you might find in a dentist’s office, only bright chrome. A thick ring of the same metal ran upward from its base, at its peak six feet from the ground. The chair looked to be able to fit a normally sized man, with armrests covered in blinking lights. It was like something out of a sci-fi nerd’s fan fiction, Kluber considered. He still had to find his dog, and the steaming pile of crap on the far side of the clearing gave him a hint where Jasper had gotten off to. He made for it.

“Stop, please!” A reedy voice pierced the uncommonly quiet air of Kluber’s newfound clearing. He turned to the source, a man shorter than himself in what looked like white coveralls, balding with a moustache that would have made Rollie Fingers jealous stepped from behind the chair. If it weren’t for the silver boots running up to his knees and what looked like a kid’s ray gun in his hand, he wouldn’t have looked out of place at a high-end mechanic’s garage.

“Please stay away from the temporal borer,” the man said again, his thin voice filling the clearing.

“Excuse me?” Kluber stared, confused, “I’m just looking for my dog. What did you do to my woods?” The newcomer’s hand clutched the strange tool tightly, and Kluber felt uneasy – he held it like a weapon, like a pistol. “Look bud, I don’t want any trouble, even if you did wreck a bunch of my land, I just want my dog.”

“Your dog? Ah, the canine, of course,” the man’s hands dropped, though Kluber’s guard didn’t. The man let out a strange whistle, and from the woods Jasper gamboled out with that goofy look on his face, panting happily.

“Jasper! Here boy!” He came to his master and rubbed his head on Corey’s hand, trying to get a pet. Kluber pulled the dog close, tussling him about, then looked back to the strange visitor. The man in white had apparently forgotten about Kluber and was climbing into the strange seat.

“Wait,” Corey rose and stepped toward the man, Jasper at his heel, “what is that thing? What happened to these trees?”

“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it,” he didn’t look up, just started pressing buttons on the armrests and rubbing his chin, “Actually, if you could just take a few steps backward, beyond the tree line, you’ll be out of danger.”

“Danger?” Kluber’s hand subconsciously made a fist around his dog’s collar. The circle of metal started to spin slowly, a dull gleam growing  from its edges. “What kind of danger?”

“Nothing, it’s just  –  oops.” The last word was said more quietly, concern plain in the man’s voice. As he said it, the hoop around the chair started to spin faster and faster, the dull hum starting up again, the pulsing light emanating brighter and brighter from the edges. Kluber took another step forward, his dog starting to whine again. The man started to beckon at Kluber while the light grew ever brighter. Kluber had to shield his eyes, and the humming was getting too loud to bear.

“HEY!” He shouted, but the man paid no heed. He shouted some unintelligible words back, waving his hands frantically. The light filled the clearing, the hum became a deafening scream that brought Kluber to his knees, clutching his dog’s head. Everything was a blinding white, then a loud BANG, and everything went dark.

A wetness on his face brought Kluber back to consciousness. Squinting his eyes open, the plaintive eyes of his dog hung above his head, that big tongue soaking his stubble.

“Oh dear,” a familiar reedy voice was heard. “Oh dear, oh dear oh dear.” Kluber sat up slowly, peering at the man in white.

“The hell just happened?” he croaked. He looked around. The machine sat in the center of the clearing but something was off. The trees were wrong, different somehow.

“Well, looks like we’re companions.” The man said in an uncomfortably cheery way, looking about. Kluber peered at him incredulously. The man’s eyes snapped back to the pitcher. “It appears we’re 75 million years in your past. Welcome to time travel.”

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Kluber stared at the strange man for a minute, processing then reprocessing what he’d said. He rubbed his eyes. He scratched his head. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to help with the growing headache. I’m pretty sure this guy is nuts. I think he set off a firework, he thought. Then his vision cleared up and he got a better look at the trees. They were gigantic, like palm trees on steroids and ferns run wild.. And Good Lord, it was hot, so humid, his shirt was already sticking to him, and next to him Jasper was panting and whining for a drink.

“Wait, what?” Kluber felt the world spinning around him for a second. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, making the pounding in his temples worse. “What do you mean, ‘time travel’?” What the hell just happened?” The man simply smiled at this.

“Why, you were caught within the temporal borer’s displacement bubble,” he said matter of factly. “when I triggered it, you and your canine friend there were pulled with me. I must say you were quite lucky – there’s a non-zero chance you could have been atomized.”

Kluber peered up at the man, squinting because the light here was… odd. Bright, almost washed out. Slowly he climbed to his feet and strode to the man, grabbing him and spinning him around.

“Are you goddamn serious?” He stared into the man’s eyes, surprisingly calm for being apparently 75 million years in the past and having a much larger, stronger man standing over him. The man brushed Kluber’s hand off, seeming almost offended.

“Why yes, why wouldn’t I be? I’m a scientist, a horologist actually, my name is Blix Manafate.” Kluber’s confusion must have been evident. “I study time, it’s a burgeoning field where I come from. Or rather, when.” He chuckled at this.

June 5, 2013; Bronx, NY, USA; Cleveland Indians starting pitcher Corey Kluber (28) pitches against the New York Yankees during the second inning at Yankee Stadium. Yankees won 6-4. Mandatory Credit: Debby Wong-USA TODAY Sports

Kluber wasn’t laughing. Blood rushed to his head, the world went fuzzy. He took two steps backwards and tripped on his own feet, tumbling to the ground in a cloud of dust. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky. High up, a bird flew over. As he watched it, he noticed things about it. Leathery wings. an incredibly long neck. No feathers. It was a dinosaur. A pterodactyl, he guessed from his limited memory of middle school history. That was impossible.

He sat up again, and looked around, eyes clear, head pounding. The forest definitely wasn’t Alabama. Trees stood impossibly tall all around, palm trees big and small with some pines, the underbrush full of big ferns and bright flowers. The edge of the forest was trimmed smooth just like the clearing he’d first found, the dirt beneath a dark brown. It was quiet, that unnatural quiet of a forest scared silent.

Jasper’s head suddenly filled his view again, tongue and dog breath helping to fix the spinning in his brain. Corey started laughing in spite of himself, and pushed his dog away then sat up, and looked around. This didn’t make any sense. But he’d never seen trees like this, or flowers that large on the edge of the clearing. He rose to his feet and made his way back to the newcomer. No sense in being impolite.

“My name’s Corey, Corey Kluber, nice to meet you I guess.” He extended his hand to shake, but his new companion was busying himself with the chair’s base, silent but for the soft clink of metal on metal and an occasional grunt or murmur. It was like he’d forgotten Kluber was there. Corey turned to his dog, who was pacing back and forth in the clearing sniffing all over, plainly agitated.

“C’mere Jasp, here boy,” he dropped into a crouch and his dog sauntered over, tongue still lolling about like usual. Jasper nuzzled his head into Kluber’s chest while the pitcher scratched him in that place behind the ears he loved so much to soothe him. “This is pretty wild, huh boy?” he said softly as he peered around at the dense foliage surrounding them. “Time travel. Makes no sense. Neat trick if it is one. Never seen trees this big though, except for that trip Masty and me took up to the redwoods last year in Oakland.” He looked back down to his faithful canine companion. “Glad you’re here though, keep me sane.” This elicited a licking frenzy, pretty soon Kluber had fallen back, wrestling with his dog, lost in the moment. A clang and fizzle drew him back,  the scientist had stepped away from the chair. Kluber rose to try talking to the scientist again.

“So Mr. Blix, was it?”

Yes?” The man said distractedly, still not turning. He was pressing buttons on a small computer in his hand and pointing his flashing, humming ray gun at a panel beneath the seat of the machine where faint black smoke wafted.

“What, uh, what’s the plan here? I don’t imagine you meant to travel back to the time of the dinosaurs, and if I remember Jurassic Park correctly, this is prime T-Rex time. I’m not really looking to get eaten is all. You can understand that.”

“Mr. Kluber, I can assure you I did not mean for us to end up this far in the past, and I am working as swiftly as I can to calibrate the borer to get us back on track. The quantum stabilizer is out of whack and it is interfering with the Heisenberg compensator so we can’t achieve temporal equilibrium. As you can see, that’s an issue.”

“Right.”

“It shouldn’t be too much of an issue however, just give me a few minutes to reroute power from the reactor.” Blix was cheerful throughout the whole explanation. “All we’ll need is a splash of water in the fuel cell and we’ll be off.”

“Alright…” Kluber wasn’t too sure what just happened, the only word he picked up there was Heisenberg, and he was pretty sure Blix wasn’t talking about Breaking Bad.

Kluber left Blix to his work, anxious to get back to familiar surroundings but patient the man would have it set in no time. He strolled around the clearing, 30 feet from side to side like the last one, and got a better look at some of the plants. Really, not much different from some of the stuff he’d seen in swamps except everything, including the flowers, were just huge. He’d read somewhere it was because there was lots more carbon dioxide in the air. He supposed that made sense. Plants use it for food, maybe they ate more, got bigger. He glanced about him, seeing only Manafate in the clearing with him. Where had Jasper gotten off to?

“Here boy!” Kluber clapped twice, looking around for the dog. He couldn’t have gotten far. Famous last words, Kluber thought. This was the time of velociraptors and that thing that blinded Nedry he was pretty sure. Bad news for a curious dog like Jasper.

Mister, uh, Manafate?” he called. “How long you think you’re going to be fixing that thing?” The scientist was hunched over the machine, pressing buttons on his handheld and the control panels in turn..

“Oh, shouldn’t be too long,” Blix said without turning. “These things can be a bit finicky, but it’s nothing a little elbow lubricant can’t fix, as they say,” he chuckled at this.

Jun 16, 2013; Cleveland, OH, USA; Cleveland Indians starting pitcher Corey Kluber (28) delivers against the Washington Nationals at Progressive Field. Cleveland won 2-0. Mandatory Credit: David Richard-USA TODAY Sports

“Alright, I’m going to go find my dog, he’s wandered off somewhere, can’t have gotten too far. It’s not dangerous or anything, is it? A dino isn’t going to eat me or anything, right?” The scientist paused at this, then straightened and turned. A faint grin again sat on his face.

“Why, I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose that yes, there are large, wild animals out there, and you do present the opportunity for a morsel” a faint laugh as Kluber winced “but have no fear, take this.” He tossed the ray gun he’d been using on the chair to Kluber. “It’s an anti-matter spanner, it should do the trick if you find yourself in a pinch. Just turn the actuator on the side up to weaponize it.” Kluber looked down at the spanner, idly thinking his son would love all of this. The thing looked just like one of his toys, right down to the row of blinking green lights on the top. It fit in his hand easily, no more than eight inches long with a white blinking pyramid on the tip of the barrel. It couldn’t have weighed more than half a pound.

“Alright, thanks. I’ll be right back. Holler if you finish.” Kluber made for a gap in the thicket that looked most promising.

Two steps in and the greenery was already overwhelming. Mosses and ferns taller than him where there weren’t massive trees filled his vision, and a constant buzz that wasn’t quite as audible in the clearing behind filled the air, a constant din. It smelled… wet, like an old basement but fresher. A faint hint of decay wafted by, Kluber was hit at how old this whole place was, despite it being prehistory. It was not a place for man. Still no dinosaurs, but Kluber did see a path of obvious destruction caused by his dog.

He opened his mouth to call whistle, then closed it. Making a lot of noise might not be a good idea. Who knows what might turn up. This whole being in the age of dinosaurs had to be pretty mind-blowing for the dog though, so many smells and odd new things to chase. Hopefully he didn’t come back with a bunch of velociraptors in tow.

Kluber stopped again about ten yards in, plucking a brilliant white flower to give to Amanda when he got home. Hopefully it wasn’t against some time travel rule, but the guy dragged him along for the ride, there’s got to be some kind of exception for that. Pocketing it, he looked down at the tool Blix had given him for protection.

“Oh, what the hell,” he said, and aimed it at a fern five feet away and squeezed the trigger. A flash of pure white light lanced out of the tip, searing the air and carving a hole six inches wide in the leaf of the fern. As Kluber watched the hole expanded, the leaf disintegrating and falling away till nothing. It took no more than a few seconds and the whole plant was gone, leaving a gap in the air and the faint smell of ozone.

“Whoa,” he said, looking at the spanner with newfound respect. This would do.

Some rustling to his right snapped Kluber’s head around, his hand half-raising with the spanner in it. He felt a little foolish all of a sudden despite what he’d just done to that plant, this tiny little thing hopefully his protection against a murderous raptor pack. He thought he remembered something from the movies, how they hunt in packs, which only made him more nervous. He started backing slowly toward the clearing, sweat popping from every pore, the air close around him,. The rustling came closer, the bushes and ferns falling and snapping up as whatever it was crept closer. Now ten feet away, now five, and Kluber backed into a gigantic tree. Cornered. He raised the gun at whatever was coming, crouching low to make a smaller target, and waited.