(Reality E-937)

Morty flailed and bawled as the time stream wildly swirled around him. Why had Rick invented this double looped lasso time belt? Why had it been so flimsy as to rip apart in the force of the time stream leaving Morty thrashing around Rick-lessly and alone. Through the crackle and squeal of the time stream Morty heard Rick's voice, "MORTY USE THE HOMING DIAL! HOME IN ON MY SIGNAL!"

Sweatily Morty found a small blue dial with a white screen. He wiggled it until the beeping became steady and the white screen flashed red. The time stream stopped swirling and crackling, and Morty knew he was in a concrete place and time. He fell several feet to the ground with a yelp, right into a bush. He got up, dusted himself off and inspected the damage, the 'time rope' a silvery cord of wires and filaments that had connected him and Rick was frayed and torn, the belt was cracked, the button stuck. But the homing dial was beeping faintly but steadily. Morty looked around, he was outdoors? He was surrounded in a sparse, hilly woodland but the sky overhead was clear blue and the air was warm.

"Who's there!?" Came the high piping voice of a child. Over the hill ran a boy about five or maybe older. He was tanned deep brown, maybe hispanic, with a tangled mop of jet black hair on his head and beetle browed. The boy wore a collared blue and white shirt and pair of brown shorts.

"Hey you haven't seen an old guy maybe six feet tall with wild blue hair and wearing a lab coat?" Morty asked

The boy scowled. "No."

The dial began beeping louder and flashing red as the boy drew near.

"That's a cool belt, real scifi," said the boy, "Ya know, zap!"

The boy was examining his belt closely.

"Oh ummm yeah…" Morty said, the beeping and flashing was near constant now. "Hey what's the year?"

"Are you dumb, it's 1964," The boy said squinting up at Morty like he had two heads.

"What's your name?" Morty asked.

"Why you wanna know?" The boy asked.

"Oh me? I'm just curious is all," Morty said.

"Around these parts, they call me Rich Van Der Aart," The boy said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Wait you're like five and you have an alias?" Morty said.

"I'm seven and I turn eight in April! Also yes, I do. When I lived in Puerto Rico with Papa and Abuela they used to call me Ricardo Sanchez," The boy said.

"…Rick for for short right?" Morty said feeling queasy.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" The boy asked.

Morty could see a few hairs of the boy's thick eyebrows sort of forming together, an almost unibrow.

Oh well, might as well get it over with.

"I'm Morty, your grandson, from the future," Morty said.

Rick gave him a suspicious look, then as it settled in Rick screamed. "NO! NO! NO! If you're my grandson, it means I grow up and touch a gross, icky girl! Ewww, I don't want to kiss no girl, or stick my bincho in her! I'm not having sex with a girl, NO!"

At this point Rick began pulling up clods of dirt and throwing them at Morty.

"Ow!" Morty shouted as a small rock bounced off his brow. He wondered if the old cliche about killing your grandfather was true, because he really wanted sock this annoying brat right in the jaw. Then it hit him. "Wait, you're seven and you know about sex?"

"Of course, stupid! I read a biology textbook!" Rick said putting down the dirt. "I just thought I'd be like uncle Larry, and I'd never have to stick my bincho in a girl."

"Who's uncle Larry?" asked Morty.

"My uncle on my mom's side," Said Rick. "He's gonna write the next broadway hit! Or that's what he keeps saying"

"Oh and your mom is?" Morty asked.

"Not here, she drops me off at Memaw and Popop's house for the summer. So she can drink more and spend time making out with her summer 'man-friend'. It never lasts, mid September at the latest." Rick said. "Not that I can stand the Puta, the other ten months of the year."

"Why do you keep putting spanish words in with your English?" Morty asked.

"Because. I want to show these assholes, that I don't want to be here. I want to be with Papa and Abuela in Puerto Rico," Rick said. "But I don't think they'll ever let me go back…"

Morty realized that whatever had hurt Rick whatever had made him what he was, the answer was here with this child. Maybe he didn't want to know, maybe he shouldn't know but a morbid sense of curiosity wouldn't let him leave.

Rick was looking at the belt and scribbling in the dirt with his finger, some kind of formula?

"I can fix your time belt, old me must be getting senile if he made such a shitty time travel thing," Rick said. "But first I need some time to get it right and also you owe me."

"Oh geez, Rick what do you want me to do?" Morty sighed.

"I need some help clearing this brush from the hill," Rick said and pointed above them.

"Oh sure, that's cool," Morty replied.

This would give him more time to figure out what Rick's deal was, maybe knowing this he could help his Rick.

"So you're a pretty smart kid," Morty said as they ventured up the hill, it was a lame gambit and Rick the boy rolled his eyes.

"I know that," Rick said, "That's why I have to go colleges and universities not elementary school. It's why they keep giving us Scholarship and Grant money. I hate it, but Mom says the money keeps us alive and I should do what they want. I'm surprised they haven't thrown me in some government lab, like a chimp."

"Oh," Morty said.

"Mom says I have a 'gift' and I need to 'share it with the world'. But she just wants to be the Mom of a genius and make money off it." Rick said, "Mom's the worst, ever. She thinks she's right just cuz she's bigger than me."

They began clearing the brush, mostly leaves, dead branches and a few plants they moved off to side of the hill.

"Why are we doing this?" Morty asked.

"Cuz, you'll see," Rick said. "Is time travel normal in the future?"

"No, not really," Morty said.

At the top of the hill was red flyer wagon, not modified or Rick'ed up just a regular old wagon.

Rick got in and was staring at Morty.

"Gimme a push and get in," Rick said.

"Oh okay," Morty replied, gave the wagon a slight push and sat down behind Rick. Kid Rick didn't smell like Rick, no hint or smoke, booze or vomit, but still there was something Rick about his scent, there were leaves in his hair. The wagon was rocketing down the hill, and Rick was laughing. This was fun, this was normal…Then Morty remembered… didn't the hill end soon, and wasn't there a drop? That wasn't good, Morty stifled his impulse to scream as they went airborne and fell with a loud crack into a natural pool formed by a creek, they hit the water, it was deep enough. Rick came up from the water and did a lazy dog paddle in a circle. Morty spit out cold water and laughed.

"That… was… fun…" Morty said.

"Yeah, I know, that's why I did it!" Rick said. "Don't we usually have fun together or am I too old to do much?"

"Uhhh no, we don't, you scare me," Morty said. "And you are ummm pretty spry?"

Rick, the kid, swam to the shallows and waded to the shore. "This is the Hennikill it's a stream, kill doesn't mean anyone was murdered here it's just the old dutch word for body of water. I guess it was Henni's… "

"Uhhh hey will you fix my belt now?" Morty asked. He wondered if it was waterproof, but the way the dial was still flashing and beeping meant it was.

"Not now, 'm gonna watch crayfish, all my tools are in my room," Rick said.

Morty knew there'd be no convincing Rick if that was what he wanted to do, and beating him up might kill the little guy, then Morty himself would cease to exist. So Morty bent down near the edge of the stream next to Rick and watched the minnows and the crayfish.

"This is nice," Morty said.

"It's not really," Rick said putting a finger in the water and moving a stick revealing a sheltering crayfish. "It's whole little world is down there, and messing with it means you have power like a force of nature. Watch'em."

Two new tiny crayfish had found the stick, they were nearly the same size and they fought over who got to shelter under it. The minnows swam lazily, not knowing just beneath them death awaited them with sharp pinchers. In deeper waters under rocks Morty could just about mark out the antenna of crayfish six times the size of the babies in the shallows.

"Huh," Morty said.

"It's like this for every type of creature, struggle to survive against others of your species, predators, prey, and forces of nature that no one bothers to control," Rick said. "Then you die and it means nothing."

"Gee, that's bleak," Morty said. "You're seven can't you lighten up?"

Rick turned away from the stream and glared at him. "That bitch took me away from Puerto Rico, where I was happy, where Abuela and Papa loved me. She doesn't, I don't think she loves anything she can't control. I'm a kid but they make me go to college, it could be fun but she's on my back about my fucking GPA all the time. And the other grown-ups I meet there, most don't fucking care, they just see me as a big brain. I never get to do any kind of research or thesis I want to do. No one understands most of the stuff I come up with anyhow."

"Geez, that's tough," Morty said.

"Hardly any of the eggheads at the universities anyway. Popop and Gran understand a little. I mean Popop worked on the Manhattan Project and Gran had a Phd from Bryn Mawr before she was married. Aunt Martha, well she gets like a fourth of it if I talk biology. Uncle Larry? Well if it's not Music or prose nope. Papa, very little, but Abuela…" Rick smiled. "She gets a third of my ideas. She's not as smart as me, but she's close."

"What college did she go to?" Morty asked.

"She didn't, she was born in shack on Puerto Rico in late 1900s, married by16 and had Papa in 1914, then like four more kids," Rick said. "She says, no one wanted to listen or talk about her ideas, or even get them so she gave up until me. She still writes me, Mom lets them write to me, send money and presents. But she reads the letters first. So Abuela and me came up with a code, Mom doesn't get it at all. One day I'm going back and I'm gonna live with them forever in Puerrrto RRRRIIICO!"

Rick rolled his R's and ululated, then stopped and stared at Morty. "Do I?"

Morty paused. "I don't know, maybe you do. You don't, uhh talk about anything before my Mom was born, even then it's not much."

"Hmmmm," Rick muttered. "Welp, I'll see right, Grandson?"

"Yeah, I guess," Morty sighed.

They continued watching the stream for a while, then Rick spoke. "It's gross, but I if you're my grandkid, it means I end up kissing a girl. Mom sure likes kissing guys, and drinking, Puta. She's drunk a lot, she tries to hide it but I can tell. Sometimes I sneak her booze, I always top it off with water. Most of the time the bitch doesn't know, but I catch hell if I show up to class tight."

Morty wasn't surprised at this but also felt a bit sad, Rick had started that young, it figured. Morty sighed. "Are you going to fix the belt soon?"

"Yeah, We'll head back to the house soon, I'll tell 'em you're my new friend and you're parents are camping in the state park. They like it when I make friends, I don't really have many," Rick said, "And they let me get away with a ton of shit, cuz they feel guilty for helping Mom get custody of me."

It was then that a woman's voice rang out, "RICH! OH RICCCHIIE IT'S DINNER TIME!"

Rick shouted back, "COMING!"

He took off, calling back to Morty, "C'mon!"

"Geez, I don't know about this," Morty said.

"Don't be a wet blanket, Morty, 'sides you'll get to meet your family." Rick said.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice, and he was getting hungry, so food might be a good idea.

They stepped out of the wood, onto a green spreading lawn with a wooden picnic table, table booth, and food already on it. At the end of the back yard, there a was large white Colonial house. An older woman stood in the door, her blue-grey hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head, she wore silver spectacles and a knee length green floral pattern dress.

"Rich, there you are! Who's your friend?" She asked.

"Oh, that's Morty his parents are camping nearby," Rick lied smoothly. "Can he stay for dinner, MeMaw?"

"Hi," Morty waved.

"Well, if it's alright with his parents," She said, her expression showing a hint of suspicion.

"Oh yeah," Morty said, "Already asked 'em."

"Good," She said, "Now Mrs. Patterson, already made dinner. You're Grandfather and Uncle have to come down."

A voice with a burr that sounded familiar came from the house. "Is it dinner time Joycie?"

"Yes, Frank," She said, "Get Lawrence and the girls and come out here."

"Right, I will," said Frank.

A few minutes passed, Rick sat himself at the table and began to help himself to the food. Grandma Van der Aart wrinkled her very well manicured brow, shook her head and looked at Morty. "Don't you want to get some food?"

"Uhhh Sure," Morty said.

He went to the table and grabbed a plate from a table setting. There was corn on the cob, a pile of steaks, carrot & peas, potato salad and some kind of wobbling solid green jello salad. As well as a pitcher of iced tea. He got a bit of everything but the jello salad, Rick had taken two helpings of it and now was running his corn throughout the butter. The others filtered out. There was an older man, tall and thin with short, slightly rumped white hair, wearing glasses, a white button down shirt and brown pants. If Morty didn't know better he would have said it was another Rick, but no, that must his Great-Great-Grandfather. There was a slightly younger man same build with neatly combed sandy blond hair, a lavender button down and green slacks, he gave a supercilious glance around, everything about him screamed GAY but Morty said nothing, Uncle Lawrence? The 'girls' were middle aged women, both with darker brown hair, one in blue floral pattern dress, the other green checkered dress. Everyone got food and sat down.

"Hey Uncle Larry," Rick asked. "How's the musical coming?"

"Rich, please don't call me Uncle Larry," Lawrence drawled. "It makes me sound like a tacky cigar chomping cabbie from the Bronx."

Rick smirked and said: "Okay, Uncle Larry."

Lawrence, smiled back and ruffled his Nephew's hair affectionately "Glad you asked, I'm almost done! I do hope the world is ready for a musical romp based on Shadow over Innsmouth. It's my ticket out of copy writing and to Broadway."

"If you write it, they won't be," Rick said.

"Brat," Lawrence kidded back. "I'm so unappreciated in my own time, that's what Henry says."

"Poor Henry must be so hard to be your roommate," said the 'girl' in the green checkered dress. "Is he pining for you this summer?"

"Martha my dear," Lawrence said.,"Oh yes, but someone has to mind the apartment down in the city."

"It's a shame he didn't get his time off for this summer," Great-Great-Grandma Van der Aart said. "Martha brought her pal Phyllis, you guys could double date."

Martha, Phyllis, and Lawrence all exchanged looks.

"It is a shame," Lawrence said, "It must be so hard for two ladies living together and working at the same place, you two must drive each other bonkers."

"Oh no," Martha said. "Me and Phyllis are such good friends we get along great."

"Yeah," Phyllis said, "There aren't many gals in the lab, it's nice to have another lady around."

Great-Great-Grandpa Frank shrugged. "You two shouldn't be wasting your time in the lab, get husbands before you become old maids."

"Now, Frank," Great-Great-Grandma Van Der Aart said. "Don't be so hard on them, you and I didn't tie the knot until I was nearly 30."

"But Joycie, we were engaged for three years before that," Great-Great-Grandpa said. " I don't want Vi to be the only one of our family who got hitched. Rich needs a few cousins to play with, you kids need to get married."

"How is your Mom, Richie?" Lawrence said. with emphasis.

"Awful," Rick replied. "She and her new friend Brock went to Montreal ."

"Was Brock the one who calls you sport?" asked Lawrence.

"Naw, he's the one who just ignores me." Rick said.

Grandpa and Grandma Van der Arrt looked at each other sadly. The meal went on,everyone seemed nice and normal, so his Great-grandmother was the only one who wasn't gay?

Morty ate and watched them. The food was pretty good. Afterwards a young plump brunette cleared the dishes and came out with ice cream. Morty really wanted his belt fixed but the ice cream was good, it was vanilla and was served with fresh strawberries. The conservation was boring, Grandpa Van der Aart talked about his job on the town council and they discussed quirks of people Morty didn't know and would likely never meet. So this was Rick's family? Well, one side of it and minus his Great-Grandmother. It was nice, he wondered if he'd even remember it, though.

Everyone went in the house each of them carried a stack of dishes even Rick. Martha and Phyllis stayed in the kitchen to clean the dishes.

"Richie, is the thingamabob put on the antenna set?" Lawrence asked.

"It sure is, Tío!" Rick said. "Twilight zone time!"

"uhhh Rich… you know that thing you were gonna show me up in your room… ?" Morty asks.

Rick groaned in only the way an annoyed seven year old could and rolled his eyes.

"Go on Tío, it's a rerun, I promised to show Morty this cool thing I made, then get him back to campsite, I'll be back soon." Rick said.

Lawrence shrugged, "Sure. Hope you don't miss too much."

Rick jolted up a set of stairs, Morty followed. Rick went down the hallway to the end, his room was the smallest, it was under eaves, but it had a single bed neatly made up, night stand and most importantly a wool bench with scattered tools.

Rick scowled. "Gimme, the belt."

Morty took it off and put it on the workbench. Rick stood on his tiptoes got out a screw driver and a soldering iron and tinkered with it in silence. There was a spark, and Rick screwed it back together.

"Thanks," Morty said.

"Yeah, Yeah… I'm missing my show." Rick said. "Turn the dial to the right and press the green button."

Morty did and the time-stream flashed and whirled around him, suddenly he was back in the garage with Old Rick glaring at him.

"How long was I gone for?" Morty asked.

"Five minutes, way to budge in my childhood Morty…" Rick said.

"Why don't you ever talk about them?" Morty asked.

"Cuz' I don't." Rick said. "No point, MeMaw and Popop died in the early 70s, Uncle Larry died of AIDS in 1983, Aunt Martha and Phyllis and me don't talk anymore."

"What about your Mom and your family in Puerto Rico?" Morty asked.

"You're asking too many questions," Rick said, "But if you want to see Uncle -Urp- Larry's plays they're in workshop under the garage."

"Really?" Morty asked.

"Yeah," Rick it was half a lie.

Rick opened the hatch and climbed down Morty followed.

In an hour Morty woke up in front of the tv watching inter dimensional cable, that weird musical 'Only in Innsmouth' was on. Morty wondered why he was watching it, and what had happened after they tested Rick's time belt. Maybe it didn't work? Morty wasn't sure. Rick was sitting next to him, watching the musical and smiling.

"Why are we watching this Rick?" Morty asked.

"Cuz' we are," Rick said, eyes never meeting Morty's.