The Time Portal 2: Escape in Time Read Online Free

aspirations? Doc would take you right to the movers and shakers who could get it done. It didn’t matter if you sided with the law or against it. If he liked you, he helped you. Lucky knew that all too well.
    When Lucky was eighteen, he received a traffic ticket and was afraid that his insurance would increase. His father told him to visit Doc and he told him to make sure that he gave him a little “something,” because that’s how he made his living, that’s how he survived. It seemed that Doc always took care of “the problem,” but he never mentioned a fee. He just left it up to you to do the right thing. Lucky recalled walking around the corner to Forty-Second Avenue where Doc lived and where Doc’s father before him had lived. He rang his doorbell. It was early in the morning and a window opened at the side of his house. Doc poked out his head and Lucky thought that he looked like the Great Wizard from Oz behind the curtain in the Emerald City. When he saw Lucky, he immediately asked, “Lucky, everything okay? You’re not in trouble, are you?”
    Lucky shook his head.
    “No trouble, Mr. Doc,” he answered. “But I have a traffic ticket and my father thought you might be able to help.”
    “Well, as luck would have it, my boy, I have to go the Queens County courthouse this very morning on some business. You can drive me there, Lucky.”
    Lucky remembered how challenging it was to find a metered parking spot in that area, so he parked in the lot across from the courthouse. They entered the building and walked directly into the judge’s chambers. The judge, donned in his black robe, stood, greeted Doc with a smile, and shook his hand.
    “What can I do for you, Doc?” Judge Abernathy asked.
    Doc reached deep down into his right coat pocket, took out a thick wad of traffic tickets, and handed them to him. The judge shook his head.
    “Doc, these are not the old days when we could just fix a ticket. It’s all changed now. I can’t do that anymore.”
    Doc’s face turned as red as a stop sign. It did not take a genius to see that he was ripping mad. Doc gritted his teeth a bit, tilted his head a little to the side, and held out his hand.
    “Give ‘em back, judge,” Doc said. Without waiting for a response he said, “As soon as I walk out that door, I’m headin’ straight to the Democratic Headquarters and I’m gonna ask ‘em, ‘What kind of judges are you appointin’ these days where you can’t get a measly traffic ticket fixed?’ And then I’m gonna emphatically encourage the party to not support you when you come up for reelection.”
    Judge Abernathy stood there, clearly uneasy. He stood quietly for a second or two, knowing very well that Doc could make good on his threat. He walked over to his window, peered out and then walked back over to Doc.
    “No need to do that, Doc. I’ll handle it,” he said.
    Doc smiled, nodded his head, and handed the tickets back to the judge.
    “And next month, I’ll be back with another batch, for old time’s sake,” he said as he headed toward the door. “See ya soon.” And with that, the door closed behind them.
    Once outside, and as they were walking down the courthouse steps, Doc looked at Lucky, shook his head and said, “What is this world comin’ to when you can’t even fix a simple traffic ticket?”
    Doc walked a tenuous line between the good guys and the bad, but he was always honest and fair with everyone, and in turn, he was respected for it. There was another time when Doc had helped out Lucky’s family. Lucky’s father, thanks to Doc, worked for the Highway Department. One day he was fired – an infraction over a cup of coffee. This happened on a Friday. Doc loved Lucky’s father like his own son. He was the neighborhood amateur boxing champ and Doc had seen him fight many times, had come to know and respect him. Doc listened patiently and when he finished his story, he told Lucky’s father to show up at his house at nine o’clock