The Devil's Copper

when I was five!”
Okay.  I needed to process that.  I did have an acting bug - something inserted into my brain by my mother when I was in the sixth grade.  I carried on until more recently, but my crowning achievement was a string of plays at the community theater centre.  I had never been in any movie, and furthermore this guy couldn’t have been any more than five years my junior.
“I’m sorry, you clearly have me confused with…”
“The Importance of Being Earnest,” he proclaimed, as though that would answer everything.  Well, it didn’t.  It did give him a little more credibility though.  “It’s 1997 now, right?”
I slowly nodded, gripping my keys, poking a few through my fingers in case I needed to use them as a weapon.
“That means last year you played Cecily Cardew and got your first standing ovation, despite people saying it was a ‘controversial’ portrayal.”
“You saw that?”
He shook his head.  “No.  I wasn’t even born yet.  But I read about it.  I mean, let’s be honest; it was very progressive for its time, especially in this little town.”
It was my turn to shake my head.  “Who are you?”
“I, uh…I’m not really supposed to say.  I’m not really supposed to be talking to you.  It’s against the rules, but…I mean…look at you.  You’re standing right in front of me.  This is amazing.  You’re amazing.”
Great.  I have one shining moment on stage and meet my first fan, (a year later I might add), and I’m wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, and carrying a greasy box of engine parts under one arm.
“Thanks,” I muttered.  “I still have no idea what you’re talking about though.”
“They needed a guinea pig, someone to test their device,” he stammered.  “I agreed to do it as long as I could come here and meet you.  I guess they sent me back too far.  You’re not famous yet, are you?”
“Uh…no.”
“Oh my god that’s amazing,” he gasped.  “You have no idea who you are yet, do you?”
“I mean…I thought I did…”
“Can you sign this?” he asked, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a piece of paper.  It was only then that I realized just how unusual his jacket was, like something out of a bad movie attempting to depict a future where everyone wore bright pastel colours.  I just thought it was an odd fashion choice on his part.  He held out a blank sheet and a pen.  “I wanted to get you to sign a poster for ‘Alternative Medicine’, but they said it wasn’t allowed.  That’s the movie where you broke out of the family-friendly market and into the more dramatic…I shouldn’t say anything else.  Can you sign it?  Please?”
He still held the piece of paper out.  His hands were actually shaking.
“You want me to sign my name?”
“You don’t have to sign your full name.  Just ‘Billie’.  It’s what you go by anyway.”
“Then you’ll let me go on my way?”
He nodded vigorously.
Jesus what the hell was I doing?  I set down the box, took the piece of paper, and signed my first name.  I ended up getting dust and dirt from the box all over the rumpled but otherwise clean sheet.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“No, no, this makes it all the more legit!”
“So what year are you supposed to be from?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Uh huh.  And what’s your name?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Right.  Well, here you go.”
He took the sheet back and eyed it as though I had just covered it in gold plating.  “This is amazing, thank you!”  He looked around as though he were being watched.  Which is ironic, as I was wondering where the cameras were.  I was certain I was being pranked.  He looked at his watch.  “I have to go.  Thank you for this.  You’ve made my day.  My year.  My life.  They’ll never believe me.”
“I’m sure they won’t.”
“Keep acting, don’t give up.  No matter how hard it is.  You’re going to be huge one day, Billie.  Don’t get discouraged, okay?”
“Uh…sure.”
He made a few erratic gestures, like he was going to hug me, thought better of it, attempted to shake my hand, thought better of it, then resigned to just smile and nod.  He then ran off across the parking lot and disappeared around the corner into an alleyway behind the parts shop.
I watched in disbelief, then picked up the box and was about to unlock my car when there was a sudden flash.  I wasn’t the only one to see it; another man in overalls coming from the parts shop turned when he saw it.  The flash came from the alleyway.  It was quite significant, even in the light of day.
Then it was quiet, save for the sound of water gurgling as it went down the storm drain.
Well, that was interesting.  An actress.  I hadn’t given it much more thought at that point, to be honest.  I mean, it was a big driver for me through high school and part way through college.  But by this point, the only acting I did was pretend not to be disgusted by the subtle attempts at humour from the drivers and labourers at the company I worked at.  To be honest, I had pretty much written acting off altogether.
A few of my old friends had encouraged me to keep pursuing it.  When I told them about my encounter with a ‘time-traveler,’ their reaction was too telling to maintain the façade.  If only their acting was as good as his, I might have believed the whole thing.
“Oh my god, that’s SO amazing,” Pat gasped.
Pat never gasped.
“This is a sign,” Chris insisted.  “You have to get back into it!”
When they realized I wasn’t buying it, they admitted they’d hired an actor to try to convince me to do what they couldn’t seem