by Eric Black
The winds grasped him fully and he was dragged towards the long emptiness of the cyclone. The heat lightning reappeared and became violent. The sound of the wind grew until Jack was confident a train was passing through the center of his head. He was certain he was not going to be able to withstand the intensity a moment longer when he was suddenly jerked forward and thrust into the cyclone. He entered the passageway and found the inside of the cyclone was surprisingly calm.
Looking ahead, he saw a bright light hastily approaching. At first he was not concerned but then realized he was being hurled towards the light. He closed his eyes but the light penetrated his eyelids and entered into the heart of his existence. He felt blinding pain as if his brain would explode. The light flashed one final brilliant time and then everything went dark. He had been traveling at a tremendous speed when suddenly, without warning, everything stopped.
He did not open his eyes but could hear sounds of a city around him. Water was dripping. People were shuffling their feet as they walked. Dogs barked in the background.
He opened his eyes and as he did, he became instantly disoriented. The disorientation caused acute nausea and he leaned forward and retched. He retched again and again until he was dry heaving and slowly the nausea subsided. Finally, his head quit spinning. The vomiting spell had caused him to close his eyes again to lessen the perplexity. He didn’t realize it until he heard a voice off to his right.
“Sir,” the voice said. “Oi, sir,” the voice said again. Jack opened his eyes slightly and realized he was going to be okay. He risked opening his eyes fully and turned his head to see who was speaking to him. His eyes focused on a boy of about twelve.
The boy was filthy. His clothes were filthy, his face was filthy and his matted hair was filthy. The boy looked at him with concern but smiled as Jack opened his eyes. The teeth that weren’t missing were rotted and yellow. “Sir?” the boy continued. “Are you alright, sir?”
“I’m fine, boy,” Jack said. “Be gone with you.”
The boy ran off and disappeared into an adjacent alley.
Jack rose to his feet and took a moment to take in his location. He was in some sort of alley between two buildings. The passage was putrid – on the ground were pools of urine filled with feces. Everything smelled like sewage and decay. To Jack, there was no doubt he had arrived.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
London, England – August 1888
Jack walked down Whitechapel Road, soaking in the East End of London. If everything had gone to plan, it was August 1888.
The East End consisted of everything east of the Aldgate Pump, also known as outcast London. Just under a million slum-dwellers populated mostly single rooms that were rented for the night and it was not uncommon for those rooms to house up to ten people. The rooms were marked only by a single bed of flea-infested straw stuffed into a sack. There were no indoor toilets, merely buckets that were frequently left in the room for several days before being emptied.
Most of the wood that did not make up the necessary structure of a home was removed for firewood. Broken windows were stuffed with rags or covered with paper. The air reeked of rotted vegetables and decaying carcasses of dogs, pigs, rabbits and rats that the inhabitants killed for food.
Those who died remained in the room as the family could neither afford to bury the body nor had anywhere to move the body.
Mothers, who had no other sources of income, turned their children loose into the streets while they made a living as a prostitute.
The women who did not sell their own bodies worked as sweat shop tailors. Children also worked in those sweat shops and would work as many as seventeen hours a day. A day’s work in the sweat shop would pay tenpence which was enough for a room for the night and food, thus continuing the cycle.
Because of the laborious way of life, women who were pregnant often contributed to complications of their unborn children. Many children died during childbirth and half of the children died before age five. The children that survived were malnourished and therefore physically and mentally underdeveloped. Children who had the opportunity to go to school would faint in their desks from starvation and exhaustion of daily life. The winters provided little warmth and schools were closed during those months because the buildings were too cold.
Whitechapel Road itself was home to eighty thousand people, mostly working seasonal jobs as builders or dockers. Those with permanent employment made a living by shoveling coal, carrying grain or carting timber. Everywhere Jack looked, petty street sellers and ramshackle shops filled any empty space.
This was the scene that Jack entered. He had read much about the East End in preparation for time travel but the narrative was a pale shadow to reality.
The entire landscape was soiled. Rotted homes were covered with mold. Filthy people roamed, often barely dressed and what clothes they wore were caked with the refuse of the streets. Every time Jack inhaled, he thought he would gag. Why did I let Jasper talk me into coming here?
As he walked, he saw children layered in mud sitting aimlessly on the street. He suspected they waited for their mother to finish with her customer and allow them back into their room.
He passed several police officers who eyed him suspiciously. His clothes, while dirty, were not nearly as filthy as those that surrounded him. He towered above every other person on the street. He began slouching as he walked so that he wouldn’t stand out so much.
He came upon a pool of standing water that was half-filled with sediment (he did not want to know what was mixed with the water.) To fit in better, he reached down and grabbed handfuls of the wet sediment and rubbed it on his cloths and face. From the corner of his eye he noticed a girl that looked about age six watching him. He snarled at the girl and she ran back into a hovel.
For two hours he wandered the streets and watched people. He observed how they interacted with each other and watched for similarities in behaviors; anything he could do to fit in better.
He turned right off Whitechapel Road onto Commercial Street and noticed someone walked behind him. He turned his head slightly and saw it was a police officer. Jack did not want to draw attention to himself but sped up his pace.
He glanced back and noticed that the officer was still behind him and had sped up as well. Great, Jack thought. He had to ditch the Copper. He didn’t think he could handle being taken into the police station; there was no way he could answer their questions satisfactorily.
Jack quickened his pace again and noticed that White Street intersected Commercial Street just ahead. When he reached White Street he turned right and immediately ducked into an alley that ran between two abandoned buildings.
He sat down in the alley and closed his eyes. With his eyes closed he started counting backwards from ten.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Chattanooga, Tennessee – Present Day
At first, there was only silence. Then, the hum of machinery came from somewhere in the dark. The hum grew louder and Jack knew he was back.
“You’re back!” Jasper exclaimed.
Jack looked up and felt the nausea beginning to take hold again. He held out his hand to stop Jasper from coming closer. His stomach was empty from retching in London and he dry heaved several times. Jasper watched concerned but each time he attempted to come closer Jack waived him away.
Finally the nausea subsided. Jasper helped Jack stand and guided him to a chair. Jack allowed Jasper to help him sit and he looked at Jasper. “I’m back,” Jack agreed smiling.
“Do you need a minute? How about some water?” Jasper asked.
“Water would be great.”
Jasper grabbed a water bottle and returned to Jack. “You smell awful.”
“I feel great,” Jack admitted. His head still buzzed and everything was hazy but he had grown used to his new perception. His head had been pounding for several days but now the pain subsided – the adrenaline from what he had just experienced drowned any pain.
“So how was it
?” Jasper asked.
“It was filthy,” Jack answered honestly.
“As filthy as you?”
“Worse. I was by far the cleanest person there.”
“Did you interact with anyone?” Jasper asked.
“I scared off a few children.”
Jack started at the beginning. He began with the experience of creating the wormhole and ended with the police officer who had grown suspicious of him.
“How long have I been gone?” Jack asked when he finished.
“You’ve been gone a little over two hours.”
“So that answers that.”
They had both been unsure if time in the new timeline would elapse correspondingly with the original timeframe; or if because they were in another time, would leaving and returning be instantaneous?
“Tell me about the nausea.”
“It’s awful. Worse than any time I’ve ever been sick. Worse than that time I had food poisoning.”
“That’s something we’ll work on. That could be an inconvenience depending on what’s occurring when you arrive. It could draw unwanted attention.”
They spoke for several hours on the experience of time travel. Jasper asked him several times to recreate the experience of the wormhole while recording the interview. Jasper wanted to be sure he understood everything that had occurred.
When they finished with the discussion on the wormhole, Jasper looked at Jack. “You’ve had a long day. Why don’t you get a shower and I’ll pull together something to eat? I imagine you want to sleep.”
Jack nodded appreciatively. In truth, his body was exhausted but his mind was wired. He knew it would take him awhile to get to sleep but the shower and food would help.
After the shower, Jack felt much better. He had scrubbed his entire body three times and washed his hair twice. After the third time washing the soap from his body, he finally felt clean. He dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen and saw meatloaf laid out.
“You made meatloaf?” Jack asked holding back a laugh.
“Carmen did. She dropped it off about an hour after you traveled.”
Jack nodded.
“So what are you going to do about your clothes? They’re filthy. And they’re not designed to be machine washed.”
Jack thought for a moment. “I’m stick them in a bag.”
“You’re kidding?” Jasper replied, unsure if he was supposed to laugh or not.
“No, really. You don’t understand how completely filthy London was. When I go back…”
“You’re going back?” Jasper interrupted.
“When I go back,” Jack continued, “the dirtier I can be the better. I’ll let the clothes stew in their own foul aroma for a while. Next time I’ll fit right in.”
“So you’re going back?”
“Did you not hear me say when I go back?”
“Very interesting. What made you change your mind?”
Jack took a bite of his food and held up his finger for Jasper to give him a moment. After he swallowed, he looked at Jasper. “Carmen sure can cook a mean meatloaf.”
“Yes, Paula Dean had better watch out. Now, what made you change your mind?”
Jack smiled. “I was thinking back on your idea that we could solve the identity of Jack the Ripper.”
Jasper looked surprised.
“After all,” said Jack, “you have the case study, do you not? We know where each murder occurs and we have the general time of each murder. I can go to that area and scope it out since I know what to look for.”
Jasper nodded approvingly. Then, a strange look came over his face.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“Well, if this indeed is the direction we take, it poses the one big question in regard to time travel.”
“Which is?”
“Do we stop Jack the Ripper and change history or do we allow him to continue his killing, only collecting additional facts and solve the mystery in our present time?” Jasper answered.
Jack looked at Jasper seriously, understanding the dilemma of such an undertaking. “I’ll have to sleep on that,” Jack admitted.
The two spoke for a while longer as Jack ate. After he finished, he said goodnight to Jasper and went upstairs.
That night he dreamed he killed a woman.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Chattanooga, Tennessee – Present Day
Jack was done. He could not take any more questions and could not handle going through his entire experience again. They had spent the last several days going over, step-by-step, what had occurred before, during and after Jack’s travel.
They looked at possible ways to reduce the nausea effect. They explored ways in which they could decrease hypnosis time so that time travel could be instantaneous, without waiting. But for the moment, Jack was done discussing time travel.
As a reprieve, Jasper suggested they go downtown. “We should catch a CFC game.” Both of them enjoyed soccer and neither had been to a Chattanooga Football Club game that season.
Jack agreed.
Jack drove to the stadium and as he drove, Jasper could not help but notice Jack was much more aggressive than usual. Jack was usually fairly calm when he drove. Usually, he drove the speed limit, slowed down in the appropriate areas and didn’t swerve in-and-out of lanes. Tonight he did just the opposite. As Jack drove, Jasper caught Jack glaring at other drivers, something he never did.
“Are you okay?” Jasper asked. “You look tired. Do you want me to drive?”
“I’m good,” Jack answered, swerving around a car. “I don’t know why people have to drive so slow.”
Jasper looked over at Jack but didn’t say anything.
The game was very close but in the end, Chattanooga pulled out a 3-1 victory. After the game, Jack looked over at Jasper. “Thanks, Jasper. That’s exactly what I needed.”
“No problem. Now give me the keys. Four beers, I believe is over the limit.”
Jack shrugged and handed Jasper the keys. They were walking to the car when a group of fans of the opposing team noticed Jack’s Chattanooga FC hat.
“We’ll get you next time,” one of the fans said to Jack.
The comment was lighthearted and everyone took it that way. But not Jack. The comment made him livid.
“What do you mean by that?” Jack asked.
“Hey, I was just kidding,” the fan answered. “You guys played a good game.”
“Don’t backtrack. I want to know what you meant.”
“Jack, calm down, he was only kidding,” Jasper said looking shocked at Jack. Jack hardly ever lost his cool over something so trivial.
Jack ignored Jasper. “How about I kick that smile off your face?” he asked the fan.
It was the fan’s turn to get angry. “If you think you can, here I am.”
Jack didn’t hesitate. Jasper reached out to grab him but Jack was too quick. Jack ran at full sprint at the fan. The guy’s friends tried to stop Jack but were not able to grab him before he threw his shoulder in the guy’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. The guy fell back onto the concrete, gasping for breath.
Jack didn’t wait. He jumped on top and started driving his fists into the guy’s face. He had hit him three times before the guy’s friends could pull him off.
Jack continued to fight as the guy’s friends pulled him backwards. Finally, Jasper grabbed Jack around the chest from behind. “Jack, it’s Jasper. Stop it.”
Jasper was not as stocky as Jack was but he was stronger than he looked. Jack struggled for a few minutes before realizing it was Jasper holding him. He allowed himself to relax.
When the guy first spoke to Jack, his reaction was the same as everyone else’s. He started to smile but then something within him came alive and began to elevate. He was unable to keep it from rising to the surface. A rage rose from his marrow. Before he knew it, he blacked out and the rage took over.
He looked around and saw the guy bleeding on the ground. Then, the memories of the
past few moments flooded into his psyche. He was embarrassed. “Look, I’m sorry…” he started to stay.
“Just get out of here.”
Jack retreated and followed Jasper to the car. Jasper started the engine and they rode in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jasper broke the quiet. “Wow, Jack, thanks for the nice, relaxing evening.”
Jack stared out the window. “I’m not sure what happened,” he said softly.
“Well, I know what happened. Some guy congratulated you on our team’s victory and you nearly took his head off for it.”
“I blacked out.” He looked down at his knuckles that were still red. “I can remember what happened now but didn’t know as it was happening.”
Jasper pulled over. “Has it happened before?”
“Not the blackouts. But I’ve had thoughts lately that have been unusually violent for me.”
Jasper looked at Jack seriously. “How long has this been going on?”
Jack didn’t answer.
“It’s been since the surgery hasn’t it?”
Reluctantly Jack nodded.
“And you weren’t going to tell me?”
Again Jack didn’t answer.
“Jack, if there is something going on, I need to know about it.”
Jack sighed deeply and then looked over at Jasper. “Ever since the procedure, everything has been hazy. My head hurts as well.”
“Where I drilled into your skull?”
“All over. Not a sharp pain; more of a dull throb.”
“Any dreams?” Jasper asked.
“They’ve been violent as well.”
“So you haven’t been sleeping well?” Jasper asked.
“Not especially.”
“It’s common for people who haven’t slept well over a period of time to become irritable. This would also explain headaches and the haziness you described. Do you think it’s more than that?”
Jack thought about Jasper’s observation for a moment. It made sense. “It could be the hole you drilled in my skull.” Jack smiled and paused for effect. “But it’s probably what you said.”
