Greg placed his hand on Billy’s shoulder and offered his suggestion. “I think the prudent move will be for us to head to the safety and privacy of my house in Durango. We’re going to leave at dawn. This place might be crawling with paparazzi tomorrow and we don’t want any part of that.”
CHAPTER 24
September 26, 2060 - Durango, Colorado
Greg’s car rumbled south on Route 25, zigzagging through Colorado, eventually stopping on Luna Lane.
“It’s so dark,” said Billy.
“We voted against street lights. I can see the stars at night from my backyard. On any clear night I can see a million stars. Now that’s worth living for.”
“Try gazing at the stars from the front window of a space ship. Now that’s a view!” said Billy.
“You constantly one-up-me with those space stories. I should stick to stories about the girls I’ve slept with.”
“You got me there. Maybe I can catch up? Do you know any girls that want to sleep with the oldest man in the world?”
Greg grinned, “Maybe Nurse Corley? Once you save the world, you should call her.”
Greg’s son Ballard met the two at the front door. Dad received a hug from the strapping man, and Billy received a firm handshake.
“So I finally get to meet the legendary Billy Callahan. I never thought I’d meet you, you were —” Ballard paused, not sure how to finish the sentence.
“I get it. Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard about you on the ride here. Ballard. Cool name.”
“I was named after the guy who found the Titanic. I’ve seen a few old videos of your dad, seems like a great guy,” Ballard was making a good first impression.
“Yeah, he was the best. Your father saved me from an awful future. He’s a great guy, too.”
Greg halted the love fest.
“Okay you two, enough of that. Ballard, please help two old men with their luggage.”
Billy owned one suitcase. A lifetime of existence condensed into a medium sized piece of luggage, purchased at the last minute from “Marc’s Discount” in Cleveland, an hour after Greg received legal guardianship of Billy.
The broad-shouldered son tossed one bag over his right shoulder and took his father’s bag in his left hand and headed to the door, but didn’t have any fingers left to turn the handle.
“I could use a little help here.”
Greg opened the door, Ballard headed to the bedrooms with the luggage, and Billy walked in the house.
“Nice place you have here.”
“I wanted people walking in the front door to see the windows that face the mountain range. You should see it in the fall. Wait, don’t say it… I should see the changing of the leaves from space, is that what you’re going to say? You’ve undoubtedly seen better views.”
Billy eyed the furniture and the pictures that decorated the house. He moved from the main foyer, past the kitchen, and finally to the family room. He walked to the window and saw the reflection of a photograph. He turned, and moved to examine the image.
“I’ll be damned.”
Ballard stared at the picture and told Billy the story of the old photo.
“That’s you and my dad. You guys were 9 or 10 years old.” The image depicted two little kids with casts on their left arms, both kids smiling at the camera. “My dad has kept that picture on the wall on each house he’s owned. Even in Europe with the job at FOND, he made a copy of it and stuck it on the fridge. Do you recognize it?”
Billy studied the photograph for a minute.
“Of course. It was just a couple of years ago…oh, right. It was more than a couple of years ago. I need to try and remember stuff like that. I broke my arm playing football in the backyard. There were four of us playing football. One day, I tripped on a bump between my house and the neighbors. I fell, and hurt my arm. My dad said it was a bruise. I thought it was broken.
The next day I went to the doctor and sure enough, it was broken. My dad was surprised. I said to him, ‘You’d think a man who studies bones for a living would be able to tell if one is broken!’ I thought he was going break my other arm, but it was so true that he couldn’t really get mad, instead he laughed. I’d forgotten all about that until I saw that picture. My mom died shortly after that.”
Greg entered the room, refreshed, holding three frosty beers. He gave one to his son, and one to Billy, who took hold of it reluctantly, “You were not served beer at the Keller Institute. You’ll have to take it slow – cheers!” The men formed a triangle and gently banged the glass bottles together.
Ballard guzzled his beer. Billy made an awkward face with the first sip.
Greg turned to Billy, “I remember you told me about that Hargudus fellow drinking when they landed on earth. I don’t know what they were drinking, but it couldn’t have been any better than these 12 ounces of microbrew from Colorado Springs. Bottoms up!”
Billy drank a few ounces of the liquid, stopped, and let out a loud, “Buuuuurrrp! Oh yuck, beer tastes like shit!”
Smiles filled the room. It might have been the best night of Billy’s life. More beers flowed until late in the evening until Greg and Ballard staggered their way to bed and crashed. Billy guzzled a large glass of water, still thirsty from his time in Israel, and fell asleep. Soon, Billy would be the most famous man in Colorado.
CHAPTER 25
October 9, 2060
The interview in Chicago brought an onslaught of negative press toward Billy. However, there was a bright spot. A small group of people did believe him, and although they stood on the fringe of society, there numbers were big enough to give Billy the resolve to continue to spread the word of the teacher and warn mankind against ruining the environment.
Ballard clicked on the television set and turned to the news channel. Home delivery ended decades ago and former Denver Post subscribers simply logged into their television control pad and found the right channel to read local and national news.
“I’ll be God-damned!” shouted Ballard.
Greg and Billy came into the family room at top speed, which was noticeably slower than their efforts would have been in 2012.
“Check this out Billy. You’re a star.” Ballard exclaimed.
Much to his surprise and delight, Billy glanced at the screen. There was a picture of Billy, smiling, and underneath a caption that read:
“Does this man know how to save the planet?”
Greg put his arm around his buddy and said to his friend, “Maybe Sampson did you a favor after all?”
“Sure.” He scrolled down through the story. Ballard read it aloud.
“Local viewers in the Chicago area were treated to one of the most unusual interviews of the year on September 26th when Gretchen Sampson sat down with a candid, and a bit overwhelmed, Billy Callahan. They discussed his recent re-awakening from a fifty-year coma. Callahan says he spent that time watching an alien race land on earth, and eventually, ruin the earth, leaving the planet scarred and damaged. Sampson did her best to make Billy look the fool, but since the interview aired, it has gone viral and splinter groups believe Callahan may be on to something. Even those who find his story compelling, find fault with the details of his explanation. Yet, they insist Billy may be the perfect man to help the Green movement take hold of America. Mr. Callahan was hurt in 2012, during an earthquake in Israel, called the ‘Negev Monster’. Billy Callahan’s father Jack, was, at the time, a star of television’s long running show, “Mud Man”, and he died in the quake saving his son.”
Billy grabbed the remote from Ballard’s hands.
“This is nothing…”
“Wait, let me keep reading” said Ballard. He took back the controller and continued.
“Alan Bansoi, the current leader of the Green Party, thinks Billy may have a role in the upcoming election. Bansoi said,
‘Perhaps Billy would like to speak to the Green delegation at our convention next week? That would draw attention to our cause. I think Americans would like to hear
his story.’ ”
“That’s it!” yelled Billy. “The teacher told me I have to save the world, warn the people, and this is a chance to let millions of people hear my message. Greg, call that lawyer back in Cleveland and see if he can contact that Bonsoi guy!”
“Now hold on a minute Billy, I don’t want you to rush into anything.”
Billy showed determination for the first time since his revival.
“Greg, you don’t get it. We’re in trouble. The teacher told me. We don’t have the luxury of time, I have to deliver my messages, and besides, how else am I going to reach so many people at one time? I didn’t bring it up, Bonsoi did.”
Greg reconsidered his opinion, “If you think you’re ready to talk in front of 20,000 people in a stadium, and know that millions of people are listening to you from their home and mobile networks, go ahead, save the planet. God knows we need it.”
“I’m going to do that,” said Billy triumphantly.
Greg walked out of the room towards his office. Ballard stopped him before he left, “Where are you going?”
“I’m calling Mr. Cohen in Cleveland.”
CHAPTER 26
Ocotber 12, 2060 - Denver, Colorado
The Molly Brown Museum was a fitting place for the first meeting between Alan Bonsoi and Billy Callahan. Brown was one of the few survivors of the “Titanic” and became a leading women’s rights leader in the early part of the 20th century. Billy was a survivor, too, and although he didn’t know anything about Molly Brown, he was impressed with the stone façade of the building, located on a tree-lined Pennsylvania Street.
Bonsoi greeted Billy, Greg, and Ballard at the front door of the museum. Bonsoi exchanged handshakes and turned to Billy.
“I’m so glad we were able to meet. Come, follow me where we can talk in private.”
Bonsoi led the way through the foyer and down the hall to the right, to a conference room with eight chairs. Pitchers of water and empty glasses waited on a metallic buffet table.
Billy flashed back to the scene were Leeta and Rerick were haggling about peace proposals and the destruction of the orbs.
Bonsoi interrupted his thoughts with a question. “Billy, do you want a glass of water?”
“Yea, thanks, how’d you know I’m always thirsty?” Now he looked at Bonsoi for the first time. He was the tallest man in the room, easily besting Ballard.
“I didn’t, it’s just a common courtesy.”
“Geez you’re tall, how tall are you?” asked Billy.
“I’m six-foot eight. I think I lost a little due to gravity and old age. I swear I was six-nine when I played pro basketball.”
“That’s almost as tall as the people I saw on Tenegraw,” said Billy.
Bonsoi didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to meet Billy to satisfy his curiosity to judge whether Billy would be able to withstand the pressure of speaking at the upcoming Green Party Convention in two weeks. That would give the party eight days to convince the public to vote for the Green party. News polls showed the Green party running a distant third to the Republicans and Democratic parties, but if they could push their percentage of the vote to the 30% mark, it would be the largest third party vote since Ross Perot collected almost 20% of the vote in 1992. A compelling showing at the polls would give party members the belief that significant progress, perhaps in even victory, could be achieved in 2064, when President Dodge, if re-elected, would not be allowed to run for a third term and the presidential race would be wide open.
Bonsoi’s grey hair was combed straight back, exposing a sharp widow’s peak at the base of the hairline, and he wore dark sunglasses. Eye surgery to correct astigmatism in his right eye had gone well, but shortly after the operation, he developed an infection and now his right eye wobbled slightly if he walked too quickly. Bonsoi moved slowly, resembling a sloth. The condition prevented him from seeking higher office. Bonsoi was at the top of the Green Party, but he knew that he needed to stay on the sidelines while others, those with more pleasing faces could garner more votes from a fickle public.
Bonsoi removed the sunglasses, exposing both eyes to Billy, who tried to avoid making direct contact with the damaged eye. He placed the lenses on the table, tapping them gently on the table while he talked to his potential guest speaker.
“I don’t believe you’re telling the truth about what happened to you back in the hole in the desert back in 2012. What I want to find out is if you can sell it to 20,000 people sitting right in front of you, and with three cameras circling around you at the same time, each sending live images of you around the world. Those who look to discredit you will judge every drop of sweat, every misspoken word, and your entire presentation. They will edit your words, reconfigure them to serve their purpose and make you appear to be a buffoon. Is that something you can handle? If not, I need to know that now. I’m not putting all my eggs in your basket unless you can sell me on it. If it doesn’t fit right now, I get it, and we can ease you into the Green Party, and ask for your help in four years.”
“I think I get your point,” said Billy. “We might not have four more years.”
“Sell me, what would you tell the crowd?” asked Bonsoi.
“I suppose I’d tell them a brief version of my story, but I would concentrate on how the lessons from the teacher could be used by the people living today, on this earth, at this time. What a messed up world we live in. If you think about it, even if nobody believed one single word I said, we need to do something to change people’s view of the world. I’m certainly doing that! So, I would use my time to reinforce how important it is that we take steps today to avoid a world-wide disaster.”
Bonsoi grabbed a pencil off the desk and began tapping it on the edge of the desk. He leaned back in the leather chair. In those few moments of contemplation he wondered how history would perceive him; brilliant leader that risked too much on the delusional thoughts of a madman? Or bold leader that used a topical headliner to alter the traditional two party systems in American politics?
He sat back up, leaned forward, and stared at Billy, trying to get inside the head of the man who claims to have seen the past.
“There’s less than a month until the election. I need to hit a home run at the convention, and you’re asking me to risk my professional reputation on you. That’s a lot to expect.”
Greg had been an observer until now, but he felt compelled to ask the obvious question.
“Mr. Bonsoi, you’ve received accolades from all walks of life, you’ve put aside your research projects and positions at highly regarded universities around the world to assume the lead position of the Green Party, and quite frankly, the Green Party is nothing more, forgive me, nothing more than a nuisance for the Republican party and some would say that your efforts have had a more profound negative affect on the Democratic party. I respectfully say that this is perfect time to take a leap of faith and as you say, in your baseball lingo…swing for the fences. Let Billy do his thing. He’ll have a couple of weeks to prepare for the speech and that will lead to a tremendous uptick in anticipation of the event.”
More deep thoughts echoed inside Bonsoi’s head. He exhaled, stood, and extended his hand to Billy.
“Let’s do this, Mr. Callahan. I’m confident that your compelling story will help push the needle upward in our environmental crusade.”
Billy leapt from the chair and shook his hands with the man that was going to help him fulfill the teacher’s urgent plea.
“I won’t let you down, Mr. Bonsoi, I promise, I won’t let you down.”
CHAPTER 27
October 14, 2060 - The White House, Washington DC
Inside the oval office, a high level meeting was taking place between President Dodge, his wife, Kathy, and a group of advisors, led by his re-election chairman Edward Klimchock.
Klimchock continued to use his index finger to reposition his round eyeglasses to atop the bridge of his nose.
“Mr. President, I know you’ve said t
here’s no reason for concern, but the polls show otherwise. This nutcase is making an impact and he hasn’t even spoken to the Green convention yet. Our insiders say it’s a done deal, he’s gonna speak.”
The President was irritated and sweating profusely.
“Can you have someone turn the air conditioning down a few degrees, it’s roasting in here. Honey, aren’t you sweltering?”
The first lady nodded her head in compliance. The temperature in the room was satisfactory for her, but she always supported him in public or in front of the staff. Before he became President, she ran the roost, but this marriage included three people: her, her husband, and the American people. She was third in line, but she had her moments. A White House staffer adjusted the thermostat and the cool air rushed by her shoulders and headed to the desk of the most powerful man in the world.
President Dodge removed his glasses, wiped the sweat off his face with the left sleeve of his freshly starched white button down shirt, and returned his attention to Klimchock.
“Ed, come on. The only way I can screw up this election is to do or say something so irresponsible, so across the board repugnant that it goes beyond description. So what if Callahan brings the Green up five or ten percent. They can’t win, and Dems don’t benefit from their success. You need to relax.”
“Mr. President, I say this with admiration, and respect for the great job you’ve done in your first term, and your goals for the second term. Sir, I don’t count any victory until the game is over, and we have twenty days until the election. That’s an eternity in the world of politics; you know that better than anyone else in the room.”
“Fine Ed, fine, let’s say you’re right about all this. Let’s agree that the victory could slip out of my hands in an improbable defeat. What do you want me to do about it today?”
“I want you to avoid making any condemnations of Callahan and anything he says. I don’t care if he says he’s Jesus, or Gandhi, or the God damn messiah sent from heaven to make peace in the Middle East. Don’t broach the subject. Is that clear?”
The Two Worlds of Billy Callahan Page 11
