Justification For Killing

by Larry Edward Hunt

  “Need me a Phillips head screwdriver,” he said opening the toolbox.

  As Clem was opening the lid on the box of greasy, dirt coated tools they both heard the swooshing sound of air escaping again. The hatch was closing. “Oh dadburn John I hope I don’t git a fit of that closetphobee. I never did like these little bitty closed in places. How’em I gonna’ get out on this thang?”

  “Don’t worry Clem, we only had five minutes to get IN Pegasus, but I have a button right here,” Captain Scarburg said pointing, “I can use it to open the hatch at any time to get OUT.”

  “Thanks,” Clem said not too enthusiastically.

  “What are you doing Clem? What are you and Mike Watkins up to?”

  “Nothing, I’m jest goin’ to fix this here flyin’ machine of you’rn John. It ain’t nothin’ but a big ole shinny John Deere tractor without wheels, and it ain’t painted green, as fer as I can make out. Well, it is a little diff’rent – it flies... but if’en I had the parts I believe I could git my ole green tractor into the air. It ain’t bragging if’en you can do it.”

  Down on the floor Clem went, screwdriver in hand. He worked feverishly at the circuit breaker panel. Next he opened up a larger panel on the rear wall. This panel was large enough to allow Clem to crawl inside. The Captain looked on in amazement. “Hand me that thar Cresant ranch John.”

  Pegasus will never be worth a red cent after Clem gets through with it! The Captain thought. What am I saying - of course it won’t be worth anything - no one will ever be able to find it! And besides who ever heard of working on delicate, highly sophisticated, electronic, computer equipment with a screwdriver and an adjustable wrench?

  “Pass me that thar big hammer John.”

  “Are you kidding me...!!” the Captain said, reluctantly handing Clem the hammer.

  “Okay John, watch that gauge that has to put you down in the right place and call me out the numbers. They’re fixin’ to start changin’... you ready?”

  “Yeah Clem, ready,” he replied unenthusiastically.

  “Alright, here goes... what happened John?”

  The Captain half-heartedly turned around to look at the GPS gauges not expecting anything to happen... He was right, nothing changed, “Sorry Clem the number did not change!”

  “Try’er now John... what do the number say now?”

  Excitedly the Captain answered, “What... this cannot be!! Clem the 96 in ‘DESTINATION’ changed to 97.”

  “Galldurn wiggled the wrong bunch of shiny thangs... what about now?”

  ‘John’ had his eyes glued on the dials now, “the 77 in ‘RETURN’ dropped to 76...” he relayed to Clem.

  “Galldurn it, got to move over another passel of pluggey thangs... hold on I got to move a wire... okay, what about now...?”

  “That’s it Clem! That’s it... the 47 dropped to 46... keep her up Clem...”, the Captain hollered. He began yelling the numbers as they descended: 45, 44, 43, 42, 41, 40, 39, 38, 37... Whoa... Stop... Clem you got it right on the money.” The ‘RETURN” dial now read 38 degrees 57 minutes 0 seconds North, 77 degree 37 minute 35 seconds West, exactly as it should have been from the start. But the date was locked in to November 20, 1312. Clem needed to change the date to November 19, 2012. “Clem the date is still 20 can you change it to 19?”

  “Sorry John, I can’t find the thang-ah-ma-jig that controls that there date thang. “But,” yelled Clem from inside the console, “look on the bright side, yer gonna get wharever yer goin’ a day later, but you won’t be wet! Whoa! John! I thank I found the son-of- a-gun that runs that return day thanggy. John,” Clem hollered.

  “Yeah? That’s great Clem.”

  “John, this here wire that runs to the date thang ain’t hooked up right. It’s jest dangling here. It shore looks like somebody did this a purpose. I don’t believe this here wire could’ve fell off by itself. Somebody done pulled this thang off! Hold the fort, let me put this here wire back on. Now then, that’s got ‘er. What happened John?”

  “Well I’ll be! Clem, the ‘one’ in 1312 changed to a ‘two’ and the ‘three’ changed to a ‘zero’!! Now we have 2012. This thing was programmed to return me back to the year 1312. I would have splashed down in the Potomac nearly 183 years before Columbus discovered America!”

  “Dadburn John, I believe somebody don’t want you to git back home! What you thank? Hold on John, I’m gone to change this here yellow wire with the blue wire... now what?”

  “Great Clem, the ‘one’ changed back to a ‘two’ and the ‘three’ is back to ‘zero’. She’s right now, except for the day.”

  “All righty, now that I know what this here blue wire does this here red wire must change the day...” After a second or two he asked, “What’d it do John?”

  “By-ned Clem... you did it, the day is now ‘20’. Just one more click and the day will be the 19th.”

  “Sorry John, that there war that would’ve done that is missin’. Somebody done stole that thang. I can’t change it to ‘9’, is this bad?”

  “That’s okay, Clem I’ll just be a day later, that is no problem. I will get home on the 20th instead of the 19th that will be fine, don’t worry Clem, you’re doing great!”

  “Thanks, now fer that darn little blinkie red light. If’en I don’t get that bugger switched off me and you‘er goin’ to be nabors fer a long spell... what’s that light doin now?”

  “Still blinking,” answered Captain Scarburg.

  “Hand me them big pair of Vice-Grip plyers...

  “Vice-Grip pliers? I’m not even going to ask. Here,” the Captain said handing the pliers to Clem.

  “What about now?”

  “Nope, still blinking.”

  “Dadburn, why didn’t I see that in the first place... okay... check’er out now... how we doin’?” Asked Clem.

  “Well I’ll be... the light is out Clem... it’s dark as a dungeon. Come on out of that hole and let me shake your hand.”

  Clem’s head appeared first, still wearing that old, brown, sweat stained, tattered cowboy hat he had on that first day he and Captain Scarburg met. It had only been two days earlier, but it seemed like a million years.

  Clem was grinning from ear to ear, “Told you I was a handy man, John... guess you’ll believe me now, huh? Oh, I squeezed two of them pluggy thangs together to stop that blinkie red light, I can’t be sure, but I thank you may be okay.”

  Picking up one of Clem’s saying, “Your galldurn right I believe you Clem. You’re a genius... by-ned, a genius, and I’m confident you fixed that red light.”

  GOOD BYE MY FRIEND

  “Well,” said Clem, “I guess it’s time to be agoin’. John it has, what can I say, been an experience meetin’ you and...”

  “Hold on a second... I cannot in good faith let you go without telling you something. It’s about me. You see Clem, I’m not whom you think I am. My name is not John Doees... My real name is Robert Edward Scarburg, Jr. They call me Captain because of my rank when I was in the Army. I’m known as Captain Robert Scarburg.”

  “Why? Why didn’t you just give me yer real name when we first met John?”

  “I didn’t want to put you in a bad position to lie if things had gone wrong in all our little adventures in Dallas, if questioned, you could have truthfully told them my name was John Doees. I was just trying to protect you and Penelope - please forgive me for my feeble attempt at deception, will you?”

  “Shore John... uh... uh, Captain... I ain’t blamin’ you. You jest had a hard job to do and you dun done it. But I take exception with them words ‘little adventures.’ There sure warnt nothing little about them.”

  “No Clem, WE did it. And the name John’s fine.... here’s something I want you to have.” Unsnapping the clasp on the Rolex band from his arm he handed the watch to Clem. “I want you to have this - it was given to me by some of my closest friends in Vietnam. I consider you one of my very special friends now. Someday you can get the crystal replaced, or you can sell the wa
tch. You already know it is eighteen karat gold. It’s inscribed to me on the back, so now you will always know my name, and speaking of watches I really appreciate Penelope allowing me to use hers, please give her watch back and give her my thanks.”

  “What does this writtin’ say on the back... uh...Captain?”

  “It’s inscribed “To Capt Robert Edward Scarburg, Jr. 5th SF (ABN), RVN, 1968.”

  “Well Captain you still didn’t tell me what it sez!”

  “Okay, it reads, “To Captain Robert Edward Scarburg, Junior, 5th Special Forces, Airborne, Republic of Vietnam, 1968”, is that better?”

  “Thanks John, I mean Captain, yeah that’s much better.”

  “By the way, here is something else I want you and Penelope to have. You two will be the only humans possessing objects like these for the next forty-nine years. Until then they could be worth a million dollars, who knows, they are the only two in existence in 1963, but in 2012, there will be millions of them, and then they will only be worth a quarter, a mere twenty-five cents.” As he spoke, the Captain handed Clem two brand new ‘George Washington’ quarters. The date stamped on the front of one quarter was ‘2004’ and on the reverse was a map of Texas. It was a Texas State Quarter released in June 2004, the other was a regular ‘George Washington’ quarter issued in 2012. The Captain continued, “Quarters like these will not be produced and released until the year 2004 and 2012. With the two quarters and the watch I wish you could remember me each time you look at them, but of course I know you will not be able to.”

  “Shore John me and Penelope will always ‘member you.”

  “I wish that were true Clem I’ll explain in a minute. I almost forgot, here Clem take this ten-dollar bill that Linda thought was counterfeit back in Uncle Jack’s bar. It’s real Clem, it’s not counterfeit, but you will have to wait to 2012 to spend it also.”

  “Ah, Shucks John... thanks - dadburn I wont never be sellin’ your watch and other stuff. I’ll treasure these thangs forever, well until 2012, if’en I live that long. I’m goin’ take’em home, and Penelope is goin’ put’em in that wooden box on the farplace mantle. That’s whur she keeps her ‘valuables’ so she can ‘member whur they’re at.”

  Standing for a second or so Captain Scarburg was hesitant to speak. He did not want to explain the last bit of information he had for Clem. “Speaking of remembering Clem, there is something else I have to tell you. After you leave I will be waiting here, invisible, until exactly 12:31 p.m. tomorrow afternoon when I will, hopefully, return home to the year 2012. The thing is Clem... exactly six hours later at 6:31 p.m. the memories of each and every person whom I have come into contact with will have their memories erased. At 6:32 tomorrow, you will never know I was here Clem. I am truly sorry, but those people in the stars... the ones that I told you about... decided it would be this way. You and Penelope will never remember me - but rest assured Clem I will never forget you and Penelope... my dear friends.”

  Captain Scarburg’s eyes were beginning to tear up. Turning so Clem would not see, he wiped them with the sleeve of his flight suit. Turning back he said, “Good bye my good friend, maybe we’ll meet again someday, who knows what the future will bring.

  “Mighty thanks to you John. You know I ain’t got nothin’ worth somethin’ to give you but...,” taking off his cowboy hat he handed it to the Captain, “my old hat is about all I treasure in this life... well ‘cept Penelope... it belonged to my Pap... the hats you’rn John...”

  “Put your hat back on one last time Clem, I need a picture to remember you by.” With a fast click, the Iphone had recorded another instant in the year 1963. Captain Scarburg, taking the old, brown, sweat stained, tattered cowboy hat said, “this is a present better than a gold monkey, I will treasure it always, good bye Clem. Oh, I almost forgot, do you still have that pink napkin I gave you in your Uncle Jack Ruby’s place. The one with the gangster names on it?”

  Handing the napkin to Captain Scarburg, they shook hands, and the Captain pressed the button opening the outer hatch. Clem crawled out of Pegasus; turned the key on the old mufferless, Ford F-600, bucket of bolts, and with a loud roar drove off into the cold Texas night. Before the hatch closed and re-sealed Captain Scarburg reached into a small, drawstring, black velvet bag and removed a six inch bronze circular plaque, hurrying to the hatch he tossed the object out into the dew-covered grass of the pasture. Had anyone been present to see, he would have observed glistening in the slight moonlight a beautiful engraved plaque divided into four equal sections. In one, a face of a man; the second a lion, the third a bull and the final section contained an eagle.

  Staring at the round disk lying in the grass the Captain could not help but reminisce about the time he heard Spook’s wife Tinker tell of her abduction by Anhur and his fellow Sunev aliens. Fortunately for Tinker, Anhur turned out to be a kind and understanding friend to Tinker. He alone, kept her from harm when his fellow aliens accidentally killed the other Pac Toul prisoners. The aliens, along with their prisoners, were trying to flee the Captain, his father Big S and Spook as the three stormed the stronghold at Pac Toul. Tinker described in detail the ‘flying saucer’ the aliens used for transportation, which included the Sunev symbol, embossed on the front of the craft – the circle with the face of a man; the lion; a bull and the eagle.

  Much later the Captain would discover the aliens had been coming to Earth for thousands of years, in fact, the prophet Ezekiel in the Bible witnessed them. He described them in detail. The Book of Ezekiel Chapter One, Verse Ten, states: ‘Each had a human face in front, a face of a lion on the right side, a face of an ox on the left side, and the face of an eagle at the back.’

  Funny, the Captain though, this will all happen four years in the future... 1967!! (Papa Scarburg, the Captain and Spook rescued Tinker from the aliens in Cambodia in 1967.)

  Shaking his head in disbelief he stood at attention and executed a snappy military salute to the sentimental object. Watching the hatch close and seeing the trucks taillights fading into the distance, he said out loud, “Thank you my friend.”

  Clem watched in his rear-view mirror as Pegasus disappeared. For a second he questioned his sanity, was this all real? Did he dream the Captain, Pegasus, the assassination? Contemplating these surreal events he was jolted back to reality when he noticed hanging from his wench pulley on the back of his wrecker: a white, dung smeared towel with the letters S.C.A.R. embossed in the very center. Yes, it was real all right.

  Eight hours to lift-off. ‘Think I’ve got enough time to catch me a few zzzs. It’s been a really long day,’ thought the Captain.

  The time was 4:30 a.m. November 23, 1963.

  Chapter Twenty

  RETURN TO THE PRESENT

  Mike Watkins, working at his lab table was startled by the sudden sound of rushing air. It reminded him of a flock of birds passing overhead. Turning he could see something similar to a wispy mist of vapor forming in the center of the room where Pegasus had been sitting. Placing the instrument he was holding onto the nearby table he ventured out of his laboratory room into the wide expanse of the Exit-Entrance Portal room.

  One step, then another, the closer he walked towards the center of the room the more the vapor began to take shape. Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, he thought, the Captain’s made it back. “Yes sir! Yes sir?” he said out loud, “That’s got to be him!” The employees in the surrounding offices heard the commotion and began to assemble around the interior stainless walls. They all wanted to see the fruits of their accomplishment too.

  Whoosh! It felt as if all the air from within the interior was being sucked into the vapor in the middle of the room. It was as if a miniature tornado were trying to form inside the building. Louder and louder the noise of the wind grew. Mr. Watkins, who at first was delighted to see the Captain returning, was now beginning to become alarmed. Maybe this wasn’t Captain Scarburg! This might be a tear in the fabric of time - in theory everything, and he meant everything in the entire universe
, could be sucked into the hole if a tear had occurred. What can I do, he thought? Nothing... nothing could be done if a tear existed, it was too late; however, as his last nerve was being tattered the winds began to subside. The blowing, whistling, wind like noise began to subside, and the metallic form of Pegasus began to take shape. Its silver outline became clearer and clearer. The fabric of time was not tearing it was just Captain Scarburg announcing his return home. Mike looked up on the wall to check the clock.

  The time was: 2:30:02 p.m. November 20, 2012.

  Twenty-four hour plus a few seconds had since the Captain had left earlier, but in the short period of time the whole universe had changed. Pegasus left Washington in one Parallel Universe, arrived in Texas in another, allowed the President to get killed, which changed the Universe again and returned back to Washington. As Anhur had said: revisiting our past could reap changes that can affect the future as well as the past.

  The sound of escaping air was the same sound Captain Scarburg and Clem had heard as they stood in the midnight darkness, miles from anywhere, in a deserted cow pasture forty miles north of Dallas, Texas. Mike Watkins could hear that very same sound; however, mixed in with the noise he heard the soft, melodious sound of Amazing Grace playing on the bagpipes. Slowly the hissing of air and the sound of music stopped; the hatch on the side slowly opened and the first thing Mr. Watkins saw was a head topped with an old, brown, sweat stained, tattered cowboy hat. It was sitting atop Captain Scarburg’s head as he sheepishly peeped outside.

  “Welcome home Captain... hope you had a pleasant trip,” Mike said grinning from the bottom of the entrance stairs hoping his heart would return to its normal beat.

  “How long have I been gone Mike?”

  “Hmmm... I’d say a day plus a couple of seconds, maybe, at best.”