by Jean Pamplin
Sally caught Bud’s return stare and found her own cheeks heating. Wow. “You can’t be coming on to every woman that comes in this office.”
Bud relaxed and laughed. “Not every woman—just one.” He laid his glasses on a pile of papers.
“Let’s meet for dinner,” Sally blurted out.
“I’m willing.”
A comfortable silence followed. Sally finally broke it. “I’ve got something to share. But first, you did tell me at some point that a man disappeared from here in the ’40s, and that his initials were A.G.—right?”
“I don’t remember, but I probably did.”
“You did. I was looking up A.G. Jones at the time.”
“Well, if you remembered, why are you asking me?”
“Just prolonging the surprise.” Sally’s face barely restrained her excitement. “You know my neighbor, Eloise? A.G. Agee was her uncle. The family termed him a bit crazy, but scientific-minded, and taken with Einstein and Tesla.”
Bud bent forward, his interest apparent.
Sally rushed on. “I’ve been looking up information on Einstein’s theories. He believed time was an illusion and a true 4th dimension doesn’t have time. Info on the internet suggests we could travel ten thousand years into the future and age only one year. If A.G. Jones is A.G. Agee, and the guy really disappeared into the future, he would not have aged like normal. Eloise must be in her ’90s, so an uncle would be dead by now...unless...” Sally left the question hanging.
Bud jumped up. “That’s why he showed up at the Senior Center.”
Sally matched his move and sprang from her chair. “What are you talking about?”
“The Center was once A.G. Agee’s Insurance Company. Remember the faded sign on the brick?”
“No. But if you do, that’s all that matters.” She ran around the desk and gave Bud a big hug, dancing him into her arms. “We’ve got it.”
“That’s why the news reported him missing. He went on a time travel walkabout.” Bud’s grip loosened. He bent to plant a kiss.
She pulled back, then moved forward to bury herself in the moment. They giggled like kids caught in some kind of puberty surge. Sally could only wonder at the crazy magic. In confusion, she stepped away.
Still excited, Bud shook himself and salvaged a stoic expression. “A trip like that would require an energy source.”
“Maybe a glitch, like Elliott’s always talking about.”
“Tesla’s coils?” Bud’s eyebrows crinkled.
“Maybe. What does that mean?”
Neither of them knew for sure. In an effort to gain control, Sally gushed on with her new as-found-online information. “We live in a three-dimensional world. A fourth-dimension is considered space-time. Do you suppose the man was able to switch dimensions? Our universe could have up to ten dimensions. One physicist thinks God resides in at least the ninth-dimension to be able to do all that the Bible says he can.”
“So?”
Bud’s thick response irritated Sally. This guy can take me from hot to cold in sixty seconds or less. She struggled to get back on track. “Look, Jones has disappeared. The guy used the term time bender. What if he came here to get away from some future asteroid? Could he have the ability to change times at will?”
“I don’t think so. Everything I’ve read suggests traveling backward in time involves some kind of black hole activity or cosmic bend.”
“Yet, if we’re right, A.G. Agee did.”
“Okay. Say he did. Maybe the asteroid influenced the jump back here. We know it wasn’t an easy landing. Without some kind of implanted chip, he can’t leave this time period—unless the original glitch that sent him forward can be repeated. If he could reproduce it, where would he go?”
“I don’t even know where he is right now. If he’s a decent guy, he needs to take his science-loving heart to a time period that can implement some plan to stop the asteroid. If one’s due to hit in 2029, that’s really close.” Sally suddenly felt a surge of panic. “We need to find the guy and his possible time-bender chip. After all, it’s our future too. Maybe we help in some way.”
“I don’t see us being able to cause a cosmic loop, or bend space-time, and if A.G. tried it, the power company in town would report a surge.”
“What would he have used in the ’40s to propel himself forward? What if it was a Tesla coil?” Sally’s eyes jerked like a computer rapidly searching for information.
“Surely x-rays would have discovered a power chip inside his body.” Bud paused. “Unless future innovations include an organic chip.”
“Oh, Bud, if a time chip is involved, then an asteroid really is going to hit earth.”
Bud sighed. “We’ve been looking for him. Elliott can’t track fingerprints that aren’t recorded. He can’t track clothing manufacturers that may not even be in business yet. The guy seems to have just disappeared.”
Sally bowed her head. “Lord, walk beside us. Clear the heavy air with the lightness of Your Presence, that we may radiate Your healing peace when the limits of science, time, and the human body overwhelm us.”
“Amen!” Bud’s adamant response surprised Sally, but not his abrupt change to business as usual. “What time should I pick you up?”
“The Speakeasy is open late tonight, a coffee party of some kind. How about we meet there for a salad around six?”
“Sounds great.”
“By the way, the asteroid might be the Wormwood Star of Revelation. Check it out.” Sally’s worry touched her eyes. “If the asteroid is Wormwood, then we are in the real end-times the Bible speaks of. That’s worse than just a rampaging rock, it means the end of this world as we know it.”
Bud’s eyebrows pinched together. “I’ll try and catch Elliott before we meet, see if he’s found out anything.”
The meeting ended on a rather sober note. Not necessarily what Sally intended. She’d come into the office bubbling over with knowing someone actually related to A.G. Then the implications of the whole affair took off. She vowed to make their light dinner a more pleasing event.
Before she left the office, Bud called Elliott and left the speaker on so she could hear.
“Well, the glass Dr. Strange gave you shows no gray color like volcanic glass might,” Elliott reported. “It’s clear, just like tektite glass. It also shows swirls which indicate a fluid state at some point. I experimented on the piece by slightly heating it with an oxy-acetylene flame. There was no reaction, no pumice. I didn’t want to go white hot lest it shatter, which is the nature of tektite. It’s still evidence at this point.”
“So it could be a meteor chip?” Bud asked.
“This is not my area of expertise, but it’s possible.”
“What about the ash?”
“The hospital probably took a sample to try and find a source for the burns on the man’s body. If mud at a crime scene matches with mud on a suspect’s shoe, that’s one thing, but this has no comparable. I did check for any reported local area fires in that timetable. Nothing.”
A pause, and then Elliot ventured, “If Jones crashed into the Senior Center, bleeding and comatose from time travel and a fight with an asteroid—as you suggested—where is he?”
“A good question. We’ll be in touch. Thanks for checking, Elliott.”
Bud hung up. “Why didn’t you tell him Jones is A.G. Agee?”
“I don’t know.”
In a way, Sally was glad they were the only two sharing the revelation. She gave Bud a quick hug. This is getting all too common. She pulled away. “See you later.”
***
Misty Dawn and Joseph were head to head when Elliott stepped into the Speakeasy Coffeehouse. The conversation looked serious.
“Hi Joseph... Misty.” There was a question in his words as well as a salutation.
Joseph motioned with his hand, not now.
Misty, on the other hand, seemed glad for the interruption. “Hi, Elliott. I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ve got to get back to wo
rk.”
“I told you, not now.” Joseph fussed at his friend for the interruption.
Elliott laughed. “If this is the romantic setting you told me you were planning, you need help.”
“You should talk, asking Mazie to marry you in an office setting.”
“Touché.”
“Oh, well. I needed to tell you about a possible Jones clue, anyway. Sit down.” Joseph kept his voice low. “A fellow at the hospital said he thought there was somebody named A.G. Jones staying with Red, the old fella who hangs out at Sweeny’s Garage.”
“Red must be a hundred. He worked at Sweeny’s when I was a kid and he was old then. His little clapboard house is close to the garage. Why would he let anyone stay with him?”
“I don’t know. I’m just passing on information.”
“Want to go with me?” Elliott pressed the issue. Misty must be affecting Joseph’s hearing.
“Huh? Oh…I guess so, since my almost-bride appears to be busy. Your car or mine?”
CHAPTER 8
RED SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOME, afternoon nap time and all. Elliott knocked front and back, then rubbed years of dirt and webs off a window to see in. Nothing but old furniture and more dust.
“Does he still drive?” Joseph asked from the car.
“Not if he’s smart. The last time he tried that, the Sheriff escorted him home. The Water Department had to shut off the water to fix the hydrant he hit. Red’s car is probably still considered a confiscated weapon.”
Joseph laughed. “Let’s try Sweeny’s. We can stay parked here.”
Ed stuck his head out from underneath a car joisted in the air, oil draining into a pan at his feet. “No, haven’t seen him today.”
“Reckon where he might be?”
“Can’t rightly say. But he has been courting an old lady he met at his last doctor’s visit.” The mechanic laughed. “Never too old. Guess there’s hope for all of us.”
The boys caught the jest and joined in.
“Do you know the lady’s name?”
A negative grunt met Joseph’s question.
“You asking in case Misty turns you down?” Elliott jabbed.
“No, just thought I might know her from church.”
Elliott laughed, then turned back to Sweeny. “By the way, Ed, has anybody been staying with Red lately?”
“Not that he’s said.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Ed saluted them with a wrench. “Call me next time you need an oil change.”
“Well, that was a wasted trip.” Joseph complained.
“Nothing’s ever wasted. There was a capacitor and some other tools on the table behind Red’s house. Why would Red need a capacitor?”
“That’s something that would hold an electrical charge, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but not a charge big enough to make a large Tesla coil.” Elliott caught Joseph’s confused look. “Every time traveler, at least in theory, would need a power source.”
“You’re serious?”
“I think I’ll stop back by Red’s later this afternoon.”
***
A.G. stepped from a closet. Probably somebody checking on Red, but no need to take chances. Luckily, if he needed it, the old Tesla coil was still in the barn on family property. Eloise hadn’t sold the place. Neither had her kids—yet. But the “For Sale by Owner” sign stuck in the ground out front indicated it wouldn’t be long. Well, he didn’t need much time.
He bagged the stuff off the backyard table and borrowed Red’s ancient bike. The farm wasn’t far and a bicycle was less likely to catch attention, plus easy to hide.
The gate was locked. He lifted the bike over and followed. Nobody would even know he was there.
Agee shook what fine, frizzy hair he could off his face and finger-brushed his eyebrows. He peered toward the shadows at the far corner of the barn. The structure’s roof was still good, and the Tesla coil, his original ticket to the future, hugged the back wall.
What a relief! Even the old tools were scattered just like he’d left them. Lucky Eloise inherited the family farm. She was sentimental enough to hang on to it. For a minute, A.G. wondered if she was alive. Maybe her kids were selling the place. No matter. He brushed dust from the mountain of what must have looked like junk to her. He was glad she hadn’t had anyone come remove it.
How old would I be in this time period? Long dead, that’s what I’d be. Agee gave a hearty laugh. It cracked and he coughed from the stirred-up dust. He rubbed his front teeth. No more buck teeth to hold the dirt back. He’d taken care of that first thing when he hit the future. Amazing. They just stuck in salvaged stem cells from dental pulp and new teeth grew in—not like the originals, thank God.
Maybe being surrounded by memories brought back the taunts, “Hey, Squirrel, need a nut?” or “Hey, how about a carrot?” I showed them all. Too bad all of them are dead. Another burst of sharp laughter. He remembered inviting a few friends in at the promise of developing their sexual power by using the Tesla coil. He could still see the jolt hit them, their eyes widen, and sparks fly. In exchange for his silence concerning the experiment—and their gullibility—they agreed to a civil relationship.
Though the deed evoked laughter in his thoughts, he kept his word and even insured their cars when he went into the business. Maybe nostalgia was the order of the day. The old Royal typewriter that he’d been working to develop into a time machine had weirdly glitched and taken his employee, Maeve Davis and her friend on an excursion to the typewriter’s future location.
Luckily, the machine returned with added manipulations that enabled him, along with a detailed study of Einstein’s and Tesla’s work, to send himself into the future. When Maeve finally broke down and told him of their short stay at the future Speakeasy Coffeehouse, she didn’t know it, but her bold story fired off his future.
Returning to that same time period had been luck, a fluke, or something planned by a greater being than himself. The asteroid’s appearance nipped his carefree time traveling. The rock had been visible for some time, like a spinner pitch flying across home base. The world was in a panic. People either stayed on their knees, or would-be scientists like himself worked to somehow throw it off target. A final solution that may have worked came too late to employ.
Wormholes were still not completely understood, but he and a friend had worked the calculations. If they could provoke a cosmic tunnel on the target’s trajectory, the asteroid would possibly enter it and loop back the opposite direction.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to complete the task. Fiery space rocks spewed ahead of the main asteroid, pelting through the atmosphere, sparking fires wherever they hit. It was almost too late to use the time bending chip. He’d planned on being in the future, not the past—and definitely not in Quitman, Texas. But there was always the chance any forward movement might have ended up on a dead earth. Projections had indicated only a third of the population would die, but who knew? The thought was terrifying enough that he had to try and time bend into the future with several months allowed to at least try and stop the mountainous rock.
He believed in prayer, didn’t expect himself to be the great hero, but everyone had a destiny, a perfect path. Maybe his was to be at the right place at the right time with an idea. And maybe not. If the asteroid was the Wormwood Star of Revelation, then nothing would stop what God was allowing. Still, God did promise a new earth. That thought was refreshing no matter what transpired in his attempt to return to the future soon enough to try the wormhole idea.
A.G. picked up a wrench. The capacitor and smart phone he’d invested in might work to provide a power surge big enough to prompt the time bender chip implanted in his arm to work. The big Tesla coil might be needed. At least here, he had tools and time to work without being watched. The first thing he did was check power. Good old Eloise. The bare bulb above his head lit up. The electricity was still on.
***
Elliott left work a little early. His amazi
ng Grace—soon-to-be wife—promised to hold down the fort at the office. He couldn’t believe his good luck. Mazie was smart, pretty, and as much of an investigator as himself. She loved to read mysteries and had developed their wedding invitation into a treasure map that guests would have to figure out in order to get to the location of the nuptials.
Misty planned to leave town after the wedding. That is, if Joseph didn’t man up and convince her she needed to be his forever mate.
There Red was, just opening his door. Elliott jumped out of the car.
“Hey, Elliott. What’s Up?” The jovial old man still had a memory for names. “Come on in.”
“Can’t, just stopped for a couple of quick questions.”
“Shoot. Guess it’s best, these days, just to say ask.” He snickered at his own humor.
Elliott returned a smile. “I’ve been looking for a fellow named Jones. Heard you had someone staying with you that might be him.”
“Sure do. He came into Sweeny’s asking about a cheap place to stay. I figured, me being involved with a sweet young thing, I might need money for chocolates. That new gal of mine does like sweets.” He motioned Elliott inside. “Jones should be here.”
Elliott followed him into the dark, quiet house. No one there. The men checked out back. “Looks like he snatched my old bike. That won’t take him far. Reckon he’ll be back later. Want me to have him call you?”
“No, don’t necessarily want him expecting me.”
“He’s not wanted for some crime, is he?”
“No, just questioning. By the way, I noticed a capacitor and some stuff earlier when I came by and you weren’t here. You working on something?”
“Probably belongs to Jones. He bought a mighty fine smart phone. Not that I’d use one, but he showed me a few of the programs on there. My girl and I still conversate the old way.” Another wide smile soothed out Red’s wrinkles.
“Do you mind if I come back later? I’ll just park across the street and wait for him to come in.”
“Knock yourself out. I’ll be out late, anyway. Me and Clary are going to a movie, may stay over at her house, if I’m lucky.” Red winked at Elliott. “House is open, and there’s beer in the fridge.”
