by Jean Pamplin
“I won’t be going in, but thanks anyway.”
“Now, just so you know, that guy may not show up at all. He ain’t much for talking, but he does travel. My old bike ain’t seen so much action since I was still riding at seventy.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Oh, about twenty-thirty years.”
Elliott laughed and gave Red a hearty handshake. “I’m fair-warned. If you see Jones first, probably not a good thing to tell him I’m looking for him.”
***
Elliott and Mazie were snuggled up. “This is just like a real stake-out.”
“Well, close, but not exactly. But it does have the potential for a little one-on-one while we wait for Jones to get home.”
Mazie giggled and snuggled in when Elliott straightened his bowtie and nibbled at her neck. “Did you ever kiss my great-grandmother?”
“You are my one and only amazing Grace and I like the way the name Grace rolls off my tongue. May I call you Grace?”
“Grace it is. I always liked my middle name better than Mazie anyway, but those ‘M’ names were popular in my family.”
Darkness crowded in and they talked about everything from kindergarten sandbox to prom fiascos.
“You know, Brother Joseph wants to ask Misty to marry him.”
“She kinda figured that, but she’s more of a free spirit than I am. Even if he asks, I’m not sure she’ll say yes. I want her to. We could have a double wedding. That might be a problem though. How can a pastor conduct the ceremony to marry himself?”
“You mean officiate at his own wedding.”
“Yeah. Can it be done?”
“If not, there’s always the judge or some other wayward preacher.”
A horn honked and Elliott pulled his arm from around Mazie’s shoulders. It was Bud and Dr. Strange. They were both laughing.
“Can’t you young people find a more appropriate spot to park and spark?” Sally asked.
“Just a stakeout,” Mazie called over Elliott.
“Who you looking for?” Bud asked.
“Red’s got a guy named Jones staying with him. Thought it might be our guy. He’s been gone all day, but Red wasn’t sure he’d be in tonight either.”
“Is Red at home?” A bit of excitement sparked Bud’s question.
“No, he’s on a date.”
“Red?”
“Yeah, he found her while waiting for an appointment. Said it was the best thing ever happened to him at the doctor’s office.”
Dr. Strange laughed harder than all of them.
***
They drove off, the laughter echoing. “Before you even ask, I didn’t think we needed to tell all we knew about Jones with Elliott’s girlfriend in the car.”
Sally’s bright eyes sparked. “I wasn’t going to say a thing. In fact, I’m not sure how to explain our Mr. Jones and his connection to a real-life asteroid in our near future. Every time I repeat the information, I stress. I can feel it in my guts, then it goes to my brain and I start diagnosing myself. It was bad enough to spend childhood debating the Philadelphia Experiment, this is even worse because it’s not past—it’s future.”
Bud reached over to pat Sally’s hand, then jerked back when his tire hit a pothole and the steering wheel reacted. “The city needs to fix the streets. I think I’ll write an editorial to that effect.”
“Go get ’em, Tiger.”
“Are you razzing me?”
“No. Just saying, what’s a pothole in the scheme of things?” Sally wanted to gaze deep into Bud’s eyes and sink into his arms for a comforting hug, but she couldn’t. He was driving. Who would have thought she’d meet someone she actually cared about enough to consider him a lifetime mate, and in East Texas? She wasn’t sure there weren’t still some sharecroppers farming the bottoms.
“Wait a minute. Eloise has a farm for sale somewhere, old family land. You don’t suppose A.G. would be out there?”
Bud slid into a U-turn. “I most certainly do.”
About a mile or two out of town, Bud slowed the car. A hodgepodge of “For Sale by Owner” signs stacked one on top of the other decorated the post beside a closed and padlocked gate.
Sally’s interest was piqued. “Does your nose for news say we should try the gate?”
“Why, Sally Strange. Are you suggesting a break-and-enter? We’d be front-page news in my own paper.”
As if to emphasize his words, a police SUV pulled up behind them. A flashlight aimed toward Bud’s face blinded him, but he recognized the deputy’s voice behind it.
“Mr. Hubble? Are you having car trouble?”
“No. Appreciate your concern, Deputy, but we were about to turn around and head back to town. Dr. Strange just wanted to see the property Eloise had for sale.”
“Kinda dark for that, isn’t it?”
Sally bent across Bud to answer. “Oh, I just needed the location. I’ll come back and look at it tomorrow.”
“Well, let me know if you need anything, Dr. Strange.”
Sally gave the man a brilliant smile. “Certainly will. Thank you, Deputy.”
Lights flashing, the good Samaritan motioned Bud all was clear to turn around. “Well, it appears tonight is not good for snooping. Why don’t you bring Eloise with you and check the place out tomorrow?”
“Just what I was thinking. I’ll see if she can come with me after work.”
The jeep jerked and Bud growled. “Darn potholes.”
CHAPTER 9
“I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED me about seeing the farm. Are you actually thinking of investing in property?” Eloise smiled, her sharp eyes bright and curious. “I’d love to sell it to someone I know and like, but would that mean you’d be moving? You are a good neighbor when you pay attention to your cat. She sure yowls when you forget and lock her out.”
The old lady’s chatter had been non-stop ever since they left the apartment building. Sally heard about this relative and that, but Uncle A.G. hadn’t yet made the conversation.
At the gate, Eloise handed her the lockbox key. Dust curled around the tires, kicking up behind them. Sally slowed down in front of what looked like a tiny prairie mansion. Timbers worn gray from lack of paint bordered the adorable home.
“I was expecting more of a simple farmhouse.”
“Everybody does. My great grandmother was Scottish. If she couldn’t have her castle, she’d make do with a Texas mansion. Least that’s the family tale. I never did live here, just inherited when everybody else moved off or died. The perils of growing old.” A shadow of melancholy crossed the elderly woman’s lined features. “My daughter doesn’t have a heart for the place and wants me to get rid of it before I’m planted.”
Eloise’s abrupt honesty always surprised Sally. She helped her inside even though the woman controlled her walker like a pro. The place had potential. Smaller rooms but extensive charm. The fireplace was a keeper. A broom still stood sentry off to the side.
The stories rolled out of Eloise’s family memory files and Sally’s curiosity turned into admiration. She almost felt like a real potential buyer. Why would I want to buy a farm?
“There’s an old barn too,” Eloise confided. “Want to see it?”
“Are you up to it?”
“If you’ll push me out of any hole I might walk into. Last time I was there, I could still run. I hate spiders. The place is full of junk. We emptied the house except for that old piano—too heavy. Do you play?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Not well, but sound therapy has always been a favorite subject, so I occasionally pound away and listen to the different pitch of the notes and how they affect me.”
At first glance, Sally half expected one of God’s cows on a thousand hills to amble up to the barn. The place was picturesque to say the least.
“You go in and look around. I’ll wait out here.” Eloise found an old tree stump and plopped down.
Sally gingerly stepped into the dark interior. Mountains of old harnesses and eq
uipment hung on the stall walls, creating a slight but comfortable smell. She started not to go further until she spied something curiously familiar. The Tesla coil must have been an A.G. project. She suddenly envisioned a clear mental picture of him surrounded by sparking high voltage coming from the low current coil, his frizzy hair caught in the static electricity.
She stared at the fresh handprint on the dusty worktable. Somebody had been checking the high frequency transformer. Sally’s heart clamored as if trying to break free of her chest. This was Mr. Jones, a.k.a. Agee’s, choice of hangout, she’d bet her life on it.
On the way out, she paid more attention. The bright sunlight near the door came in just deep enough to reveal the soft imprint of a bicycle tire track. Wait until Bud sees this.
Sally walked out just as Eloise swatted at an insect. “Did I tell you I dislike bugs?”
The doctor smiled and helped Eloise up. “I like your place. Do you suppose I could bring Bud Hubble out to see the farm?”
“You two aren’t planning to live together out here, are you? My family wouldn’t approve. Now, marriage is another thing.”
“No living together without vows being said, I promise. I just want his advice.”
Eloise looked a little suspicious. “I do need to sell the place, so I suppose you could bring him out. I tell you what, when you lock the gate as we leave, just keep the key and give it back later. The old woman gave Sally a shrewd look. “You never asked how much I wanted for the place.”
“Well, whatever it is, I’m going to offer less.”
Eloise laughed. “A woman after my own heart.”
As soon as she’d seen Eloise home, Sally called Bud to ask him to visit the farm with her. But before she could tell him about her discoveries, he interrupted.
“Sorry, City Council meeting tonight. I want to bring up the subject of potholes. Bad roads are always newsworthy. I’ll see who I can provoke. How about in the morning?
“All right. Has to be early though. I have a full schedule unless somebody cancels.”
“Call and let me know when.”
The dial tone buzzed. Sally wanted to choke the man. How could the guy be such a comforter and at the same time such a stiff, business-first individual. He didn’t even take time to hear her out. She hated the yo-yo effect, or maybe what she hated was the lack of control she always felt in any kind of relationship.
Would she really want to marry Bud? The thought struck a rock wall before tumbling down a rabbit hole. Eloise’s family farm had potential, but maybe not for her and Bud together. She shook off the sadness that thought provoked, and wished she’d tried to play the piano. At the very least, she should have asked Eloise if the electricity was still working at the farm.
A strange desire came over her to return to the place and find out for herself. She still had time to check out the piano before it was completely dark.
It didn’t take long to get there. The key worked, and so did the electricity. Sally sat at the piano and pounded out an old hymn. Because He lives, I can face tomorrow; because He lives all fear is gone. The words held more meaning than usual, especially since death by asteroid might be a near reality.
The music continued to fill the room. Sally was caught up in the moment until the sound of something falling stopped her. The room had darkened, even though the ceiling bulb still burned. Moving quietly toward the window, she saw a shadowed figure turn the corner.
Probably just a deer, or wild hog. The drumbeat of her heart didn’t slow. Time to leave. Instead of running and slamming the door shut, she sneaked out like a thief in the night, shivering at the creaky squeal of the old wood porch. She started the car and the headlights pierced the damp air, giving a surreal feel of a magician’s tunnel.
The gate couldn’t show up fast enough, but when Sally got there, she turned the car off, let down the window and listened. What if that shadow outside the window was A.G.? If so, he’d be in the barn.
Sally normally thought before she reacted, but this night was definitely not normal. She reached for the pepper spray in her purse. Surely a wild hog, once sprayed, would run from her, not toward her.
Where’s Bud when you need him? Every sound, including her own footsteps, amplified. Silence was the loudest noise. A tree branch fell and cracked when it hit the ground.
At least, she thought that’s what it was. Again, she wished for Bud.
***
A.G. leaned against the barn boards. He hadn’t had a chance to see who was playing the piano. The gate was open, his first clue that something was amiss. At least he’d had the presence of mind to stash the bike before he followed the shadows to the house.
The car was gone now. Maybe it was somebody looking at the house. The place was for sale, after all. His breathing softened. He’d noticed a car parked across the street from Red’s earlier and figured someone might be watching for him. This smarter, newer model car more likely meant a potential buyer. He settled down to business.
He never bothered with a flashlight. Truth was, he felt it interfered with seeing outdoors in the night. He gave another concentrated listen. No more car sounds. He stepped from the shadows and headed to the barn. Only the familiar noise of night creatures, and the soft rustle of wind in the trees surrounded him.
Dare he turn the barn lights on? He took a chance and snapped the light on at the worktable. All of a sudden a cascade of ripples down his back told him he wasn’t alone. The footsteps were light, small feet and the person’s breath came in tiny gasps. Now what?
He pretended to be absorbed in what he was doing and moved closer to the light switch, then changed his mind and picked up a plug end. If he was lucky, when the plug was connected, the coil would fire up a storm that would send the intruder racing.
He was right on one count. The Tesla coil popped and lightning flashed. A brilliant display. But Dr. Strange did not flee. She was so taken that she moved closer, only to be shoved back by A.G.
“What are you doing, trying to kill yourself? Get back.” He cut the power.
The fireworks calmed and Sally looked over. “I knew it was you, Jones, or rather, A.G. Agee.”
“How’d you find me?”
“I live in a condo next to Eloise and her daughter.”
“So, my niece is still alive, is she? Guess I have her to thank for keeping my tools where I left them all those years ago, and for providing electricity.”
“What are you trying to do? Are you going to use the coil to move yourself forward into the future again?”
“The thought’s there, but just far enough ahead to finish the manmade cosmic tunnel we were working on. We just needed a few more months to perfect the idea.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We hoped, from a satellite near the asteroid, to create the equivalent of a wormhole. The goal is to swallow the main rock, reversing, or at least changing the asteroid’s direction.”
“Then you are trying to save the world?”
“That’s a little exaggerated, but with God, all things are possible. Isn’t that right, Dr. Strange?”
“You know that I was raised in Philadelphia. The newly commissioned destroyer, the USS Eldridge, was being equipped in 1943—with Tesla’s help— to make it invisible to radar. Part of the war effort. An eerie green blue glow later, the ship vanished with a full crew into thin air. It reappeared, but classified reports show crew members suffered burns, disorientation, and most shocking, a few crewmen were embedded in the steel hull of the ship. Some men, supposedly still living, claimed to have been tossed into the future. A government experiment with teleportation and time travel gone seriously bad.”
A.G. studied the doctor.
She answered his unspoken question. “I used to debate the whole thing with my family. My grandfather was a security guard at the naval base when it started shutting down some of the most controversial areas.” Sally reached toward the worktable.
He slapped her hands away.
She too
k it in stride. “I suppose you followed that whole affair and managed to figure out a way to send yourself through time.”
A. G. wasn’t sure why he answered. “I liked science. Almost blew up this barn several times. When Maeve and her friend came back with the Royal typewriter manipulated by someone in the future, I really got serious. I’d never seen such advanced technology, but it gave me enough information, along with what I already had, to adapt and succeed.”
“So Maeve worked for you? Did you know two great-granddaughters showed up here, at the Speakeasy Coffeehouse, just a short time after their ancestors returned to the ’30s?”
“I’m not surprised. I’m now part of a time bender society. Amazing what a few years in the future can accomplish.”
“Yes. But I’m more concerned whether the future will even exist. Do you think the asteroid predicted for 2029 will take out all of the earth?”
“Naw, only a third of the population. Not even that, if I can help stop it.”
“What can I do to help?”
“I’ve already got everything laid out. I don’t even think I’ll need the Tesla coil. I have a time chip implant. The cell phone and capacitor should be able to trigger it.”
“May I see it?”
“Nothing to see, not even a bump on my skin.”
Sally looked for a bench to sit on. “This is so much more than I ever imagined.”
“You and me both.”
“It was more than chance that I came to East Texas and moved in next to your aunt. What I didn’t already know about the Philadelphia Experiment, online information filled in. Will they need doctors if you can’t stop the asteroid?”
“Doctors that know more than you do are a dime a dozen in the future.”
“Was your shirt made from kombucha leather?”
“It was manmade leather, that’s all I know.”
“Do you think the asteroid is the Wormwood of Revelation?”
“If anybody’s got a right to serve out justice, it’s God. Man has embraced more sin than I can comprehend. East Texas is a lullaby compared to the darkness of the future. One World Government can destroy any dissenters with a snap of their fingers. Voice-operated killers come out of the woodwork. That’s why the TBS—Time Bender Society—grew by leaps and bounds,” he explained. “Changing time, space, and dimensions might be the only way to save people.”
