Jericho Johnson: The Gauntlet of Time

by J. A. Stowell

  “Not too much,” Homer said as he put a jug of Scottish ale on the bar. “No cups so ye’ll ‘ave to share, Ah’m afraid.”

  “That’s fine.” I said. Then we heard shouting.

  “It’s a ship! I told you, lubbers,” the voice of a boy called as he ran through the streets toward the shore.

  Shaking his head while he placed a loaf of bread and wedge of cheese on the bar, Homer said, “Thinks ‘e’s a right pirate, that one. Nothing but trouble, if’n ye’ ask me.”

  I thanked Homer for the food and exited the shack, heading back to the sea. Sure enough, the loud kid was right. A ship was pulling into the meager harbor. It wasn’t a very big one, but still too big to actually use the dock and thus had to drop anchor over a-hundred yards out.

  I found the girls just like I’d left them except Piper had finished crying and was pacing while Chloe sat cross-legged on the sand and watched the ship lower longboats into the water.

  “Here,” I said, tearing off a hunk of bread and offering it to Chloe. “It’s not Wendy’s, but it’ll stop the miss-meal cramps.”

  Chloe accepted the bread and took a small bite, chewed it up, swallowed it, then said, “I’m sorry about Svalbard.”

  She didn’t need to say anything else. I knew that she was kind of a proud girl so that was all I needed. “Me, too, Chloe.” I told her before walking to Piper.

  “How you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” She said quickly, then, “Where and when are we?”

  Since it seemed she wasn’t ready to talk about anything pertaining to her crying for over an hour, I accepted the change of subject, “Scotland around 1665. Also, Merry Christmas.”

  “What?”

  Oh yeah. Vikings weren’t exactly on the up and up with holidays other than their own. “Today is Christmas, a holiday where we give other people presents, receive them from other people, then watch the Charlie Brown special back home.”

  And I have met Charles Schulz once. Just saying. I really just wanted to confirm my suspicion that Linus was really the only true friend Charlie Brown had and that everyone else’s friendship was based on his not screwing up, which, let’s be honest, always happened to the poor guy. I was right, of course.

  “Where is Scotland?” Piper asked, peering at the ship, “And why would someone sail the sea on such an unworthy vessel?”

  I laughed, “Because they tried to recreate the Viking boats and couldn’t.” I told her, offering her some bread and cheese, which she took.

  “Should we be worried about these people?” Chloe asked, walking over to us.

  I shrugged, “I don’t know. Far as I know ships don’t come to port here so I’m kind of curious who it even is. There’s a lot of famous pirates around this time. Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and meet one of them.”

  I was, of course, joking. I didn’t have the notion of wanting to meet even the no-name pirates, much less the ones who were devious and violent enough to make a mark in history. The three of us ended up finding a large piece of driftwood to sit on while we watched the men in the boats row toward us.

  We had about ninety minutes left on our clock when the first longboats pulled onto land and the occupants stepped out. They were an odd bunch, I’ll tell you that much, and they didn’t seem to be paying us that much attention except for the redheaded girl in a white flowing cotton shirt and brown pants who narrowed her eyes at us when she stepped onto the sand.

  I waved at her with my gauntleted hand and smiled reassuringly at her to let her know we weren’t any harm. I guess my smile wasn’t reassuring enough because the girl approached us and asked, “Which way ‘ter Aviemore, mate?”

  “You’re Scottish,” I stated, noting her thick accent and awesome bandana she wore in a very pirate-like fashion. “You tell me.”

  “Ah’m not in the mood, ye’ lubber--“ She started but was cut off by the rather large man who came up behind her. “’Elp the men unload, Amelia. Ah’ll talk ‘ter them.”

  The alleged Amelia left but not before glaring at me hard, to which I smiled and waved again. “Go help the guys, Amelia. The men are trying to talk, here.” I don’t know why I was being such a jerk. Maybe because madam fire-head wasn’t exactly on her best behavior herself and I wasn’t having a great day so far. I thought this more so when somehow, I wasn’t sure how because she’d been standing over ten feet away, I was on my back in the sand, my legs on the log I’d just been sitting on, with Amelia straddling my chest and what looked like a movie prop samurai sword on my throat. Actually it looked a tad familiar, to be honest.

  No one moved, which was great at the time because I didn’t think this chic had taken her meds that morning and I wasn’t sure just how far she was willing to go with her curved sword.

  Wait- I did know the sword. I’d seen it before over two-hundred years ago hanging in a certain emperor’s gallery. So what was the crazy girl doing with it?

  Well, you know, besides threatening me with it while sitting on my chest.

  But just when you’d think I’d keep my mouth shut, I said, “Nice blade, carrots. Did you earn it or steal it?”

  The look in her eyes told me I’d gone too far but the big man ended up grabbing and dragging her off me. “Ah said ‘elp the men, Amelia,” He growled. “Just go, lass.”

  Amelia stomped off without glancing back this time. Too bad, really, because I had another witty comment I was going to make.

  I sat back down on the log between Piper and Chloe and rubbed at my neck, “She’s a real charmer,” I told the big man, who I just noticed was missing his left hand, “Something tells me her father is going to have a time marrying that piece of work off.”

  “Ah’m her father.” He said.

  Wow. I was genuinely speechless.

  “But dinna’ worry, lad. She only found out a few months ago.”

  “Oh, well, uh, congratulations, mister…?”

  “Call me Stubbs.”

  I hooked my thumb at him and glanced at Chloe. “Stubbs, he says. I’m liking this guy already.” Then I looked back at Stubbs. “So why are you guys headed to Aviemore?”

  I wasn’t sure that he’d heard me because he was frowning at the way we were all dressed. Then he said, while still frowning at our strange garb. “Ah’m from there. ‘Aven’t been back in a few years, though. I know its south of us.”

  Piper and Chloe weren’t exactly in the most talkative of moods and basically just sat like bumps on a log while I chatted with the one-handed man. “It is south. Just follow the road to Elgen and its a few days ride from there.”

  Stubbs nodded once and extended a hand, “Thanks, mate. We’ll leave you with it, then.”

  He turned and started walking away, “Hey, wait up,” I called, jumping up and following him. “What’s the name of your ship?”

  “The Starbuck and it ain’t my ship.”

  “Love the name,” I said as I walked beside him toward the men unloading the longboats, “Who’s the captain?”

  “Bartolomew Português is ‘is name,” Stubbs told me. “Now if’n ye’ll excuse me, sir, Ah best be ‘elping the lads.”

  “Well met, Stubbs,” I said, peering at the sailors, who, after a closer inspection, were probably pirates.”

  “Likewise,” he said and left me watching them.

  “Hello, sir.”

  I turned to the voice and saw it was a guy about my age sporting a velvet purple long coat. “Hey, pal. What can I do for you?” I asked him, looking him up and down from his boots to his fiery red hair.

  He glanced over his shoulders before leaning close to me and whispering, “You wouldn’t by any chance happen to have a writing quill on you, would you, old chap?”

  I frowned at the odd request and was about to tell him that I was fresh out of writing quills when the girl who’d tried to kill me saw our clandestine exchange and said, “Dinna’ even think about it, Newton.”

  The red-haired man looked irritatingly at her before turning back t
o me and smiling hopefully.

  “Uh, no. No quills to speak of.” I said, which caused a downcast sigh to escape the alleged Newton’s lips.

  Wait a second-

  “Newton?” I asked, “Is that your name?”

  The man rolled his eyes around in a sort of manner that had me thinking he was trying to remember his own name before saying simply, “Yes.”

  “Like, what’s your full name, man?”

  Not knowing why I was so interested in him full name, he frowned before telling me, “Isaac Newton.”

  Jackpot, baby.

  “Don’t move,” I told him before racing back to where I’d left Chloe and Piper. Skidding to a stop, I dropped to my knees in front of them and grabbed each of their hands, “You’re not going to believe who is standing not thirty feet behind me.”

  They exchanged glances before looking back at me. Chloe shrugged while Piper asked, “Who?”

  “Isaac freakin’ Newton!” I said, smiling like crazy. Then it hit me. “Wait- what the heck is he doing in Scotland in 1665? He’s supposed to be home avoiding the bubonic plague and discovering gravity right now.”

  Wow. And today happened to be his birthday, too. What're the odds?

  Standing, I left the baffled girls to their baffleness and walked back to Isaac Newton. “Say, pal, just what’re you doing here? I mean, you’re supposed to be back home discovering-“ Then I thought of what would happen if someone gave him the name of his greatest discovery and finished with, “Discovering the, uh, many mysteries of the world and yet you’re in Scotland with a band of pirates.”

  “We’re buccaneers, friend,” Said a tallish man who appeared at my side. “I’m the captain of this merry band of men and unless you and your strange gloves have business with my friend here, then you best be on your way.”

  I held up my strange gloved hands and backed away, “Alright, fine. Don’t tell me. See if I care. And try to do something nice for your friend here’s birthday, would you?” I said as I turned away from them, “It’s not every day a guy turns twenty-five, you know.”

  That was my bait wrapped around my intellectual hook.

  Har har har.

  “Wait!” Newton called to me, “Stop, sir.”

  I stopped and waited for him to approach me, “How did you know it’s my birthday?”

  “Just a big fan,” I said. “Look, you guys seem really busy so adieu, Newton.” I turned away again before remembering something, “Oh, and lay off the alchemy in another twenty years.” Then I turned away again before remembering one last thing, “And remember this more than anything, watch out for the freakin’ Exocoetidae book that’ll be out in a few years because you might want to reserve a slot before that little jewel comes out. Anyway, peace,” I said, smiling and leaving the dumbfounded pre-physicist blinking after me.

  I guess I should’ve said spoiler alert first but there you have it.

  Just FYI, a detailed book about flying fish came out a few months before Isaac Newton’s world-changing volume about gravity did and was so expensive that it almost caused the publishing of the most groundbreaking book ever released to not happen.

  I sat beside the girls again and sighed. Then Chloe said, “I hope you didn’t tell him too much.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Nah. He’s got too great of a life coming up for me to blurt it out.”

  “So why was he with them?” Piper asked.

  I shrugged. “Not sure. But I think I might come back one day and find out. The worst part is that if I’d just hung around a few more minutes before leaving the first time I would’ve ran into them. Crazy, huh?”

  They both grunted in agreement and we all just sat in silence as the last of the pirates made it to shore, unloaded gear, and went into Lossiemouth. Checking my gauntlet, I saw we had twenty minutes left.

  Here’s to the most uneventful time-traveling jump ever.

  We sat in silence for the remaining time on the blustering beach and just stared out at the sea. It was kind of peaceful, really, and I wasn’t looking forward to the next jump. Although for some reason my gauntlet wasn’t displaying where I was going next like it had in Dr. Sparks lab, I just couldn’t think of any of the places I’d been that I would rather go to that was better than just sitting here doing nothing.

  Five minutes left.

  “Well, I guess we dodged a bullet here, kids.” I said.

  Then four men materialized almost twenty feet in front of me with their backs to us. Three of which were wearing-

  “They’re in Dragonovs!” Chloe screamed, grabbing my arm and leaping to her feet. Then we were all running like crazy into the fishing town.

  Something hissed from behind us and one of the upcoming houses in our path exploded.

  So much for the most uneventful time-traveling jump ever.

  Me and my big mouth

  Chapter 26

  “Split up and hide,” I told the girls while we ran, well, anywhere. “Make them have to hunt for you.”

  They nodded and disappeared into the town, weaving between the old buildings. I was glad that they’d vanished so quickly but I already knew where I was going.

  “Get out, Homer,” I shouted, bolting through his doorway. The bartender looked confused so I decided that grabbing him and dragging him out was better than explaining the situation right then.

  We were almost to the exit when one of the Dragonovs fired off another missile. I dropped to the floor when I heard the hiss that sounded like a bottle-rocket going off and pulled Homer down with me. The tiny missile miraculously entered through a hole in the wall, passed over our heads, then exited the hut through yet another hole.

  Before I had the chance to tell Homer to thank his lucky stars that his shack was so crappy, the missile hit the very much sturdy house beside us, causing Homer’s place to shudder. Grabbing his hand one more time, I monkey-crawled out the doorway as the roof caved in, pulling the older Scotsman behind me.

  Only I wasn’t fast enough.

  What was left of the ceiling, although not much, collapsed and pinned Homer from the waist down in the rubble, causing him to cry out. “What’s happening?” He screamed, pain evident on his lined face. Instantly I dropped to my knees beside him and started trying to pull up on the heavy wood on top of him. “Hang in there, Homer,” I said between clenched teeth as I strained against the weight, “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  Something flashed in the corner of my eye and I turned my head just in time to see one of the hellish Dragonovs level his right arm down at us. “No!” I shouted, “Wait-!”

  Then he fired off another missile toward the rubble. The explosion sent me skidding across the street. I groaned while my ears rang and I couldn’t hear anything but the accursed ringing when I climbed to my shaky feet and began staggering toward the flaming remains of Homer’s shack. I started out on my feet but ended up crawling on my hands and knees because my head kept spinning and I felt like I was going to be sick. I found Homer about ten feet from his blown up hovel on his back in the cold sand of the street staring up at the sky. He was missing a leg, I saw, as I crawled up to him and grabbed his hand. “Homer?”

  “Ah never went ‘ter sea like Ah wanted to,” he gasped out and I could tell something other than his leg was damaged.

  You know in movies and books when something like this happens and the guy holding the doomed man’s hand says, “You’re going to be alright.” And you know that he knows that the hurt person isn’t, in fact, alright nor was he going to be.

  I used to read or watch scenes like that and just shake my head and think the other guy was a huge liar to tell someone dying that.

  But you know, in the real world, there really isn’t anything else you can say besides that. But since I’d taken several oaths to myself to never tell someone dying that, I ended up saying, “I’m so sorry, man.”

  “Dinna’ worry, lad,” He said, looking me in the eyes and squeezing my hand, “Maybe one day we’ll meet again.”
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  Then his hand slipped from mine and he was gone. I watched his face while what was left of his life drained away. Getting to a slumping position, I closed his eyes. “Sooner than you think, Homer.” I whispered. Then I heard the unholy gyrating of gears and felt the presence of my attackers close behind me.

  “Jericho Johnson?” Someone asked in a normal voice and not one amplified or distorted by a battle-suit helmet.

  Placing my hands on my thighs, I let my head roll back as I looked at the sky, sighed deeply, then tried to get to my shaky feet. “Depends on who’s asking,” I countered, barely managing to regain my footing while turning to face them, “How’d you know my name?”

  “I am Verde’ von Klaus,” The man about my height with a mustache said in a thick Russian accent. He also was sporting a gauntlet that looked to be a shiny black. “I was able to get a little information about you from Dr. Atrium before I came looking for you. It seems you happen to be in possession of my property.”

  “Yeah? Well, you just happened to kill a good friend of mine, chief. So nice work establishing a friendly relationship. You should really pat yourself on the freakin’ back for making me absolutely hate you in less than two minutes.” I said, my voice quivering with rage. I let my eyes flick to my gauntlet, not wanting to think what he meant by getting a ‘little‘ information about me from Chloe’s dad or how he did it.

  “I was wrong. You did it in three minutes. Congrats, genius.” I only had two minutes left to find Chloe and Piper and get the helheim out of here. But I was thinking Klaus didn’t know that.

  Klaus waved his hand like he was dismissing a child, “I care not for your friends. Why do you think I would?”

  I took a step toward him and all three Dragonovs held a loaded arm. “I’m guessing since you’re probably a sadistic spawn of Satan, that you never had a mother that taught you the courtesy of, oh, I don’t know, not killing random people to get what you want.”

  Klaus held up a hand and the Dragonovs lowered their arms. Then he walked the gap between us, stopped, and then looked at both the gauntlets I was wearing. “Why are there two of them?” He asked, frowning.