by Larry Hunt
Chapter Thirteen
CLEM AND PENELOPE
As he was leaving the old farmhouse he did not notice the breeze had increased enough to allow the screen door to swing open ever so slightly. Slightly was all that was needed to allow his note to escape, fly off the porch and be whisked away on the currents of the brisk wind. Believing Dallas was south of his current location Captain Scarburg walked from the farmers yard, took a right onto the dusty, dirt road, and in an hour or so encountered a more traveled, graveled road. Turning right he took his first steps towards Big D as the wind began to freshen a bit in anticipation of the impending thunderstorm.
He had not walked far down the country road when he heard the crunching of gravel; a vehicle was approaching from his rear. Turning he could see it was an old, dirty, rust eaten, 1955 F-600 Ford wrecker. Both the driver and the truck were a perfect match. This, so called truck pulled up beside Captain Scarburg and a gnarly cowboy stuck his head out the passenger’s window. All the Captain could see was the brim of an old, brown, sweat stained, tattered cowboy hat.
“'Hou-dee! Where yew headin’?”
“Dallas.”
“Dallas huh? Mister you must have some mighty good hooves stuck in them there brogans if’en yer plannin’ on walkin’ the hole way.”
“How far do you suppose Dallas is from here?” inquired the Captain.
“I won't say it's fer, but I had to grease the wagon twice afore I hit the main road,” he said snickering. “But it’s really plum near forty miles of bad road. Dog gone, gotta get my gitar out when I git home, that would make a fine name for me a new tune ‘Forty Miles of Bad Road’, but feller I ain’t headin’ that fer, but yer wellcome to climb aboard and ride as fer as I’m agoin’.”
“Yeah, thanks mister. I sure would appreciate a ride,” Captain Scarburg said opening the passenger side door and stepping up into the cab of the wrecker. He tried to avoid the end of a spring sticking out of the seat, but, unfortunately, he could not. It was positioned right where he had to sit. Thinking to himself, I don’t know which is worse - the walking or this spring! However, the cab of the truck did contain an intriguing object – sitting next to the driver was the most beautiful, miniature dog the Captain had ever seen.
“Mister! Did you call me mister? Feller... afore we move another inch my Pap was Mister - you jest call me Clem. Well all full my names Clemson, but nobody calls me Clemson, not even me, and this here is Girl,” Clem said motioning toward the dog. We got’er from a neighbor, and I never got around to givin’ her a name. Whats your’n?”
“My ‘urine’! What? Oh, ‘your’n’, you’re asking my name? Okay... uh... Clem I’m... I’m... uh... uh... John... John Doess nice to meet you Clem, and you too Girl.” At the mention of her name, the dog moved over from Clem and rested her head in the Captain’s lap. He stroked her head and rubbed his hand up and down the soft, silky, sable and white hair on her back. What a magnificent animal, he thought.
“Would you mind if I could ask you a couple of questions Clem? But before I ask my questions, I know it is none of my business, but your miniature collie ought to have a proper name.”
“Yeah, I know’s John, I jest ain’t got around to givin’ her one yet. You got any idees?”
“She is such a gorgeous, elegant looking little dog Clem, how about ‘Lady’? It fits her to a tee.”
“As fer as Girl’s name I like ‘Lady’, believe you’re right, a dog ought to have a proper name – I’m gonna make that her name from now on. ‘Lady’, yeah, I like that, but one thang, she ain’t no collie, shes a Shetland sheepdog.”
“A Shetland sheepdog? Why Clem, I haven’t ever heard of such a dog, I thought she surely must be a miniature collie.”
“Yeah, that’s what everybody thanks, but she ain’t, now what is it you wants to know?”
“Okay, but don’t laugh Clem, they may sound crazy to you.”
“Feller there ain’t no crazy questions just, sometimes, crazy answers, throw’em at me. Jest don’t say nothin’ bout that there sprang pokin’ outta the seat. I been aimin’ to git it fixed fer years but heck it ain’t botherin’ me none.”
The Captain started to remark, ‘No, but it’s sure is bothering me’ but he resisted the temptation and said, “Clem, what time is it? What day is it? What’s the year? And finally, for Pete’s sake, where the blazes am I?”
“Dadburn John did you just escape from one of them crazy sanator... sannatot... one of them crazy houses?
“Sorry Clem, no I did not escape from a mental sanitarium. I was out in the backcountry, and my vehicle got caught up on a... a... well, just say it stopped working. That’s why I am walking. Please, what about the time, date and place?”
“Well Mister Doess...”
“Same with my Papa Clem, he was the Mister of my family too, John is fine for me.”
“Well... John I can’t help you with the time. I don’t own me a watch. I reckon time by the sun.” Leaning over he looked at the sky through the truck’s cracked windshield with its accumulation of splattered bugs and dirt, “It’s a couple hours afore sundown, so I’m a thinkin’ it’s ‘round three o’clock. Oh yeah John, yer about a couple miles out of Celina.”
“Celina,” the Captain asked cautiously, “Tex... Tex... Texas?”
“Why shore Texas, where’d you think you wuz?”
Looking at Clem in bewilderment Captain Scarburg could offer no reply.
Clem continued to study the sky - he noticed a large black thunderhead developing off toward the southwestern horizon. “Storms a brewin’, you got a place to put yer head tonight John?”
“No Clem that’s why I was trying to get to Dallas before dark.”
“Well you ain’t goin’ to make it before that there storm gits here. Yer comin’ home with me. You can git to Dallas tomarrey.”
‘Tomar... tomar... oh... tomorrow.... thanks Clem, I believe I’ll take you up on the invitation, but you never did tell me the day and year.”
“Now John I ain’t got me no watch like I said, but I do got me a calender. They give’em out free at the drugstore, you know. Today is Wensdee.”
“Wednesday? Are you sure Clem? What is the date”?
“Shore nuff I’m sure... we go to prayer meetin’ on Wensdee nite and tonites the nite. The day of the month is the 20th in the year nineteen hundred and sixty three.”
“By-ned,” the Captain said softly to himself, “someone put twenty in the guidance computer instead of twenty-two. That could not have been by accident - they did this on purpose. But, right now it’s not all bad. Now I’ve got nearly two days before my rendezvous on that rooftop in Dallas... that’s good.”
“John what in the heck ere you goin’ on about?”
“Nothing Clem, nothing, just thinking out loud about something that happened back on my job.”
“What kinda job you got John?”
“Well, uh, I guess you could call me a... a... uh... uh... a repairman – yeah a repairman. Right now I’m trying to fix some things.”
“Well laws-a-mighty! I’m a fixer too. Mostly frigerdares, stoves, well pumps, cars sometimes, and thangs like that. Why shucks, I even worked on me one of them oil well pumps one time, I guess I’m a repair man too, but people call me mostly a handyman and theys right John, I shore am handy. Oh, and yeah, on the weekends I sometimes work for the Reverend Junior Pickett with weddins’. You know, he got hisself one of them big ole long, black, Cadilack cars, and I drive it fer him.”
“So... you’re a handyman, limousine driver? Nice to meet you Clem.”
“Well here’s my turning off road we’ll be to my place in a couple of minutes John.”
The time was 5:05 p.m., Wednesday November 20, 1963.
THE PONDEROSA
A similar type of dusty, dirt road that had led from the farmer’s house to the main road was now taking Captain Scarburg from the main road to Clem’s place. It was beginning to rain. Every second or two the flash of a jagged bolt of lightnin
g could be seen streaking across the threatening sky followed closely by the crashing peal of thunder. The dust and dirt of the road quickly became red, Texas mud. The Captain kept thinking how lucky he was that Clem happened by and had given him a ride, but judging from the looks of the old Ford wrecker, and Clem himself, the Captain cringed when he thought of Clem’s house, and what it must look like; however, sleeping in a run-down dump of a house was better than huddling up against a tree on the side of the road in this approaching storm.
After a couple of miles, the road rounded a large stand of Leyland Cypress intermingled with an abundance of Tulip Poplars and one magnificent hundred year old Texas Red Oak tree. Looking past the beautiful dark green branches of the Leylands Clem’s place finally came into view. The rain was coming down in buckets and the wind caused Clem difficulty keeping the truck on the narrow road.
“Thar she is John my Ponderosa. Love Hoss, Little Joe, Adam and Pa. Never miss ‘em. Watch ‘em ever Mondee nite at seven o’clock.”
It had been a long time since the Captain had watched the TV show Bonanza, but he responded, “I see Clem you’re a fan of the Cartwrights, so you have a television? What about a telephone?”
‘Sure John, we got’em both. I shore would like me one of them new color RCAs tho’. Cousin Billy Bobs got one, and he sez ‘Bonanza’ looks like a rainbow, all in color - all I gots me is a black and white Philco. And my tellephone is a eight party line. Sometimes, dadburn, them ole wimmen jest won’t git off the line, so I can use it!”
“Who would you want to call Clem?”
“Well nobody John - I ain’t got me nobody to call to, but I jest sure nuff like to listen to it buzz when you stick it up to yer ear. You can’t hear it if’en them ole hens won’t hush talkin’ and git off of the line.”
They slipped and slid through the muck and mire of the mud as they neared the house. As the truck passed the stand of cypress and hardwood trees the Captain saw an astonishing sight. There must be something wrong with his eyes, he thought. Surely this wasn’t Clem’s place, but it was, and he was now plainly looking at Clem’s Ponderosa - the ramshackle, dilapidated house he imagined Clem to live in was... was... well it was quite charming. It was a quaint, wood and brick, ranch style house with a well-manicured yard surrounded by a white picket fence. Ornamental bushes and shrubs were placed in a pleasing arrangement all around the exterior. The roof was in perfect repair, the widows were shuttered, and the paint on the house looked fresh. Scattered around the front, sides and back were a number of large, full-grown, water oaks complimenting the house. Clem’s Ponderosa looked as if it belonged in the suburbs back home. It was very lovely.
“The Ponderosa looks like a fine place Clem, but you do not strike me as the homebody, green thumb, type person.”
“Dadburn you got me pegged John, it’s my danged ole sister Penelope. She’s all the time, ‘Come here Clem, dig me uh hole, come here Clem, trim me that there bush, come here Clem, water them flairs.’
“Flairs? Flairs Clem?”
“You know them purty colored plants that smell good. Fer goodness sakes where’d you come from John?”
“Oh, yes ‘flairs’, I see Clem,” the Captain replied, smiling as he thought of Penelope’s flowers.
“I’m telling you John it’s enough to make a man think real serrius ‘bout gettin’ married. You ain’t married ere you John?”
“Yes I am Clem - in fact, I have a son Robert and five grown grand -children - Forrest, Bud, Lou, Gabrielle and Olive. Bud, Lou and Gabrielle, Gabby as we call her, are triplets. Well I’m sorry I only have four living. Bud got killed in a war.”
“Sorry John bout your Bud... but the others... theys sound real nice - Penelope’s like me, she wern’t the marryin’ kind neither. Nobody would put up with all that yardy flairs and bush nonsense of hers.”
Parking the truck Clem turned to John, “Come on John git yourself out and lets git into the Ponderosa afore we drown, come on Girl... I mean, come on Lady.” Jumping from the truck Lady took her place beside the Captain as they ran through the rain up the walkway to the porch.
On entering Clem’s house, Captain Scarburg was as surprised with the inside as he was the outside. Everything was neat, clean and arranged in an attractive manner and style. Before the Captain could make a remark Clem hollered, “Penelope git yerself in here we got company.”
Coming through the door from the kitchen was an attractive looking woman he guessed to be in her mid-twenties. John thought, a dab of make-up and a trip to the beauty salon she could be quite beautiful. She was drying her hands on a delicately, embroidered white apron she wore. “Penelope this here’s John. He got broke down, and the rain caught ’em. I offered him our place to stay the night.” Motioning with his finger he said, “John this here’s Penelope.”
“Nice to meet you Miss... uh, Mrs... Penelope. Sorry, Clem never told me his last name... but my name is John... uh... Doe... uh... Doess... John Doess.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Doess...” she began to say as Grandpa interrupted.
“No, just John... John is fine.”
“I’m sorry John I’m Penelope, Miss Penelope Ruby. You have already met my brother Clemson.”
The Captain noticed the frown on Clem’s face at the mention of ‘Clemson’ but Clem knew better than to say anything to Penelope.
“Ruby! Did you say Ruby? Any relationship to the Jack Ruby who owns the Carousel Club on the corner of Field and Commerce Street in downtown Dallas?”
“Sparky? You mean “Sparky?” Yeah, he’s Pap’s brother. That’d make him my...my...
Captain Scarburg finished Clem’s sentence, “Uncle?”
“I’s just gonna say that... yeah uncle, but we ain’t seed nor heerd from him in a quite a long spell,” Clem answered. “He fell in with the wrong crowd that’s so crooked you can't tell from their tracks if their comin’ or goin’. I wouldn't trust’em any futher than I could fling’em.”
The Captain felt terrible about lying to them about his name, but he knew it was better if Clem and Penelope Ruby did not know his true identity. The days following the assassination would see all the family of Jack Ruby questioned and re-questioned about the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald and the President too. Captain Scarburg thought it would be wise if Clem and Penelope did not have to disclose his real name - and he did not want them to lie for him either.
“How’d you no about Sparky?”
“That’s a long story.” The Captain remarked trying to change the subject, “there’s a mighty delicious, inviting smell coming from your kitchen, is it your dinner Miss Ruby?”
“Longs you’re in my house, name’s Penelope. No, it ain’t dinner we et dinner a while back, this here is supper. It’s about done cookin’, yer welcome to have supper with us.”
“Thank you, uh... Penelope... it sure has a mouth-watering smell. I haven’t eaten a bite since breakfast.”
“What about it Penelope? Get them vittals on the table! Me and John done got us a pairfull hunger, right John Doess?”
THE IPHONE
The food was delicious, in fact, scrumptious. “Penelope,” said the Captain, “I believe these chicken and dumplings are as good as the ones my Mama used to make. I thought no one could make them as tasty as she did, but I have to admit these are really good!”
“Thank ya John, I learnt from my Mama too. The secret is to use a good ole fat hen. Not one of them frying chickens. Me and Clem raise our on chickens out thar in the coop, in the back yard.”
“Well, all I can say these are mighty good. And how did you know I ate cornbread with my chicken and dumplings? Next to dumplings my favorite food is rutabaga turnips with pieces of pork chops cooked in them along with a big old piece of cornbread. Now dumplings and rutabagas - that is fine eating.”
“John, you must be from the south... we’s the only ones that eat cornpone with dumplings.
“Yes, Penelope I’m originally from Alabama.”
I knew it! I bet you like to eat �
�maters with yours too like I do. What about it?”
“Penelope, I can’t believe you, cornbread and tomatoes with chicken and dumpling, and served just like I was in a fancy restaurant. You’re a woman after my own heart. Clem you better not ever let Penelope find her a man!”
“Ah, shucks, John - hush up!” Penelope muttered holding her head down pretending to be embarrassed.
“Funny you should talk about Penelope and her servin’ vittals, she works part-time waitressin’ down at the Texas Steakhouse on Main Street in Celina,” Clem offered.
“Why, no wonder Miss Penelope you put on such a fine supper... you are... are... a professional,” Captain Scarburg said grinning.
Enjoying the chicken and dumplings and pleasant conversation everything seemed to be going well until a noise was heard emanating from the front of the Captain’s bib overalls. It was his Iphone smart phone! He had forgotten to leave it behind, and it had been in his flight suit pocket when he changed clothes. At 6 p.m., it was programmed to remind him of the next day’s events. It did! A soothing female voice said, “Reminder... meet with all department heads tomorrow to finalize 2012 budgets.”
Removing the phone from his pocket, he placed it on the dining room table. Both Clem and Penelope had stopped eating mid-bite. What was that small, shiny, black talking box they thought? Even Lady perked up from lying at the Captain’s feet, stood, head cocked to one side, trying to figure out the source of the voice.
“What... uh... uh... what is that... uh... thang... John?”
At first he wanted to fabricate some fancy story about the Iphone. Anything he told them, he knew they probably would believe anyway, but the Captain didn’t want to lie to them. He decided to tell them the truth. He knew he could make them believe a lie, but he wasn’t sure how they would react to the truth?
“Clem, Penelope this is called an Iphone.”
Clem slowly, even slower than normal managed to say, “Iphone...! Yer sayin’, that... that... gadget... is... a... tellephone? Ain’t it your phone?”
“No, Clem... I mean yes Clem it is my phone, but “Iphone” stands for Internet Telephone.”
“Inter... what? Now I must tell you John, I only went to grade five in school afore I quit but now Penelope shes high educated she finished her schoolin’ in grade nine. She said she’d learnt about everthang worth learnin’. Ain’t that right Penelope?
As she nodded her head in agreement, Clem continued, “But I don’t thank she got to the part about them thangs,” he said pointing at the Iphone. Penelope was still nodding her head as Clem said, “go on about that ‘Inter’ thang.”
“I knew this was going to open up a whole new can of worms. Let’s go into the living room. Later I will tell you something that’s going to amaze you. In some ways, it is going to frighten you too.”
They had not finished supper, but after seeing the Iphone Clem and Penelope no longer had an appetite. They were just hungry for more information about that marvelous little black gadget.
Following the two into the living room Captain Scarburg pulled up a chair across from Clem and Penelope, so he could better explain his ‘magic telephone gadget’. They were as eager as two kids on Christmas morning, hardly able to wait for what he had to show and tell them.
“First I’m not the man you think I am.”
“Whats you mean, John? I jest thought you wuz a man from up the road apiece whos truck had broke down. Ain’t that right?”
“Clem that is partially correct - you see I am a time-traveler here from the year 2012 to accomplish a task, which is going to astound you. To prove my statement, I have, from 2012, this so-called ‘gadget’ lying here on the coffee table. It is what we, in the 21st century, call a ‘smart phone’. This model in particular is made by Apple and is as I said, called an Iphone.”
“Hold the fort there Hoss... the year 2012? And apples make thangs? I thought people just et apples.”
“Yes... well no... yes I am from 2012 and no... no Clem... Apple is the name of a 21st century commercial company. They make Iphones and Macs....”
“Whoa again John... got to tell us what this Mac thing is. Is it one of them big ole haulin’ trucks that I’ve seed on the highway?”
“No Clem. That is a Mack, M-A-C-K... this Mac, M-A-C... is just another name for computers Apple makes.”
“Computers? John I believe this here is goin’ to be a long night. Better not worry ‘bout going to prayer meetin’ tonight Penelope.”
“Okay, I’m going to start by telling you how I got here.” After this statement, he began at the beginning and told his incredible tale as slow and in as simple and straightforward fashion that Clem and Penelope might understand. He told them about Pegasus landing in the field a few miles from where he ‘borrowed’ the clothes and the spot where Clem picked him up. Clem replied, “Yeah, I know that there place - old man Simpson and his boney dried up, hussy of a wife live there. Her face and a prune would run a good race. Ornery old cusses, I never did like’em. Go on John.”
“My trip from 2012 back to 1963 occurred without a hitch – without a hitch until I looked outside when I landed.”
“What did you see John?”
“Clem, it wasn’t what I saw - it was how I saw it! For some reason, I cannot see things in color - I have color blindness - I see everything in black and white only! A new RCA would not do me any good.”
“I’m sorry John, maybe yer eyes will clear up directly. Go on tell us more.”
“Thanks Clem, I will continue. The day after tomorrow Friday, November 22nd at exactly 12:30 in Dallas President Kennedy will have an attempt made on his life. That’s why I took the chance to get here using the Pegasus machine I told you about.”
“So that’s why you’re in such a gall-durn hurry to get to Dallas - you want to save the President, right?”
“Sorry... no you’re wrong Clem. I hate to say this, but... uh... uh... I want to make sure he gets killed!!”
“What? Not killed? You mean to say saved, right?”
“No, I’m sorry, but the word was... killed!”
“Why John, that is un-American!! You can’t be serrius? You aint one of them Communist, er you John?”
Captain Scarburg tried to explain how history got off on the wrong track when the assassin’s bullet only wounded President Kennedy. He explained how the time and space continuum had to be set straight. He talked about the Parallel Universes, Einstein, time and space. He explained the Viruchi War, the millions of people killed, the nuking of Saigon and Moscow. He tried to explain how appalling the world of the 21st century had become. Then he told them by allowing President Kennedy to die how all this savagery would change to a more civilized, yeah, that’s the word, civilized future. Not much of this information soaked in to the un-educated heads of Clem and Penelope. All they understood was the name President and the name Kennedy and the getting killed part.
“Okay, let me try to put this to you both another way. President Kennedy is not supposed to survive the attempt on his life. Things in 2012 will just work out wrong if he survives - we were propelled into the wrong universe at the instant the assassination failed. Yeah, I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m just telling you as it is.
“John, me and Penelope have been sittin’ here listenin’ to you fer hours... what I wants to know is..., I mean I gots to know this one thang... would ye, please tell me this - cause I’m gonna bust if’en I don’t know...”
John’s mind was racing - was Clem wanting more information about the type of people who lived in 2012? What is the 21st century like? Who was the President? What kinds of food were people eating? Did we still have television? What was a computer? Not one of these questions was on Clem or Penelope’s mind. Picking up the Iphone Clem wanted to know what the square, shiny, black “me-phone” did. “And...”
Before Clem could finish his next question, the Captain cut him off, “Clem, it’s an Iphone, not a me-phone. We refer to them as ‘cell phones’ or ‘smart pho
nes’. ‘I’, like I said earlier, it just stands for ‘Internet’ and don’t even ask I don’t believe I could explain Internet or what ‘cell phone’ means either. Even if I wanted too.”
As the Captain was trying to explain the Iphone, Clem inadvertently pushed the ‘Home’ button at the bottom of the Iphone and the screen lit up covered with Apple Apps.
“Whoa! What did I do John? Did I break this thang?”
Taking the phone Captain Scarburg touched an App on the screen and selected the tune ‘All My Ex’s Live in Texas’. “Here’s a nifty song you both might like,” he said touching the Iphone screen again. The lyrics and melody of George Strait’s number one country hit from 1987 began softly to play. George began singing:
♪All my Ex’s live in Texas and Texas...♪
“What the... wher’d that music come from?” Clem and Penelope just sat there, mouths agape, starring at each other. “How’d you git a phonnygraph small enuf to poke it into that there dinky, black gadget your, uh...uh...iphony.”
“I’m not going there Clem, just believe your ears and just say it works! Here, let me quickly show you something else,” the Captain said as he turned the Iphone around and tapped the ‘Camera’ App and began recording both Clem and Penelope. “Hey, both of you. Look this way and say cheese.”
Startled, “Say what?” Replied Clem.
Captain Scarburg recorded for a few seconds then turned the Iphone around so Clem and Penelope could see the screen. “Watch this.”
Instantly the screen changed. As if by magic there in glorious color sat his two hosts.
From the Iphone, “Hey, both of you. Look this way and say cheese.”
“Say what?”
“Well dadburn, ain’t that somethin?”
“Oh, here’s something else I want to show you,” he said tapping the small, square Photo App. “Here is some of my 2012 world.” For the next few minutes, he showed Clem and Penelope photos of a world nearly fifty years in their future accompanied with music!” Pictures of his family, co-workers, vacations spots and even a picture of Pegasus were shown. Amazed is not nearly a powerful enough word to describe the two sitting on the sofa taking in this entirely magical world, but he also showed them pictures of the devastation of the aftermaths of the numerous wars, the people dying of starvation and even a picture of grandson Bud’s tombstone in the unkempt Arlington National Cemetery that had been overgrown with vines and weeds. The Captain explained America had been at war for so long it had no time or money to properly maintain its national cemeteries or even its national monuments around Washington. Most all had fallen into a state of neglect and disrepair.
Before Captain Scarburg finished showing them his photos from the 21st century, Penelope requested the Captain backup and let her see one of the pictures again. It was a snapshot of Lonnie Joe standing in the Egyptian desert wearing his green Special Forces t-shirt. “Which man is that one?” Asked Penelope.
“Penelope, that is Dr. Lonnie Joe Wheeler. One of the best men I have ever worked along side. He was a Special Forces captain in Operation Desert Storm. Oh yeah, forgot - it was another war the United States gets involved in during the 1990s. I recruited him after he was discharged, and he has been with us at SCAR ever since.”
“Hes purty… is he married? Did he come with you on your trip?”
“Sorry Penelope, he did not come with me, but the good news is: no, he is not married.”
The hour was getting late, and the Captain had decided enough examples of his 2012 life had been demonstrated to convince Clem he was indeed a time-traveler. Not only was he assured Clem was a decent and trustworthy man, but he also believed Clem would be willing to help him accomplish his mission in Dallas the next morning.
“Clem, I have shown you my future... the future I just recently came from. What I have told you and Penelope is the truth. The future, as it stands today, is bleak. What I need now is your help to change what my future should be. And, by the way, my future will someday be your future as well.”
“Shore John I seed all them pictures, that world is terrible, I’ll help. I wont to help change it. What can I do?”
“Not so fast Clem - before you agree you need to know all the facts. First, President Kennedy will be wounded Friday at exactly 12:30 if we do not intercede. If he lives, the world of 2012 I described and have just shown you will occur; however, it can be changed if I can prevent the assassin on the southwest corner of the Texas School Book Depository from shooting the President. If I succeed that will allow another man located on the sixth floor, of the same building, to shoot the President and wound Governor Connally...”
“Whoa, John you sayin’ our Texas governeer is goin’ to git shot too...?
“Yeah, he will be injured either way - if the assassin on the roof shoots or even if I can someway distract him, Governor Connally will be wounded regardless, but I believe we can stop the shooter on the roof - that’s not what is worrying me. Since I met you two, I believe you two are kind and decent people, but your lives will be forever changed after Friday.”
“Talk to us in English John - what’s likely to happen to us?”
“Clem, nothing will physically happen to you both - but your lives will never be the same - trust me.”
“Straight talk John, give us the truth.”
“Okay, after I take out the shooter on the roof this will allow his partner on the sixth floor to fire a couple of more shots with a surplus Italian rifle, a 6.5 mm Carcano. He will flee from the building and travel southwest into a surrounding neighborhood where he has an apartment. As he leaves his apartment, he will be detained by a police officer. This man will shoot and kill the police officer whose name is J. D. Tippit. Then he will hurry up West Jefferson Boulevard and enter the Texas movie theater where the police will find and arrest him. He will be carried to the Dallas City Jail. This coming Sunday, November 24th at 11:21 a.m., before live television cameras he will be shot and killed in the basement of Dallas Police headquarters as the police are attempting to move him to a different jail.”
“Who is this man John? The man who kills the President and the policeman?”
“Clem, Penelope this man is not the person who will bring danger to you both - history in the 21st century will state the man who assassinated President John F. Kennedy from the roof of the Texas School Book Depository on Friday the 22nd of November goes by the name of – Lee Harvey Oswald.
“Well heck John we don’t know no Lee Harvey Oswall person.”
“His name is Oswald, with a ‘D’ not Oswall with an ‘L’ but it’s not him that will affect your lives. Your trouble will come from the man who shoots Lee Harvey Oswald. Remember I said someone will kill Oswald Sunday morning in the basement of the Dallas Police Headquarters. You do, for a fact, know the man doing the shooting...”
“Who, who John? Who is that man we know?”
“That person is... is... ‘Sparky’... your uncle – Jack Ruby”
“No John... you must be jesting. Sparky ain’t never hurt nobody. He ain’t got the nerve.”
“You may be right about nerves, but this coming Sunday, November the 24th, the world will watch the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald by your Uncle Jack Ruby on live, nationwide TV. He’ll have the nerve for this one escapade. I am expected to be long gone. In fact, if all goes well Sunday I will be back home watching the Tennessee Titans play the Seattle Seahawks... right... don’t ask Clem... I don’t believe I have the breath to explain NFL expansion teams to you. But just remember, this coming Sunday, just four days from now on November 24th, millions will see your Uncle Jack Ruby shoot and kill Lee Harvey Oswald. By the way if you want to make yourself some easy money, next weekend on Saturday November 30th Alabama will play Auburn in the Iron Bowl at Legion Field in Birmingham. Auburn will win the game 10 to 8.”
Clem said directing his request to his sister, “Penelope write down the names of that there ball game and the score on a slip of paper and put it in your valuables box there on th
e mantle of the farplace.”
“Clem, if you ever want to bet on a sure thing put all your money on this game, but remember stay glued to your television this Sunday and you can see your Uncle Jack shoot Oswald for yourselves.
“Now this is information you have to know. If there is any doubt in your mind about your Uncle, stay out of this Clem. But if you decide to help me just remember what I said: if there ever were a secret you two must keep this one must be on the top of your list. The government will turn over every rock looking for anyone and everyone having anything to do with the Kennedy assassination and Lee Harvey Oswald and his killer your Uncle Sparky. You know it’s not every day a president gets killed. The good thing is you will only have to avoid talking to the police for about twelve hours after I leave. Never mind, I’ll explain it to you later.”
“John, I’m in - this is the most excitin’ thang to ever happen to me. I wouldn’t miss it for nothin’. What’s our game plan?”
“First, Clem do you have another vehicle besides your truck. I know your truck is great, but it’s very loud without its muffler. That might cause us to draw too much attention.”
“Yeah, John, me and Penelope have a Sunday-go-to-meetin’ car. It’s a grey Nash Rambler station wagon parked out yonder in the shed next to the chicken coop.”
“Great Clem, perfect. Okay, here’s my plan, and since I landed forty miles from my rooftop I have to improvise this as I go along. To begin, I want to drive to Dallas to your Uncle Jack Ruby’s place. I’d like to meet him, and since he’s your Uncle I believe it will be easy to accomplish. I understand the Carousel Club has some rooms Uncle Jack uses for ‘special guests’ I bet you can talk him into letting us have the use of one of them tomorrow night.
“Around 12:15 p.m. Friday morning I want you and I to drive your Nash Rambler from Uncle Jack’s Club over to Main Street, turn right onto Houston and go north past the Texas School Book Depository Building.
“Oh, by the way, Clem do you have an overcoat?”
“Sure do John, got me a purty tan one hangin’ right there in that there closet,” Clem said, pointing to the hallway coat closet with his index finger.
“Good, if you will allow, I want to borrow it, and I will get out of the car at the back of the School Book building. You continue to drive north on Houston, circle back around to Main Street and park around the corner from Dealy Plaza. Make sure you park on the right side of Main heading west. Once the parade passes you fall in a few cars behind the last motorcycle escorts and follow them into Dealy Plaza. I will make my way to the roof of the Book building using the rear fire escape and conceal myself behind one of the large air-conditioning units.
“At exactly 12:30, I will jump the shooter on the roof and distract him long enough so Lee Harvey Oswald on the sixth floor, of the same building, can make his rifle shot strike the President. I’ll have to play it by ear from there. If I can get down the fire escape safely, I will meet you in front of the Grassy Knoll on the west end of the School Building. Just drive by slowly and I will jump into your car. We will then head back out of Dallas and return to the Ponderosa. I believe if all goes well there will be so much excitement in and around Dealy Plaza they will never pay any attention to us. Does this sound like a good plan?”
“Well John - that’s a plan all right. Is it good? I shore don’t know, I guess we’ll jest find out tomarrer and the next day. What if the assasser man kills you?”
“Nah, I wouldn’t show up in 2012 if that happened. Of course, I could be shot and injured - it’s just a mystery I really don’t know what’s going to transpire, but I know I must not fail. I am only going to get one chance - I’ve got to make it good. One thing is for sure - it is possible I can succeed, and it is also very possible my attempt will fail. Even in the 21st century I only know of one outcome - the one of failure and the President lives. This is the whole point - you and I are trying to change the outcome, so the future will be a much better place than the one I just left.”
“John, I don’t understand all about them other Universe thangs, but if you git kilt couldn’t that Universe continue on and still be the road you showed me and Penelope on that black picture tellephone?”
“Dad-burn Clem, why did you have to throw reason into my argument? Now I am really worried.”
The time was 10:38:30 p.m. Wednesday, November 20, 1963.
