A Storied Man

Still looking at the scratches on the chamber, I said, “Don’t worry. It may be an older model, but it’s still tough.”"

“No, Falcon, not that,” Chura said. “I think something just bit me. This really hurts.” She reached to pull up the left leg of her overalls.

We all looked at the ground near her feet. There, slithering through the leaves, barely visible but for its movement, was a copperhead snake.

“Agkistrodon contortrix,” Chethra said.

“No, no. Wait. Don’t move, and don’t do anything threatening,” I said.

“Besides moving, I’m not sure how I would threaten a snake. I only know English and Mandarin.”

The snake, a scaly specimen about two feet long and four inches thick, was covered in shades of brown. As it moved toward Danetta, we remained stock still, but Danetta’s lip quivered when the snake wound its way between her feet. She finally exhaled when it rustled out of range.

“It’s hurting worse. Why would it bite me?” Chura asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “You must have stepped on it. Stay calm while we tip the chamber upright. Don’t worry. They aren’t usually fatal.”

“Thanks, but I don’t like probabilities,” Chura said.

Shouts came from behind us. “Over here, Sheriff, over here!” Dammit. We had company, and Wayne and Left Deputy were bringing it straight to us.

Danetta leaned against the bottom of the chamber while Chethra and I lifted from the top. Our feet slipped on the leaves at first,but once we reached the soil, we found good footing. Still, it didn’t move. We tried again, adding groaning and other straining noises, but couldn’t get it off the ground.

“Don’t you two ever learn?” the Sheriff asked, still out of sight.

“Sir, if you could have just seen this guy’s gun,” Wayne said.

“Sure, I’ve heard it before. It was bigger than any gun you’ve ever seen.”

“Not just that, but what it did.”

“Save it, boys. Where are the suspects?”

“Just down there, in the woods.”

The time chamber wouldn’t budge. Chura had sat down, obviously weakened by the snake’s poison.

“Come on. We just have to get in it like this,” I said.

“While it’s lying flat?” Danetta asked.

“It will still work. We just need to roll it enough so we can open the door.”

“Hey you! Stop what you’re doin’, now!” the sheriff yelled.

I pulled out the BFG and fired a shot that left him covered in leaves and black dirt. The sheriff stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide open. The smell of old, rotting leaves filled the air.

Chura got up and shuffled through the leaves to the chamber. We all pushed to roll it over.

“There.” I opened the door, and held it up. “You ladies get in first.” As they tried to lie down inside without squashing each other, I kept the BFG trained on the Sheriff.

“We’ll just be going now, Sheriff. Don’t mind us.”

I lowered my gun and quickly dove inside, letting the door slam behind me.

The sound of primitive handgun explosions filled the air, and bullets pinged off the chamber. The sheriff wasted no time once he figured I couldn’t shoot him. I hoped the older machine didn’t have any weak spots. Coming this far only to end up stranded would not do at all.

I lay on Danetta, back to back, while I worked the controls. The others lay on either side of her, also on their stomachs, barely overlapping her with a leg here and an arm there. There was enough space for four people to stand upright, but horizontally it wasn’t very comfortable.

More bullets. The deputies flanked the sheriff and emptied shotguns at us. He obviously had freed them, but their fear of the BFG had kept them hanging back until they knew it was no longer a threat. I imagined that we were inside the soda can atop a fencepost, good ol’ boys blazing away at it in backyard target practice.

“Falcon, hurry, you’re killing me here,” Danetta said.

“I’m working as fast as I can, ladies. Hang in there.”

The sheriff and his boys reloaded and fired more rounds at us. I could barely think with all the noise.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” Chura said.

Chethra tried to reassure her. “It’s a normal reaction. Don’t worry.”

“Is a ‘normal reaction’ to a snakebite a good thing?” Chura asked.

Everything was set. “Here goes.”

The shooting stopped. Blackness hit us, then blinding light. I saw the old lab again. We were back in our era.

Something felt different. I was more acutely aware of Danetta underneath me. I turned my head, then laughed.

We were all stark naked.

The ladies gasped, in what amounted to a collective, “What the hell?”

Chethra was the first to catch on. “Only what goes back can come back.”

“That’s right, unless it’s been programmed into the chamber before the jump.”

“The sheriff and his deputies are staring dumbfounded at four full sets of clothing,” Chethra said.

I chuckled, but not at what she said. I imagined what their six breasts looked like flattened against the chamber wall. A young woman had once flashed a breast from the passenger’s seat of a skyporter, and pressed it against the window. It was a remarkably un-sexy moment for me, and I imagined this would be about the same, only with many more breasts. Lucky for them and me, however, I was facing the opposite direction.

Just when we all thought we might get time to relax again, we had another hurtle. Lying around nude reveling in our escape wasn’t going to happen.

“Hey, I feel better,” Chura said. “I guess the snake’s poison didn’t make it through, either.”

“Nope, same rule applies,” I said. I didn’t show outwardy how relieved I was that she had made it through okay. I feared that people from eras gone were made of sterner stuff than we, and that she might succumb before we jumped. “Now, how do you ladies suggest we get out of this potentially embarrassing situation?”

They sent me out first, and then asked me to turn on the light as I left the room. I headed out front, almost expecting to see Theo out there, motionless but in rare form. Instead, I stood alone and nude, just like I did any time I visited a competitor’s darkened waiting room after a life-saving mission. I had programmed the chamber to return us outside business hours.

“Psst. Hey, Falcon.” It was Danetta, her head poking through the doorway. “Can you get us some clothes?”

“Well, I’m naked, too. How do you propose I do that?”

“It’s easier for you to cover everything,” she said.

“I’ll take that as an insult, thank you very much.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Just, try to find some way to get us something to wear. Please.”

Whatever we wore, we had a long walk to either my flat or — wherever it was they were staying.

“I need a little incentive,” I said, figuring that if I couldn’t flirt with her when she was already naked, then it was hopeless.

She pushed open the door to reveal a profile silhouetted by the light from the lab. I barely had enough time to believe my eyes before she stepped back and let the door swing shut. Even in that quick glimpse, I could tell she was a lovely woman.

She peeked back through the door.

“What size does everybody wear?” I asked.

A light sweater hung over the back of the receptionist’s chair. I fashioned it into a wrap around my waist and walked out the front door. It turned out to be a short walk to the nearest Walget, the world’s largest retail chain. Barefoot and naked from the waist up, my pride hidden only by an improvised baby-blue kilt, I got fewer strange looks than I expected.

Looking around, I noticed that the night sky was dotted with skyporter lights. More, it seemed, than I would have expected before I met Danetta.

I quickly grabbed a package of men’s briefs, a pair of synthdenim pants, and a rayon shirt — each its own shade of blue. The dressing room was the first privacy I had enjoyed since the motel bathroom. In fact, that day had been overcrowded with people I had never met before and never would again. Fully clothed again and looking amongst the women’s clothing, I at least drew comfort from the fact that the strangers in the store were from my own time. If they saw me as strange, then it wasn’t because of my skin color or my dialect.

After filling Danetta’s order for her and the other ladies, I picked out some synthleather sandals for all of us. I didn’t skimp here, because I knew we might be doing a lot of walking.

On the way to the checkout scanners, I saw a public display terminal. I searched for National Rivers. There, in all its meandering glory, was the Buffalo National River. Curious about Danetta’s note, I looked up the World Conservation Museum. As I hoped, a live feed showed the room where it was preserved under glass.

The hermetically sealed case was much larger, however, and it featured something entirely new: four pair of bib overalls and four flannel shirts in various colors. They were posed vertically, legs and arms outstretched. Nothing indicated that any names were associated with the clothes or the note. We were the time-traveling strangers who saved the environment, and this time, no jump plan had been filed.

One more question remained. Near the front door, I noticed a young male employee looking my way. If I asked him, I figured he would either look at me like I was a complete boob, or have me speak to a manager. I didn’t care. I had to know. “Could you tell me, where are your impact absorption shield emitters?”

“There are four along the front of the building, sir, and 10 mounted on light poles in the parking area. Walget cares about each customer’s safety.”

My God. What a sickeningly rote response. “How long have you been management, son?”

“Just got promoted last month.”

“Right.” I turned and walked toward the exit.

We did it. We had taken on the 20th century and won.

“They’re tested regularly, to ensure we’re providing maximum coverage,” the young man called after me.

I’d hate to be the one testing them.

I turned and shouted over my shoulder, “Thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make three naked women very happy.”

I drove past the trailhead parking area and cut the steering wheel hard to the right. The Scout bounced hard, lifting all of us off the seat. Chura, the lightest, yipped as she hit her head on the bare metal roof of the cab.

“Falcon, the azaleas!” Danetta yelled.

We flattened them, and anything else between us and the time chamber, which we had tucked safely below a hillside not far across the line between the clearing and the heavily wooded forest. Within minutes we would be on our way back to our era.

“Chura’s unconscious,” Chethra said.

Chura was slumped over Chethra, moving only with the Scout’s pitch. I turned my attention back to driving. As we approached the tree line, I stopped the Scout slowly to avoid throwing Chura forward.

Danetta patted Chura’s face while Chethra held her upright. “Come on, baby, wake up,” she said. “We need you ready. We’re here. We’re just about to make the jump.” Then, to Chethra and me, “She’s still breathing.”

In a voice so soft I at first thought someone else had joined us, Chethra said, “My dear Avelia. It’s your mother. Wake up so we can go. Your strength has inspired me, and I know you can do this.”

Her eyes stayed closed. Avelia?

I heard an engine roar and looked back to see the cops, now on the road again, headed our direction.

“We can carry her,” I said. “The chamber doesn’t care whether she’s awake. We can get her to a doctor when we get back.”

They agreed. Chethra grabbed the BFG from the floorboard and handed it to me. “Cover us,” she said.

“What did you watch on that Zenith last night after we went to sleep?” I asked. I had seen a few police show replays from that era, and from the sound of her, Chethra had watched one.

We moved as fast as we could, me pulling up the rear and looking over my shoulder. When the cops pulled into the parking area and started a foot pursuit, I urged the ladies to move a little faster. It was very close now. I saw the trail of matted down leaves, laid flat the day before as we dragged the time chamber out of sight. Only 20 more feet and we would be there.

A shot hit a tree in front of me, to my left, sending bark into my face. Unlike their boss, these deputies were not firing warning shots. No doubt when he radioed them he let them know he lost us, and they had no plans to let the same happen to them.

I could see down the wooded hillside now, and I looked to the spot we had left the time chamber.

Danetta pointed there. “Falcon, isn’t that where it should be?”

“That’s it,” I said.

“She’s waking up,” Chethra said.

“What’s going on, guys?” Chura asked. “Oh, my head.” She reached to touch it, but her mom stopped her.

I turned to see the cops getting too close. I leveled the BFG and shot the ground in front of them. An airborne wall of leaves and dirt rained on them. Obviously acutely aware of my weapon’s destructive power, they stopped where they were and raised their hands. Their guns thumped on the ground. The awe and wonder in their faces told me that, although they had been scared out of their wits, they wanted a BFG.

I was upset that they had got such a close look at the gun.

“It didn’t even make a sound,” Left Deputy said.

Right Deputy nodded his head slowly. “That was cool.”

I launched into my best Theo. “Now, you boys best be leavin’ us about our business. No, tell you what. Both of you, lean over to touch your toes.”

Left Deputy met the request with an impressive performance. He kept his knees almost perfectly straight as he leaned down and introduced his fingers to his shoes.

Right Deputy, however, was a much rounder man. He didn’t get far before he had to stop, lean up, and take a breath.

“You got some of them handcuffs?” I asked.

“Aw, shit, not again,” Right Deputy said.

“I told the ladies here I didn’t plan to shoot nobody, but if you don’t do as I say, I reckon your Sheriff will have your hides. And I don’t just mean he’ll whip ya. I mean your hides will be the only thing left.”

I let that sink in.

“Now,” I went on, pointing at Right Deputy, “you handcuff your arm to his leg. Don’t care which. Just do it.”

“Go on, Wayne, gitcher cuffs out,” Left Deputy said, dejected.

The other deputy, Wayne, handed the cuffs to his partner, then lay on the ground. He extended his left arm and winced as the cuffs snapped over his wrist, then over Left Deputy’s right ankle.

“Now you tighten those down real good,” I said. “I figger the only way you can follow us is if you can carry that big feller,” I said, pointing to Wayne. I turned to Danetta. “Darlin’, could you fetch their pistols?”

“Hey, Falcon, I see it!” Chura said. While I had been dealing with the bumpkins, she had walked a little farther down the hill.

“Know what, boys? You got another set of them cuffs, right? One of you go ahead and cuff yourself to that little tree right there, then throw me all your keys.” They did. “Now, if you somehow git yourselves out of that, you’d best stay put until we’re well out of sight. This here gun’s gotta helluva range, and a wide pattern settin’ you wouldn’t believe.”

As we walked toward Chura’s find, I kept the BFG on the cops until the hill blocked my view of them.

Obviously, somebody had moved the chamber. Though it was tough, it was not indestructible, and I grew more tense with each step. My mind raced. Who moved it? What did they do to it?

It still lay on the ground, as we had left it, but something was different. On the door were two sets of five scratches. I had seen it before, but not in person. Only one animal out there was strong enough to move the chamber by itself.

“A bear did this,” I said.

“Shit,” Chura said.

(continue to The End)

“Hi, I’m Chura.”

“It’s my pleasure,” said the boy. “I’m Nathan, but please call me Nate. All my friends do.”

Chethra stepped up and put her left shoulder between the two youngsters, her right hand outstretched. “Hello, Nathan,” she said. Nathan offered his hand and they gave each other a customary two or three pumps before letting go.

“You have to watch her. She’s not big on nicknames,” I said. “Are you, Sweet Bread?”

She appeared to ignore me. “Nathan, I’m Chethra, Chura’s mother. That’s my sister Danetta, and our esteemed guide here is Billy Boy,” she said.

Chura worked to move her mother aside, but she was too slight to budge her. “Nate, that’s Falcon.”

“Cool name,” Nate said.

Danetta, oddly working to tie the canoe’s lead rope to a tree, chimed in. “Excuse me, but now that we’re all monikered up, and my sister has established that she’s the mother, the father –”

“And the Holy Ghost?” I finished.

Chura and Nate laughed.

“My point is, let’s stop talking and start moving,” Danetta said.

Nate left his bike and led us up the steep bank. It was hard to find solid footing on the ground’s thick blanket of old, dry leaves. We had to grab saplings to keep from sliding into each other. Once we topped the first eroded, earthen overhang, we adopted a zig-zag travel pattern to minimize slippage and to keep ourselves from tiring too quickly.

Chura and Nate walked point with Chethra close behind. Danetta and I hung back a bit and helped each other. We weren’t in shape like the others. After about 20 minutes of that, I spoke up. “So, Nate, you said that a trailhead is ‘real close.’ Exactly what did you mean by that? I haven’t even seen a trail yet.”

“Oh, we aren’t gonna use the trail. It shouldn’t be more than about ten more minutes.”

“People from the past should get a new definition of ‘real close,” Danetta muttered.

She and I discussed Nate’s motorcycle, imagining him making several trips back and forth to ferry each of us to our destination. That created two undesirable situations: drawing attention with the engine noise and splitting up the group.

“And there’s no guarantee that once he got Chura on the bike he wouldn’t try to whisk her away,” Danetta said.

“You told me about the other ladies’ past. What about yours?” I asked.

“It’s checkered.”

“I knew that much. I meant with men.”

“I never married. I guess in a way I was a spoiled princess, and when men I dated felt like they knew me well enough to stop treating me like one, I dropped them.”

“You bitch.” There you go, deflecting a serious moment with humor.

“Thanks.”

We walked for a minute with only the crunching leaves interrupting the awkward silence.

“I do feel like there’s something between us, but I can’t talk about that right now,” she said.

“I understand.” Experience with former girlfriends had taught me that using as few words as possible was the best course.

Finally we reached a narrow forest road. Tall grass growing between its tire ruts, it looked like a lonely path. One vehicle was parked in a small clearing. Large patches of rust interrupted its oxidized blue paint job. On the rear, in raised lettering, were the words “International Scout.”

“You folks are in luck, if you can get her started.”

“No problem,” I said. Chethra rolled her eyes.

For seating, the Scout offered only a bench seat across the width of the narrow cab, and nothing in the back. Unlike the Jeep, it was more like a shortened pickup.

“Four of us can’t fit in there,” Chethra said.

“You folks ain’t had much experience with trucks, have you?”

“Some much less than others,” Chethra said.

“A couple of us will have to ride in the back,” Nate said.

“Us?” Chura asked. Her tone rose in hopeful anticipation.

While Nate spent all of 20 seconds convincing us to take him as our guide, I got started hotwiring the Scout. A rusty toolbox behind the seat, while not as well-stocked as the one in the Jeep, provided the tools I needed. Apparently owners of four-wheel-drive vehicles in that era knew that even a small complement of tools could mean the difference between making it home for supper or taking a very long walk.

The engine turned over several times, but it would not start. “Dammit!” I shouted. We were under more pressure than merely answering the evening dinner bell.

“Did you choke it?” Nate asked. He showed me a pull-choke on the dashboard. I used it and got the engine running.

Nate and Chethra, my two most reliable sources of navigation information, rode up front with me, while Danetta and Chura occupied the open-air truck bed.

It was slow going on the bumpy road, and the sharp turns and proximity of trees made it obvious that we had the right type of vehicle. We met nobody on the way out, but we saw several deer grazing on the grass in the middle of the road. I heard Chura give a shout of, “That sweeps!” after a particularly large group of the graceful creatures sprang away from us, seemingly oblivious to the obstacles that would have entangled a running human.

There was no sneaking up on wildlife in the Scout. Its exhaust system was very loud, and my frequent grinding of the gears frightened off anything that didn’t mind the engine noise.

“Are there many other roads like this one?” Chethra asked.

“A bunch,” Nate said. “Most of these old roads were made by loggers. This is all second- and third-growth forest.”

I was surprised to find myself growing tired of our sun-dappled surroundings. I longed for more stark, sterile environs, and became so immersed in the idea that I forgot my audience. “My kingdom for a skyporter in the clear blue,” I said.

“What?” Nate asked.

Chethra’s elbow stabbed my ribs.

“Nothing,” I said.

“What was it that lady was sayin’ about my dad? Like killin’ him would be the end of the world. Chura told me you folks ain’t from around here.”

I wondered what two teenagers from such distant eras would talk about on a stroll through the woods. How much had she told him? Whatever it was, she had fueled his fervor for our cause. Grilling him about it now would only make him question his wisdom.

“She was just concerned about any of your father’s potential descendants,” Chethra said. “We were there to help your family, and she obviously thought Mr. Falcon’s reaction was counterintuitive to that effort.” True enough.

“You probably think I can’t understand you, but I can. My parents made sure I ain’t gonna be some dumb redneck even though we live in the sticks.”

“I would never suggest otherwise,” Chethra said.

The look on Nate’s face told me he wasn’t sure how to take that remark. Given my short time around Chethra, I could have provided a clue.

The rutted way finally fed into a larger, gravel road that made for faster driving. Within a few minutes we reached asphalt. “Highway 21,” Nate said. According to his guess and Chethra’s memory of the map, we were only a few miles from the road that would lead us to the time chamber. I checked on Chura and Danetta before I turned onto the pavement. They said they would be fine.

The Scout’s engine screamed when I tried to make it go faster than 50 mph. Afraid I would damage it, I backed off a little.

“Okay, Falcon. Cave Mountain Road is just a little ways up,” Nate said. The road would be on our right, about 30 feet short of a bridge over the river, he said.

“The authorities will be waiting at that bridge,” Chethra said.

“They won’t know our vehicle, and I’m hoping by the time they realize who we are, we’ll have a large enough lead to outrun them,” I said. I downshifted to slow the Scout. “Nate, I can go ahead and pull over to let you out.”

“Why?” Nate asked.

Because we can’t have you seeing our time machine.

“It’s way too risky to take you with us.” That was true, too. It could be Nate, not his father, whose survival determined the eventual birth of George Beers.

“But I’m finally havin’ some real fun, Falcon.”

I pulled the Scout over and held the clutch down while I pumped the accelerator. Theo had taught me never to trust the idle when I was in a hurry.

“Trust us, Nathan. You need to get out now,” Chethra said.

He sighed, but did not whine; her serious tone and look had convinced him. He reached across Chethra to give me a firm handshake. “Good luck to you.” Then, to Chethra, “You too, ma’am.” He opened the noisy door and jumped out.

I glanced in the rearview mirror to see him shaking hands with Danetta. When he offered his hand to Chura, she leaned down and pulled him in for a quick hug. What had those two talked about during our walk? I definitely would have to bother her about that later, if we made it.

Chura and Danetta got up front and we all squeezed in tight to make a fit. As we pulled away, there stood Nate, waving his entire arm to say goodbye, getting smaller by the second.

I made out a Deputy Sheriff’s car parked at the end of Cave Mountain Road, apparently vacant. As we got closer, I saw two uniformed officers on the bridge, no doubt on the lookout for a canoe bearing odd-looking strangers. They didn’t look our way until I turned and headed down the dirt road. They showed no signs that we were any concern. I kept us moving, nice and smooth.

“Um, Falcon,” Chura said. “They’re walking to their car.” She had her head turned to track their movements. “Now they’re at their car. Okay. They’re getting in. Shit! Now they’re coming this way.”

I hit the gas on the Scout and went as fast as I could while retaining control. I hoped the police cruiser wouldn’t handle the narrow, winding road as well as our sure-footed ride.

I accidentally slammed the gearshift knob into Danetta’s knee while switching to third. “Ow. Shit!”

“Sorry. It’s a little crowded in here. How come everywhere we go, it gets so damn crowded?”

“Just go, Falcon. They’re coming after us!” Chura said.

I had been chased enough in two days to last a very long time.

“I’m ready for this to be over!” I hit the steering wheel on the last word. “No offense, ladies. You’re all just peaches, but this shit got old yesterday.”

“Hang in there, Falcon, please,” Danetta said.

The Scout was not a speedster, but I knew that we had a chance. The road’s hairpin turns and steep, washed-out sections would slow down the deputies while we kept a brisk pace. There were some spots I wasn’t sure a street vehicle could navigate at all. Our problem was the driver; I was okay, but I hadn’t driven those kinds of vehicles enough to know their limitations.

I took the first tight curve too fast. The Scout fishtailed and, panicked at the thought of plummeting into a ravine, I overcorrected and nearly sent us into the cliff wall on the opposite side.

“Alive. Get us there alive,” Danetta said.

We made it to the top of the mountain without seeing the cops again. We all relaxed a little as the road got straighter and smoother. I took us as fast as I could handle, covering a few miles with no pursuers in sight. I thought we were set. Just keep it on the road and get us the hell out of 1970.

“Falcon, they’re catching up to us,” Chura said.

“What?”

“They’re gaining.”

I gave it more gas.

“Falcon, give me your gun,” Chethra said.

“Chethra!” Danetta said. “We’re not killing anybody!”

“We might need to do something to slow them down,” Chethra said. “Mr. Falcon?”

“I’m keeping both hands on the wheel. Somebody’s going to have to get it.” I leaned to the right and straightened my leg as much as I could without putting the pedal to the floor. “It’s in this front pocket.”

“We’re not shooting at anybody!” Danetta said.

“I’ll just create a diversion. Just get it and hand it to me.”

Danetta was not backing down. “No. If you want it, you’ll have to get it.”

Chethra huffed out a breath of impatience, then leaned over Chura and Danetta and wrenched the BFG from my pocket. Her hand wasn’t very precise and I felt a bit violated.

The cops reached the tail of our dust wake.

“If you’re gonna fire that thing, you need to hold it with both hands,” I said. “Just like the real cops do in the replays.”

Chethra worked to turn herself around, stepping on Chura’s feet in the process. She leaned out the window and fired the BFG. I heard the crack of a large tree trunk, and in the rear view I saw an oak fall onto the roadway. The cops steered around it by going into the opposite ditch, but it slowed them down a bit.

“Damn nice shot, Sweet Bread!”

“Mom, that sweeps!”

“Thank you, but I was way off the mark.”

The cops shot back. Chethra ducked inside the cab, on the other ladies’ laps.

“My God, those things are loud,” Chura said. “Is everything in this era powered by explosions?”

“Pretty much, or by fire,” I said.

A shot shattered the passenger’s side view mirror. Everybody but me ducked their heads into their laps.

“Not far to the trailhead now,” I said. “They’re still gaining on us, but unless they get more accurate with their guns, I think we’ll make it.”

Chethra aimed the BFG straight out her window and fired. A huge tree split with a loud crack and fell behind us, crushing saplings, this time blocking the road and about 20 feet on either side. I was sure I felt the ground shake under its weight.

“A little close on that one,” Danetta said.

“Now that’s a diversion,” Chura said.

The cops stopped and backed up their cruiser, their only choice to leave the road and find a clear path back to it.

(continue to Part 19)

For a full minute, all I heard were the sounds of water lapping the sides of the canoe’s metal hull, and birds calling from the trees.

“I don’t like tense silence,” Danetta said. “Somebody sing a song or something.”

“I’m fresh out of bouncy tunes,” I said.

“I’ve heard pulling a gun on somebody will do that to you,” Danetta said.

Chura started humming a fast song that repeated its main melody about every 10 seconds.

“Okay, let’s not trade for tense noise,” Danetta said.

We approached a shallow spot that ran the width of the river. I carefully stood to get a better look at the rapids, searching for the best “V” shape. From experience on past jumps, I knew that indicated the deepest water. “Okay, see that ‘V’ over there to the left? I’m going to steer us over there, and we’re going right down the mouth. Chura, keep an eye out. Chethra, keep us moving so the current doesn’t take us to the wrong spot before we get over there.”

“Aye-aye, skipper,” Chura said.

I stabbed my paddle into the water and cut it to turn us. Chethra reached out her paddle and pulled a strong stroke. Tiny turtles on a log, nervous at the sight of a boat full of humans coming toward them, slid into the water.

The current pulled us straight downstream. “Chethra, let your sister take over. We need paddling on the right side.”

They fumbled the handoff, and the paddle thumped the canoe floor. “Dammit!” Danetta shouted as she retrieved it.

“Falcon, we’re not gonna make it!” Chura yelled.

I said, “Sure we are,” but I wasn’t sure at all.

I started paddling too, on the right side. “More, Danetta, more!”

“I don’t have anymore,” she said, wildly splashing water each time she finished a stroke.

About a boat’s length shy of our target, we hit the rapids sideways. The canoe ran aground with a muffled crunch of gravel and pitched hard to the right. Danetta fell out.

“Aunt Danetta!”

She wasn’t moving. The water was shallow, but its relentless rush covered her face. Chethra jumped out after her, completing the riverbottom’s job of tipping us over. Chura and I went over the left side of the canoe, into slightly deeper water. I somehow kept a hold on my paddle.

The water rushed into the canoe and kept pushing it downstream. “Chethra, watch it!” I shouted. It slammed into her, knocking her over onto Chura, then slid over both of them, pinning them under water. It ground to a halt a few feet downstream.

After I threw my paddle ashore, Chura and I reached them and worked to pull Chethra off Danetta. Chethra was dazed, but able to stay upright on her knees. I lifted Danetta’s head out of the water. Loose pebbles rolled off her face and plopped into the river. A few remained stuck alongside bright red dimples riddling her cheek.

“Falcon! Help her!” Chura was hysterical.

“I’m trying,” I said.

Chethra was alert enough to get to her feet and help me drag Danetta to shore. The remaining turtles slid from their log.

We laid her on the tall grass, flat on her back. Chethra put a hand on each side of Danetta’s face and tilted her head back slightly, then put her mouth to hers and blew. She overlapped her hands on Danetta’s chest and pushed down as if trying to break her breastplate. Five times she did that, saying aloud “one-one-thousand” for each. After another breath, Danetta coughed violently and vomited. Chethra rolled her on her side to keep her from choking on it.

“Oh shit! Is that supposed to happen?” Chura asked.

“Sometimes, resuscitating breaths go into the stomach,” Chethra said.

Danetta coughed and gagged between long, gasping breaths.

“She should be fine,” Chethra said.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Danetta groaned.

I pulled the BFG out of my pocket.

“Hey, wait, I’m coming around,” Danetta said through another round of coughing.

I turned it over a few times in my hands to check it for damage. Ruger claimed it was waterproof, but I never had taken it swimming to test that claim. “Don’t panic. I’m just giving it a once-over.” I raised it and aimed it at a boulder.

“Are you going to discharge that thing right now?” Chethra asked.

“I need to know if it works. Having a gun that doesn’t work is worse than having no gun at all,” I said. I saw worry in their stares. “I don’t plan to shoot anybody.”

I pulled the trigger and felt the kick. The top of the rock disappeared in a cloud of fragments and dust, accompanied only by the sounds of rock crumbling onto fallen leaves.

“Yep, she’s still hot,” I said.

“What hurts?” Chura asked Danetta.

With Chethra and Chura’s help, she sat up slowly. “Anything you can see, and everything you can’t,” she said. “What the hell happened?”

I put the BFG back in my pocket as I explained. “We crashed. You fell out and bumped your head, then almost drowned while your sister and a canoe full of water crushed you. Then, we dragged you to safety. Again.”

“That’s about what it feels like,” she said.

Danetta winced when Chura reached out to touch her wrecked cheek. After some teeth clenching, they worked together to remove the embedded pebbles. Blood trickled from some of the uncovered spots.

I felt I should do something. My first inclination was to tell them all we needed to get moving. Danetta was only a couple minutes from her unconscious state at the bottom of a river, so that was not a good thing to point out at the moment. I liked Danetta, but I could feel distance between us since the incident back at the Beers cabin. Situations like that were not my strong point; I had never bothered making good with a woman after things even hinted at going south. Once her ire was raised, I got out. Damned if I didn’t care what Danetta thought about me. It frustrated me and made me feel like a bumbling kid, so I had shut out my feelings.

Thinking of nothing to say, I got on my knees behind her and started rubbing her shoulders.

“Wow. That feels great,” she said.

“We can’t tarry,” Chethra said. I could always count on Chethra to keep us practical. “As soon as you feel you can sit in a canoe again, we need to get moving. Falcon, where are we going to take out?”

“Tarry? Come on, Mom. Be a person for once,” Chura said.

“The first bridge we see. Maybe there will be a car or two parked there.” I said.

“Can someone else drive while Falcon keeps doing this?” Danetta asked. As my hands continued working, she began slowly rolling her head in circles.

“Not again,” Chura said.

“Dammit!” Danetta said.

“What?” I asked.

“I lost my paddle.”

“We might see it again. If not, we’ll be alright. I’ll just have to make sure I look at what’s coming sooner than I did that time.” I said.

A few more minutes of rest, and we all trudged through the water to the canoe. Careful to make sure nobody got downstream of it, we managed to roll it over and empty it. Then we picked it up and, holding it tight, set it afloat. I checked the bottom for gushing leaks, and saw none.

“Looks like the boat came out okay,” I said.

We pulled the canoe over near shore, where I retrieved my paddle, then walked it down to a more placid spot. One at a time, we carefully climbed in before I pushed us off.

“Hey! The other paddle!” Chura shouted. There’s my spotter.

In a backwater area on the left bank, we saw it. I guided the canoe over to the spot and Chura grabbed it. She handed it to Chethra, who suggested that Danetta sit out of the way on the floor of the canoe to allow her to paddle on either side. They agreed that our injured crewmember was in no shape to exert herself, and, after all, her track record wasn’t very good. On a long pool now, we had time for her to move and get as comfortable as possible.

The sound of an engine interrupted us. We all looked upstream for the source. Sounds of breaking branches and rustling leaves joined the engine’s chorus, and then we saw the Beers boy on his motorcycle, on the opposite side of the river. He wound his way around trees and brier patches until he was directly across from us. He stopped and shut off the engine.

“Hey, you!” he shouted. “You’re not gonna get very far on the river.”

What was this kid doing? I had just pointed a gun at his father. I was glad he hadn’t seen me fire the BFG at that rock.

“Sheriff’s got people movin’ in,” he said.

I was hesitant, because it could be a trap. “Maybe he sent you,” I said.

“No way. While he was talkin’ to my Daddy and gettin’ on his radio, Momma sent me off to find you.” He dismounted the bike and leaned it against a tree. “Who are you, anyhow? And what was that lady sayin’ about you killin’ my daddy?”

I thought surely I must have mis-judged the boy’s age. He had to be older than 10.

“She just doesn’t like violence,” I said. “Listen, if we’re in so much danger of being caught, then why are you here? To help us?”

“That’s what I was thinkin’.” He looked at Chura. “You’re cute. I don’t meet any girls that look like you.”

There it was. The motivation for and downfall of countless men. A woman who catches his eye, somehow stands out from the rest, makes him do things his mind would not entertain otherwise. Every era of human existence had its own epic stories of such actions. Until then, my main concern for Chura had been her safety. Now, it seemed she might help our cause. Poor kid. If he helped us successfully, then not only would he never date Chura, he would never see her again. If he failed, then he might have to watch her die. He was in a lose-lose situation.

I whispered to the ladies, “I think this kid might be stricken.”

Chura blushed. “He’s kinda cute too,” she said.

“We probably are trapped if we stay on the river much longer,” Chethra said. “They will stake out the bridges.”

I looked back at the boy. “So, you can lead us out of here, help us find a car?”

“Yes, sir. There’s a trailhead real close. Might be some parked there. Better hurry while you’re still ahead of the sheriff.”

“Hold on, son. We’re coming over,” I said. Chethra and I started paddling.

Danetta spoke up, in a hoarse whisper. “Falcon, if that kid puts himself in harm’s way for us, it could screw up everything. George Beers might never be born.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to take him with us. Besides, I don’t know how else to get out of here. If we tried to make it on foot on our own, we could be out here going in circles for hours.”

“Whoo. The closer you get, the prettier you get,” the boy said. “Ain’t many girls around here can say that.”

The boy walked to the water’s edge and reached to take Chura’s hand to help her debark. She accepted and stepped out.

“Ma’am, you okay?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Danetta.

“Yes, I’m fine, thanks,” she said, then followed her sister to the front of the canoe.

(continue to Part Eighteen)

I felt someone poking my shoulder. “Rise, sunshine,” Chura said.

I was groggy. My legs and arms ached as I stretched them. “So, your aunt told me what her name means. Please tell me yours means ’snooze bar,’” I said.

“Well, until mom entered it wrong for my fake ID, it was Charu, which means, ‘beautiful.’”

“Even with the wonder of technology we have in our time, human error creeps in,” Danetta said.

“I believe the source text said ‘Chura,’” Chethra said.

“Not the place I first read it,” Chura said.

“Maybe Chethra’s the one you want right now, Falcon. Her name means, ’sweetened breakfast bread.’”

“This is way too much information right after I woke up,” I said.

They already had talked to the general store manager. Without telling him anything else, they asked the location of the Beers’ street. It was a gravel road, apparently, and one subject to frequent washouts. We might be very glad we had an off-road vehicle.

We quickly gathered the few things we had. When I grabbed the BFG from the nightstand, I tried to tuck it in my usual spot, between my pants and the small of my back. Wearing the overalls, that was not an option. The front pockets were large and deep, so I shoved the BFG in the right pocket, in case I had to draw it. I did not want to shoot anybody.

The ladies headed for the parking lot while I checked us out. Miss Jean, still groggy from what I suspected was a late night of watching her Zenith, communicated in grunts as I turned in the key. Her hair, now unleashed from the towel’s tight hold, was a wiry entanglement of dark brown hair with gray roots. “Y’all enjoy your time here in Jasper,” she said. Until that moment, I never would have imagined that woman saying anything rote.

It took me only a couple minutes to start the Jeep. The motel’s proximity to the north end of town kept us from driving through populated streets and drawing attention. Again we sped down the roads through Boxley Valley, and then turned off the pavement to a road barely wide enough to accommodate oncoming traffic. It started in a field of tall grass, nowhere near the river. Within a minute the trees closed in over us and we were mottled with moving dots of sunlight.

“I believe we’re heading toward the river now,” Chethra said. She tried to hold the map steady as we bounced over the rough surface.

I stopped at a fork in the road. “Where now, Sweet Bread?”

“Stay left, Mr. Falcon,” Chethra said.

“Hey, can I drive some?” Chura asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“Is that a good idea, Falcon?” Danetta asked.

“I don’t see why not. We can’t drive very fast on this road, anyway.”

Chura and I switched places. She tried a few times, with my guidance, but couldn’t get the hang of the clutch and the stickshift and kept killing the engine. I had to hotwire it each time it died.

“Maybe that was a bad idea,” I said. “Why don’t we just leave it in neutral and you can rev the engine a bit. Feel the power of the accelerator.”

She pumped the gas pedal a few times, then held it down for a few seconds. I smiled and dragged my index finger across my throat. “Cut it!” I yelled.

She let off the gas. “That really sweeps! I love to make it roar like that. Thanks, Falcon.”

She and I switched seats again and I got us underway. Soon, we approached what seemed to be a shack. The roof was covered in wood shingles laden with moss. Walls made of wooden planks seemed ready to buckle under a moderate wind. I was relieved to see no Confederate flag hanging out front.

“Is this it?” I asked.

“If our directions are correct, yes.” Chethra said.

A thick, black wire ran from the shack’s roof to a tall wooden pole that was connected to another, and so on. It was that era’s method of delivering power from the main grid. I was surprised that electricity made itself known to such remote reaches.

I saw the river off to the left, but it was hard to get a fix on it.

“The river doesn’t seem very close,” Chura said.

“Obviously it doesn’t usually flood this far out, judging from the age of that house,” Danetta said.

I pulled the Jeep to the side of the road and popped the clutch to kill it. Everyone’s head snapped back.

“It must have been a record rain to make that river swell up and wash that place away,” I said.

“Oh, it was. It’s no wonder they didn’t evacuate. This house probably has been here at least 30 years,” Danetta said. She took a deep breath, then noisily exhaled. “This is it. We’re doing this.”

We all climbed out of the Jeep and straightened up a bit. I grabbed the money case. Without a word, we walked the short distance to the front porch of the shack. We knew we had come to the right place when we saw the front door was adorned with a wooden sign reading, “Beers.”

Danetta walked up the few steps and approached the front door, then turned back to give us a look of nervous anticipation. Something else — a request for permission? — showed on her face. Chethra waved her on. The door rattled as she knocked three times. The next minute felt like an hour.

The door opened to reveal a woman, holding a butcher’s knife and wearing an apron stained dark red. Her dirty blonde hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back into a ponytail. Her smooth skin made it tough for me to guess her age. She looked at Danetta, then around her to the three of us, still standing at the base of the porch steps. “What can I do for you?” she asked. There was no hint of southern accent in her voice.

“Hello. My name is Danetta. We’re looking for the Beers family.”

The woman waved the knife toward the sign on the door. “Looks like you’re here. I’m a little busy right now.” She looked at the case I held. “If you’re selling something, then we’re not interested.”

“No, ummm… Mrs. Beers, I presume? We’re not trying to sell anything,” Danetta said. “In fact, we’re here to make you an offer.”

“I am Mrs. Beers, but my name is Helen. What kind of offer is it? And where are you people from?” she said.

“We’re not from anywhere near here. You are aware of the plans to dam the Buffalo, aren’t you?” Danetta asked.

“Yes, we’ve heard about that. Neil Compton already asked us for our support, and my husband and I each wrote a letter to our congressman. In fact, when you pulled up, I thought you might be Neil, considering you’re driving a Jeep just like his.”

A shiver ran through me, but I tried not to make an outward show of it. Did Chura not look at the name when she read that guest registration card back at the trail? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Of course if he found her note, it would make sense that he was the one parked there. I became paranoid that a local back in Jasper might have recognized the vehicle, too. Compton had been active in the area while campaigning to save the river, and residents of tiny towns tended to notice details.

Danetta very smoothly glossed right over it. “We do know of Dr. Compton’s efforts. It is an uphill battle, however, and we’re here to offer you a chance to avoid personal impact.” Either way, dam or not, she was telling the truth.

“We already know that the government will pay to relocate us if they build the dam,” Helen said.

“What they offer you will hardly pay for a new place to live. I’m sure you have a considerable tract of land down here, don’t you?”

“About 40 acres.”

“If your family hopes to stay near this area after the lake forms, then the government’s payout will buy a roof over your head, but not 40 acres of land.”

Helen stepped onto the front porch and invited us to join her. Each of us chose one of the chairs positioned around a large wooden spool turned on end to act as a table. “You may have noticed that I have all my teeth and I speak clear English,” she said. “My husband was a physics professor at the state university. That’s where he met Neil Compton. He went on a few hikes with him and became more enamored of nature than of education. We came from New York City for his job, and before coming here neither of us had been far from our childhood homes. Seeing so much unspoiled land moved him.”

She went on to tell us that she had tried to get hired, too, but southern universities hadn’t yet warmed to the idea of a female mathematics professor. She quickly tired of life as a professor’s spouse. To keep any hope of tenure, they had to try to please everybody in his department. They attended the proper church while espousing evolutionary theory, drank wine or denounced alcohol, depending on the crowd. When her husband suggested they lead simpler lives, she willingly agreed, and he got a job teaching at Jasper High School.

“I just didn’t know it was going to last 10 years,” she said. “After we bought this place, we became pioneers.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, where is your husband now? Teaching?” Danetta asked.

“No, school’s still out for summer here. He went to Jasper to get a few things. He should be back soon.”

Helen led us on a walk to the river. A narrow trail, just wide enough for us to proceed single file, meandered through a stand of large hardwoods and thick undergrowth. At several points, had I not looked straight down at my feet, I would not have known I was on a trail. As we neared the river, the grasses and young trees gave way to briers and bushes, which held detritus from previous periods of high water. I tried to imagine all of that, even the tallest trees, under water. Only fish and divers will reach this if they build that dam.

She gave a talk that sounded memorized, as if she was trying to sway us into Compton’s camp. If only she had known what we had risked, she might have felt embarrassed.

“Helen, I’m not sure you understood who we are. You don’t need to convince us. We are on your side, but we just want to make sure that, if the dam is built, as many people as possible get fair compensation,” Danetta said.

“Who’s your backer?” Helen asked.

“We are not at liberty to discuss that,” Chethra said.

Behind Helen’s back, Danetta glared at her sister. “That is correct. Our client wishes to maintain anonymity.”

I almost laughed. Theo Cranston could never be called “anonymous.”

“Leaving here would be difficult,” Helen said.

“Remember, too, that you are at risk of floods even if the lake never comes to be,” Danetta said.

Helen laughed. “We’ve never had one come close to us in the 10 years we’ve been here.”

We headed back to the shack on another trail, just as narrow and thickly wooded as the other. Near the end was an aluminum canoe resting atop a small wooden platform. They used it for day trips and moonlit floats on the river, she said. “You wouldn’t believe how many stars you can see out here at night.”

Back on the front porch, I could tell Danetta was trying to think of another angle. I don’t know why any of us suspected it would be easy to convince a genius’s ancestors to pick up and move. We couldn’t just tell the truth. We’re from the future and we know you will die in a flood unless you move away from here. That would not go over well at all.

I heard the sound of a truck coming down the road. The forest was so thick that sound didn’t travel very far, so I knew it was close. We all turned to watch a blue pickup approach. It slowed as it passed our Jeep, then continued and parked on a small spot of ground cleared for that purpose.

A man about six feet tall got out and walked quickly toward us. Helen stood. Ever the polite guests, we did the same.

“Is Neil here?” the man asked as he approached.

“No, Joe, he’s not.” She turned to look at us. “They just happen to drive a truck like his.” I thought I noticed a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“Well, the Sheriff’s out looking for somebody who might have stolen Neil’s. Seems Frank Highsmith thought he saw a group of suspicious strangers driving it out of the Riverview Motel parking lot. Tom at the general store told me somebody was asking how to find our road. Since we’re the only people on it, I got worried and headed straight home to check on you. Looks like we have a group of strangers right here. I know that’s Neil’s Jeep. I’ve ridden in it many times, and I remember the dents and scratches. Who are you people?”

Thinking there was little time to waste now, and figuring I was a better liar than the ladies, I spoke up. “We know Dr. Compton, and he’s fine. We’re here to offer you a lot of money for your house and your land. If the dam is approved, your land value will plummet and you will be bought out for bottom-dollar by the government.”

“Neil knows you?” Joe asked.

“Yes. We borrowed his Jeep because we don’t have anything good for driving these roads.” I said. Oh, shit, it’s getting deep now. “We’re fighting for the same cause he is, but we want to make sure that potential victims have an out.”

“How about we wait for the Sheriff? He’s bound to be on his way here by now,” Joe said.

“If you’ll just accept our offer, then we’ll be on our way,” I said.

“What is your offer?” Helen asked. She looked at Danetta. “You never mentioned an amount.”

“We are prepared to pay you $150,000,” she said. I had no idea how she came up with that.

Did she still believe we might go to other homeowners and offer to buy them out, too? I think our friend Joe had made it clear that our plan was in jeopardy. We needed to get what we could and then do damage control.

“We are not interested in selling,” Joe said. “Besides, I’m not sure we can believe anything you say.”

The sound of an engine pierced the forest.

I picked up the case, set it on the table, and opened it. “Mr. Beers. Or is it Dr. Beers? This is cash. You can have it all, and we don’t want anything of yours. Just promise us that you will use this money to move your family. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.”

“The only thing I can promise is that you are not leaving here in Neil’s Jeep,” Joe said.

“Falcon, what the hell are you doing?” Danetta said through clinched teeth.

The engine sound grew louder.

“I’m just trying to show the Beers family that our offer is sincere and that we have nothing to gain from this.”

“Joe, they did have plenty of time with me, alone, before you got here. They didn’t even ask to come in the house.”

“Still, nobody’s going anywhere until I have some answers.”

Around the bend in the road came a motorcycle, ridden by a boy whose age I guessed couldn’t be more than 10. He pulled up near the porch and shut off the engine.

It’s getting awfully damned crowded here.

The boy regarded us for a second, then said to Joe, “Hey, daddy, the sheriff’s coming. About a mile out.”

“Come up here with us, son,” Helen said.

The boy joined his parents, to us just another branch on George Beers’ family tree. All three of them would die by drowning if we were unsuccessful.

I heard the sound of another vehicle coming down the road. If we got hauled into jail, that would be it. We would not only fail; we would die painful deaths in that ancient era.

I pulled the BFG from my front pocket and aimed it at Joe. “Look –”

“Falcon, what the hell?” Danetta shouted. Chura and Chethra each said something, too, but I couldn’t make it out over Danetta.

“That sound is the doom of our plan and ourselves,” I said.

“Stop aiming that goddam gun at him,” Danetta said.

“He’s right,” Chethra said. “We can’t let that sheriff find us here.”

“Calm down, please,” Helen said.

I continued my thought. “As I was saying. We can’t drive that Jeep out of here. That’s obvious. But, we are upstream from where we need to be, and you have a canoe. New plan. You take the cash. We leave your friend’s Jeep and take your canoe. Sound fair, Joe?”

I saw sweat drip off Joe’s brow. Helen pulled their son in close and he laid his head on her shoulder.

“What kind of firearm is that?” Joe asked.

“One that will kill someone much more quickly than the guns you’ve seen,” I said.

“If you kill him, Falcon, then you don’t know how you’ll affect the –”

“That’s enough, Danetta!” I shouted.

There I was again, just making sure my customers, and I, got back to the jump in time.

“Affect what?” Joe asked. “What the hell’s going on here?”

“I’ll tell you. We’re going to go get your canoe and then float on down the river, never to be seen again, and you’ll take this $225,000 and move away from here,” I said. “Come on, ladies.” I walked backward to keep an eye on the family as my three partners in crime led the way.

They carried the canoe while I kept an eye out for Joe. We ran down the trail toward the river as the sound of the sheriff’s engine grew louder. Finally, it stopped. “Move faster,” I said. As I looked back, I could barely see the shack through the trees. I saw the boy run inside with the money.

“Godammit, Falcon! We’re going as fast as we can here. These briers are ripping my legs to shreds,” Danetta said.

“You guys, stop yelling,” Chura said. “It’s not helping.”

A voice called out, as if coming from a loudspeaker, “Stop! You are suspects fleeing the scene. I will pursue and use force if necessary.” I heard a car door slam.

I pocketed the BFG. We flipped the canoe over and it slammed onto the water. “It’s gonna be tight with four of us,” I said. “Chura, you probably have the best eyes, so you sit up front and watch for rocks and stumps. Chethra, Danetta, you two share the middle seat, and I’ll sit back here and steer.” They climbed in and made the wobbly walk to their seats while I held the canoe steady. Then, I pushed off as I climbed aboard. Chethra, the stronger of the two sisters, unclipped the paddle beside her legs as I did the same with mine.

The water was swift where we put in, so a chase on foot through the woods had no chance of catching us.

“What do I do?” Danetta asked.

“Sit there and look pretty,” I said.

“You’re lucky I’m not holding that paddle right now.”

“The river’s low, so we may have to drag some,” I said. “Now, paddle!”

The sheriff’s voice called out again. “Freeze!” I turned back to see him on the bank. He drew his gun and fired a warning shot skyward. Gambling that he wouldn’t shoot at us if I didn’t draw my weapon, I let the BFG rest in my pocket.

“Oh, now that somebody starts shooting, Mr. Cowboy decides to relax and take it easy,” Danetta said.

We made good time for about 10 minutes, then hit a long, deep stretch of water. We timed our strokes and kept moving, then had to get out and drag at the end of the pool. We floated past towering bluffs dotted with scraggly pines that somehow found enough soil to grow.

“Rock!” Chura yelled.

“Where?” I asked.

“To the right.”

I turned my paddle to pull us hard left. Chethra, who learned quickly, paddled on the left to straighten us up and pull us past the rock.

For the next few miles, it was more of the same. Paddle. Drag. Avoid rocks and stumps.

“Can’t they just drive ahead and get to us from downstream?” Chura asked.

“It’s not impossible, but the roads here don’t follow the river,” I said.

“What about that spot where we first hit the paved road? Right there where that bridge crosses the water. Don’t we have to go under that bridge?” Chura asked.

Chethra spoke up. “I spent quite a lot of time looking at the map, and roads cross it in several places between here and the canyon under Hawksbill Crag.”

They were right. As long as we stayed on that river, the sheriff and anybody else he enlisted would know exactly where we were headed. We had to get back on the road somehow.

(continue to Part Seventeen)

“So, your sister doesn’t seem to be crazy about me.”

“You’re not the problem. She’s just one of those types who has very few friends and takes a long time to feel like she knows somebody. If I didn’t have her along, I wouldn’t be strong enough to do this. She supports our cause, but thinks I went overboard with our own money.”

“I hope I’m not being too nosy. What did your family to do earn the fortune your sister says you squandered?”

“That’s part of my motivation. It started out from oil. It’s been a long time since anybody in my family actually owned any mineral rights, and we were a little late getting into other areas. A few inventors approached our company with cleaner technologies back in oil’s heyday, but we just bought and buried the ideas.”

“You’re a conspiracy theorist, huh?” I grinned and threw another rock.

“I wouldn’t say that. Nice skip on that one, by the way. I’m just glad the ideas eventually re-surfaced and made a difference.”

“After your family’s company drained all its oil fields.”

“Right. So, I guess maybe I’m looking for absolution.”

“Well, I’m a large bird of prey, not a priest.”

For the first time, instead of just a grin, I saw her toothy smile.

“So, what about Chura’s father?”

“Nobody knows for sure. He was working in a government lab, top secret clearance. They just told Chethra that an accident killed him. Only love of her life, and Chura never got to know him.”

We both just let that one hang out there.

“Now, shut up and see if you can skip one better than this.” She held the rock close to my face, then stood up and threw it side-armed over the water. It skipped all the way across and glanced off the opposite bank.

“Good one, Aunt Danetta,” came Chura’s voice from behind us.

“Where’s your mom?” Danetta asked.

“She’s looking at the map, and searching in something called a telephone directory.”

Chura leaned down and picked up a rock. Then, in a fluid motion identical to Danetta’s style, she sent it skipping.

“You hit the other side. Okay, what’s the family secret here?” I asked.

“No secret. While mom was getting her education, Aunt Danetta and I spent lots of time together.”

I looked at Danetta. “You didn’t pursue the academic course?”

“Chethra’s mother was a stickler for that. Said that the family’s fortunes may fail one day, and she would need a way to make an honest living.”

“Chethra’s mother?” I asked.

“We’re only half sisters.”

“Oh. That explains a lot.”

“Hey, that’s my mom you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, show me how it’s done,” I said.

I stood and tried to emulate their throwing style. After a few tries and some direction, I got the hang of it. A few of my rocks made it all the way across.

“I always like learning things from impetuous single girls leeching off the family fortune,” I said. “Even after the fortune’s gone.”

We walked around searching for good skipping rocks, a difficult chore even in the full moon’s light. I looked up at the moon, amazed that man’s landing on it still was fresh in the minds of everybody we would see in the coming day. I also wondered what they would think if I told them we haven’t colonized it yet.

Back in the room, Chethra filled us in on what she had found.

“I found one listing under the last name ‘Beers,’” she said. “I think it would be best to approach them in person. The map doesn’t show rural routes, so we’ll have to consult the locals.”

“So much for as little contact as possible,” I said.

“We’ll start with the general store manager. We already know he likes us, or at least tolerates us,” Danetta said. “If he’s lived here any length of time at all, he might be able to point the way.”

Loose plan in place, we managed to fine tune the Zenith enough to tolerate a few replays. Entertainment was not a lot different from what we saw in our time — problems with children, spouses, bosses — but the characters dressed in clothes that looked strange to us and used ancient technology in their everyday lives. The biggest difference was their pale skin. No humans looked like that anymore.

We went over the plan again before going to bed. After finding the location of the Beers family’s residence, we would approach them and offer to buy their house and their land. If they quickly agreed to deal, then we would try to buy out others, too. We had no time to establish a relationship to earn their trust, and hiring a realtor would only take more time and increase the risk of era contamination.

Who am I kidding? We’re about to intentionally commit era contamination.

Whatever happened, upon waking at our democratically decided hour of six o’clock in the morning, the time the general store manager arrived in town to open the store, we would have only a little more than 10 hours to do everything. Beyond that, our DNA would alter to the point that the time chamber’s sensors wouldn’t recognize us and, shortly after that, we would die.

(continue to Part Sixteen)

After I paid Miss Jean, I headed back to the Jeep and helped Danetta lug the money case to our room door. I heard the river mumbling and gurgling in the darkness. I pulled out the room key, a piece of metal with jagged teeth about the length of my pinky finger. A piece of plastic, bearing the room number, was attached to the key by a small metal ring.

“That’s a weird plasti key,” Chura asked.

“That isn’t the key,” I said. “This is.” I held up the metal key. I inserted it into the lock and tried to turn it. I jiggled it and tried again, this time with success. As I pushed opened the door, a musty smell hit me.

“So, if the power grid goes down, we can still unlock the door?”

“Yep.”

We set the case on a small table near the window. I saw a climate control unit there and figured out how to make it blow cool air.

A bit prematurely, we agreed on sleeping arrangements. They insisted that I take one of the beds, while Chethra and Danetta claimed the other. Chura got the floor by default, because she was the youngest. I pulled the BFG 3000 out of the back of my pants and laid it on the nightstand, then flopped on my bed. After I bounced a couple times, I lay there only a second before sensing the bed’s effort to suck me into its middle. I gave in and just moved to that spot. Chura, sitting next to Chethra at the table, flipped through a Bible that said it was placed by the Gideons.

Danetta pulled two bills from the case. “Falcon, why don’t we go look for some era clothes while you get cleaned up?”

“I’d rather nobody go out there until we have to.” I looked at my mud-smeared clothes. My shirt had a rip in the right shoulder from debris thrown by Glock and Speel’s errant skyporter blast. Snags ran up the front of my pants, the aftermath of briers while riding Theo’s ATV. “I guess I can’t put these back on, though.”

“Wish us luck,” Danetta said. Chura and Chethra stood up and followed her to the door.

“All three of you are going?” I asked.

“Safety in numbers,” Danetta said. She opened the door. “Bye.”

They would be gone a while. For the first time in years, I was going to take a bath. With hot enough water and a little imagination, I could transport myself back to my flat’s hot tub.

I soaked myself into almost feeling human. I scrubbed everywhere, then scrubbed the important parts again. I hummed a tune whose title escaped me, and longed for one of Theo’s cigars. I only indulged in such contraband when I was with him. A glass of wine would have been nice, too. Instead, I settled for water from the tap, in a squat glass with a strange, wavy exterior.

My glass held high, I said, “Here’s to you, Theo, you sumbitch.” I took a swig. “And here’s hoping I don’t make you an invalid next time.”

I rested my head against one end of the tub while watching my toes play with the water faucet on the other end. Bored with that, I put my feet back in the water and closed my eyes. Stillness and my occasional sloshing of the water helped clear my head before I thought more about what we were doing.

Was there any possiblity of success? Tampering with the timeline almost always results in problems, and going back for a second effort usually makes things worse. Havoc doesn’t discern between good and bad intentions.

I climbed out and grabbed a towel from the wire shelves, then saw in the mirror a man I wasn’t sure I knew. The hair was the same, the face familiar, but inside was a feeling of uncertainty both frightening and invigorating. Besides a few exciting jumps in my past, life was fairly predictable before I met Danetta and her girls. Get up, go to work, collect a fee, provide a service, come home. On that day, I had done all those things and much more. Tomorrow, I would check off only the first thing on that list, and what came next was anybody’s guess.

Wrapped only in my towel, I turned on the room’s display device. It was called a “Zenith.” The image was mottled with white spots and an annoying hiss droned just below the level of the dialogue. I made out one line — “Not the craw, the craw!” — which brought laughs from an audience, then turned it off.

I heard a key working at the door, then saw the knob turn. As the door opened, I checked my towel to make sure all vitals still were covered.

Danetta peeked in. “Oh, good, you’re not completely nude.” She pushed her way in and Chura and Chethra followed.

“Barely,” Chethra said.

Chura bounced her gaze around the room.

“I see you have something there. Those for me?”

“And for us. But it’s pretty hard to tell the difference,” Chura said.

They had found the local general store manager locking up and flashed money to convince him to extend his hours.

“He gave us no trouble at all about our skin color,” Chethra said.

“Great. Maybe we’ll have good luck tomorrow, too,” I said.

I accepted a red, plaid flannel shirt and a pair of bib overalls, along with a pair of waterproof, steel-toe boots. Except for the shirt colors, the ladies’ outfits were identical to mine. I retreated to the restroom to change. When I returned, we no longer looked like we had stepped back in time; we looked like we belonged there.

Chura turned on the Zenith and worked to find a replay that was watchable. Chethra studied the map we had pulled from the Jeep’s dashboard compartment.

“Hey, Falcon, can you come outside with me so we can talk?” Danetta said.

“Sure.”

We walked down to the river’s edge. Its sound was much more relaxing than the splashes I made in my bath. Without a word, we both sat on a large rock perfect for that purpose and for several minutes watched the moonlight dance on the water.

I broke the ice. “So, do you think we can do this?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. We have to, Falcon. I can’t be responsible for all those deaths, but I can’t give up what we made better, now that I’ve seen it.”

“I understand.” I leaned over to pick up a flat rock. “What I can’t understand is why you didn’t keep working on change in our time.”

“Some of our members were talking about using eco-terrorism. Driving tillers over golf course greens, blowing up factories that pollute the air –”

“Planting fast-growing, rogue trees that drip sap on your enemies?”

“Joke all you want. They wanted to do some stupid things that would have got us shut down.” She tucked a few straggling hairs behind her left ear. “I just can’t believe I ended up causing so many deaths, after all the grief I gave them.”

I flung the rock, skipping it half way across the river. “You chose names for yourselves. Why did you choose Danetta?”

“It’s Hebrew for ‘God is my judge.’”

“Oh.”

“I know. Don’t say it.”

(continue to Part 15)

“That’s exactly what I was doing, and your treasure is right back there,” I said, pointing my thumb at the case. “I need to know which direction to turn. Chura, you might find a map in that compartment in front of you.”

By the time Chura unfolded the map and she and the others located us on it, I reached a paved road — right beside the Buffalo River. Awaiting further instructions, I looked at the water and thought of its significance considering our situation.

My display utterly useless in our navigation, I relied on my passengers’ careful direction as I turned left and headed for a town called Jasper. It was about 40 minutes down the road if their calculations and the Jeep’s speedometer were accurate. They had decided it was the nearest town likely to have a motel room or other form of lodging we could use as a base for our operations. Although we had only slightly more than 20 hours left, we needed a place to stay. It was getting dark, and going around knocking on doors at night was not a good idea.

“I hate to lose all this time right at the start. If only we could have jumped in the morning,” Danetta said.

“Fate forced our hand on that one,” I said. “If you believe in Fate.”

Hills draped in green surrounded us as we drove through Boxley Valley. The Ozarks were more similar to the Smoky Mountains than the Rocky Mountains. Trees ran all the way to each peak, with only points of erosion or cave collapse showing bare rock.

Almost exactly 40 minutes later, we arrived in Jasper, where we immediately saw Riverview Motel and Canoe. The sign indicated vacancies. Unanimously elected to check us in, I pulled the Jeep into a parking spot and then popped the clutch to kill the engine. The ladies’ heads snapped back.

“Smooth,” Chethra said.

“You’re welcome to take a crack at driving,” I said.

“Before you get out, hang on,” Danetta said. She spit on her fingers and reached for my face.

“Ugh, Aunt Danetta!” Chura said.

“Likewise,” I said. “What are you doing?”

“We have to get some of this dirt off your face.” She wiped my forehead, then reloaded her spit and cleaned my cheeks.

I looked in the rearview mirror. “I look like shit. Is that better than I looked before you put your spit on me?”

Danetta picked at my hair. “Believe it or not,” she said.

As I approached the motel office, I noticed a window sign that proclaimed, “No shirt, no shoes — no service.” They need this kind of notification? Below it was a rectangular, white sticker that read, “Beam Me Up, Jesus.”

A bell rang when I walked through the door. Nobody was tending the counter. Through a door behind it, I saw a dark room with flickering light, probably from some primitive sort of display device. I think they called it “television.”

“Gawd dayum, Jean, cain’t you hear that bell?” a voice called from somewhere deeper than the room I saw. Hearing that accent, my mind flashed back to Theo.

A human shadow appeared and crossed the wall in front of me, until a short woman appeared in the doorway. A white towel wrapped into a turban sat atop her head, concealing all but a few whisps of her dark brunette hair. She wore a tattered, pale yellow bathrobe and held a cigarrette between her lips.

She turned back and yelled, “I tell ya, them boys Fante and Mingo was sweet on each other.”

The hidden voice replied, “They was torturing people, Jean. I ain’t never heard of no homo what liked torturin’ people.”

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I was in a bit of a rush, so I spoke up.

“You are Jean, I presume?” I asked.

“I am,” she said, facing me now as she approached the counter. “You ever seen The Big Combo?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

A face appeared briefly in the doorway behind Jean, then ducked into the shadows just as quickly.

“Well, my husband and I seen it together on our first date back in ‘55. The Harrison TV stations won’t never play nothin’ like that. I wish they was some way we could see that again. You know, just watch an old movie here on the TV. Any movie we want.”

“Maybe someday you’ll have that opportunity. I saw that you have rooms available.”

“Sure do.”

I heard a throat clearing loudly, somewhere in the darkened room.

“Well, hold on a minute now,” Jean said. She ducked into the dark room and got into a hushed, heated discussion with a man I assumed to be her husband.

His voice louder in his anger, the man said, “I don’t want no… what is he? Some kind of nigger chink? Whatever he is, I don’t want him stayin’ here.”

“We need the business this time of year, honey. River’s low in these parts, and ain’t many people knockin’ down our door for a room. Just give me a minute.”

Jean returned to the counter. “How did you wanna pay today?”

“Cash,” I said.

“Well, I think you’re in luck.”

“Thank you, Ms. –”

“Just call me Miss Jean.”

I went to the Jeep to get money. Miss Jean and her husband certainly hadn’t laid out the red carpet. It was a roof over our heads, though, and if his animosity was any indication of the majority attitude, I didn’t want to risk looking anywhere else.

“So, how did it go?” Chura asked.

I opened the case as she and the other ladies looked on. “Not great, but we have a place as soon as I pay. Does anybody know what a nigger chink is?”

“Did someone call you that?” Danetta asked.

“Evidently not the person in charge, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s a racial slur,” Chethra said.

“What’s the purpose?” Chura asked.

“Obviously, the locals think that our friend Mr. Falcon is, using eras-gone terminology, half African-American, half Asian-American.”

“And they don’t like that for some reason?” Chura asked.

“Oh there’s probably plenty of dislike for either around here,” Chethra said, “but I wouldn’t say it’s based on reason.”

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Danetta said.

“We’re screwed.”

“Chura!”

(continue to Part 14)

“Nothing,” I said. “Now, you still haven’t told me your plan. Let’s hear it.”

It was clear we would have time. The road became so steep and narrow that each tight curve put us at risk of a head-on collision. I only hoped that anybody coming the opposite direction had the sense to slow down, too.

“It’s not that much different from what we’ve already told you,” Danetta said.

“As you may have noticed, my cage has been rattled a few times since then. Fill me in.”

“Okay, no problem. You girls stop me if I forget something.” Danetta said.

Danetta had already left her note just like before, because it turned out to be more important than she had ever imagined. It proved instrumental in preventing the damming of the Buffalo River and had a ripple effect on nature conservation. That part, they did not want to change.

The consequence of that positive influence was that Jacob Beers, inventor of impact absorption shields, never was born. “Of course, history books after our return didn’t show anything about Jacob Beers, but in my research I found information about a Beers family that lived near the river.”

Their home, as well as many others throughout the centuries, was flooded when heavy rains caused flash floods. The runoff from the steep canyon hills and innumerable seasonal streams sometimes made the Buffalo rise faster than even weekend campers could get to higher ground, much less a family trying to save everything they hold dear.

“That’s not to mention all the people who died as a result of falls from buildings, crashes in skyporters, airplanes…” Danetta’s voice started quivering.

“You can’t blame yourself for all that,” I said. Then, to myself, And sometimes you can’t have it both ways, either.

She steeled herself, then continued.

“If we can just get that one family to move from harm’s way, then Jacob Beers’ family will survive to procreate another day, and hundreds of years from now, he’ll be born in Canada.”

“And you’re hoping that just throwing them this money will do it.” I said.

“I don’t see how we have time to do anything else.”

They hoped to buy out several families, she said. In 24 hours, though, that could be difficult. If it took all the money just to convince one family to move, then the first and most obvious hurdle never was in question.

“I think we need to stick to one family,” Chethra said. “Otherwise, we don’t know how we might alter history. What if we move a man who would have died regardless of whether you ever left your note? Maybe, in the future without your note, he was killed in an accident while helping build the dam.” For once, she and I were in complete agreement. It was a great example of why so many people fought to ban time travel the minute it became a reality.

I was no saint when it came to unethical dealings on time jumps, but until then I never knowingly took part in a customer’s plan to change the past. That was all thanks to Danetta and her sidekicks. Still, I wanted to see them succeed.

“We’ve established that we’re going to be a minority in these parts,” Chethra said. “On top of that, except for Mr. Falcon here, we’re women. If memory serves, the backwoods south in 1970 was not the best place for a black woman to be taken seriously as a potential landowner. After all, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in the south just two years ago.”

“You ladies have done your research,” I said. “One question.”

“Shoot,” Danetta said.

“If you only wanted to write a note on that first jump with me, then why did you bring your sister and Chura along?”

“I invited Chura because she had helped me raise money for the trip. I told my sister I was using some of our family fortune to treat Chura to a jump. Chethra didn’t trust me, so she insisted on coming along to — ”

“I don’t feel bad about that. Clearly, you didn’t trust me, or you would have told me instead of my daughter that you had spent your years wasting our family’s fortune on saving the environment.”

That was the first I knew who was the older sister.

A few minutes of silence followed. Chethra stared at the cliff wall to our left, while Danetta surveyed the steep drop to our right. Chura played with the rudimentary radio in the dashboard.

“Aunt Danetta, if we’re screwed — ”

“Chura!”

“Sorry, mom. If we’re… at a major disadvantage because we’re women and we’re a minority, like Mom said, then how do we pull this off?”

I almost felt their gazes shift to me.

“Oh, now wait a minute. I’m a driver. I get you back in time, and I get you from place to place.”

“Falcon, we’re all here now, and it’s clear we need your help,” Danetta said.

I stopped the Jeep. The engine rumbled as it idled, the perfect sound effect for my mind mulling over everything. You wanted a purpose in life, pal. Great, they had driven me to talk to myself.

“You want me to pose as the buyer?”

“Sure, sounds like a great idea. What a team player,” Danetta said. She looked at Chura and nodded. “First step? Getting you cleaned up. You look like you’ve been digging for buried treasure.”

(continue to Part 13)

“Just ignore that and keep going,” I said. “Danetta, get in.” The pounding on the front door continued.

She grabbed the case of money and walked as quickly as its weight allowed.

The controls on the older panel came back to me, and I managed to set the date and time and get her on her way. Chura and Chethra stood slackjawed as they watched her disappear in a shimmer of light. Although they had made jumps of their own, they never had seen one in person. I remembered how jarring it was the first time I saw a human being replaced by air.

The pounding from the front door grew louder. I couldn’t make out what the voices were saying. Still on the waiting room chairs, Theo managed to yell, “We don’t want what you’re sellin’!”

Chura went next followed by Chethra.

Just as Chethra dematerialized, a loud crashing sound came from the front room. Had someone smashed their way in? We had shut the door to the lab, so I couldn’t see what was happening.

I walked to the chamber, which I could control from the inside now. As I set it to follow me, I heard Theo again, but not loud enough for me to make out the words. I started the jump sequence.

“Git back here, you sumbitch!” Theo yelled. A loud bout of coughing followed.

Staring out from the chamber, I saw Glock come through the lab door, his shirt ripped in three places and both his pant legs shredded from the knee down. In the distance behind him was Speel, tending to Theo. Both of the agents had outlived their skyporter. I waved goodbye to Glock as the tingle of time’s pull shot through my body. I plunged into a depthless black, then a blinding white.

——-

“So quiet,” Chura said.

Danetta gazed skyward. “All I can hear are the birds and the breeze,” she said. She sat on the ground, both hands on the cash.

Chethra said, “Well, now it’s my turn to pee in these woods. Don’t worry, Danetta, I’m not going to steal your thunder by writing a note.” Her feet rustled away to find a private spot.

I knew we couldn’t relax long, but I needed to rest. I sat, leaned back against a tree, and closed my eyes, just taking deep breaths. Although the air was better in our time than before Danetta’s note, it was nothing like what filled my lungs as I dozed in and out of consciousness. I was vaguely aware of the planning going on after Chethra’s return. I wasn’t the brains behind the next part of the operation.

“So, do you know where you’re going first?” I asked.

“Well, first we have to get down off this mountain. The floodwaters don’t reach here,” Danetta said.

“Why don’t we count the money? Find out what we have to offer,” I said.

“I’ll do it,” Chura said. She looked at Danetta, who pushed the case her direction.

Chethra kicked the gravel parking lot, sending gray rocks pinging off the Jeep CJ-6’s hubs. “How likely is it that Time Code Enforcement will follow us here?” she asked.

“Not very. I left nothing that would tell them where or when we are. They don’t know the plan,” I said.

“Unless your hurt friend says something,” Chethra said.

“I know Theo well enough to tell you that he’s not telling them anything.”

“Unless they know what we’re up to, Chethra, there’s no reason for them to think we would come back here,” Danetta said.

I sat as Chura counted and the two sisters argued back and forth about the possibility of getting caught. They had 24 hours to accomplish their goal and get back to our time without dying, and they were worried about whether or not the law was on their tail. Obviously I was the only one around who had just been chased and nearly killed by a skyporter, and then narrowly missed by one of the robot agents that somehow survived a horrific crash.

Then there was Theo. I hoped that whatever we did this time would not result in his paralysis and possibly death. Then I smiled as I imagined Glock and Speel getting an earful of cowboy-cussing back in the time lab.

“So, what do we do about this thing?” Chethra asked, looking directly at me. She stood near the time chamber, it’s anachronistic gleam setting it well apart from its new surroundings.

I thought for a moment. “Not much hope covering it up. It’s too heavy to move.” I looked at the Jeep. “Unless.”

“You’re going to drive that thing?” Chethra asked.

Chura stopped counting the cash. “What? That sweeps! Can I ride?”

“We’re all going to need to ride in it to get off this mountain,” I said.

“You can start it?” Danetta asked.

“I can hotwire it. Something Theo taught me on one of our jumps.”

“Using it as a means of transportation is one thing. I’d rather you not use it to drag our hope for escape across the ground,” Danetta said.

“That chamber is resilient. It’s made to resist a lot of tampering,” I said. “We know from experience that we have at least three hours before that Jeep’s owner comes back.” I checked the Jeep’s doors. Unlocked. There was a toolbox in the back, next to a large tarp.

“Chura, take this screwdriver. There is a guest registration box not far down the trail. Use this to get into it and see if the Jeep people are staying overnight.” Some hikers filled out the voluntary cards, used by authorities in case anybody went missing, and for statistics on trail use. It was worth a try.

Then, to Danetta and Chethra, “You go leave your note just like you did before, and you help me move the time chamber.”

Chura and Danetta scampered across the road and onto the trail. Chura turned and shouted back, “Hey, guys, we have $160,000 so far. Is that a lot?”

Everybody looked at me. “Yes, that’s a lot,” I said.

Chethra and I spread out the tarp from the Jeep, then managed to tip the time chamber over and on top of it. We grabbed the tarp and tugged. The leaves providing a good sledding surface, we dragged the chamber far enough down the hill that it wasn’t visible from the parking lot. Danetta returned in time to help us fold up the tarp.

“So, do you feel like you just changed history — again?” I asked.

She just gave me a smirk and threw the tarp into the back of the Jeep.

Chura came running back across the road from the trailhead. “Hey, the latest card I see was filled out this morning, and says they’re doing a two-night backpacking trip.”

“Good news for us,” I said. “Okay, I’ve taken care of my end, the transportation. Now let’s execute this scheme you ladies hatched.”

We all climbed inside the Jeep, the case of cash now in the back where Chura could continue counting. I leaned down and, using pliers and a screwdriver from the toolbox, started work on hotwiring the Jeep. Let’s see, how was that? Red wire? Blue wire? Something about a solenoid…

A half hour and much brow sweat later, I still didn’t have the thing started. The sisters had exited the vehicle and were pacing, while Chura sat in the passenger’s seat watching me intently.

In a mocking tone, Chethra said, “I’ve taken care of my end, the transportation.”

“That’s enough,” Danetta said.

Chura chimed in. “Mom, give him a break.” She turned to me and whispered, “Falcon, you’ve done this before, right?”

“Well, Theo showed me how once, and it was on a much different type of vehicle.” Why did I find it easy to confide in a child? “Ummm… how much money did you say we have?”

“$225,000.”

“I can’t believe it. I’m sitting on that much cash in 1970 and here I am busting my ass to start a Jeep. Here goes.” I put my foot on the accelerator and pushed, then crossed the wires.

The engine rumbled to life. I gave the gas pedal a few pumps to make sure I had Chethra’s attention. That woman made me want to be a petty man.

“That sweeps!” Chura shouted.

The others climbed back in and I drove us down the narrow, winding dirt road. My display’s guidance system didn’t work without the proper satellites in orbit. Instead, I relied on the primitive compass mounted on the Jeep’s dash.

We passed a small, one-room church and a smattering of rundown houses. Some of the structures looked like a moderate wind would topple them. A few featured a red flag, with dark blue stripes forming an X filled with white stars.

“Oh, no, this is not good. I should have thought of this.”

“What is it, Aunt Danetta?”

“You know that flag we’ve been seeing?”

We all answered with a variety of affirmatives.

“Well, that’s a flag used by the Confederates in the U.S. Civil War.”

“That was, what, a hundred years ago?” Chethra asked.

“Sure, but people tucked up in these mountains might not like us much. To them, we’ll look like what they call black people.”

“But everyboy in the world looks like us,” Chura said.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Whoa. I guess I never realized just how far back we jumped,” Chura said.

This wasn’t a fun new wrinkle. Unless the locals were blinded by the color green on the cash, ours might be a cause with a helpless champion. I downshifted the Jeep as we started a steep descent. “A dog without teeth,” I said.

“What?” the ladies asked, almost in unison.

(continue on to Part 12)