A Ranger's Time

by Edward Gates

  Russell nodded and kept silent while Charlie began sorting through the saddle bags.

  “Where will you go? What will you do?” Russell finally asked.

  “I’m thinking of going to see an old friend in Trinidad,” Charlie said. “But that don’t concern you. You won’t be here.”

  “But Charlie, what about your name? Who will you be now?”

  “Name don’t matter. I’ll figure something out.”

  Russell didn’t know what to say about this. The two sat silently across the table from each other, both holding on to their respective wounds.

  “We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Charlie said. Russell just smiled.

  It was time, and they both knew it.

  26

  Going Home

  Russell listened intently as Charlie explained the workings of the time belt. Since this would be the first time he wore it, the system would need to reset the genetic-to-energy calculations. Russell would need to keep his finger on the sensor screen until the processor began the countdown. Charlie further explained that he had already set the coordinates for the target and Russell wouldn’t have to touch a thing. Once the counter began, Russell would have five seconds to turn the switch off and stop the jump.

  Russell was a mix of conflicting emotions. He was excited to be going back home, but at the same time, he wanted to stay with Charlie. He had grown fond of this old grizzled lawman.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked. “You say you’re excited, but you don’t look too happy about getting out of here.”

  “I’m a little nervous about going back, Charlie. If people back there are really trying to get rid of me, once they see me, they’ll probably try it again. Maybe the next time they won’t be so subtle about it.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Charlie said and then paused. “Just stay out of sight as long as you can. Find out as much as you can before you contact anyone. Most importantly, when you do contact someone, make sure it’s someone you can trust.”

  “I’m scared. I don’t know how to do any of this ‘sneaking-around’ stuff.”

  “You just fired a shotgun at a guy,” Charlie said. “You’ve never held a firearm in your life. Yet you picked up a gun and shot it. I think you’ll do whatever you need to do. You’ve got it in you. You’ll do fine.” Charlie patted Russell’s shoulder and repeated, “You’ll do fine.” He then stepped back, looked at Russell, and smiled. Then his smile disappeared.

  Russell didn’t like that look. “What’s wrong?”

  “Is that wound still bleeding?”

  “I don’t know. Is that a problem?”

  “If that bandage has your blood on it, the system may think it’s a part of you and try to reattach it permanently during the transformation. You’d better take it off.”

  Russell hadn’t considered the perils of jumping with an open wound. He removed the time belt and unwound the bandage and noticed that most of the swelling and redness had gone. It was replaced with a horrible discoloration from bruising. But it wasn’t bleeding or leaking at all.

  “Looks like it’s healing pretty well,” Russell said.

  Charlie looked at the ugly wound and grimaced. “Well, if you think so, I guess.” After a pause Charlie asked, “You ready?”

  “You mean go now?”

  “Not much sense in delaying it.” Charlie hung his head and mindlessly fingered some of Mac’s items on the table. He raised his head. “Look, when you get back, you’ll need to get to your home right away. It’s very important that you make sure you’re not seen. Understand?”

  “What if I jump into the middle of a group of people?” Russell asked.

  “Well, I tried to find a place out of the way, but close enough to the facility. If people are there, you’re on your own.” Charlie smiled and winked at Russell. “Now when you get to your home, the first thing you need to do is put on a clean fresh modern bandage. Throw your clothes away and go get some real medical help. Tell them you fell on a broken glass or a sharp stick or something.”

  Russell acknowledged all of Charlie’s instructions.

  “Before you go, you have to promise me a couple things,” Charlie said.

  “Sure, what?”

  “First, you have to promise me to keep up with the science and technology. It’s critical that you stay on top of the newest revelations. You’ll eventually understand why.”

  Russell nodded.

  “Next, you have to promise to never come back here, ever! Got it?”

  “Never?”

  “Never!” Charlie emphasized. “And, last, you have to promise to destroy this belt when you get back.”

  Russell shook his head. He didn’t think he could do that. This belt held the keys to everything he dreamed of concerning time travel. He needed to study this belt. He needed to find out everything he could about it. It would advance his research by decades.

  “I … I don’t know, Charlie.”

  “You have to promise,” Charlie demanded. “Time travel ain’t what you think. It’s dangerous. Not only for you or the jumper, but more so for the people and the lives they interact with. There’s no way to measure what harm can be done to future generations just by interacting with the people and events in the past.”

  “You’ve been here a lifetime, Charlie. What harm have you caused?”

  Charlie lowered his head. “Like I said, there’s no way to know. I did my best.” He looked Russell in the eyes. “For thirty years I used that belt to jump forward in time and check the historical records of all the people I came in contact with. I did my best to preserve their history, not to interfere with it. It was why I never owned property or took a wife or had a family. I looked at it as my responsibility, or my sentence, to preserve their history as it was before I got here.”

  “Well what about all the people you arrested or killed over the years?” Russell asked.

  “I tried to check on them all. If I knew I was going out after someone, I looked up the people I was going after,” Charlie explained. “I found out their fate in the historical records before I left. I did everything I could to fulfill their fate. Usually, if there were more than one of us, I tried to let the other Rangers take action. If there was a gun battle, I shot wild so my bullets weren’t the ones that killed anyone. There were some times, however, when I didn’t have a choice. I had to hope for the best.” Charlie lowered his head again. It was obvious to Russell that Charlie was thinking of some of those past times.

  “Like the gun battle at Walker’s ranch?” Russell asked to break the silence.

  Charlie looked at Russell and gave him a nod. “Yeah. Like Walker’s ranch.”

  Satisfied with Charlie’s explanation, Russell stood and turned on the switch. A tiny red light on the small box lit up. Russell placed his finger on the sensor screen and the tiny red light began to blink. Almost thirty seconds passed when suddenly the blue-green translucent light engulfed him. He saw the display in front of him and watched the counter descend. When the counter reached the number two, Russell turned the switch off. The light disappeared and Russell stood looking at Charlie who had a puzzled look on his face.

  “I wanted to say thanks. You could have killed me or left me out there in the prairie. You didn’t have to take me in, and I wanted to thank you for all you did for me. I won’t ever forget you.” He offered his hand to Charlie who gladly shook it and smiled broadly. They looked at each other in silence, trying to preserve that one last look. Russell knew they would never see each other again. Finally, Charlie grabbed Russell and pulled him close and gave him a slight hug with his left arm, his wounded right arm hanging limp at his side.

  “You’d better go. Remember to close your eyes when the counter reaches one. The flash on the inside is pretty bright,” Charlie instructed.

  Russell turned on the switch and with a smile placed his finger on the screen. The light engulfed him and he watched the counter. When the counter reached one, Russell closed his eyes and in a flash, he was gone.


  A sudden and painful emptiness overtook Charlie and he dropped into the chair. Not only was his new-found companion gone, but so was his only escape. His fate was now sealed. Any return to the future was now impossible.

  Charlie slumped forward, leaning on the table. He felt his eyes moisten. He had become fond of Russell. He thought of him as the son he would never have. But he knew there was no alternative. Russell had a destiny to fulfill that he didn’t know anything about.

  All of the plans he had formulated didn’t seem so important anymore. He looked around at his meager home knowing he would soon be leaving it for good. He looked at the blood-stained pants and Hanna’s husband’s shirt rolled up on the bed.

  “It’s better this way,” Charlie said to himself. “Isn’t it?”

  27

  Disappear

  Charlie wasn’t sure how long he sat at the table blindly staring at Mac’s belongings, as if in another world. All he could think about were the past days he spent with Russell and how much he missed him already. A beam of sunlight shone through the open shutters and reflected off the still lit lantern into his eye, jolting him back to reality. Charlie regained his thoughts. He had a lot to do, and it was going to be more difficult with only one good arm.

  Charlie sorted through Mac’s belongings and tossed the clothes and most of his personal items aside. Then he came across the satchel that contained Abe’s money from the sale of the cattle. Mac must have grabbed it when he found Abe. There was over ten thousand dollars in that bag. He thought about Amos, and Hanna, and Tuck and Doc and how they really could use this money. But he couldn’t risk being seen by anyone. That would thwart his whole escape plan.

  Anything of Mac’s that he felt he could use he put back into Mac’s saddle bags. He left the money bag sitting on the table, not sure what he should do with it. Charlie tried on Mac’s hat. It was a little small, but it was a close enough fit to work for a while. He’d get a new hat later.

  Charlie removed the Deputy City Marshal badge from his vest and pinned it on Mac’s body. Then he hung his old hat on the chair next to his holster and gun.

  Charlie already knew what he needed to take with him and what he was going to leave. His fresh wrapped clean clothes and personal items were packed in a small canvas valise. The food, ammunition, matches, and other items Charlie set aside, he put in both Abe’s and Mac’s saddle bags. He rolled his duster and other camp supplies in his bedroll, and looked around the cabin one more time. That was it, except for the money.

  Charlie set the valise, the bedroll, and the two saddle bags outside the cabin by the old stump and went back in for one last look. From the trunk he retrieved the Texas Ranger Frontier Battalion badge and tucked the badge in his vest pocket. He realized he had no choice about the money. He had to take it with him. As much as he wanted his friends to have it, he knew he couldn’t risk the exposure. He stuck the money bag in his shirt, picked up his Winchester rifle and went back outside.

  Charlie fashioned a sling from another neckerchief and placed it around his damaged right arm. Carrying one item at a time, Charlie got all his gear down and tied onto Mac’s roan. It was almost too much for the roan to carry. “I’ll get you a mule when we get to Tascosa. Help with the load.” He patted the roan’s neck.

  In his final act, Charlie took the can of kerosene he kept for lamp fuel and dumped it all around the inside of the cabin, completely dousing Mac’s body and Russell’s old clothes in the process. He tossed the lantern and globe onto the floor making sure the globe broke. He stood in the open doorway, struck a match, and tossed the lit match into cabin. With a resounding “whoosh”, the inside of the cabin burst into flames. Charlie stepped back and watched for a minute as his history and his life burned away in front of his eyes. He was done. Charlie Turlock no longer existed. He was dead.

  Charlie walked over to Gus and pulled the rail away from the corral entrance. He put his arm around Gus’s neck and held him for one last moment.

  “I know how you hate fire, boy,” Charlie said. “You can leave anytime. Tuck will be by soon to get you. He’ll take good care of you.”

  Charlie turned and walked away staying close to the cabin and the flames. Gus bowed his head and began to follow, but the fire spooked him and he walked away from the cabin in the other direction. Charlie climbed into the saddle on Mac’s horse and rode away towards Tascosa.

  As dark smoke from the cabin fire filled the early morning sky north of Amarillo, Charlie rode a red roan northwest along the rail tracks. The townspeople from Amarillo began riding out to see about the fire.

  The ride on a horse he wasn’t used to was rough on Charlie, especially with only the use of one arm. When he finally crossed the bridge over the Canadian River, he continued through Tascosa and rode out the Dodge City Trail to Doctor J.M. Shelton’s place at the end of McMasters Street. The doctor told Charlie his arm was pretty tore up and that it would be better to take the arm off. Charlie wouldn’t hear of it. So the doctor removed the slug, cleaned the wound the best he could, sewed it up, and bandaged it. He said that there was a lot of muscle and tissue damage and that when it healed, his arm would never be the same. He might get some feeling back in it, but not to expect much.

  Mac was right, Charlie thought, he would be carrying a mark from him for the rest of his life. Charlie walked the roan down Main Street to McCormick’s livery to board him over night. He purchased a burro to take the weight of his packs off the roan. Then he walked two doors down to Jesse Sheet’s North Star restaurant and had a nice big dinner.

  Charlie took a room for the night at the Russell Hotel. He registered as A.J. Campbell, occupation – miner. He asked the clerk for five envelopes and a piece of paper, which he took to his room. Charlie sat at a table in his room watching the sun get lower in the western sky. He took the piece of stationary and wrote a series of numbers on it and placed the paper in an envelope along with his Texas Ranger badge. He sealed the envelope and wrote “HICKS” on the outside of the envelope in large letters. Then he wrote “Ranger’s Office, Amarillo” below the name.

  Charlie pulled the money bag from under his shirt and sorted the cash into five stacks. He put four of the stacks into the four remaining envelopes and addressed one to Doctor Walter Morgan, one to Hanna, one to Amos Cook, and one to Tuck Cornelius. Like the envelope to Hicks, he addressed them to their places of business in Amarillo and set them aside to deliver to the desk clerk for mailing on the next stage.

  The next morning, A.J. Campbell’s room was empty and the roan and the burro were gone from McCormick’s Livery. Two half-eagle coins sat on top of the five envelopes addressed to Amarillo at the clerk’s desk. The latest page in the registration book had been torn out. There was no sign that an A.J. Campbell had ever been there.

  28

  Life After Charlie

  The afternoon edition of The Amarillo Champion announced that long time Texas Ranger Charles Turlock died in a fire in his cabin early that morning.

  The news of Charlie’s demise quickly spread around the town. As with all news spread by word of mouth, rumors of the body, murder, suicide, and the fire were widespread and unchecked. Amarillo was mourning the passing of one of its more familiar and likable citizens.

  Marshal Cook had the grim task of bringing the body down to Doc Morgan’s office. Deputy Johnson remained in town while Marshal Cook and Captain Bill McDonald rode out to Charlie’s cabin along with two other rangers in a wagon. The four lawmen went through the burnt rubble. There wasn’t much left. Almost everything was burnt beyond recognition, including the body. The stove, and some metal dishes and the remnants of his shotgun and handgun were about the only recognizable objects. Marshal Cook couldn’t bring himself to put the body into the wagon. He left that task to the rangers.

  The marshal walked around the burnt shell of the cabin and looked through Gus’s stall. His emotions overwhelmed him. He walked a little into the trees to hide his tears from the others. That’s when he saw Gus a
t the bottom of the hill standing in the stream. He choked back a sob as he climbed down the hill toward Charlie’s horse and took hold of his halter rope. He walked him over to his bay, tied him to his saddle horn.

  He patted Gus on his neck. “We’ll see if Tuck can find a nice place for you.”

  Captain McDonald stood at the top of the hill and shouted down. “We’re heading back to Morgan’s place. You coming along?”

  “I’ll be there in a bit. You go on ahead.” The marshal climbed back up the hill and watched as the wagon carrying what everyone believed to be Charlie’s body, drove off to town with Captain McDonald leading the wagon.

  Marshal Cook kept looking around the scorched ground and the ashes of what used to be Charlie’s cabin. There was a distinct aroma of coal-oil in the air. The scorched and partial remains of the meager furniture and belongings all had the same odor. This whole thing just didn’t seem right to him, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. He had a strange feeling about this. Charlie would have gotten out if it was just a fire, unless he was unable to move. There had to be something else. Something he was missing. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he just didn’t want to believe Charlie was dead. There was something about that body that just didn’t seem right to him, but he couldn’t get past his grief to focus on it. But if it wasn’t Charlie, then whose body was it? And the question that was burning in the marshal’s mind that no one else seemed to be asking was “what happened to Hicks?”

  That afternoon, after dropping Gus off at Tuck’s livery, the marshal delivered the sad news to Hanna. The initial shock caused her to faint into his arms. He set her in a chair and revived her with some cold water. The two sat side-by-side at a table while the marshal held her. She wept uncontrollably for quite a while. After her crying subsided, Marshal Cook released his hold on her and patted her shoulder.