“So that’s why you’re in such a gall-durn hurry to get to Dallas - you want to save the President, right?”
“Sorry... no you’re wrong Clem. I hate to say this, but... uh... uh... I want to make sure he gets killed!!”
“What? Not killed? You mean to say saved, right?”
“No, I’m sorry, but the word was... killed!”
“Why John, that is un-American!! You can’t be serrius? You aint one of them Communist, er you John?”
Captain Scarburg tried to explain how history got off on the wrong track when the assassin’s bullet only wounded President Kennedy. He explained how the time and space continuum had to be set straight. He talked about the Parallel Universes, Einstein, time and space. He explained the Viruchi War, the millions of people killed, the nuking of Saigon and Moscow. He tried to explain how appalling the world of the 21st century had become. Then he told them by allowing President Kennedy to die how all this savagery would change to a more civilized, yeah, that’s the word, civilized future. Not much of this information soaked in to the un-educated heads of Clem and Penelope. All they understood was the name President and the name Kennedy and the getting killed part.
“Okay, let me try to put this to you both another way. President Kennedy is not supposed to survive the attempt on his life. Things in 2012 will just work out wrong if he survives - we were propelled into the wrong universe at the instant the assassination failed. Yeah, I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m just telling you as it is.
“John, me and Penelope have been sittin’ here listenin’ to you fer hours... what I wants to know is..., I mean I gots to know this one thang... would ye, please tell me this - cause I’m gonna bust if’en I don’t know...”
John’s mind was racing - was Clem wanting more information about the type of people who lived in 2012? What is the 21st century like? Who was the President? What kinds of food were people eating? Did we still have television? What was a computer? Not one of these questions was on Clem or Penelope’s mind. Picking up the Iphone Clem wanted to know what the square, shiny, black “me-phone” did. “And...”
Before Clem could finish his next question, the Captain cut him off, “Clem, it’s an Iphone, not a me-phone. We refer to them as ‘cell phones’ or ‘smart phones’. ‘I’, like I said earlier, it just stands for ‘Internet’ and don’t even ask I don’t believe I could explain Internet or what ‘cell phone’ means either. Even if I wanted too.”
As the Captain was trying to explain the Iphone, Clem inadvertently pushed the ‘Home’ button at the bottom of the Iphone and the screen lit up covered with Apple Apps.
“Whoa! What did I do John? Did I break this thang?”
Taking the phone Captain Scarburg touched an App on the screen and selected the tune ‘All My Ex’s Live in Texas’. “Here’s a nifty song you both might like,” he said touching the Iphone screen again. The lyrics and melody of George Strait’s number one country hit from 1987 began softly to play. George began singing:
♪All my Ex’s live in Texas and Texas...♪
“What the... wher’d that music come from?” Clem and Penelope just sat there, mouths agape, starring at each other. “How’d you git a phonnygraph small enuf to poke it into that there dinky, black gadget your, uh...uh...iphony.”
“I’m not going there Clem, just believe your ears and just say it works! Here, let me quickly show you something else,” the Captain said as he turned the Iphone around and tapped the ‘Camera’ App and began recording both Clem and Penelope. “Hey, both of you. Look this way and say cheese.”
Startled, “Say what?” Replied Clem.
Captain Scarburg recorded for a few seconds then turned the Iphone around so Clem and Penelope could see the screen. “Watch this.”
Instantly the screen changed. As if by magic there in glorious color sat his two hosts.
From the Iphone, “Hey, both of you. Look this way and say cheese.”
“Say what?”
“Well dadburn, ain’t that somethin?”
“Oh, here’s something else I want to show you,” he said tapping the small, square Photo App. “Here is some of my 2012 world.” For the next few minutes, he showed Clem and Penelope photos of a world nearly fifty years in their future accompanied with music!” Pictures of his family, co-workers, vacations spots and even a picture of Pegasus were shown. Amazed is not nearly a powerful enough word to describe the two sitting on the sofa taking in this entirely magical world, but he also showed them pictures of the devastation of the aftermaths of the numerous wars, the people dying of starvation and even a picture of grandson Bud’s tombstone in the unkempt Arlington National Cemetery that had been overgrown with vines and weeds. The Captain explained America had been at war for so long it had no time or money to properly maintain its national cemeteries or even its national monuments around Washington. Most all had fallen into a state of neglect and disrepair.
Before Captain Scarburg finished showing them his photos from the 21st century, Penelope requested the Captain backup and let her see one of the pictures again. It was a snapshot of Lonnie Joe standing in the Egyptian desert wearing his green Special Forces t-shirt. “Which man is that one?” Asked Penelope.
“Penelope, that is Dr. Lonnie Joe Wheeler. One of the best men I have ever worked along side. He was a Special Forces captain in Operation Desert Storm. Oh yeah, forgot - it was another war the United States gets involved in during the 1990s. I recruited him after he was discharged, and he has been with us at SCAR ever since.”
“Hes purty… is he married? Did he come with you on your trip?”
“Sorry Penelope, he did not come with me, but the good news is: no, he is not married.”
The hour was getting late, and the Captain had decided enough examples of his 2012 life had been demonstrated to convince Clem he was indeed a time-traveler. Not only was he assured Clem was a decent and trustworthy man, but he also believed Clem would be willing to help him accomplish his mission in Dallas the next morning.
“Clem, I have shown you my future... the future I just recently came from. What I have told you and Penelope is the truth. The future, as it stands today, is bleak. What I need now is your help to change what my future should be. And, by the way, my future will someday be your future as well.”
“Shore John I seed all them pictures, that world is terrible, I’ll help. I wont to help change it. What can I do?”
“Not so fast Clem - before you agree you need to know all the facts. First, President Kennedy will be wounded Friday at exactly 12:30 if we do not intercede. If he lives, the world of 2012 I described and have just shown you will occur; however, it can be changed if I can prevent the assassin on the southwest corner of the Texas School Book Depository from shooting the President. If I succeed that will allow another man located on the sixth floor, of the same building, to shoot the President and wound Governor Connally...”
“Whoa, John you sayin’ our Texas governeer is goin’ to git shot too...?
“Yeah, he will be injured either way - if the assassin on the roof shoots or even if I can someway distract him, Governor Connally will be wounded regardless, but I believe we can stop the shooter on the roof - that’s not what is worrying me. Since I met you two, I believe you two are kind and decent people, but your lives will be forever changed after Friday.”
“Talk to us in English John - what’s likely to happen to us?”
“Clem, nothing will physically happen to you both - but your lives will never be the same - trust me.”
“Straight talk John, give us the truth.”
“Okay, after I take out the shooter on the roof this will allow his partner on the sixth floor to fire a couple of more shots with a surplus Italian rifle, a 6.5 mm Carcano. He will flee from the building and travel southwest into a surrounding neighborhood where he has an apartment. As he leaves his apartment, he will be detained by a police officer. This man will shoot and kill the police officer whose name is J. D. Tippit. Then he will
hurry up West Jefferson Boulevard and enter the Texas movie theater where the police will find and arrest him. He will be carried to the Dallas City Jail. This coming Sunday, November 24th at 11:21 a.m., before live television cameras he will be shot and killed in the basement of Dallas Police headquarters as the police are attempting to move him to a different jail.”
“Who is this man John? The man who kills the President and the policeman?”
“Clem, Penelope this man is not the person who will bring danger to you both - history in the 21st century will state the man who assassinated President John F. Kennedy from the roof of the Texas School Book Depository on Friday the 22nd of November goes by the name of – Lee Harvey Oswald.
“Well heck John we don’t know no Lee Harvey Oswall person.”
“His name is Oswald, with a ‘D’ not Oswall with an ‘L’ but it’s not him that will affect your lives. Your trouble will come from the man who shoots Lee Harvey Oswald. Remember I said someone will kill Oswald Sunday morning in the basement of the Dallas Police Headquarters. You do, for a fact, know the man doing the shooting...”
“Who, who John? Who is that man we know?”
“That person is... is... ‘Sparky’... your uncle – Jack Ruby”
“No John... you must be jesting. Sparky ain’t never hurt nobody. He ain’t got the nerve.”
“You may be right about nerves, but this coming Sunday, November the 24th, the world will watch the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald by your Uncle Jack Ruby on live, nationwide TV. He’ll have the nerve for this one escapade. I am expected to be long gone. In fact, if all goes well Sunday I will be back home watching the Tennessee Titans play the Seattle Seahawks... right... don’t ask Clem... I don’t believe I have the breath to explain NFL expansion teams to you. But just remember, this coming Sunday, just four days from now on November 24th, millions will see your Uncle Jack Ruby shoot and kill Lee Harvey Oswald. By the way if you want to make yourself some easy money, next weekend on Saturday November 30th Alabama will play Auburn in the Iron Bowl at Legion Field in Birmingham. Auburn will win the game 10 to 8.”
Clem said directing his request to his sister, “Penelope write down the names of that there ball game and the score on a slip of paper and put it in your valuables box there on the mantle of the farplace.”
“Clem, if you ever want to bet on a sure thing put all your money on this game, but remember stay glued to your television this Sunday and you can see your Uncle Jack shoot Oswald for yourselves.
“Now this is information you have to know. If there is any doubt in your mind about your Uncle, stay out of this Clem. But if you decide to help me just remember what I said: if there ever were a secret you two must keep this one must be on the top of your list. The government will turn over every rock looking for anyone and everyone having anything to do with the Kennedy assassination and Lee Harvey Oswald and his killer your Uncle Sparky. You know it’s not every day a president gets killed. The good thing is you will only have to avoid talking to the police for about twelve hours after I leave. Never mind, I’ll explain it to you later.”
“John, I’m in - this is the most excitin’ thang to ever happen to me. I wouldn’t miss it for nothin’. What’s our game plan?”
“First, Clem do you have another vehicle besides your truck. I know your truck is great, but it’s very loud without its muffler. That might cause us to draw too much attention.”
“Yeah, John, me and Penelope have a Sunday-go-to-meetin’ car. It’s a grey Nash Rambler station wagon parked out yonder in the shed next to the chicken coop.”
“Great Clem, perfect. Okay, here’s my plan, and since I landed forty miles from my rooftop I have to improvise this as I go along. To begin, I want to drive to Dallas to your Uncle Jack Ruby’s place. I’d like to meet him, and since he’s your Uncle I believe it will be easy to accomplish. I understand the Carousel Club has some rooms Uncle Jack uses for ‘special guests’ I bet you can talk him into letting us have the use of one of them tomorrow night.
“Around 12:15 p.m. Friday morning I want you and I to drive your Nash Rambler from Uncle Jack’s Club over to Main Street, turn right onto Houston and go north past the Texas School Book Depository Building.
“Oh, by the way, Clem do you have an overcoat?”
“Sure do John, got me a purty tan one hangin’ right there in that there closet,” Clem said, pointing to the hallway coat closet with his index finger.
“Good, if you will allow, I want to borrow it, and I will get out of the car at the back of the School Book building. You continue to drive north on Houston, circle back around to Main Street and park around the corner from Dealy Plaza. Make sure you park on the right side of Main heading west. Once the parade passes you fall in a few cars behind the last motorcycle escorts and follow them into Dealy Plaza. I will make my way to the roof of the Book building using the rear fire escape and conceal myself behind one of the large air-conditioning units.
“At exactly 12:30, I will jump the shooter on the roof and distract him long enough so Lee Harvey Oswald on the sixth floor, of the same building, can make his rifle shot strike the President. I’ll have to play it by ear from there. If I can get down the fire escape safely, I will meet you in front of the Grassy Knoll on the west end of the School Building. Just drive by slowly and I will jump into your car. We will then head back out of Dallas and return to the Ponderosa. I believe if all goes well there will be so much excitement in and around Dealy Plaza they will never pay any attention to us. Does this sound like a good plan?”
“Well John - that’s a plan all right. Is it good? I shore don’t know, I guess we’ll jest find out tomarrer and the next day. What if the assasser man kills you?”
“Nah, I wouldn’t show up in 2012 if that happened. Of course, I could be shot and injured - it’s just a mystery I really don’t know what’s going to transpire, but I know I must not fail. I am only going to get one chance - I’ve got to make it good. One thing is for sure - it is possible I can succeed, and it is also very possible my attempt will fail. Even in the 21st century I only know of one outcome - the one of failure and the President lives. This is the whole point - you and I are trying to change the outcome, so the future will be a much better place than the one I just left.”
“John, I don’t understand all about them other Universe thangs, but if you git kilt couldn’t that Universe continue on and still be the road you showed me and Penelope on that black picture tellephone?”
“Dad-burn Clem, why did you have to throw reason into my argument? Now I am really worried.”
The time was 10:38:30 p.m. Wednesday, November 20, 1963.
Chapter Fourteen
UNCLE JACK RUBY
The next morning, Thursday the 21st of November, the sky was overcast and blustery. The two men walked to the shed behind the Ponderosa and backed the Nash Rambler station wagon out of its parking place.
The Captain took another photo.
Pulling the car keys from his pocket Clem asked, “John,” he said jingling the key ring, “you want’ta drive?”
“Love to Clem, but this time shift has messed with my eyesight, remember I’m color blind. Couldn’t tell which color was red or green on a stoplight. Sorry but I guess you’ll have to do the honors Clem.”
They had plenty of time today - their only mission was to get to Uncle Jack’s club in downtown Dallas and they had all day to get there. Traveling down the road from Clem’s place to the main highway John looked over at Clem, “Nervous?”
“Naw,” replied Clem sheepishly. “Well, maybe a bit.”
The time was 9:35 a.m. Thursday, November 21, 1963.
The Ponderosa was situated a few miles northwest of Celina, Texas. Celina was forty-two miles as the crow flies, north of Dallas. Down the muddy road, they churned until they reached Texas Highway 289. Turning right, they headed south. Driving south on Highway 289, they intersected with US 380. Highway 380 would lead them to the Dallas Parkway, according to Clem; the Parkway would ca
rry them into downtown Dallas. He was right. They arrived in Dallas less than two hours after beginning their trip. One more turn and they would be on Commerce Street.
The time was 11:15 a.m., Thursday, November 21, 1963.
“Clem keep your eyes peeled, the address of the Carousel Club is 1312 ½. That should be on our right.”
“I wished I’d remember where Uncle Jack’s club is John, but it’s been a long time since I come down here.”
“That’s okay Clem, we’ll find it in a minute or two.”
Less than a five-minute drive down Commerce they found Jack Ruby’s place. The Carousel was a dump with no on street parking, but a parking deck entrance was next to the club, “Turn in here,” the Captain said, pointing with his finger. Surveying the front of the Carousel as they turned off the street into the garage Captain Scarburg’s only thought was, honky-tonk... a dive, and the actual Club is on the second floor! The ground floor was occupied by a greasy spoon, hole-in-the-wall BBQ cafe. A huge sign over their front glass announced for all to see: “Burlesque, Girls, Girls”.
Ruby’s place must undoubtedly be a real dump.
Thinking out loud Captain Scarburg said, “Now I know why he’s got those extra ‘special guest’ rooms in his club!” It was time for another Iphone photo.
Grabbing the front door handle of the Carousel Captain Scarburg could feel the cold handle on his fingers. Cold, cold as the ice water running through Jack Ruby’s veins, he thought. Remembering back to the Visiondome’s alternate future Anhur had shown him in his office, the Captain knew Jack Ruby would murder Lee Harvey Oswald in cold blood in the basement of the Dallas police station Sunday morning at 11:31 a.m. Before releasing his grip on the doorknob, he glanced to his right and noticed the round, blue, neon clock hanging in the BBQ’s window. A chill ran up Grandpa’s spine - the clock’s time was the precise minute when Ruby will murder Oswald Sunday morning.
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