“Okay Forrest, let me see if I’ve got this straight. We have time-traveled forty-nine years into the past. We are now, supposedly, in the year 1963. Let me see if I’ve got this right: you’ve got me in a frozen, snow covered, dilapidated barn, sitting in a truck that is probably a reject from the 1950s, freezing my butt off, and now you’re saying you don’t know what ‘The Plan’ is? Is this about right?”
“Now Sis don’t get upset! It’ll come to me, it always does. Just give me a minute to think... all I’ve been doing is talking to you.” For the next few minutes, Forrest sat thinking. Olive Maria went to the barn door to check the weather conditions.
Getting back into the truck, “Okay Forrest – I’ve got good news and bad.”
“Dog gone it Sis, you know I hate those good and bad news things. Okay, I’ll play along, give me the bad news first.”
“It is snowing, and snowing real hard... there must be four or five inches of snow on the ground now, and it seems to have gotten a lot colder.”
“Okay, now give me the good.”
“The good Forrest is, I have a plan. I know it’s not ‘The Plan’, but at least it is ‘a plan’.”
Olive Marie sat there in the old Ford and outlined a series of clandestine operations she thought might work. She actually came up with some things Forrest had not even thought about. Yes, his Sis, little Olive Marie... (let’s be honest he didn’t have anything). Her first comment concerned the weather. She correctly explained the frivolity of sitting in this old barn all night and patiently waiting until 12:30 tomorrow afternoon. Her concern was the temperature was dropping, and they probably would run out of gas long before seeing the hatch open again. If they ran out of gas they were going to be in deep do-do, and not the cow kind piled in and around this old barn. The worst part: they probably would freeze to death before anyone ever found them. They couldn’t walk in this blizzard; so she purposed Forrest drive the truck to Clem and Penelope’s Ponderosa before the snow could get any deeper.
“Drive! Drive!” Forrest had to come clean. “Sis, I have to admit I am embarrassed – I don’t know how to drive this thing!”
“It’s okay Forrest, I knew you didn’t... let me think...”
Olive Marie had another idea. She said, if Forrest would let her, she believed she could figure out how to drive the truck. She reemphasized she had watched her boyfriend drive his Mustang, and knew she could drive this ole Ford.
Before he had a chance to protest she continued, “We knock on Clem and Penelope’s door and seek refuge from the storm. Grandpa has explained how warmhearted the two of them are so getting them to invite us to stay overnight will probably not be too hard.” For her plan to work she asked if Forrest knew, without his notes in Pegasus, where Clint Murdock lived?
He explained he had memorized the directions to the Murdock estate by listening to Ms. Holmes talk. He said it was located on the north side of Dallas at 45 Ash Hill Lane. Ash Hill is just off Hwy 279 about forty miles from their present position in Celina, Texas (assuming they were actually near Celina).
“Forrest,” said Olive Marie. “Grandpa said Clem was a part-time limo driver, and Penelope was a waitress. They must have uniforms! If we had those uniforms you could pose as a chauffeur and I could pretend to be a maid, we could go to the estate, snoop around the grounds and watch who comes and goes. I might even get close enough to hear some of the conversation from the meeting room.”
“No! No, Olive Marie! That is far too dangerous. The people who would kill the President of the United States would not hesitate to murder us if we got caught. I cannot allow you to be put into such a perilous situation.”
“Oh, come on Forrest, don’t be such a wimp, we can do it!”
Forrest had to admit he didn’t have anything better, so he reluctantly agreed. If they were going to find better shelter from this snowstorm, they had to leave this barn. That left two choices: they could walk (that was out of the question), or they could drive this old Ford truck (driving was almost as dire). Given the two options, the only one viable was to drive the truck.
“Sis, okay your plan has merit, I admit, but I’m worried about you and this truck.”
“Forrest, I’m going to turn off the ignition key, you are going to get out, open the barn door, and I am going to slide over under the wheel. I noticed on top of the gearshift is a diagram with an ‘R’, a ‘1’, a ‘2’ and a ‘3’. Those obviously are the gear positions - I know I have seen Charles push in the clutch and shift into first gear when he stops at a red light. Using logic, we must start in Number ‘1’. Jump out and get the barn door open. Forrest, trust me, I’ve got this baby under control.”
Opening the door, Forrest kept thinking, this is crazy; Sis couldn’t drive this truck on a sunny day in July. Now here we are in a blinding snowstorm, miles from who knows where, and she doesn’t even have a road to drive on. After opening the barn door, he noticed a narrow trail leading from the barn. It meandered across the pasture toward the outline of a big grove of trees about a quarter of a mile away toward the east. The weeds and grass that had flourished in the hot Texas summer by the trails edge now lay wilted and dead outlining its path perfectly. If Olive could get this old truck moving, and follow this meager path in the pasture they just might get out of there alive. Maybe a ‘real’ road would be just beyond the trees...
INTO THE BLIZZARD
Olive, with her hands gripping the steering wheel and her foot firmly pushing in on the clutch pedal, instructed Forrest to slowly turn the ignition key. The little V-8 Ford engine came to life with a roar. She tapped the accelerator a time or two just to get the feel of it. Once her nervousness had subsided she turned to him and nodded her head. They were ready! She indicated she was going to shift the ‘stick’ into first gear. This she accomplished flawlessly. Now for the big test - she began to release the clutch pedal out slowly - the truck moved! It actually moved. She gave it a bit of gas and through the open door of the barn the old truck rolled.
“Sis don’t stop,” Forrest cautioned her, keep moving, and just follow the outline of the trail in the snow.”
Out into the snow they ventured and was it ever snowing! It was coming down so hard, within seconds it had started to pile up on the windshield.
“Forrest, do something, turn on the windshield wipers, I can’t see.”
Frantically, he searched the dash. There it was. He turned the knob and the wipers began to work. While he was searching for the switch, he noticed a position on the heater control labeled ‘DEF’, quickly he deduced ‘Defrost’ and he shifted the control into the ‘DEF’ position and noticed heat began blowing directly onto the lower section of the windshield. “Just stay on the trail Sis.” Surprisingly, the four-wheel drive truck was moving through the five inches of snow quite well. Leaving the pasture they made a right turn onto a more substantial road. Forrest remembered his Grandpa had said Clem and Penelope’s house was just a few miles down this Texas Farm to Market Road Number 604. He cautioned Olive Marie to keep her hands on the wheel, and he would look for the turnoff to the Ponderosa. Fortunately, Olive Marie had the truck in first gear since the snow had gotten so deep, shifting into a higher gear would have been impossible, even if she had known how to do it. They were cruising along at a snail’s pace of five miles per hour, but they were at least moving.
“Sis, ahead on the right, I see the road.”
Thankfully, he said to himself. He had begun to get worried. They had been driving for over an hour, and daylight on this snowy day was beginning to fade into the dark gray, dimness of the evening. Darkness was not going to be too far behind. Forrest believed it would be suicide to try to drive in this raging blizzard after the sun went down and night was upon them.
A couple of miles from the main road, as their truck rounded a bend in the road he caught a glimpse of the Ponderosa through a small grove of leafless, hardwood trees, cedars and a majestic red oak situated in the very middle. It was as beautiful as their grandfather had de
scribed. What a serene picture - the house covered in snow; the evergreens planted all around; branches heavily laden with snow; their green branches added contrast to the stark whiteness of the raging blizzard. It was a Norman Rockwell painting.
Standing on Clem’s porch Forrest used one hand to shelter his face from the biting snow driven wind, with the other he knocked on the door. From inside they could hear the bark of a dog and footsteps approaching the door, “I’m sorry,” Forrest said as Clem cracked opened the door a few inches, “We do not mean to bother you, but we have gotten caught in this storm, and it is getting dark. I’m afraid we are lost. Could you be so kind as to point us in the right direction?” Standing beside Clem was the beautiful dog Grandpa had spoken of. He was correct – she was a gorgeous, sable and white, miniature dog. Forrest knew Lady was her name.
“Lands sake, you two - git yerselfs in this house, y’all goin’ to freeze to death,” Clem said motioning them inside. “Take off them thar snow covered coats and set yerselfs down in front of this here farplace and git warm. Penelope fetch these folks some hot chocolate. They need their innards warmed.” Clem opened the hall closet and hung their coats on a couple of wire hangers. The chauffeur’s uniform, waitress dress and apron hanging in the closet did not go without Forrest’s notice either.
Returning from the kitchen Penelope handed two large cup of steaming hot chocolate to both Olive Marie and Forrest, “Goodness gracious folks what in the world were y’all doing out on sech a night.”
“We just got turned around in the storm and got on the wrong road, I guess. I’m sure glad we turned down the road to your house. We thank you for the chocolate. It sure is good.”
Olive Marie added, “We just came from up the road apiece, and now that we know where we are, and you have given us something to warm us up, we need to be getting on and stop bothering you folks.”
“Well now you just hush you mouth gal! You two ain’t goin’ back out into that thar snow storm tonight. Yer staying right here with us, if’n that be all right with y’all.”
“Thank you ma’am that’s real hospitable of you.”
“Oh, ain’t nothin’, now you two git yerself warmed, and we’ll set another couple of plates on the table. I got a big pot of hot beef stew in yonder on the stove. Y’all look like you could stand a good, hot meal. Me and Clem wuz jest gettin’ ready to et supper.”
“Yes ma’am, we haven’t, I mean we ‘ain’t’ had nothing to eat in a while.”
“Okay, first my name ain’t ma’am it’s Penelope and this here is my brother Clem. We’s Clem and Penelope Ruby, and the dog over yonder is...”
“Lady...,” Forrest blurted out before thinking.
“Say!! How’ed you know her name?”
“Oh,” stammering to find a suitable answer, “well... well,” finally a response came to him, “she is... she is such an elegant looking dog, I cannot see any reason why she could be named anything else.”
“Yeah, your right, I wuz goin’ call her ‘Girl’ but somehows the name ‘Lady’ just popped into my head one day.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Forrest said. “This is my sister Olive Marie, and I am Robert Scarburg but they call me Forrest.”
“Robert Scarburg... Robert Scarburg...hmmm... now whar have I heered that name afore? Robert Scarburg... jest can’t seem to put my finger on it jest now, but it’ll come to me.”
Most of the night the wind whistled and roared around the corners and eaves of the house as the Texas blizzard continued. Around four in the morning, it seemed the howling was not dying down; the storm was far from over. Forrest slipped from his room and quietly tiptoed down the hallway to Olive Marie’s room. He grasped the doorknob as slowly as possible and turned it just barely enough to open the door. He hoped Clem’s door hinges were well oiled and would not squeak. Thankfully, the door made no noise. Entering Olive’s bedroom he saw she was still fast asleep. Snuggled up warm and toasty in one of Penelope’s homemade comforters. Silently he crept across the room to the edge of Olive’s bed. “Sis, sis,” he said in a soft whisper. “Sis,” he spoke again and gently shook her on the shoulder.
“Huh...? Huh...? Is that you Forrest?”
“Yes, get up, but be quite. The storm is not letting up, but we need to get going.”
“Why so early Forrest? What time is it anyway?”
“Don’t worry about the time, it’s early, real early, but I checked out the clothes closet where Clem hung up our clothes when we first arrived. Clem’s limo driver’s uniform and Penelope’s waitress outfit are both hanging in that hall closet. If we can ‘borrow’ their clothes, and get out of here and into the truck without waking Clem and Penelope, the first step of your plan will begin.”
“But Forrest, I hate to steal from Clem and Penelope, they have been good to us, and they helped Grandpa too.”
“I know Sis, me too, but we’re not stealing, just borrowing. On the way back from our mission, we’ll stop, apologize and return their uniforms. How does that sound? Just get dressed we need to get going. It’s a long way to the Murdock place.”
“I just hope we are alive and able to come back!”
The first couple of steps from the bedroom out into the hall produced a slight squeaking of the boards on the floor. The sound was ever so slight, but to Forrest it sounded as though the boards were being torn from the floor. Surely Clem or Penelope heard that! Calm yourself, thought Forrest, it wasn’t that loud. Calm! Calm! The cold, north wind was still whistling outside, so he reasoned Clem or Penelope, hopefully, had not heard their footsteps; however, they were right outside Clem’s bedroom and Forrest knew one step on a loose board could cause Clem to spring out into the hall at any moment. He also knew Texans owned guns, and they were not afraid to use them. Stepping as softly as humanly possible the two of them tiptoeing slowly down the hall toward the closet. Before reaching the closet door, Forrest noticed a note pad and pencil lying on a small hall table. He hastily wrote Clem and Penelope a note:
Clem and Penelope,
Sorry we had to leave early - we have an appointment - thanks for everything - will stop next time through and talk again.
Forrest and Olive Marie Scarburg.
P.S. I had to borrow your chauffeur’s uniform and Penelope’s waitress outfit, we will return them, if possible, if not I left you some money.
P.P.S. If people come looking for us, please tell them Olive Marie and I went to the Murdock place. They will understand.
Reaching into his wallet, he removed two ten-dollar bills and placed the money and the note on the table. Glancing into the living room, he could see Lady lying curled up, sleeping warmly in front of the fireplace. Please Lady, he thought, please do not wake up; however, they were not to be that lucky.
Lady raised her head, looked at the two, and as if she were aware of their plans, placed her head back down on the floor without as much as a whimper, and returned to sleep.
The time was 4:30 a.m., Thursday, November 21, 1963.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“THEY FLEW IT OUT”
“Bob...! Bob...! Wake up, the phone’s ringing,” Baba sleepily moaned pulling the pillow over her head, “it will be for you, so you might as well answer it.”
“What,” he groggily answered. “What time is it?” Looking as his alarm clock on the bedside table, “Four-forty, who could be calling at this ungodly hour?” Picking up the phone, “Yeah, Scarburg here... What...? Say again...? When...? I’ll be right in,” the Captain answered, jumping out of bed and switching on the bedside lamp.
Removing her head from underneath the pillow Baba questioned, “What in the world is the matter Robert?”
“It’s Pegasus – Pegasus!”
“Well, tell me something! Has something happened to Pegasus?”
Hurriedly, trying to put on his clothes, he answered, “Happened! Happened! By-ned, someone has Pegasus.”
“Gracious Robert, I know someone has Pegasus. You all have it in your basement labor
atory at SCAR headquarters.”
“No, no! Not SCAR, someone ELSE has Pegasus. HAS like in someone has STOLEN Pegasus!!
“Robert are you still asleep? No one can steal your precious Pegasus thing-a-ma-jig. How could they get your big machine up that narrow elevator shaft?”
“They FLEW it out!! Do you hear me woman, FLEW it out, someone STOLE my Pegasus!!” As the Captain finished dressing, he explained to Baba how the lab’s security system emits a blaring, ear splitting, siren sound throughout the entire building when the time-traveling machine is moved the tiniest bit without authority. Obviously, it has been moved more than a tiny bit he emphasized, it was GONE. The guard on duty at the entrance door was calling Captain Scarburg per SCAR’s Security Procedures. In fact, the Captain could still hear the alarms blaring in the background as he spoke to the guard on the phone.
Grabbing his keys he ran out the door to his car. Over and over he played different scenarios through his mind driving back to SCAR headquarters. His first thought was Ryan Rousseau. It had to be an inside job – entry to the lab level was by authorized personnel only, and no one but personnel in the laboratory would have enough expertise to energize and program the craft’s computer for flight. Number one priority was to find the whereabouts of Rousseau, and, oh yeah, he thought, don’t forget Mike Watkins. What was he thinking? No, not Mike, if he wanted to sabotage his Dallas flight, he would not have gone to all the trouble to design the on board communication system using the Tachyons. He knew it was not Mike; he had always done a superb job and the Captain considered him a trustworthy friend.
Now, Ryan Rousseau, there’s another story, the Captain thought. After the screw-up on my flight, I just do not trust that s.o.b. If it had not been for Clem Ruby, I would still be sitting in 1963 Texas, or some other God-forsaken place in the world, and in who knows what century! I just hope it is Rousseau. I’d like to see him get what’s coming to him! But where did he send Pegasus? And why? Was he trying to keep us from finding out something in Dallas?
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