Strange Encounters

by Jean Pamplin

  Her eyes glistened and any angry ice broke with a spring thaw. “Bud.” His name. That’s all that came out, yet the spoken emotion of that single word said volumes.

  “I’m glad I danced with you at the Speakeasy party.” A whisper. That’s all he could manage.

  “Oh, Bud. I am so very glad too. “She strode closer and wrapped her arms around him.

  ***

  Sally faced the mirror and pulled the skin down from beneath her blood-shot eyes. The dream had been horrific. She wasn’t even in the mood for prayer—bad sign.

  A half hour later, several depleted bottles of concealer and conditioner in the trash, she had the dark shadows controlled and felt somewhat able to face the day.

  The feeling of mass panic in the more-than-real nightmare hung with her. Would the asteroid actually hit earth? In her dream, it had. People were like ants trying to dodge a beach ball. Not possible.

  If it was the Wormwood of Revelation, the fight between God and Satan might well include such an asteroid. Sally had already chosen sides. No matter what happened, she felt sure of her salvation and her relationship with Christ. And it seemed that even Bud had chosen. Now, what to do?

  On the way to work, she took a chance Brother Joseph would be at the church.

  “Come in, Dr. Strange.”

  “Pastor, I’m sorry to bother you, but I had some Wormwood questions. I’m hoping you can clear the bitter waters, so to speak.”

  “There is no substitute for the Lord’s personal answer to you. If you are asking my opinion, I believe the Wormwood of Revelation—which means bitter, by the way—could mean a lot of other things besides taste. It could refer to the bitterness of famine. I know some people think the end times will zoom in like an asteroid, and maybe so. The Book of Enoch documents that angels guard the stars to keep them in place. If God allows one to be set loose, He has a reason. If He allows famine, and we are paying attention, He will provide a safe haven for His people. He always has.”

  Joseph seemed to sense her distress and continued to talk.

  “Think of it this way. God wants to save people. Satan wants to destroy us, but scripture says we have an advocate and hope in Jesus. Earth being completely obliterated by an asteroid hardly allows any of us much time for repentance. In suffering, however, there are always opportunities to be refined like silver.”

  The conversation took longer than Sally intended. Not that she was bent on suffering, but she was somewhat mollified that an asteroid would not take out the whole planet. After a comforting prayer with the pastor, she set her focus more firmly on Jesus.

  If A.G. showed up, and he knew of something that might be done, she’d help. Meanwhile, given the fact the guy was a product of the ’40s and enlightened thinking, she had no trouble believing he had found a way to time travel. By accident, perhaps, but God had a habit of using misfits for important jobs, especially those with Einstein hair.

  ***

  It’d been a simple meal. Sally never claimed to be a chef.

  Snuggled tight on the sofa in her condo, she and Bud couldn’t seem to help debating the logistics of A.G. Jones and a supposed time-travel episode complete with asteroid.

  “You forget,” Sally cautioned. “I’m from Philly and it just so happens my grandfather was a security guard at the Naval Yard there. The Philadelphia Experiment was family history, went way beyond the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. Even us kids were expected to debate and discuss the subject, or any other my dad brought up.”

  “So that’s why you can hold your own! Trained in debate, huh?”

  “Don’t whine, Bud. You sound like my brothers.”

  Bud shot a withering look toward the first woman he found genuinely stimulating.

  “Anyway, there were zillions of theories.”

  “Zillions?” He enjoyed questioning her.

  “Well, hundreds at least. Tesla’s work was suspect, but still being highly utilized back then. Before the war, the ’40s were rife with new thinking and focused creativity.”

  “Wonder where we would be now if there hadn’t been a world conflict? Or, for that matter, where would we be if Hitler had opened the doors to the little ‘g’ god-powers the ancients talked about? There’s still talk Hitler never died, but went underground—literally.” Bud eyed Sally, expecting at least a hint of approval that he actually knew something.

  She did respond with a smart quip. “You might make a good conspiracy theorist, Bud—if I work with you a bit more.”

  He shrugged and tried not to smile.

  Sally was thinking deeply, throwing thoughts out. “We know the bomb was a given. If not figured out by us, another country would have developed it. The race is on today to develop robotic warriors, whether half-human or not, a super strong army that takes orders, kills without thought, and costs nothing to feed—but that’s another story.”

  “So, the bomb worked, but you think the cloaking device Nikola Tesla came up with couldn’t be contained.”

  “I guess you could say it that way. But there was more to it than that. The electromagnetic field went beyond preventing radar detection and took on otherworldly proportions. Tesla knew it wasn’t safe and resigned when the Navy wouldn’t agree to his safety changes. They were in a hurry—the war wouldn’t wait.”

  “So, after the ship’s hull was peppered with embedded human bodies of the crewmen, the Navy agreed it was unsafe and shut the project down.”

  “Looked it up, did you?”

  “Yes.” Bud’s sheepish confession cost him a bit of pride. “Didn’t want you to think I was a dunce. But here’s the deal. Did some men actually travel through time safely, or did they all end up metal men buried like a straw in a telephone pole, lodged there when tornado winds twisted the grain of the wood open before letting it close back up?”

  “There were so many rumors and theories. Some people refused to believe it happened. I took the stand that it did happen and that some men did survive on the Eldridge because they were flung into another time and space. But I also know that moving molecules through time or space doesn’t allow for identical positioning once on the other side.”

  “You mean the Star Gate doesn’t work?’ Bud teased.

  “Maybe in the future. The European Nuclear Research facility, CERN, plans to succeed. Their supercollider experiments are aimed at sound and light manipulation. If they’ve already succeeded in moving something through space, they’re not talking.”

  Sally had a faraway look in her eye—chasing some elusive wisdom.

  “But...” she continued. “There is the possibility of a glitch, a power surge, something not controllable by us at this time that might complete the perfect transporting of a human being.”

  “Books and movies can be precursors to future possibilities. I can believe in a star gate.”

  Sally smiled. “People are pathetically easy to influence.”

  “Are you suggesting I am?”

  That brought a fuller laugh. “No. But you have to admit that biblically our souls come to earth from another kingdom. God in us—we were with Him in the beginning—God breathed into Adam the breath of life. There is so much we don’t know. Think of the brain power we never use.”

  “And thank God we don’t, or there would be confused time benders crisscrossing space, looking for home like salmons fighting their way upstream.”

  “Thank you, Bud, for not being afraid to debate, and for not shutting me down because I’m a woman.”

  Bud looked at Sally with something akin to respect, or maybe fear. “You are a little scary smart,” he admitted. “Maybe you should have followed up Tesla?”

  “Can you tell that I won most of the Philadelphia Experiment debates?”

  “I bet your brothers did hate arguing against you.”

  “They did, but maybe I’m here to connect the dots as to why time travel might be possible.”

  “Elliott believes in it. Said he was investigating cosmic strings, or a cosmic loop that might
open up during power glitches and be capable of transporting people—if not through time, at least through dimensions.”

  “Interesting.” Sally’s narrowed gaze, her focused expression…Bud found them more than a little fascinating. “I have thought of that. It’s possible we have parallel worlds that are in different dimensions. I’ve wondered about a dimension without time restraints. How would that work?”

  “Ask me about bingo, and I might be able to help.” He shrugged and made a wry face. “Plus, I do know that nobody stole Hattie’s cat. They found the frenzied feline accidently locked in the backyard shed. The problems facing a small-town newspaper editor are tremendous.”

  Confusion clouded Sally’s gaze. She bit her lip—delicately…so fascinating to him. Knowing she was trying to determine his sincerity, he tried to maintain a serious expression, but lost it when she broke into full-out laughter. The conversation had been heavy. Bud embraced the bit of humor, and it seemed Sally was also ready and willing to give up the A.G. Jones mystery for awhile, especially since Sally’s Miss Puss scratched the patio door looking for food.

  Sally inched closer to Bud.

  “Aren’t you going to feed your cat?”

  “In a minute. I’m more interested in a hug right now.”

  Really. Bud wasn’t so much of a confirmed bachelor that he didn’t know how to respond. In fact, his stoic heart acted like a panicked clock and kicked up the ticking when he wrapped this strange package of woman in his arms. At least, her name was dead on.

  CHAPTER 6

  ELLIOTT, WITH BROTHER JOSEPH IN tow, surprised both Bud and Sally when they caught them together at the Speakeasy. Their tale about Mitzey and Maeve’s crazy trip through time and subsequent return to 1932, the time period of the real Prohibition Speakeasy establishment, only proved what Bud had thought.

  “I knew it. I knew it,” the editor said over and over.

  “We just thought it better not to let the cat out of the bag, lest tongues wag.”

  “That’s a creative way to put it, Brother Joseph.” Sally’s gaze changed direction looking for Misty Dawn, Maeve’s descendant. She didn’t need more coffee, but the whole affair was atypical to say the least. Especially since the two girls now present showed up just a few days after their great-grandmothers glitched back into 1932. Amazing, and Bud thought I was a little strange.

  “I thought you had discovered the truth and just didn’t press it.” Elliott smiled at Bud.

  “We think Maeve’s boss tinkered with the Royal typewriter. It was the ’40s and lots of crazy ideas exploded. Maybe he even thought a typewriter would work for time travel. I mean, you could type in a date and location.”

  Elliott added to Joseph’s information. “Apparently, a computer gamer played with the typewriter before the Royal found its way to the auction house where Kelly picked it up.”

  Elliott wasn’t finished, but the look between Bud and Sally silenced him. “What?”

  “What are you thinking?” Bud quizzed back.

  “The ’40s encouraged time travel ideas. Between that and the gamer geek’s contribution, the Royal typewriter that went back in time with Mitzey and Maeve may have contributed to both their appearance and return.”

  “A big kind of glitch,” Joseph added. “You saw the computer-animated film Wreck-It Ralph, didn’t you?”

  “What about Mark Twain’s book, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court? It was turned into a 1949 time-travel film.” Elliott’s enthusiasm for the subject caused him to talk louder than usual. They were beginning to draw attention.

  Sally lowered her voice and looked straight into Bud’s eyes. Forget any possible sweet actions. She was deadly serious. “That would match with the Philadelphia Experiment. Jones would have known about all these things.”

  “A breeding ground for Einstein wannabes.” Bud nodded, his expression thoughtful.

  Everyone sat back in their chairs. What did the whole thing mean?

  “Where did this A.G. Jones guy go?” Brother Joseph seemed to struggle with the question.

  “We don’t know. I questioned him before his release from the hospital and he promised to check in with me later to make sure there were no concussion complications. He had no I.D. on him, nor any money.”

  “He could have hitched to Tyler.” Joseph added to the possibilities. “That’s the closest flight connection out of here.”

  “Why would he leave? This would be a perfect place to hide from a future asteroid, especially since the possible 2029 asteroid is supposed to hit the West Coast.”

  “The West Coast?” Joseph asked Sally.

  “That’s what NASA thinks.”

  When it looked like more questions would be forthcoming, Bud added. “Just take her word for it, my girl’s brilliant.”

  Sally quite forgot her next words.

  “Anybody need a refill?” Misty Dawn smiled, and Joseph got up to welcome her.

  Sally studied the two of them. Amazing. A great-grandmother girlfriend turned into a present-day descendant and Joseph overly attached. Wow.

  “Refills all around. I’m paying.” Bud’s generous offer, so unlike the frugal news editor, had them all gaping.

  Perhaps it was past time to leave. Everyone had their assigned tasks and plenty to think about. But then Elliott laid out another bone to chew on. “Pray for Joseph. He hasn’t been brave enough to ask Misty to marry him—yet.”

  Joseph’s face flushed, although Misty was back behind the counter and apparently hadn’t heard. He smiled. “I guess I could use the prayers.”

  “God’s plans are beginning to fit like puzzle pieces. How interesting. I’ll pray for your bravery.” Sally touched Joseph’s hand, bringing a pleased smile to the minister’s face. “Misty Dawn is a lucky woman.”

  ***

  Saturday arrived, and Sally had a weekend free of responsibilities at the hospital. Didn’t happen often. She was stretched out in her silk pajamas enjoying extra sleep on the sofa. Puss was whining to get out. Sally had gotten really good at ignoring the demanding feline, but the doorbell was another story.

  She rolled herself off the sofa and looked through the peephole. “Eloise.” Sally rubbed her eyes. Not this morning. “Yes. This morning.” She snorted at Puss. “It’s all your fault, whining like you were to go out.” The cat rubbed against her leg.

  Sally jerked the door open. “Eloise, so nice to see you.”

  “Did I wake you, dear? I can come back later.”

  “No, no.” Sally forced a smile. “I was just relaxing on my day off. Come in.”

  Eloise put her hand in her apron pocket, extracting a small offering. “I made this jam yesterday. My daughter brought some fruit home. Didn’t think, being a city girl and all, you’d make jelly yourself. Just wanted to share.”

  “How sweet, literally.” Sally laughed and led the way to her kitchen table. Eloise and her walker followed along. “So, how’s everything with you?”

  After a litany of ailments and hints for medical advice that Sally wasn’t about to give—dangerous precedent as far as she was concerned—the subject took a miraculous change.

  “I heard some poor crazy man escaped your hospital?”

  “Escaped probably isn’t the best word. I don’t know about poor, but the guy passed muster on the crazy side. In fact, he may have been too smart.”

  “Oh, well, you know how gossip is. I heard his name was A.G. Jones. I had an uncle named A.G., but his last name was Agee—my mother’s brother. A change-of-life baby—the family always assumed that was why he was a little strange.”

  “Really?” Suddenly, Sally was all ears. “What made him strange?”

  “Oh…” Eloise covered her petite mouth. “I didn’t mean to imply anything in regard to your name.”

  “No worries.” Sally leaned forward, her interest more apparent.

  “I just meant he was unusual.” Eloise gave a little giggle. “He was always doing experiments. Even blew up some concoction he made when he
was still young enough to hide under the kitchen table. Got a whipping for it, not that it stopped him.”

  “How did he make his living? Did he become an inventor?”

  “Oh, I don’t know if he invented anything. Us kids did tease him about being related to Einstein because of his bushy eyebrows and hair. He took it as a compliment.” Elbow on the table, Eloise propped her chin in her hand. Her eyes held a faraway look.

  “He never married and finally grew up enough to open an insurance agency. It was all the rage back in those days to save your world with an insurance policy. A bunch of nonsense. Course, I do depend on Medicaid these days. Same thing, I guess.”

  Eloise had the floor, and Sally wasn’t stopping her.

  “My mom, being a socialite of sorts, tried to downplay he was her brother, so we didn’t see him much. Boy, was she miffed when he up and disappeared. Some said he found a way to time travel. If you can believe that, I’ve got a farm on a do-nothing piece of ground I need to sell.” Eloise giggled at her own humor.

  “How could he time travel?”

  “That was just gossip.” The older woman shook her head. “But he did do some research on that electric guy…what was his name?”

  “Tesla?”

  “Yeah. That guy was crazy too.”

  “Miss Eloise, I thank you so much for the jelly, but I need to be about an errand.” Sally couldn’t wait to catch up with Bud.

  CHAPTER 7

  SALLY CAUGHT BUD AT THE office. What a switch. He was usually out covering a story, or otherwise involved in chasing one, especially on a Saturday. No receptionist, but the building was open.

  “Hi, Bud, it’s Sally. My day off, so thought I’d come by and see where the boss hangs his hat.”

  No answer. Where is he? She was straightening his desk when he came in.

  “Trying to make an organized gentleman out of me? Sorry, but I live surrounded by paper. Still, you bring a pleasant change.”

  The brilliant smile on Sally’s face had a glow that reflected in Bud’s eyeglasses. He didn’t wear them often, but perched on the tip of his nose with him peering over, they mesmerized Sally. Was that a school-boy pink-cheeked flush?