Sandcastle for Pegasus

by Bob Avey

  Martin ran back to the driveway where Luke must have stayed talking to Tanner, but he was not there. Tanner was gone too along with the motorcycle.

  Turning back, Martin again went into the house, though a sick feeling formed in the pit of his stomach as he saw Susan in the foyer running toward him with outstretched hands, her eyes red and moist. As she drew within range of his arms, Martin reached for her, but like a ghost she faded into nothing.

  Then, the walls around Martin also disintegrated as if the world were only a thought in his mind, a hologram projected onto the mist he’d walked though now blown away by some cosmic wind. Martin did not lose his awareness. If anything, his senses were more alive than ever, including his sight, though he could see only darkness. An overwhelming fear that he might float forever alone in an empty expanse threatened to rob him of his senses. A single sensation, however, gave him hope, something to cling to. Susan and Luke were nearby, though he could not see them. It was true, though. He could never mistake the sweet scent of Susan’s perfume.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JOHN

  May 4, 2020, 5:00 a.m.

  John’s impatience grew to near intolerable levels as the people in front of him stood in the aisles, lacking even a snail-like movement toward the exit. He didn’t know why he was in a hurry to disembark from flight 207 to Tulsa. It was only a two-hour flight. Why did so many of the passengers feel they must take off half their clothing to gain a small amount of comfort? Not to mention they also spread the clothing out over numerous overhead bins only to forget which ones, so they had to check them all at the flight’s end.

  When movement finally happened, it did so like freed water from a hose. Exiting the walkway, John entered the airport terminal and went directly to the car rental area. Minutes later, he pulled the car, a subcompact with a stick shift, onto the highway. He hadn’t known the rental fleet would include stick shifts in their inventory. Most people didn’t drive them anymore, and many wouldn’t know how if forced into it. He blew it off as bad management and then drove from memory to Mulberry Avenue in Broken Arrow.

  Later, he pulled to the curb across the street from Martin Taylor’s house and parked. He hoped the odd-looking car wouldn’t draw attention. He noticed the brand, something he hadn’t done earlier, imprinted in a swirly cursive across the dash near the glove compartment. He’d never heard of a Medina. He guessed it didn’t matter.

  According to his calculations, Martin and his son, Luke, should be leaving the house around 8:30 a.m. He had over two hours to wait. He now wondered why he’d allowed himself such leeway. Of course, he wanted to be sure he didn’t miss Martin, though he couldn’t recall being this cautious before. More than a few things had seemed off-kilter since the jump, small things like his becoming irritated on the plane and stick shifts at the rental agency, but enough in his line of work to consider. He was about to conclude that an error had corrupted the jump when the garage door to Martin Taylor’s house rose, followed by an older model Audi backing out onto the driveway.

  A driver sat behind the wheel. A passenger was in the front.

  It would be Martin and Luke Taylor. John put the Medina in first gear, let out on the clutch as he eased pressure against the gas pedal, and fell in behind the Audi. With the time showing just shy of 7:00 a.m., John wondered if his being early had been coincidence or carelessness on his part, or that of the technicians.

  About ten miles later, the Audi exited the highway, rode the feeder road for a short distance, and then pulled into a collection of buildings arranged into a rough semicircle around manicured lawns, sidewalks, and an asphalt parking lot. It appeared to be a complex where professionals might work, most likely of the medical persuasion. As the Audi pulled into parking spot, John parked the Medina close enough to observe while keeping what would have been a safe distance had they not been the only two cars in the lot. If it were a medical complex, nothing would happen for at least three hours.

  The door to the Audi swung open and an attractive lady with blonde hair stepped out. Even though her hair color and style differed from before, John had no problem recognizing her. It was Susan Taylor, Martin’s wife. That wasn’t all. Judging by the look on her face, she recognized John as well. At the very least, she had realized he was there and didn’t like the looks of the situation. John thought she might get back in the car and drive off. Instead, she slammed the door and started across the lot toward him.

  She bravely walked to the driver’s side of John’s car and motioned for the window to be rolled down. When he had complied, she said, “Do I know you?”

  “I don’t think so,” John said. And it was true. Even though he knew her, she should not, based on John’s experiences, know him.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “I’m sure it only appears that way,” John said. “In all likelihood, we both have an appointment with one of the doctors here.”

  “It’s awfully early for a doctor’s appointment,” Susan said. That the point would apply equally to her didn’t seem to register with her. “I think you’re following me, and I intend to do something about it.”

  “Wait a minute,” John said.

  He stopped and rubbed his forehead. His mentioning the word doctor triggered something, and a bout of dizziness ran through him. When he looked up, he did not observe one Susan or one parking lot, but many. As a child, he’d seen an old horror movie where the perspective of the camera was that of a housefly, the vantage point reflecting with numerous tiny eyes a world fragmented into an array of dizzying images. John’s perspective differed from the movie, though, in that what he saw was not a multitude of the same image, but a kaleidoscope of snapshots, each one only slightly different than the others.

  He tried to get out of the car, but the dizziness was too great. Whatever doubt that had existed in his mind was gone. His nightmare had been fully realized. The jump had gone wrong. He had to contact Andrew. He had to get back to Arlington and return to the reference point. Maybe in the movies, one could seek a magical portal that showed up when needed, but reality was not so convenient. He reached for his phone but found only an empty pocket.

  “Do you have a phone?” he asked. “I need to make a call. It’s extremely urgent.”

  Some of the Susans gave him a perplexed look while others seemed to answer in the affirmative. John struggled from the car and stumbled toward a Susan who held out a phone for him. He heard some others say things like, “A phone? Well, not on me. There will be one in the doctor’s office, but it’s awfully early.”

  John grasped the phone offered to him and fumbled the numbers into the keypad. Someone came on the line. Perhaps it was Andrew, but he didn’t wait to find out. “Things have gone wrong,” he said. “I am in no shape to travel. Please lock onto my coordinates. I’ll need someone to come and get me. I can’t make it back on my own. Are you there, Andrew? Are you there?”

  John received no answer. He returned the phone and stumbled back to the rental car. He couldn’t take the chance on whether Andrew had received the message. He’d have to make it on his own. Travel took a strong electromagnetic field, and the type of equipment it took to achieve such a field could only be found in one place he knew of. He started the car and drove toward one of the images. He would make it to the airport. If he could do that, he should be able to get a flight back to Arlington.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MARTIN

  May 4, 2020, 7:00 a.m.

  The portentous nature within the empty chasm ran a current of fear through Martin as he floated within it. It was up to him to solve this dilemma and put things back in order before it was too late. Too late for what, he wasn’t sure. He was only sure of one thing; a nagging feeling in the back of his mind kept telling him he had to do something
about Doctor Stewart.

  The trouble was, he was almost as terrified of facing Doctor Stewart as he was of the prospect of floating for eternity in this abyss. Once again, Martin conjured the image of the calendar as he had earlier and imagined his grandfather’s watch alongside it. Nothing happened, though, and it occurred to him that the other traveling experiences had come during times of tremendous stress; first, to avoid the automobile accident, and then, to stop the death of a friend.

  Something touched his feet, and he struggled to regain his balance against the hard surface thrust beneath him. The darkness remained, but he made out shapes in the immediate vicinity. He could only guess he’d ended up in such a location because he failed to conjure a specific time and place. It wasn’t long, however, until he realized he was not in some unknown place but was, in fact, standing in the parking lot not far from the building where he and Luke had gone for an appointment with Doctor Stewart.

  Why he ended up at this location was not a mystery. He’d been thinking about Doctor Stewart. It was the how that puzzled him. He checked his watch, which showed May 04, around 6:30 a.m. That explained the empty lot and the now fading darkness. If the events of the day followed the sequence they had previously, he and Luke would arrive here around 9:00 a.m.

  “Why are you following me?”

  The sound of someone talking drifted across Martin’s senses, and he turned toward what he thought to be the source.

  It turned out the parking lot was not empty. Two people stood beside their cars, having not quite a heated conversation, but certainly not a friendly one. Their body language gave that much away.

  “Why are you following me?”

  Again, the same question. Martin didn’t like the sound of it. He started across the parking lot, cautiously approaching the people. He didn’t know what he would do if they were having an argument, but he couldn’t keep a clear conscience and do nothing.

  What he saw next, though, as the details of the cars came into view, gave him another reason to pause. The familiar, discolored door and slightly dented rear quarter panel identified the automobile. It was the Audi—his Audi. What was more, he could never mistake the silhouette of the person standing near it. He quickened his pace, calling out to her as he drew near.

  “Susan? It’s me, Martin!”

  Martin walked closer, but Susan gave no indication that she had heard or seen him. The man glanced in Martin’s direction. The tall, elderly gentleman did not look directly at Martin, only in the general area, but that coupled with the puzzled look on his face indicated he had at least noticed something going on.

  As Martin stepped closer, the ground shook. Right before his eyes Susan changed, blossoming into many images, each a slightly different version of the woman he loved.

  “Susan!” he screamed. The noise level had risen. The shaking ground, he guessed. “What’s happening? Can you hear me?”

  The many images of Susan remained silent, and they swirled, forming into what looked to be a glittering, windless tornado that rose into the sky, becoming smaller until it disappeared. The shaking stopped, and again the area became eerily quiet. The Audi appeared to be covered in a sort of mist, but it remained where it had been, parked a few spaces from an odd-looking car Martin could not identify. The elderly gentleman was still there.

  “Who are you?” Martin asked.

  The man still couldn’t see Martin, but he was sure he could sense his presence. It was his expression, and the way he kept looking in Martin’s direction. A stray thought formed in Martin’s mind, and he suspected the strange man was connected to what was happening.

  “I need your help,” Martin said. “My world is falling apart, and I can’t seem to stop it. Tell me, do you know what is happening to me?”

  The man didn’t answer, though it appeared as if he desperately wanted to. He looked around the parking lot for a few seconds, his face carrying an expression that looked as lost as Martin felt.

  “There’s something you need to do,” the man said. “I’m going to give you a date. You need to go there and see for yourself. But don’t stay there more than a few seconds.”

  “Who are you?” Martin asked, “and why is this happening to me?”

  “I’m the man at the end of the rainbow. And the date is August 12, 1943.

  . . .

  Martin sat in a hard, uncomfortable seat and gripped the handles of a small, two-barreled cannon. A current of fear snaked through his mind. What was happening to him? He sensed a presence and instinctively focused on it. He’d either gone mad, like Tanner had suggested, or his thoughts were tangled with someone else’s. He looked at his hands, which were ruddy and covered with short, black hair. His thoughts might be that of Martin Taylor, but his physical being was another matter. He focused on the presence he’d felt earlier. He had somehow occupied the mind and body of someone named Clayton Devereaux, a gunner on-board the USS Eldridge. The date 1943 blossomed in Martin’s mind.

  “Hey, Clayton,” someone whispered.

  Martin turned to see two men standing beside Clayton’s duty station. He decided to play along. “What do you want?”

  “We heard you were scared, don’t want to go along with this. Cameron and I have a plan, thought you might want to join us.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “We’re getting off the ship before they throw the switches. Why don’t you come with us? It’d be the smart thing to do. But you better hurry. We don’t have much time.”

  Martin searched the mind of Clayton Devereaux. A potentially destructive event was about to unfold, something called the Philadelphia Experiment, and it had something to do with what was happening to Martin.

  The sudden feeling of claustrophobia welled up inside Martin. This was not his body. He had to get out. He didn’t belong here. Dark walls shrouded the edges of his vision and crept closer until he was surrounded in darkness.

  . . .

  Martin opened his eyes to the parking lot. He looked down at his hands, relief washing over him as he recognized them as his own. He searched the parking lot for Susan or the elderly man, but they were nowhere to be seen. Everything grew quiet again until the sound of footsteps coming from behind shattered the silence.

  Martin twirled around to see Doctor Stewart walking toward him. “You look a little lost,” he said. “Might I be of assistance?”

  Martin glanced toward the area where the Audi had been parked.

  The car was still there. Whether the keys were in it—or if it would even start if they were—ran through his mind. “Everything is fine,” he said, “but thanks for asking.”

  “Not a problem,” the doctor said. “However, you look familiar. I believe I’ve seen you before. Do you have an appointment today?”

  Martin shook his head. The doctor kept his unnaturally black hair purposefully disarrayed. His eyes were intense and deep set. “You must be mistaken.”

  Doctor Stewart’s eyes grew more intense. He had the kind of face that was hard to say no to, and Martin wondered if he’d misjudged the man.

  The doctor smiled. “I never forget a face. Being a patient of mine is nothing to be ashamed of. You have an appointment, don’t you?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Martin said. “But the appointment is not for me. It’s for my son, Luke. And I wish to cancel it.”

  “I don’t see a problem with that. Except Luke will need to make the cancellation. What is the date of the appointment?”

  “Luke’s not able to do that,” Martin said. “And it was for today at 9:00 a.m.”

  “Like I said, Luke will have to cancel it, unless you have legal guardianship or power of attorney.”

 
Or we could just not show up.

  “I’ve never formalized it, but I’ve always handled his affairs, either me or his mother. Luke isn’t mentally capable of handling such things.”

  The doctor’s face softened. “Perhaps we can bend a few rules. However, it’s a problem you and your wife will need to address. You could run into problems down the road. By the way, what exactly was I to see your son for?”

  “It’s nothing, really. I carry Luke on my insurance at work, and we just had a change in carriers. The new carrier wants a psychological examination done.”

  He nodded. “It’s always some kind of problem or another, isn’t it? Under those circumstances, are you sure it’s wise to cancel?”

  Again, Martin glanced at the Audi, wondering why he was putting himself through this. He could simply agree to keep the appointment and then ditch it as planned. Then again, there was the matter of Luke’s insurance to consider. Doctor Stewart certainly seemed kind and understanding. Perhaps he had misjudged him.

  And all that logic might mean something, Martin, if you hadn’t fallen down the rabbit hole.

  “I see your point,” Martin said. “I guess I was just getting a little nervous about the whole thing. I’ll go get Luke, and we’ll see you again around 9:00.”

  Doctor Stewart smiled. “You’ve made an excellent decision. Isn’t it good to talk these things over? On that note, there is some paperwork you will need to fill out. Why don’t you come into my office and get that part of it taken care of? It will be easier that way. You will have your hands full later when you have your son with you. What do you say?”

  Martin did not want to go in and fill out the paperwork, but he nodded his agreement anyway. It was the way of his life, always doing things he didn’t want to do. “You’re probably right,” he said.

  Martin cringed when Doctor Stewart put his arm around him, just a casual gesture like an overbearing friend might do, but with Stewart it felt like shaking hands with the devil. But Martin hadn’t completely lost his mind. His world had definitely jumped the track, and it had all started here. Maybe he would find some answers.