Time-Travel Duo

by James Paddock

  Money!

  He pulled out his wallet and counted all he had. $15.00. He put it back and dug Anne’s wallet from her purse. $144.00. He dropped her wallet into the bag.

  Not enough. Can’t start a new life on $159.00. I’ll have to go by the bank on the way back. Draw to the limit of my bankcard. He picked up the bag and went down to the area in the corner of the living room that he called his office and started opening desk drawers.

  The first thing he saw was his Texas Instrument scientific calculator. He picked it up, and wondered what a person of 1943 would think if they saw it. “I can’t take it,” he said to no one. He laid it back in the drawer.

  He went through the remaining drawers, and then sat back. “I can’t take anything but the clothes on my back.” He pulled the money from Anne’s wallet again and began looking at the dates. 1984... 1986... 1983... 1986. He threw the money and wallet into a drawer, slammed it closed and shoved himself backwards in the wheeled chair. He moved only a few inches in the thick carpet.

  He caught Anne staring down at him from her other observation point next to the books on the shelf above the desk. “Now what, Steven? What are we going to start a new life with?”

  “I’ll get a job.”

  “Doing what, Steven?”

  He dropped his eyes to another of her in her cap and gown. It sat right next to his.

  “You’ve never done manual labor.”

  “I could become a stock broker.”

  “Humph!”

  “Seriously. I know that we’ll make it.”

  “And what’s to keep us from starving until this venture takes off?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned in his chair and scanned the room from wall to wall as though an idea would appear between the framed stormy ocean scene and the antique portrait of Anne’s great-grandmother, painted before the turn of the century.

  “What about your father’s coin collection?” His head snapped back around to her photo. “I’m sure there’s some old money there.”

  “Yes!” Steven yelled and then jumped up and ran upstairs.

  Chapter 3

  Saturday ~ July 17, 1943

  “Detaillll... Halt! Fall out. Store your gear before, and I mean before mail call. Night duty personnel report to the quarterdeck at 1930 for briefing.”

  “Chief!”

  “What now, O’Brian? Haven’t you bugged me enough already today about that leave chit? It’s out of my hands, even if I wanted to let you go. The command has said no leave granted, period. Do you read me, O’Brian?”

  “But, Chief. It’s an emergency.”

  “Your girlfriend being pregnant is not an emergency, Seaman O’Brian. Now store your gear and get out of my face.”

  “But...”

  “Move it, Sailor! Now!”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Don’t sir me, O’Brian. How long have you been in the Navy?”

  “Year and a half, Chief.”

  “Year and a half and you still don’t know a chief from a fuck’n officer?”

  “No, Sir. I mean, yes, Chief.”

  Chief Savage stood on the top step of the barracks as the men streamed around him. Men! he thought. Just kids in most cases, stuck in men’s bodies, a few in kids’ bodies. Except those who had already seen shipboard combat. They weren’t kids anymore. They presented an entirely different set of problems. He was so tired of baby-sitting all of them. He was in charge of the Transit Barracks, had been for eight months. “Time for you to recuperate,” Commander Williams had told him. Well, he was tired of recuperating and was ready to go back to the fleet. A lot of men died that day on the Yorktown, and his reward for not going down with them was being sent to this God forsaken hole in Charleston. His greatest desire was to go back to the fleet. Instead, he had to deal with snot-nosed kids who knocked up their girlfriends.

  “Chief! Chief!” Another of the young sailors was frantically calling from inside. “There’s a woman in here.”

  “What?”

  “There’s a pregnant woman in here Chief!”

  “O’Brian?” Chief Savage bellowed and stepped through the open barracks door. “Where the hell is O’Brian?”

  O’Brian spoke up from down the hall. “Not me, Chief, I don’t know nothing about it.”

  The Chief broke through the crowd of curious sailors to find a very pregnant woman lying unconscious on the floor between rows of neatly made bunks, curled up in a tight ball. He checked her pulse. It was weak. “Smitty, give me your blanket, and pillow too. Norwadski, double time it over to sick bay and get the Doc over here.”

  Someone threw the blanket over the woman while another gently raised her head so the pillow could be slid in place. “She’s awfully hot, Chief.”

  “Get a wet towel. Everyone else out of here. Give this lady room to breathe. Does anyone know where she came from?”

  He looked up into a mass of stares and silent mouths hanging open.

  “Come on, Gentlemen! A woman can’t just wander in here without being noticed by somebody.”

  “Nobody but the watch has been here all day Chief. You’ve been with us.”

  “Who has the watch?”

  “Right here, Chief.” A sailor with a white guard belt and white hard hat stepped through the crowd. “I didn’t hear or see anything, and I walked through here just fifteen minutes ago.”

  “All right, I want this entire barracks searched. Look for anything else unusual. Petty Officer Polk, take charge of it. I expect a report in fifteen minutes. Everybody else out... out... OUT!”

  Petty Officer Polk began issuing orders and the crew scattered throughout the building.

  “You stay with me, Smitty,” said the chief. He gently rubbed the wet towel across her forehead. Bits of makeup came off. Smitty wet the towel again and the Chief attempted to wash off all the makeup. He thought she would breathe more easily with all that junk off her face. The strength of her pulse seemed to be improving. He just wished the Doc would hurry up.

  “I think she’s waking up, Chief.” They watched as the blanket moved and slowly, the whiskers, nose and then the entire face of a rabbit appeared, his pink eyes fearful.

  “What the hell?” The rabbit ducked back.

  “What’s this about a woman, Chief?” Lieutenant Martin asked as he stepped through the doorway, followed by Norwadski.

  Chief Savage stood. “She was found lying here when we returned from mess call, Doc. All I can tell you so far is she’s pregnant.”

  “Yeah, Chief. Doesn’t take much to notice that.”

  “I checked her pulse and it seems okay, I guess. She does feel very hot though.”

  The Doc knelt next to her, verifying what the chief just told him. “We need to get her to a civilian hospital. We have no maternity facilities. Norwadski, go call for an ambulance.”

  “Smitty.” The Chief pulled back the blanket and extracted the rabbit from amongst the woman’s arms and garments. “Take the Easter Bunny here and store him for safe keeping.”

  “Right Chief.” Smitty left the room with the rabbit in his arms. Several seconds later he poked his head back in the door. “Where, Chief?”

  “I don’t know. Stick him in the storeroom. Run over to the galley and see if they have any lettuce or something.”

  “Where did the rabbit come from, Chief?” The Doc asked.

  “She apparently was holding it when she collapsed.”

  “Any idea yet where she came from, or who’s responsible?”

  “No, Sir. Every face looked as surprised as I was. I’ve got them scouring the building for anything else unusual. I’ll interrogate them, then write up the report, but I have a feeling they don’t know anything. Do you think we should call the XO?”

  “Well, Chief, with a war going on and a breach of security, I think we should call the Duty Officer. Let him decide.”

  The chief went to his office to do that.

  Anne could hear voices as she came out of her sleep, out of one of the
strangest dreams she ever had. She had seen storms and explosions and tremendous flocks of birds flying swiftly in great circles. She dreamed of cold and hot sensations, one right after the other; of flying fast in a noiseless airplane straight through the flocks of birds; and of trying to fly alone but falling to the earth and being caught by a huge teddy bear with big ears. The dreams faded and she wondered why she could hear all these strange men in her bedroom. “Steven,” she tried to say. The voices continued. “Steven,” she did say the second time and the voices stopped.

  “Steven, who’s here?”

  The Chief and the Doc looked at each other, and then waited to hear what else she would say. She remained still and quiet for a time, then opened her eyes. Bewildered, she sat up and looked at the two men squatting a few feet away. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the transit barracks, Ma’am. How did you get in here?”

  She looked around her. “I’m where? Transit barracks?”

  “Ma’am, I’m Doctor Martin, Lieutenant Martin. This is Chief Savage. Let us help you up onto a bunk. I’ve got an ambulance coming.”

  “Ambulance? Why? What happened? Where am I?” She felt her belly, her baby. Nothing seemed wrong.

  “You’re in a Navy barracks, Ma’am. You were unconscious.”

  She looked at the bunk and then presented her arm to the doctor. Chief Savage took her other arm. “Where’s Steven?” She asked after she settled onto the bunk.

  “Steven who?” asked the Doctor.

  “I don’t have anyone named Steven,” said the Chief.

  “My husband, Steven Waring. He’s the Project Assistant Coordinator.”

  “What project?”

  She knew nothing about the project, except that it was secret. “It’s just the project.”

  “What’s his rank?”

  “He’s not in the Navy. He’s a civilian.”

  “The ambulance is here, Sir.” A sailor announced from the door.

  “Bring them in. They don’t need a stretcher. Keep everybody else out of here.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “What’s your name, Ma’am?”

  “Anne.”

  “Anne Waring?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where does your husband work? Do you know what building he works in?”

  “Building 524.”

  “This is building 524 and this is a Navy barracks,” The Chief inserted. “There are no civilian employees working here.”

  Anne looked at him incredulously.

  “I’m Chief Savage, Ma’am, and I’m in charge of this barracks. I assure you, there’s nobody here by that name.”

  “How did you get on base?” asked the Doc.

  Anne’s mind was starting to clear and she began remembering the day’s events. “I drove my husband’s truck,” she said. Two more men came in and stood behind the doctor. It was then that she realized something was different about their uniforms. She had never looked at Navy uniforms that closely, but something about these appeared to be both different and familiar at the same time. She couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “And how did you get the truck on base?”

  “I drove through the gate.”

  “The guard didn’t stop you?”

  “No, he saw the sticker and waved me through like he always does.”

  “You mean you drive on base a lot?”

  “Well, no, not a lot. Probably about once a week; to go to the Commissary and Exchange.” Another man walked in with gold bars on his shoulders. Someone yelled, “Attention on deck!” Everybody stood at attention.

  “At ease,” the officer said.

  The doctor met him and they walked out of the room. Maybe I’m still dreaming, she thought. She pinched herself and it hurt. “What did that prove?” she muttered to herself.

  “What was that Ma’am?” The Chief asked.

  “Chief Savage, right?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Well, Mr. Savage, I don’t understand a thing that’s going on. When I walked in here, this wasn’t a barracks. There was an office up front where I came in and this room,” she looked around, “which was a lot smaller than this, was full of electronic equipment and computers. I remember clearly now; I walked into building 524. It has the number painted on the side of the building. I looked right at it when I parked the truck.”

  “Ma’am, this building has been a barracks since it was built at the beginning of the war.”

  “War?” She looked straight at the Chief. “What war?”

  “Where have you been, Ma’am? We’re at war with Germany and Japan. Don’t you remember Pearl Harbor?”

  “Yes, but, that was,” she thought for a minute, “Almost 50 years ago.”

  The chief stood. “Please excuse me, Ma’am.” He ordered the two corpsmen to keep an eye on her and to not let her leave, and then joined the Doc and the duty officer in his office. The Doc had just finished filling in the duty officer on what he had learned so far.

  “Commander,” the chief said, “I think she’s nuts. She keeps talking about a truck she parked outside, and drives on base all the time, and there’s no truck. She also insists this is her husband’s building; and she believes that Pearl Harbor happened 50 years ago. She doesn’t even know there’s a war going on.”

  “Let’s get her to the civilian hospital,” the commander said. “I don’t think she’s a security threat. Take her to Roper Hospital and turn her over to the civilian authorities. I’ll brief the XO. Chief, I expect you to find out who is responsible for bringing her on base.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The duty officer walked out of the office and through the sailors who again jumped to attention, leaving the problem of the security breach to the chief, and of the pregnant woman to the Doc.

  The Chief turned to the Doc, “Well, Doc, she’s all yours.”

  “Thanks, Chief. Thanks a lot.”

  Anne studied the two sailors, one a perfect shadow of the other with their feet apart and hands behind their backs. Their little white hats were folded neatly and stuffed in their belts. Their white pants flared out at the knees in the old bell-bottom style. Their white shirts were a pull over type, long sleeved with stripes on the right arm and a black tie or rolled scarf, tied in the front. They looked just like the uniforms in the photos she saw when she came in, and something about that kept nagging at her.

  “I think I need to stand and walk around a little bit,” she said more to herself than to them, but before she could move, they were by her side, offering assistance. She accepted one hand and rose, then leaned hard on him until the dizziness passed. She took a closer look around the room; however, there was little to look at besides bunks and lockers. She tried to figure out how she got in here and where she was, but she had no reference. Maybe I got delirious and wandered into the wrong building. Yes. That had to be it. She knew exactly what had happened now. The heat had gotten so bad that she had blanked out and she had gone into the wrong building.

  “I believe it’s just this heat, guys. I need to go find my husband and get out of your hair.” She started toward the door. “This really is very embarrassing.”

  The sailors blocked her way. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. You have to wait for the doctor.”

  A wave of nausea and a dull, thick pain caught her off balance. One of the sailors moved toward her. The pain receded and she slowly moved back toward the bunk she had been sitting on. Before she could sit, she felt a trickle of fluid running down the inside of her leg. She sat and the trickle turned into a gush.

  “Is there something wrong, Ma’am?” one of the sailors asked.

  “Yes, I guess you could say that. Where is the doctor?”

  The two sailors looked at each other, then one of them ran out the door.

  “Doc, I think she’s having her baby,” the sailor yelled.

  The Doc rushed in to find Anne sitting on the edge of the bunk looking up at him.

  “Don’t get your shorts in a knot
, Doc. I’m not in labor, at least not yet. My water broke.”

  The Doc’s face contorted, then he ordered one of the sailors to fetch some towels and blankets. “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit first,” he said to Anne.

  After a moment of silence Anne said, “So, how many babies have you delivered, Doctor Martin?”

  He looked at her for a long few seconds. Anne raised her eyebrows. “That many, huh!”

  “I assisted with one in medical school,” he said quietly.

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  There was another long silence. “How did you say you came to be here?” he asked.

  “I parked out front and walked into what I thought was building 524, my husband’s lab. I’ve been bothered by the heat all day Doc, so I think what happened is that it finally got to me. I became confused and came to the wrong building.”

  “Ah huh,” the Doc said. The sailor returned with an armful of towels and blankets.

  The Doc said, “Get those clothes off and wrap this blanket around yourself. We’ll get you out of here.” He and the sailor held up one of the blankets and turned their backs to her. She stripped from the waist down.

  “You said, heat, Ma’am?”

  “Right. It’s got to be at least a hundred degrees out there.”

  “Ma’am, this has been the coolest day on record for the middle of July. I don’t believe it got over seventy.”

  Anne looked across the top of the blanket at the back of Lieutenant Martin’s head. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” the head said. “Do you feel hot now, Mrs. Waring?”

  Anne considered that, realizing she actually felt chilled. “Well, no, but that’s probably because of the air conditioning.”

  “Air conditioning, Ma’am? What’s that?”

  She said no more. This whole deal was getting stranger by the minute.

  “When you’re ready, we can walk out of here. I don’t believe you need these guys carrying you.”

  Anne rolled her clothes in a towel, tightened the blanket around her and looked at the Doc. “I’ll carry myself, thank you. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

  “Well then, let’s go.”

  They walked toward the door together, the navy doctor holding her arm. The two sailors cleared a path through the several dozen curious men milling in the hallway. She tried not to think about them staring at her, kept her eyes casting downward. But, just before walking outside she stopped and looked around. This is not the same building I walked into, she thought. This is all different. Where are the pictures? The pictures she saw when she came in were gone. Before, there were fluorescent lights. Now, just a couple bare bulbs hung from the ceiling.