"No, thank you," Bronwyn replied softly. Feeling like she needed to explain herself, she said, "I picked up some kind of bug or something just before we got to Haskell. I've been to the doctor but they don't have a clue. It just comes over me all of a sudden. Then, it'll be gone in a couple minutes—but not yet." She leaned over and threw up what little else was in her stomach.
As Susan held Bronwyn's hair, she asked, "Are you sure you're not pregnant?"
"Absolutely." Turning to look at Susan, she said, almost sternly, "I can't be."
"You mean you were on the level back there? When you said you were—that you two hadn't—you were on the level? You two really haven't?"
Forcing a wry smile and feeling as suddenly better as she had predicted, Bronwyn replied, "Not yet."
"Wow," was all Susan could manage. After a while, when it appeared that Bronwyn was finally done, Susan couldn't hold on to her curiosity any longer and asked, "What about Jason? He's not a—a virgin, is he? Sorry, it's none of my business."
Bronwyn wasn't sure why she answered, but she replied, "Actually, he was married once. That's who—that's who you reminded him of. Remember that day you and Lanny came to the gas station and Jason said he thought you were someone else? Her name was even Susan. But she died of cancer five or six years ago and when he saw you it, well, it shook him up. He had a picture of her in his wallet and you really do look like her."
"How weird," Susan mumbled. "Are you OK, now?"
Bronwyn nodded and told her, "Like I said, as soon as it comes over me it's gone. I feel fine now. Maybe a little hungry, even."
"Boy, I can't eat anything after I throw up."
"Neither can I, usually. That's part of what makes me think this is some strange kind of bug or something. Doc said the symptoms were consistent with a concussion, but I haven’t hit my head or anything. Right now, I don't feel like I ever threw up, except that I'm kind of empty and have a terrible taste in my mouth." She turned to Susan and, taking her hands, said, "Thanks for helping me back there."
Susan just shrugged with a smile and, as they made their way back to the car, Bronwyn added, "I can't wait until this is over, whatever it is."
"Are you sure you feel OK?" Lanny asked as they walked up to the JP's house.
"I feel great!" Bronwyn replied happily. She hugged Jason's arm and said, "Really, I've never felt any better."
After swearing to affadavits that they had no birth certificates or any way to obtain them, and that they really were Jason Kerrigan and Bronwyn Dalmouth, they were asked to stand before the Honorable Justice of the Peace Reuben Thigpen with Susan to Bronwyn's left and Lanny to Jason's right. Thus standing, they were legally married in Haskell County, Texas, on a Friday night in June, 1947.
"Ya'll want to grab a bite to eat? There's a good road-house over towards Munday," Lanny said as they exited the JP's house. "Our treat as a gift to the newlyweds."
Bronwyn smiled at Jason and said, "To tell you the truth, I am kind of hungry, Jason. Seeing as my supper is somewhere back between here and Haskell." She looked around and said, "Sorry. That's gross. It's just happened so much lately I have forgotten to be, um, ladylike about it."
"We don't want her passing out from hunger on you later on tonight," Susan chided, to quickly receive one of the back-handed slaps to the shoulder Bronwyn usually reserved for Jason. "Sorry," Susan responded, blushing. "I guess I forgot my ladylike manners, too."
"Yeah, let's go get something to eat," Jason said, as if hungry. Actually, he was so nervous at the prospect of that night—as much as he had looked forward to it—that he was afraid he was going to mimic Bronwyn's earlier performance.
As the two women hugged goodnight, Lanny shook Jason's hand and said conspiratorially, "My daddy told me that when he and my mama got married back in Virginia, his buddies threw him a shivaree. They rounded up a whole bunch of fellas and stood outside the window singing and hollerin' and firin' off shotguns. Want me to round up a few of the boys?"
"You do and I'll fire back. I know just where my service revolver is," Jason told him in a voice that sounded quite serious.
Bronwyn, not entirely sure why she did it other than that she suddenly felt like a fifteen year old girl about to go on her first date and that she had the opportunity to talk to another woman, asked, "Any advice?"
A shocked Susan could only reply, "Just show him you love him." She kissed Bronwyn on the cheek and let her go. Then she and Lanny watched a blushing Jason and Bronwyn ascend the stairs.
"So," Bronwyn asked softly, a coy lilt to her voice, "Do I look as good as you thought I would back in McIntyre's office?"
"Bronwyn!"
“Good morning, husband,” Bronwyn said when his eyes opened. She had been awake a few minutes and had just lain there, staring at him, marveling that she was married.
“Good morning, Bronwyn,” he replied, shifting in the bed so he could hold her close and kiss her.
“So, was it better sleeping in the bed?”
“Infinitely.”
“I was just thinking, while I waited for you to wake up: this is where I’m supposed to be. Not just this Haskell or this world or whatever, but right here. Your wife. It’s all I want to be.”
After he had kissed her some more, he told her, “I feel exactly the same. I, um, I never thought I would marry again. For a long time, I was sure I wouldn’t. But you and I, I think we’re supposed to be married. I love you very much.”
“So, are you nervous about going to a church?” he asked as they got closer. They had talked about going to church earlier in the week, but then with the wedding the night before, they had thought they would probably be sleeping in. But then they had awakened in time and, after some discussion, had decided that going to church was a good way to start off their married life.
“Not really. I liked going to chapel back at Marathon—and at Kirby. And I want to go to church with you.” She said it as if there were more to the sentence but she just couldn’t get it out.
“But what?” he asked softly, then told himself maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe he should just let it rest.
Then she blushed and, leaning close, she said, “I just feel funny.” Her skin got even more flushed as she said, “Half an hour ago we were, um, well, you know what we were doing. I’m just afraid we’re going to walk into church and everyone’s going to know what we were doing.”
“We are married, Bronwyn.”
“I know that!” she retorted, the blush still not going away. She fanned herself and said, “It’s just a little embarrassing.”
“Would you rather we turn around and try again next Sunday? Or maybe come back for the evening service?”
“No,” she told him with resolve. “I want this marriage to be with God the whole way.” Trying to laugh it off, she suggested, “Maybe next Sunday we can wait until after church to, um, you know.”
“It’s going to be real hard, though, to stay focused on sermon if I know that’s coming when we get home.”
“You’re terrible!” she laughed, slapping him on the arm.
The church service was a little hard for Jason. The building looked just like it had when he had attended it with Susan—and his friend the coach before that. But what made it hard were all the people inside who he recognized by sight but didn’t know him. A couple he had seen during the week while at the gas station, but most of them this was the first time for him to see them since coming to Haskell.
He sat there, ticking off the names in his mind. Some of them he knew only by name, but there were people here he had played football with or gone to school with. There was a woman over to his right who he had gone out with once, back in his sophomore year of high school, but she obviously didn’t recognize him. There was the Pace family—he’d eaten at their house a time or two.
After service, as he had shook hands with a dozen people and tried his best not to say their names before they told them to him, he was in a bit of a daze. It had been strange all week long to see
people who he knew but didn’t know him, but so many at once like this was a bit of overload. He found himself breathing hard and he wasn’t sure why.
The Kings invited them over for lunch and it turned out to be a nice, relaxing time. After the meal, Bronwyn sat and talked with Una and her daughter, while Henry handed Jason a baseball glove and took him out front to toss a ball around. While Jason hated to be away from his new bride on their first day of marriage, he quickly realized he enjoyed throwing and conversing with Henry. The older man had quite an arm on him and they were soon standing a pretty fair distance apart. Jason knew he was going to feel it in the morning, but for the moment his arm was really enjoying the workout.
“You play ball, Henry?” Jason was hoping it was not too obvious that, until a few days before, he had never even seen a baseball, let alone thrown or caught one.
“I did. Played in college at Austin. In high school before that.” He threw a rocket that Jason was tempted to get out of the way of rather than catch before adding, “I thought about going back to it after the war, but I never did. A pick-up game here and there, but never more than that. Played a little softball here and there.”
“You were in the war?” Jason asked in surprise.
“The first one,” Henry explained.
“Oh,” Jason nodded in understanding. “What did you do?”
“Engineer, on a train.”
“No foolin’? I was a pilot myself.”
“I tried that. Passed out on my solo flight.”
“Passed out?” Jason queried dubiously. “Then how are you here today?”
“Woke up just in time to land. Then it was a race to see if they could wash me out of the pilot’s program before I could quit. Not sure how I wound up an engineer, but I did. Pretty good at it, they said.”
Jason had an idea there was something behind that last statement but wasn’t sure what or how to ask, so he let it go.
“How long you and Bronwyn been married?” Henry asked in a friendly manner.
Jason almost replied, “About fourteen hours,” but managed to say out loud, “Not long.” Laughing it off as a joke, he quipped, “Does it show?”
“Oh yeah,” Henry returned with a genuine chuckle. “She seems like a wonderful girl—woman.”
“She’s . . . the best.”
“So, what did you and Una talk about?”
“Family, and kids.” They were sitting in their little apartment, Jason already starting to feel a little ache in his arm, which Bronwyn was trying to massage away. “She, um, she asked if we planned on having kids.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth. That we haven’t discussed it, yet.”
“Well, I’m all for them,” he replied.
She leaned around his shoulder and asked with a laugh, “That’s it?”
“What else is there? I guess we could talk about when, but as far as we know that ship could have already sailed.”
“What? Oh, you’re right.”
“Why? Do you not want kids?”
“I do. I just—should we have talked about this before now?”
He turned around to face her and took her hands in his. “I want kids. And if we started one last night or this morning, that’s fine with me. If it’s a while later, that’s fine, too. We’re married for the rest of our lives, you know, so we don’t have to hurry if you don’t want to. But if there’s one born in nine months, I’ll be bouncing off the walls.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say and so she kissed him. The kiss lingered on and on until there’s not much more that needs to be said about the afternoon.
"I was thinking about Susan today while I worked on Gummersin's car." It was Monday, their “honeymoon” officially having lasted one day. They had plans for a longer one, but that was somewhere down the road.
"Really?" Bronwyn asked, hoping there wasn't anything in her voice.
Not hearing anything in her voice, Jason continued, "I was wondering about, well, all of this." He waved the wrench in a way that, roughly, signified the whole world. "Something happened in the past that rewrote the present, right? Kingdoms fell and all that.
"But some things stayed almost the same, but with little differences. Ernie Pike is basically the same good, friendly Methodist he always was, except that now he doesn't know how to work on cars anymore. Somehow he never learned. Abraham Lincoln was apparently the same man, but different circumstances got him killed.
"Anyway, I was thinking about Susan just because I knew her the best. So I was wondering, what could have happened in the past to change her? It's not just that her personality changed. You might could argue that that's because she grew up in a different environment than my Susan. They grew up in different worlds that, somehow, made my Susan a strong Christian woman and this Susan—whatever she is—"
"She's not that bad. She just, made some mistakes."
"I know," Jason nodded. "That's what I'm saying. All that might could be explained by environment. But what I don't get is how the two Susans could look alike and sound alike and walk alike—which probably means they both had—have—the same parents—so how come one gets cancer and the other doesn't?"
At Bronwyn's shrug, he corrected, "I'm not really sure I'm asking the question right. What I'm saying is, something happened that rewrote the world, right? So, um," he put his head down on the fender of the car for a moment, then raised it up and said, "The doctors said Susan's cancer could have been a genetic thing. Not that she got cancer from her genes—I don't think that's possible—but she was genetically more susceptible to cancer than most other women. So, does this Susan have the same genetic predisposition and has just never been in contact with the right circumstances to get cancer? or did this Susan not get that gene? Maybe my Susan had a one in a thousand chance to get cancer and this one has the same chance but somehow was part of the other nine hundred and nintety-nine.
"I was just wondering if six generations ago on Susan's mother's side in our old world Susan's ancestor married a guy named Niles but here in this world that same ancestor married Stan? Maybe everything else in her family tree is exactly the same except for that one union and either Stan provided enough strength to withstand the cancer or Niles provided the gene that was the weak link.
"Something that was weird—maybe it's what made me think of all this—is last night when you got sick. When Susan jumped out of the car and went to help you like she did, that was just like something my Susan would have done. I mean exactly. I can remember when she was in the hospital and used to still want to help other patients even then. Even though she could barely stand up.”
“Jason?” Bronwyn asked timidly, “Are you still in love with Susan?”
He looked up, realizing for the first time the fears that what he had been saying had put into her mind. He quickly wiped off his hands and took his new wife into his arms. Holding her close, he said, “I love you. There will always be a part of me that’s in love with . . . my Susan. Not this one. This one’s more like meeting Susan’s sister.” He looked at Bronwyn and said, “Please, don’t ever think for even a moment that I could ever leave you or would ever be unfaithful to you. I love you.”
After a long hug and a lengthy kiss, he finally let go and went back to the car he was working on. He hesitated, but said, “So I'm back to my original question: how does so much change and so much stay the same? Doesn't it seem like everything should have changed?"
"Everything? What do you mean?"
"Why is this still Haskell? Why is there an Ernie Pike? With all the changes in this world, how did his parents meet? Say I go back in time two hundred years ago and kill Ernie's ancestor. Not only have I removed him, I've removed everyone in the Pike family for two hundred years. What would that change? Several towns? Maybe some votes here and there. Some big politician that was distantly related never gets born. So how is anything the same?"
"Providence?" she shrugged.
He nodded and went back to thi
nking. It was a bit later that he smiled wry and commented, "I've got to tell you, though: to look over there and see Susan helping you . . . it was like seeing my . . . old wife with my new wife." He held up a hand to stay any comment, "I know she's not Susan. Not the one I knew. Still, for a brief time, it was a really strange vision. Then when you two hugged just before we went upstairs to, well, you know . . . that was—I think the word is surreal."
"I wish I had met her. Your Susan, I mean. Of course, if she were still alive we wouldn't be married so I wouldn't like that. But, here's an interesting thought," Bronwyn put forth, "What if Susan—your Susan—hadn't died? What if she had somehow been on the Comal 42 that day and landed here in Haskell with you? What do you think would happen if your Susan met this Susan?"
He thought a moment, then said, "Probably just look at each other and say, 'How weird, we look alike.'" He looked up at her from the engine and asked, "What if you meet another Bronwyn?"
"Hmm?"
"Ernie Pike's still here. Susan's here. Mrs. Pritchart. The White boys. The Pace family. What will you do if you run into another Bronwyn Dalmouth someday? For that matter, what will I do if I run into another Jason Kerrigan? Of course, he might not even be named Jason Kerrigan."
"What do you mean by that? Why wouldn't he be?"
"My father was close to fifty when I was born. My mother was over forty. They never told me where they came from or what they had done with the first half-centuries of their lives. For all I know, Dad was running from something and wound up in Paint Creek. Maybe whatever he was running from then isn't a big deal in this world. My mother once dropped a hint that Kerrigan wasn't his birth name, but she never elaborated. Maybe he's comfortably alive somewhere today. How could I find him if I don't know what his real name was? Mom said I was named for a good friend of hers. Maybe she never met that Jason in this world so the other me that's out there is named Fred Kerrigan—or Fred Jones or something else? Circumstances being different in this world, maybe my parents never met at all. Maybe yours didn't."
The Legend of Garison Fitch (Book 3): Lost Time Page 24