Sarah leaned her head out from the opening in the bathroom. “Good morning, Mr. Hill. You ready to get started? It’s a wonderful morning. What do you want for breakfast?”
She’s bubbly this morning, Mike thought, and quickly said, “Pancakes,” his nightmare now a distant memory.
“We need to get the house decorated for the party, Michael.” She said, popping in and out of the bathroom.
Mike got up from the bed, scratched his head and walked to her. “I love the sound of my name when you say it. Don’t ever stop saying it that way.”
“I love you, Michael,” she purred and leaned in for a kiss. “I want to be a good wife to you.”
“You are.”
“Good. I do love you so,” Sarah whispered in his ear. Her perfume smelled so good, he smiled.
“Life can’t get any better than this,” he said, and kissed her on her soft, sinuous lips. Her lips felt like fine velvet.
She pushed him out of the bathroom and closed the door. Mike smiled and shuffled to the hallway and down to the hall bathroom. Then he started the same ritual he always followed when getting ready for the day.
As he finished grooming in the mirror, he smiled and thought of Sarah. “You are one lucky guy—yes, you are.”
***
Sarah finished up and started down the large oak staircase that arched a quarter-circle to the first floor. She walked into the kitchen and began gathering her pots and pans.
She took the pancake mix from the cabinet and started to reminisce. Remember how long it took... the mess it used to make with flour and eggs... My mother spent most of the day in the kitchen... It can’t get any easier than this. It’s like magic. She started the morning coffee with a smile, but while preparing the morning breakfast, Sarah’s thoughts turned dark.
***
She had been orphaned at 19. Before the war started, the townsfolk of Gettysburg discovered that her mother and father practiced the art of Wicca. They accused them of being witches and did all they could to run them out of town.
Sarah’s father moved the family to where he grew up, his family’s farm. They moved into a small house in Pitzer Woods. Father thought that if they were far enough from town, that they would be safe to practice their religion.
Then the war started and the town’s attitudes changed for the worse. Sarah’s father didn’t know just how hostile they had become. One day, when her mother went into town for groceries, she never came home. Her body was found a few feet into the woods, next to the road leading home. She had been murdered. Someone had shot her.
Sarah’s father buried her in his family’s plot. A few days later, he went into town to see what the sheriff was going to do about it. His body was found the next day in a back alley. He had been shot, also. Sarah had him buried next to her mother.
Alone and with nowhere to turn, Sarah became a nurse volunteer in nearby Spring Grove Township, where no one knew her and nobody was out to kill her. She helped out in any capacity she could. During the first year of the war, she joined the Sanitary Commission and followed the army to the battlefields. She helped the wounded whenever she could. She and the others became known as the “Angels of the Battlefield.”
***
While getting dressed, Mike could smell the coffee brewing downstairs in the kitchen.
“Have you seen my white shirt?” he yelled down the steps.
That snapped Sarah out of her melancholy. “Yes, it’s hanging on the line outside.”
“Why?”
“Because it smelled,” Sarah said.
He finished up and got another shirt and joined her in the kitchen.
“The smell of pancakes and coffee in the morning is great,” Mike said.
“Thank you, Michael,” she said.
“Why don’t you use the new Maytag dryer I bought you?”
“Because... I don’t mind the washing machine, but I like to hang the clothes out on the line to give them that fresh-air smell.”
“That’s why they invented dryer towels. Just toss one in the dryer and bam—you have the smell of fresh air.”
“I’m comfortable with the way my mother taught me. I don’t want to figure out how to use the darn thing.”
“You figured out the washing machine,” Mike said.
“It made washing so easy. I guess I wanted to learn that.”
“What, the dryer isn’t easy?”
“It’s just something else to learn. Which buttons I have to push. Just as easy to hang them on the line. Never mind, read your paper.”
Mike smiled and began to read the morning papers.
“Now this is crazy. I’ve been trying to check this this guy out for months, and now I read this in the paper.”
“What’s that?” Sarah asked.
“Our new President, Heinz A. Ludwig, is the grandson of Adolf Hitler.”
“And who is Adolf Hitler?”
“The World War II German dictator.”
“I’m not up on history. You’ll need to explain.”
“Well, here’s what the paper has to say: ‘After Hitler won the war, he made the world a better place.’ Sure, the homicidal maniac is a wonderful man. Unbelievable.”
“Okay.” Sarah waited for Mike to explain.
“I’ve been hearing rumors that the Confederate Congress, at the House of Lords, are considering passing a resolution to make, April 20th a national holiday. They actually want to celebrate Hitler’s birthday. Don’t these assholes know what a monster he was?”
“No cussing in this house,” Sarah warned.
Mike smiled and looked into the newspaper after being scolded. “Here’s some good news. The world hasn’t had a real war since World War II.”
“Now that I like. The world is at peace,” Sarah said.
Mike reads on. “That’s why the Congress wants to make Hitler’s birthday a national holiday. How fast the world forgets how the madman got us here.”
Sarah placed the plate of pancakes in front of Mike. He put down the paper as she joined him at the table. “You had another nightmare last night,” Sarah said.
“How did you know?”
“I felt it.”
“Really?”
“I had one too,” Sarah said.
“Tell me about it.”
“Not much to tell, really. Just that I had to make a choice, but I can’t remember what the choices were.”
“I thought you gave up your powers?”
“Witchcraft is much like art or muscle tone. One must practice it regularly. Sort of a use-it or lose-it thing, but not all at once.”
“Is that why you can still feel me at times?” Mike asked.
“Yes, we have a special connection.”
“Love?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“If you lose your power, is there a way to get it back?” Mike asked.
“There is an elixir my mother told me about. She said if I ever lost my powers, I could get them back, but also...”
“But what? I hate ‘buts.’”
“The elixir is a poison, and I could die.”
“Holy shit.” Mike’s hairs stood up on the back of his neck. “Has anyone ever done that?”
“Not that I know of.”
“So it could kill you?”
“Maybe, but my mother always said, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
“I don’t care. Here’s rule number one: no drinking elixirs.”
“My husband has spoken.” Sarah smiled. “Enough of this talk. Let’s get this house shipshape.”
“This new timeline is nice, isn’t it Sarah? My family is rich and part of the government. We’re married and buying this home. We are truly blessed to be in this timeline.”
“Yes, Michael. I love this house and the world we live in.”
“You know, since I’m now a big shot in the House of Lords, we should hire servants.”
“You know I disapprove of slavery.”
“Jesus, Sarah, th
ey’re not slaves. They’re well-paid servants.”
“I don’t care. Besides, I like doing the chores.”
“This is a very big house, maybe you should use your witchcraft to do the chores and decorate. After that story, maybe you shouldn’t give up your witchcraft.”
With deliberate slowness, so that Mike would understand, she said, “After what I put us through, time travel and the like, I don’t want to be a witch. I don’t want to practice the craft. I just want to be a good wife to you. Is that clear, Michael?” Her tone was icy and she wanted to take her words back as soon as they left her mouth.
A chill ran down Mike’s back. He knew she meant what she said. “Sorry, I won’t bring it up again.”
“Besides, who needs witchcraft in the 21st century? Everything is like magic. Push a button for ice. Flip a switch for cold air.”
“That’s called air-conditioning, honey.”
“Talk to your phone and get the answers to all the questions in the world. That’s magic if I ever saw it.”
“Yep, magic. That’s what it is.” Mike smiled.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
Mike returned to reading the newspaper. He turned to the crime blotter. It had one incident, a burglary. “Not much crime these days, either.”
“The crime is how fast those strange buggies drive down our road.” Sarah’s tone was more pleasant.
“Yes, cars are faster than horses,” Mike joked.
“Very funny,” she said. “After breakfast we’ll start decorating the outside.”
“Okay, honey, anything you say.”
Sarah was relieved that he took her earlier comments about witchcraft well. “Have you heard from Ray? He hasn’t responded to our invitation. Hope he’s not in any trouble.”
“I hope not. We have a lot to talk about when they get here.” Mike thought for a moment, then brushed it off. “Nah, he’s okay.” He went back to eating. “These are the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”
“Are they now?” Sarah said.
“Oh, yes, makes my mouth water.” A big smile went across his face.
They sat staring into each other’s deep blue eyes. They enjoyed their contest of who would blink first. Sarah smiled and blinked. Pleased, Mike smiled and went back to eating.
“After breakfast, we’ll have to get ready for Saturday’s party,” Mike said.
“We have to get the house ready for Thursday night when Gordon and his wife get here,” Sarah corrected.
“Don’t forget Ray. I told him about Thursday night too.”
“Yes, we have a lot to talk about,” Sarah said.
They finished breakfast, then went hand-in-hand to get started on the decorations. They hung Confederate flag banners on the porch railings.
“They maintained the look of the old battle flag. They still look good. This is going to be a great party,” Mike said.
He picked her up and swung her around in his arms. They laughed and played. He put her down and she kissed him. “It will be good to see Gordon and Ray again,” she said, her eyes gleaming.
“Yes, it will.” Mike’s contentment shined on his face that lovely summer day.
On a hill overlooking their home sat a black Ford with dark tinted windows - the engine running.
CHAPTER FOUR
Thursday, Night, July 3, 2014
It was 9 P.M., on the outskirts of Atlanta, when a black limousine came up the brick driveway lined in white lights. The limo pulled up to a two-and-a-half story Colonial mansion decorated with Confederate flags and red, white, and blue lights that outlined the gables and the huge, wraparound porch.
Four prominent chimneys dressed the four sides of the house. Gordon and Jenny sat in the limo’s back seat. Gordon looked out the window in amazement at his friend’s good fortune. Gordon had on tan khaki shorts and a flowered short-sleeve shirt. Jenny wore her blue-and-white summer dress. They both wore sandals.
Gordon looked over at Jenny with concern. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” she said in an uneasy tone.
“About seeing them, or about what I might say?”
“Both.”
Gordon moved on to a lighter topic. “When we got back to this timeline, Mike found out that his family was not only rich, but they were members of the ruling class. Mike, being a member of the House of Lords, is a modern-day nobleman.”
“Simply amazing,” Jenny said, with a touch of mockery.
“Mike and I no longer lived in Ohio. Mike’s family lived in Atlanta while mine lived in Baltimore. Ray was the only one still in Bloomfield.”
“That’s nice. Special even,” Jenny lampooned.
“You still don’t believe Mike, Ray, and I, traveled back in time?”
“Uhhh, let me think... No!” she said.
“You must think I’m insane?”
“Yup.”
“Then why do you stay with me?”
“You tickle my fancy,” Jenny said.
“I do, huh?” He grabbed her and started tickling her. Jenny squirmed in the back seat. “Stop!” She giggled.
They rolled around the backseat like children.
“You know you love me,” he said playfully.
“I know one thing—with your imagination, you should write a book.”
The limo’s rear door opened, and the driver looked at them like they were two high school kids who couldn’t keep their hands off one another. Jenny straightened her dress. Gordon nodded to the driver, who had a grin on his face.
Gordon skimmed out and turned with his arm outstretched to take Jenny’s hand. She sashayed out of the vehicle like a princess, her long flowing auburn hair lying beautifully on her shoulders.
“You’re gorgeous,” Gordon cooed.
She smiled as they walked hand in hand to the front door. There was the aroma of pit beef. Muffled classic rock music sounded from inside. Gordon rang the bell. They waited in anticipation. When the door opened, the music got clear, and there stood Sarah, in a white halter top tied in back. She wore Capri blue jeans and sandals.
“Welcome to our home.”
Gordon was so excited he gave Sarah a big hug. While still in Gordon’s embrace, Sarah acknowledged Jenny’s presence with a wink of her eye.
The decorations were beautiful. Red, white, and blue C.S.A. banners were everywhere, even up the large oak staircase.
Gordon saw Mike standing right behind Sarah. Mike had on tan shorts and a blue golf shirt. Gordon let go of Sarah and went to Mike and gave him a big hug. “Damn good to see you, Mike.”
“Damn good to see you too, Gordy.”
“Thanks for the limo ride.”
“My pleasure. Long time, no see, bro. By the way, have you any news of Ray?”
“Not for a while. Not since he was forced to leave the Fire Department.”
“You know he blames me for making him a cripple when I forced him to make that charge,” Mike explained.
“Pickett’s Charge? It’s not your fault.” Gordon’s tone was guarded as he looked over at Jenny talking to Sarah.
Mike noticed his concern. “She doesn’t believe, does she?”
“Nah, she needs scientific evidence.”
Mike grabbed Gordon again and gave him a one-armed hug. “She doesn’t need to know,” he said with compassion. “So what do you think of our new history?”
“I had hoped that the C.S.A. and the U.S.A. would have reunited and that we would have become the world’s superpower, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” Gordon said.
“Crazy to think, when the Libertarian Party came into power, that our beloved C.S.A. would become isolationist and that Germany would win the Second World War,” Mike said.
“How about our fears of a one-world government coming true?” Gordon clowned.
“Can you believe that?” Mike laughed. “In 1953, the nations of the world elected a one-world government. We are now a United Earth!”
“Welcome to Star-Trek. Mike, I’ve
been meaning to ask you about the ISS.”
“The International Secret Service?”
“Who the hell are they and what’s their job?”
“The job of the ISS is to eliminate all threats to the security of the planet. And from what I can ascertain, they did a fine job. No more wars and very little crime,” Mike said.
“Interesting. But they are the police force of a totalitarian government,” Gordon said.
“Yes, but after all these years, they became a much more tolerant government.”
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll see who it is,” Sarah offered.
Sarah opened the door and there stood a grungy character with a long, full, reddish-brown beard. He was thin and smelled of whiskey.
CHAPTER FIVE
Thursday, 9:31 P.M. July 3, 2014
“Can I come in?” the strange man asked coldly. He wore cut-off jeans and a gray t-shirt.
Sarah hesitated, then said in disbelief, “Ray?”
“In the flesh.”
“Sure, Ray, good to see you. Mike will be thrilled.”
“Ray, that you?” Mike called out.
“Yes, it’s me. You did send me an invitation?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure you’d come.”
Ray limped inside. “What, and miss the party of our new Independence Day?” In a bitter tone, he added, “You gonna offer me a drink or what?”
“You lost weight, Ray. You look good. What would you like?” Mike asked.
“Thanks, I think. Let’s see, a big shot like you, how about a National Bohemian? Yes, that’s what I want, a Natty Boh.”
“Just so happens I received a case from Baltimore today. I was betting on you, and knew it was your favorite beer.”
Sarah had anticipated Ray’s request, so when Ray walked into the house, Sarah handed him a Natty Boh.
Ray looked at her in bewilderment.
“How’d you do that?” Then they all watched him suck it down like water.
“So, what have you been doing with yourself?” Mike asked.
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