by Edward Gates
The two stared at each other without a word. The silence dragged on.
Max leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. He shook his head. “There ain’t gonna be no trial. I got connections with too many people. I want you to let them loose. I need them here.”
“There’ll be a trial. There were too many witnesses for the circuit judge to ignore.” Charlie stood and walked to the desk. “You won’t be able to stop this one, Max, no matter what you pay. You might be able to affect their sentence, but those boys will go to prison… or hang. The judge won’t have a choice in this one.” Charlie stared at Max.
Max stood so they could be eye-level. “Who the hell do you think you are, comin’ in here tellin’ me what I can and can’t do? I put you in that job and, by God, I can take you out of it. You do what I tell ya and you don’t ask no questions.”
Max was pulling rank, but Charlie remembered Dave’s words that the first one to get emotional loses the battle. He smiled. “What are you so upset about, Max? You wanted that meeting stopped. I stopped it. When I got there, the Mitchells were facing a mob. I stopped that, too.” He pointed at the older man. “You messed things up when you told the Mitchell brothers to ambush the sheriff.”
Max stepped back and cleared his throat. “I never told them to do that.”
“Those goons don’t have enough sense to make that call on their own.” Charlie stepped closer to Max. “Somebody told them what to do. You knew I’d tell Hart about the meeting and you knew he’d go there.”
Max appeared flustered. His face reddened. “You’re a son-of-a-bitch, Turlock!”
“If you want my badge, take it!” Charlie hollered back. “I don’t need this. I can go anywhere and do anything I want to.”
He suddenly stood straight up and stepped back, astonished by his own remark. It was as if a giant spotlight turned on inside his head to reveal a whole new world in his mind. He smiled with the comprehension of his own emotional outburst. He really could go anywhere and do anything. Max was saying something, but Charlie wasn’t listening. He could just walk away from all of this and let the past roll on as it was recorded. He had never thought of his time belt on such a grand scale before. He thought he was destined to remain here for the rest of his life. But that’s not what his father had told him. All his father had said was that he couldn’t come back. There was no stipulation on where he had to stay.
Max was staring at him. “Are you all right, boy?”
Charlie smiled back. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t get what you just said.”
Max sat back down. “What I was saying is that I don’t want your badge.” He paused for a moment. “I want you right where I put you. In fact, I want you to act as the sheriff while Hart heals up.”
“I can’t do that,” Charlie replied. “I won’t be the sheriff. Why not put O’Shea in that job? He’s got the background and a lot of experience. He’d make a perfect sheriff.”
“I don’t want O’Shea. I want you.”
Charlie starred at Max for a moment. “You want someone there who you can control. You can’t control O’Shea, can you? He impresses me as someone who can’t be bought.”
Max leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. “You got this all figured out, don’t you, boy?”
Charlie bristled but kept his emotions in check. “I tell you what, Max. Have the council make O’Shea the temporary sheriff, and you come to me if you want something done. I’ll work around O’Shea.”
Max nodded. “All right. If that’s the way you want it, I’ll do that.” He leaned forward and pointed his finger at the deputy. “But you better pay attention to what I ask of you from now on. That stunt last night wasn’t what I wanted.”
Charlie walked to the door. “I don’t think it was what anybody wanted.”
“Hold on a minute. I got another question for you,” Max barked.
Charlie stopped and turned around to face him.
“Last night you said this war will go down in history as the bloodiest war ever. That was a pretty bold statement. What’d you mean by that?”
Charlie felt cold chills crawl up his spine. He knew he had slipped open a window into his real identity with that outburst last night. He had hoped no one noticed. Apparently, Max did.
“I didn’t mean nothing by it, Max. I despise this war. The casualty lists in these battles are staggering. It was just a stupid statement I blurted out in anger. I need to learn to control my words when I get emotional.” He forced a crooked smile.
“You’re right. Talk like that can get you in big trouble. A lot of people around here are glad this war is going on. Some feel it should have happened years ago. So just watch what you say.”
Charlie nodded and walked to the door, glad that was all that came from his slip-of-the-tongue. He opened the door and stopped. Max wasn’t there when I said that! He looked back at Max and then closed the door. He slowly walked back to Max’s desk.
Max looked up at him. “You forget something?”
“How’d you know what I said last night?” Charlie demanded. “I said that to that reverend. You weren’t there. In fact, no one was around us when I said those things. How’d you know I said that?”
Max looked away from Charlie as if he was searching for an answer. Charlie didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“You know Reverend Holloway, don’t you?” Charlie stepped back from the desk. Max stayed silent. “Damn it! I should have known. Hart was right. You didn’t want that meeting stopped. You wanted a riot and you brought Holloway here to start one. Damn it! Damn you! I guess I really did ruin your plans after all, didn’t I?”
Max stood up. “You’re damn right you did! Get out of here, Turlock. Just remember who put you in that job. I run things here! I do! You remember that.”
“Well, I doubt you’ll ever let me forget it.”
Charlie stormed out of Max’s office. He walked out of the warehouse and along the waterfront, too angry to think straight. He watched the busy traffic at the river landing, with cargo being transferred to and from waiting riverboats. The noise of the activity on the dock and the sight of the river slowly rolling by helped his fury drift away.
He sat on a stone dock wall and just watched the people and the boats. It all looked so normal to him, like he had been here his entire life. It was hard for him to believe that he hadn’t even been here a year yet. Less than a year ago he was living in a technologically advanced civilization with all the luxuries of life just a command or push-button away. He tried, but couldn’t recall Angel’s face. He remembered his apartment and his work station but couldn’t recall his neighbors or co-workers. That life was becoming a distant fading memory.
All his experiences these past ten months had been nothing but a crash course in survival skills in the 1800’s. There hadn’t been a moment for him to relax and just enjoy this life. The constant struggle and turmoil put his nerves constantly on edge. Maybe that’s the way life was in this time. He toyed with the idea of jumping to another historical time, but after weighing the pros and cons dismissed that thought. Wherever, or whenever, he went, he would have to start all over, learning the survival skills and the way of life for that particular era. No, he was acclimated to these times and had become very comfortable here. This era was the best fit for him.
Charlie thought about all the places he’d been and the people he’d met. He would’ve liked to go back and visit with Clemens and see how tall Jed had gotten in a year. After a year’s worth of fighting in Virginia, though, he wondered whether Clemens’s farm was even still there. He smiled when he thought about the Widow Hawkins in Clarksville. Surely her period of mourning would be over by now; he wondered what she would look like in something other than black. He thought about Ed and Dave and their lifestyle of solitude. At first, he wondered why they chose to live away from people. They came out of their exile when they chose to, not when someone else wanted them to. Their life was theirs and they were the only ones
controlling it. Charlie suddenly envied them.
He wanted to find Texas Jack Cable. Since he had met Texas Jack, the thought of becoming a Ranger had stayed in the back of his mind, like a calling. But Texas Jack was somewhere off in the war; there was no telling where he was or even if he was still alive.
This war! Charlie hated this war. He was sick of having its shadow hanging over everything he did and every decision he made. He wished it was over and done with. He couldn’t bear the thought of waiting two more years for the Appomattox Court House treaty to be signed.
Charlie stood up suddenly and smiled. Maybe he didn’t have to.
55
Exit Plan
Charlie felt liberated. He was completely in charge of his own destiny, a destiny that had to remain out of the history books. He left the waterfront and walked to Doctor Levine’s home office. On the way, he began formulating a plan of action that would allow him to leave Fort Smith without any conflict, and, more importantly, with no impact to recorded history.
After checking with the doctor and seeing that there was no change in Hart’s condition, Charlie returned to the sheriff’s office and relieved Deputy Bell. He stayed in the office for most of the day doing paperwork, cleaning up and reading. Sitting at Hart’s desk, he waited for Deputy O’Shea to arrive.
Michael O’Shea made his entrance shortly after the wall clock struck two. The ex-detective shouted a greeting, hung his bowler on a hat peg and sat in the chair across from Charlie.
“Ye don’t seem to be very busy here today,” O’Shea observed. “An’ ye don’t seem to be very happy, either.”
Charlie took a deep breath and let out an audible sigh. “We got a big problem, Mike. You, of course, know what happened to Hart last night.”
O’Shea nodded. “Aye. An’ we got the bastards what beat him so.”
“Yes, we did. But, he’s in bad shape.”
“How bad?”
“He may not make it. We’re going to need a new sheriff, at least until Hart returns… if he ever does.”
O’Shea didn’t answer.
“I recommended you to take over the job.”
“Well, now. I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You’re what this city needs, Mike. You got the experience and integrity to make this work. It’s not official, yet. But you can expect a visit from the mayor or a city councilman later today or tomorrow.”
“Will you be a-stayin’ on?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll be here… at least for a while.” Charlie stood and picked up his hat. “I wanted to tell you first so it wouldn’t be a complete surprise to you.”
“What about yer friend, Max? I’d be certain he’d be a-wantin’ ye for the sheriff’s job. Why don’t ye take it?”
Charlie smiled and nodded. “You’re right. He did want me for the job. I turned him down. There’s lots of reasons why, but mainly because you’re the best man for it. Not me.” He paused. “Don’t worry about Max. I’ll handle him whenever the occasion arises. Max works by intimidating people. You can’t let him threaten you.”
“Max don’t scare me none. I’m sure I can handle him and his cronies.”
“Besides, I got a funny feeling Max’s level of influence around here will start to diminish.”
“What d’ye mean by that?” O’Shea asked, appearing a little confused.
“I got some information that this little detachment of soldiers at the fort will be pulling out soon. When that happens, there’ll be nothing to prevent the Yankees from moving in here without firing a shot.”
O’Shea shook his head. “That’ll be a bad day, that will.”
“Actually, it’ll work out just fine. You’ll see. Just work with the army magistrate and you’ll be fine.” Charlie put on his hat. “I’m going to walk around town for a while and then I’m going to go back to my room and lie down. I didn’t sleep much last night.” He stopped in the doorway and turned back to Deputy O’Shea. “Believe me. You’re going to make a great sheriff. Down the road I’m going to be moving on. But I promise I’ll give you plenty of notice before I go.”
Charlie visited with some of the business owners on his way back to his room. He stopped at Ben Fricker’s store for a few necessities and noticed a newspaper that was on the counter. The headline taunted: GOLD FEVER! The article was about all the recent gold strikes in California, Montana, Idaho, Arizona and other states. Charlie picked up the paper and was reading the article when Ben approached.
“Thinking on heading out to join the miners?”
Charlie looked up from the paper and grinned at Ben. “I’d starve to death,” he snickered. “I don’t know the first thing about mining. And I don’t want to know.”
He paid for his supplies and went upstairs to his room. He counted his money and realized his cash was dwindling. He started to think of ways of sustaining an existence in this era. He didn’t mind working, but the pay scales were not regulated. An employer could pay his employees whatever meager salary he wanted, whenever he wanted, and work them as long and as hard as he wanted.
How am I going to make money to live on without breaking my back? He thought about the newspaper article and it dawned on him that, with the time belt, he had the ability to find out where every gold strike, silver strike, and copper strike would be for the next century. Maybe he could get there first. It would be easy for him to find out where and when Rockefeller would find oil, where all the future routes of Carnegie’s railroads would go, where every town would spring up. He smiled. With a little planning and maybe an alias, he could capitalize on land and mines where all these discoveries would be made. He had a pretty good idea of what inventions would come along and when. He’d have to devise a plan where he could make enough profit to pad his bank account but not become wealthy; rich people ended up in newspapers and history books.
Charlie pulled the time belt from the valise and set it on the dresser. He fantasized about how he could cash in on all the discoveries and inventions that were still to come. His thoughts gradually rolled over to the people he’d met since he’s been here. He’d like to see them again.
He lay back on the bed and began to make a mental list of the places and people he’d like to visit. Just as he had done with his trip to Little Rock, he could jump to anywhere he wanted and return to the moment just before he’d left. No one would ever notice he was gone.
He took comfort in knowing that he could leave at any time and go wherever he wanted. Charlie knew he would have to leave Fort Smith and get away before he and Max got into a disagreement that could change history.
He slipped into a sweet late afternoon nap. When the time comes, I will pack up and jump away for good.
56
Visit
Charlie woke in the middle of the night. The only light in the room came from a blue sliver of moonlight that snuck in through a tear in the paper window shade. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He wasn’t sure of the time, but the absence of noise from outside told him it was very early in the morning. He’d only wanted to take a short nap but ended up sleeping most of the night.
Charlie felt his way across the small room to his dresser and lit the lantern. The time belt was there where he left it. He pulled the shade aside and peered out the window. There was no movement and no sound. It was as if humanity disappeared. This would be the perfect time to make his jumps. No one would be around to see the flash or hear the loud electronic pop.
He put on the belt and turned it on. On the virtual display, he checked the archived history of his jumps and found the one that transported him away from Clemens’s farm. He selected those coordinates and set the date to August 9, 1867, two years following the war’s end. He set the time for five in the morning, just around sunrise. He initiated the jump and watched the counter descend, 4… 3… 2… Charlie turned off the belt. A hundred questions suddenly raced through his mind. Should I really do this? Will my visit affect history? What if they
don’t want to see me or don’t remember me? What if they’re gone? What if I find out something I don’t want to know?
Charlie sat on the bed. He had to reconsider his choices. The enthusiasm he felt about visiting Clemens and his family clouded his decision making. He never considered the effect, if any, it might have on their lives - or his, for that matter. Now that he had his own life in this era, maybe it would be best to let his past remain as it was.
He thought about his plans to visit the widowed Mrs. Hawkins. The more he thought about her, the more he realized that a visit to Clarksville could never take place. During the four plus weeks that he stayed in her boarding house, he had become captivated by her beauty, grace and Southern charm. He considered calling on her after her mourning period and possibly developing a relationship with her. But he realized that could never be. In fact, it became ever clearer to him that he could never have a serious lasting relationship with any woman. The impact it could have on future generations would be disastrous. An emptiness suddenly came over him as he realized that the only women he could ever be involved with would be the kind of ladies that worked in The Row… like Lyla.
Clemens, on the other hand, was a different story. Here was a kind man who had literally saved his life by taking him into his family and teaching him basic skills. Charlie smiled at the memories of his time with Jed and Clemens. He missed them. They wanted him to stay, but he knew he had to leave. He hated the abruptness with which he left them. He never properly thanked them for all they did for him.
He made his decision. Right or wrong, he was going to visit Clemens. He stood, turned on the belt and resumed the jump.
Charlie woke in a forest alongside the stream that ran behind Clemens’s farm and blacksmith barn. He sat still and listened. The only sound was water flowing over the rocks. He stood and looked around in the gray morning light. He had walked these woods many times with Jed while they hunted and set traps. As Charlie started his trek toward the farmhouse and barn, the sky lightened with the first streaks of sunlight. The forest slowly came alive with the birds and animals announcing a new day and making their morning calls. However, there was still no sound coming from Clemens’s farm. Charlie was getting uneasy. Usually by daybreak, there was a lot of early-morning commotion on the farm. But now, there was nothing.