by Larry Hunt
Chapter Thirty-Seven
GOING BACK TO TEXAS
Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of blue light. Forrest wondered if this were similar to Grandpa’s experience; it reminded him of a thousand flashes of blue lightening going off at the same time. That was the last thing he saw - he blacked out. How long he was out he did not know. When he awoke the bright light had diminished, the tingling sensation had stopped, and the smoke or fog was beginning to dissipate from the porthole. And the music... the soft music... bagpipes... ‘Amazing Grace’. He thought, I don’t believe I have ever heard that spiritual hymn played so beautifully.
As his mind began to clear Forrest realizing he had heard all of this before. Forrest thought, Grandpa Scarburg – this was exactly the way he described his ‘flight’. Forrest and Olive Marie’s experience was similar except for one thing they wore protective laser goggles. Since Grandpa Scarburg experienced colorblindness on his ‘jump’ Forrest reasoned laser goggles might, somehow, prevent this from happening, and it did. “Olive Marie! Olive Marie! Wake up, Sis can you hear me,” Forrest said as he removed her laser goggles. She was turning her head slightly, so he knew she was still alive. “Wake up!” he yelled again. She slowly opened her eyes.
“What happened? I must have dozed off. The time-traveling thing did not work did it?”
“I don’t know Olive, let’s get outside and see.” Forrest wished he had been paying more attention to his grandpa when he was showing his time-traveling pictures and describing his experiences. He did remember Grandpa Scarburg said he landed in a cow pasture north of Dallas. Forrest was afraid to look out – fearing they could be in that swamp in Africa, he asked hesitantly, “You ready?”
Before waiting for Olive Marie to answer he pressed the ‘OPEN’ button to allow the hatch to swing out. Slowly moving to the opening, he was reluctant to gaze out onto his surroundings. What was he going to see? What was out there? He could delay the inevitable no longer he summoned up his courage and looked.
As they peered out they were pleasantly surprised; they were looking out on grass - a sea of dead grass and live cows. “Grandpa said he landed in a cow pasture.” Forrest remarked to Olive Marie. He could tell Pegasus landed on flat ground, its final landing spot was not atop the large tree stump their Grandpa had to deal with. Yep, this must the same place for sure! They were not resting on the same tree stump, they were nestled right beside it! Speaking again, “If we can see an old barn off in the distance and a grove of trees somewhere behind it, some old oil wells, a pond and a wide expanse of trees in the opposite direction, then we would know, for sure, we landed in the right place. We must, surely, be in Grandpa’s Texas cow pasture!!”
THE COW PASTURE
Forrest and Olive Marie managed to get out of Pegasus using the portable ladder. Standing in the pasture of brown grass, they could not see a grove of trees, or an old barn. Is it November here? The trees off in the distance seem bare of leaves. The grass was brown and dead, it was blustery cold, and a few flakes of snow were beginning to drift down from the threatening dark clouds overhead. Glancing upwards, the sky appeared menacing - there seemed to be a good chance a snowstorm was on its way. A quick survey of the pasture revealed wherever they had landed, it surely wasn’t summer here. Does it snow in Texas? At the time, Forrest wasn’t exactly sure. “Olive let’s go around to the other side of Pegasus and see if we can spot any recognizable landmarks from there.”
“What are we looking for Forrest? Didn’t you say we should see some old, neglected oil wells, a grove of trees and a dilapidated barn? They are not here; we’re in the wrong place! Forrest what do we do now? I’m scared.”
“Calm down Olive Marie,” he said walking around to the opposite side of Pegasus. As he glanced off to the north a marvelous sight appeared to his searching eyes: a grove of trees, a number of oil wells, grazing cows and, best of all the old barn. Thank you Mike Watkins, thank you for not changing the landing coordinates, but... what is the date?
Forrest now could confirm he was in Grandpa Scarburg’s cow pasture. It obviously was winter, which made it likely it could be, possibly, November, but what was the day and year, now those were the mystery questions.
“No! No!” Forrest yelled at Olive Marie.
“What! What is it Forrest?”
“I do not have the Johnson folder... it is still inside Pegasus, and the hatch will close in five minutes not to reopen for twelve hours. How long have we have been outside?” Forrest began to run around the ‘craft’ just as the circular hatch, hissed and closed. Forrest stepped back, the air was filled with a crackling noise and the snow was cascading in a circular motion around the time machine like a mini-tornado. As he watched, the beautiful metallic Pegasus began to dim, the sound of the bagpipes began to fade, and as swiftly as Pegasus arrived it was now gone!
Forrest stood petrified, what was he to do without his manila folder of the Johnson facts. He was devastated, how could he have been that stupid. The lack of the folder was going to be a problem all right, but he seemed to have a much bigger immediate problem - he had forgotten his coat and left it inside Mike Watkins’s office back at the laboratory. Forrest had forgotten to get it before he entered Pegasus!
It was cold, and the sky was beginning to darken as the snow fell in large half-dollar sized flakes? Fortunately, Olive Marie had grabbed her warm coat as they scrambled through the exit hatch. She also had fur-lined gloves in her pocket.
Forrest was glad Olive Marie was bundled up, but what was he to do? Grandpa Scarburg said it was about four or five miles to Clem and Penelope Ruby’s ranch house - the Ponderosa. It was too cold to make a long journey without a coat – they were in a pickle!! Forrest knew they couldn’t stand out there in the blowing snow and wait to freeze to death. They had to find some shelter until the hatch reappeared, but where could they find a protective shelter? Why yes, now Forrest had a thought, the decrepit, old barn Grandpa had mentioned - a truck was parked inside.
THE BARN
“We have to get to the old barn Sis, maybe it will shelter us until the hatch reopens.” As they walked toward the barn shivering Forrest thought, why wasn’t I paying more attention to the small details as Grandpa told us about his time-travel to Texas. Olive Marie and I are here now; we sure could use some of his experience.
Forrest remembered Grandpa said the barn was old. He had not been exaggerating, dirt was old, and this thing was running a close second. He reached for the sliding door, would it open? He was afraid rather than sliding the door it might just tumble over on them both, but to his surprise, when he tugged on it, it moved. Forrest pushed on it, creating a small opening, barely enough for them to slip their bodies inside. There were no windows, but enough light came through the small door opening to see an old truck sitting in the hallway of the barn, covered in dust and bits of hay and other barn debris. The decrepit barn smelled of old hay, rot and mold. Even though, a strong scent of cow manure filled the air it was dry, and provided a barrier between the terrible biting north wind, snow and the two of them.
“Forrest, what about this old truck – do you suppose you can drive it?”
Forrest didn’t think so, but he did not want Olive to hear him say it. Without speaking, they walked over to the old truck. He could see it was a dirty, green, old Ford with a mounted toolbox, what year? The best he could come up with was just to put the year as ‘ancient’.
He grabbed the door handle on the driver’s side... wow! He thought his fingers were going to stick to the metal. Stick like the little kid who applied his tongue to the flagpole, but seriously it was cold, although not that cold. Opening the door, he noticed something lying on the seat. Surprised Forrest pulled in out into the light. He recognized it as an old work coat and inside the pockets he found a pair of gloves. Wasn’t much, but a lot more than he had when he first got inside this old, weather-beaten barn.
Forrest had finished slipping his nearly frozen fingers down deep into the gloves when Olive Marie
pointed out the key was still in the Ford’s ignition. Funny thing though it was sticking out of the dash and not the steering column, Forrest had to see if it would crank.
He slipped in behind the steering wheel. Man, plastic seats are cold! Funny what you think of, he thought, did they even make plastic when Detroit built this truck? “Olive Marie where is ‘Drive” on this thing?”
“Forrest, you are asking me? Honestly, I’ve never even seen a truck this old, much less been inside one!”
He gazed at the dash in front. Forrest saw a large round dial surrounded with numbers, numbers obviously indicating they were part of the speedometer. Mounted close to the speedometer were an oil gauge, a fuel gauge, a temperature gauge and one reading ‘AMP’. This one must be for the battery, he reasoned. Forrest had always been used to the modern automobile digital numbers on his dash console, those mechanical gauges were as foreign to him as the truck was old. He could see there were no indicators for “D”, “P”, “R” or anything else; however, there was the long metal gearshift sticking out of the floor right where his console gearshift would be on his Camaro. He questioned Olive Marie, “Olive, do you actually suppose we can drive this truck? This thing is a stick shift!”
“Forrest, please just do whatever you have to do, you know I can’t tell you anything about this truck! I don’t even know anything about my own car at home.” She added quickly, “Which, by-the-way, I probably will never see again.”
Oh well, he thought, I know the gearshift sticking out of the floor is used to change the gears, I’ll figure out just how in a minute. He turned the key just a tad, and heard a motor under the hood began to grind. Surely this had to be a good thing, he thought. The truck instantly lunged at least a couple of feet forward; he knew this was a bad thing. Whoa, he thought, slamming his foot hard on the brake.
“Darn it, Forrest you trying to kill us?”
Looking down at the floor he knew stick shifts had a brake and a clutch pedal; although, he had never actually driven one he knew along with the ‘whoa’ something had to be done with that clutch in the cranking and driving process.
He had ridden in cars of his friends that had stick shifts, he mostly knew how they worked, and had driven a couple before, but was not quite sure this old truck would be the same. Before turning the key again, he surmised it might be useful if he and Olive Marie familiarize themselves with those old Ford’s operating parts before they continued.
He saw the accelerator pedal. It was the same as the one on his car, check. And the brake, yeah, he knew how it worked. Forrest decided to place his left foot on the clutch pedal, but before he did he pushed hard with his right foot on the brake. Was he ever a sight - sitting there with both legs stretched out and both feet on the brake and clutch pedals, and both hands firmly grasping the big ole steering wheel? He knew he must have had a terrified look on his face, but Forrest didn’t want this old Ford running through the end of the barn! They needed the truck! Besides he didn’t want to kill himself or Olive Marie, but he must have been funny looking because he took a glance toward Olive and could see she had her hand over her mouth snickering.
“Forrest, my boyfriend Ryan’s car is a stick shift, and I have watched him drive it. He pushes the clutch then changes gears using this shifter thing.”
With both feet still pressing hard on the two pedals, and both hands firming gripping the steering wheel he said, “Okay, your driving lesson was good to know now turn the key on the dash while I hold on.” Olive grasped the key and turned. From under the hood Forrest heard that grinding motor sound again - that has to be the starter trying to turn this old, cold motor, he reasoned. Over it turned, once, twice and on the third time it sputtered. That was good; in fact, it was real good the truck did not lunge this time. It needed a bit of gas, but Forrest was afraid to lift his foot from the brake and push the accelerator, but he must. He moved his right foot and touched the gas pedal ever so slightly and quickly returned his foot to the brake – Olive turned the key again and the starter turned the engine a turn or two, and the old Ford came to life. They felt extremely proud of themselves as they sat there, in the old barn, on their frozen seat listening to the motor chug right along. It was a terrific feeling, but what were they to do now?
Now there were a lot of things Forrest didn’t know about old manual shift Ford trucks, but there was one thing he did know – he believed they had heaters. He could see the lever on the dash, which surely must be the heater control. He hoped it would turn on some life saving heat! With feet still holding hard against the two pedals, he asked Olive Marie to turn on the heater. As she moved the lever they both looked for the vents in the dash to feel the heat begin to flow. Looked is correct since there were no vents for them to see! What was the sensation Forrest felt at his feet? There it was, he felt a bit of warmth beginning to seep out from under the dash. It was warm air. The truck’s heater was beginning to provide the much-needed heat he and Olive Marie so badly needed.
All right, the fuel gauge indicated the tank was full (or was it broken?); it surely had enough to keep them warm for a few minutes. Now, since they weren’t freezing to death, he could ponder their next movements. Forrest did not know the time, the crystal on his wristwatch, was broken, and his watch had stopped running. Olive Marie did not even have a watch. Grandpa had not mentioned this phenomenon; however, he must assume he had arrived at the same time as Grandpa did. Thinking back, the time should be around 12:30 on December 20, 1963.
Wait a minute, Forrest thought, if Grandpa returned at 12:30, December 20 in 1963 and we are here at, I guess, 12:30 on the same date... how can this be possible. It can’t be! I know enough physics to realize two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. We may have traveled back in time, but space is space – something was wrong. Either Grandpa misspoke his arrival time or today wasn’t 12:30 on the 20th of November 1963!
Now Forrest began to doubt they were in the ‘right’ cow pasture, he wasn’t even sure they were in Texas. No! It had to be, how many pastures would have the grove of trees, the cows, the oil wells and this old barn with an ancient Ford truck sitting inside. He supposed it wasn’t beyond the realm of reason, but if this were not his Grandpa’s pasture it would be pushing coincidences to the limit.
All of a sudden he had a revelation! Forrest remembered his Grandpa had told about how he traveled from one Parallel Universe back forty-nine years and arrived in the cow pasture in another Parallel Universe. At 12:30 Friday Grandpa would change the Parallel Universe path of the Earth again. Is it possible there are dozens if not hundreds of Parallel Universes? Forrest thought. We may be in ‘C’ or ‘D’ or who knows which one. This Universe stuff was beginning to make his head hurt. He decided since he could not do anything about it, he would forget about it and continue with his original plan (whatever that was).
Regardless of where they arrived, the door on the time machine would not re-open for another twelve hours, he knew for certain this was correct. Forrest wondered how long it would take to walk to Clem and Penelope’s house. He had to do something because in exactly twenty-four hours from now Pegasus was going to return to the lab at SCAR headquarters. Wait a minute, he thought of something, Grandpa was SUPPOSED to leave Texas on Saturday December 23, 1963 twenty-four hours after his arrival. Mr. Rousseau messed with the setting on Grandpa’s gauges, and Grandpa ended up arriving on Wednesday November the 20th, so he had from Wednesday until Saturday to complete his mission. Although he left Texas on the 23rd, he came back into the meeting in Washington, D.C., on the 22nd of November. He changed Universes!!
This was the predicament Forrest and Olive Marie were in. They did not know how much time they had. What if Mr. Watkins had changed the return time? Forrest wished he had paid more attention to the ‘RETURN’ dial. That will be the first thing he would check when the hatch re-opens. Even assuming they were in Texas on Wednesday November the 20th, they only had one day to find out about the meeting with Vice President Johnson at Clint Mur
dock’s house. They had to be at the party Thursday night the 21st.
Sitting in the truck, the motor running, incredibly warm air poured out from the heater thawing their frozen bodies. Forrest wondered how he and Olive were going to spend the next twelve hours.
Olive exclaimed, “Forrest, I don’t know if I should thank you or not for letting me come with you, but I have just one question since we are here,” she emphasized waving her arms through the air. “Tell me again what are we doing in Texas? I know you said something about this Murdock fellow, but what are we hoping to accomplish?
The cab of the Ford had warmed to the point Olive Marie felt comfortable enough to engage in conversation, “Forrest, tell me more about this Mr. Murdock and Margaret White. “Do you seriously think this Margaret White woman was telling the truth, and President Johnson actually had something to do with the Kennedy assassination?”
“Sis it is not even known whether Margaret White was the girlfriend of President Johnson or not. All we have is her word. Even if she was his girlfriend, and was at a party at Clint Murdock’s estate the night before President Kennedy was assassinated, just her saying it does not prove President Lyndon Johnson was there nor had anything to do with the assassination.”
“Forrest, where in the devil did you find all this information?”
“From Kym Holmes.”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t believe you know her Sis. Remember last summer Grandpa had me working in SCAR’s Department of Research well I thought when we got a chance to go to Dallas to work on the Kennedy Assassination I wanted to be ready. Kym is one of their best research specialists, so I picked her brain daily for information that might be of use to us. Clint Murdock was just one piece of information she supplied.”
“Okay, but how does that concern us?”
Little Sister, now I’m getting to the good part! That is what you and I are doing in Texas. This is ‘The Plan’, what do you think?”
“Think? Think what, Forrest? All you have done is rambled on and on about some Texas millionaire, Lyndon Johnson and his so-called girlfriend. As I said, how does this concern us?”
“I filed the information away Kym Holmes gave me, thinking this would be something I could investigate when the time was right. Well, Sis the time is right - right now. We’re going to the Clint Murdock’s estate and see who shows up at his party. Especially, we want to see if Lyndon Johnson makes an appearance. If Johnson comes to Murdock’s party, and meets with a bunch of high-level politicians then the story his ‘girlfriend’ Margaret White told is probably true. If we could hear what they discussed in their meeting, maybe it might provide evidence there was a conspiracy by the Vice President of the United States to assassinate the President of the United States.”
“Why Forrest? Why would the Vice President be involved in something so sinister?”
“Just look at the title in front of his name: “Vice”, Vice President Johnson”. He wants the ‘Vice’ removed, he would like his title to be just “President Johnson”.
“How... how are we going to find out whether the Vice President came to the party or not?”
“Questions! Questions, Olive Marie, I don’t know... I didn’t say I had all the answers. In fact, I don’t have any of the answers. If I had it already solved, there would be no reason for you and me to be here. I’ll just have to figure it out as I go along.”
“Okay Forrest, let me see if I’ve got this straight. We have time-traveled forty-nine years into the past. We are now, supposedly, in the year 1963. Let me see if I’ve got this right: you’ve got me in a frozen, snow covered, dilapidated barn, sitting in a truck that is probably a reject from the 1950s, freezing my butt off, and now you’re saying you don’t know what ‘The Plan’ is? Is this about right?”
“Now Sis don’t get upset! It’ll come to me, it always does. Just give me a minute to think... all I’ve been doing is talking to you.” For the next few minutes, Forrest sat thinking. Olive Maria went to the barn door to check the weather conditions.
Getting back into the truck, “Okay Forrest – I’ve got good news and bad.”
“Dog gone it Sis, you know I hate those good and bad news things. Okay, I’ll play along, give me the bad news first.”
“It is snowing, and snowing real hard... there must be four or five inches of snow on the ground now, and it seems to have gotten a lot colder.”
“Okay, now give me the good.”
“The good Forrest is, I have a plan. I know it’s not ‘The Plan’, but at least it is ‘a plan’.”
Olive Marie sat there in the old Ford and outlined a series of clandestine operations she thought might work. She actually came up with some things Forrest had not even thought about. Yes, his Sis, little Olive Marie... (let’s be honest he didn’t have anything). Her first comment concerned the weather. She correctly explained the frivolity of sitting in this old barn all night and patiently waiting until 12:30 tomorrow afternoon. Her concern was the temperature was dropping, and they probably would run out of gas long before seeing the hatch open again. If they ran out of gas they were going to be in deep do-do, and not the cow kind piled in and around this old barn. The worst part: they probably would freeze to death before anyone ever found them. They couldn’t walk in this blizzard; so she purposed Forrest drive the truck to Clem and Penelope’s Ponderosa before the snow could get any deeper.
“Drive! Drive!” Forrest had to come clean. “Sis, I have to admit I am embarrassed – I don’t know how to drive this thing!”
“It’s okay Forrest, I knew you didn’t... let me think...”
Olive Marie had another idea. She said, if Forrest would let her, she believed she could figure out how to drive the truck. She reemphasized she had watched her boyfriend drive his Mustang, and knew she could drive this ole Ford.
Before he had a chance to protest she continued, “We knock on Clem and Penelope’s door and seek refuge from the storm. Grandpa has explained how warmhearted the two of them are so getting them to invite us to stay overnight will probably not be too hard.” For her plan to work she asked if Forrest knew, without his notes in Pegasus, where Clint Murdock lived?
He explained he had memorized the directions to the Murdock estate by listening to Ms. Holmes talk. He said it was located on the north side of Dallas at 45 Ash Hill Lane. Ash Hill is just off Hwy 279 about forty miles from their present position in Celina, Texas (assuming they were actually near Celina).
“Forrest,” said Olive Marie. “Grandpa said Clem was a part-time limo driver, and Penelope was a waitress. They must have uniforms! If we had those uniforms you could pose as a chauffeur and I could pretend to be a maid, we could go to the estate, snoop around the grounds and watch who comes and goes. I might even get close enough to hear some of the conversation from the meeting room.”
“No! No, Olive Marie! That is far too dangerous. The people who would kill the President of the United States would not hesitate to murder us if we got caught. I cannot allow you to be put into such a perilous situation.”
“Oh, come on Forrest, don’t be such a wimp, we can do it!”
Forrest had to admit he didn’t have anything better, so he reluctantly agreed. If they were going to find better shelter from this snowstorm, they had to leave this barn. That left two choices: they could walk (that was out of the question), or they could drive this old Ford truck (driving was almost as dire). Given the two options, the only one viable was to drive the truck.
“Sis, okay your plan has merit, I admit, but I’m worried about you and this truck.”
“Forrest, I’m going to turn off the ignition key, you are going to get out, open the barn door, and I am going to slide over under the wheel. I noticed on top of the gearshift is a diagram with an ‘R’, a ‘1’, a ‘2’ and a ‘3’. Those obviously are the gear positions - I know I have seen Charles push in the clutch and shift into first gear when he stops at a red light. Using logic, we must start in Number ‘1’. Jump out and get t
he barn door open. Forrest, trust me, I’ve got this baby under control.”
Opening the door, Forrest kept thinking, this is crazy; Sis couldn’t drive this truck on a sunny day in July. Now here we are in a blinding snowstorm, miles from who knows where, and she doesn’t even have a road to drive on. After opening the barn door, he noticed a narrow trail leading from the barn. It meandered across the pasture toward the outline of a big grove of trees about a quarter of a mile away toward the east. The weeds and grass that had flourished in the hot Texas summer by the trails edge now lay wilted and dead outlining its path perfectly. If Olive could get this old truck moving, and follow this meager path in the pasture they just might get out of there alive. Maybe a ‘real’ road would be just beyond the trees...
INTO THE BLIZZARD
Olive, with her hands gripping the steering wheel and her foot firmly pushing in on the clutch pedal, instructed Forrest to slowly turn the ignition key. The little V-8 Ford engine came to life with a roar. She tapped the accelerator a time or two just to get the feel of it. Once her nervousness had subsided she turned to him and nodded her head. They were ready! She indicated she was going to shift the ‘stick’ into first gear. This she accomplished flawlessly. Now for the big test - she began to release the clutch pedal out slowly - the truck moved! It actually moved. She gave it a bit of gas and through the open door of the barn the old truck rolled.
“Sis don’t stop,” Forrest cautioned her, keep moving, and just follow the outline of the trail in the snow.”
Out into the snow they ventured and was it ever snowing! It was coming down so hard, within seconds it had started to pile up on the windshield.
“Forrest, do something, turn on the windshield wipers, I can’t see.”
Frantically, he searched the dash. There it was. He turned the knob and the wipers began to work. While he was searching for the switch, he noticed a position on the heater control labeled ‘DEF’, quickly he deduced ‘Defrost’ and he shifted the control into the ‘DEF’ position and noticed heat began blowing directly onto the lower section of the windshield. “Just stay on the trail Sis.” Surprisingly, the four-wheel drive truck was moving through the five inches of snow quite well. Leaving the pasture they made a right turn onto a more substantial road. Forrest remembered his Grandpa had said Clem and Penelope’s house was just a few miles down this Texas Farm to Market Road Number 604. He cautioned Olive Marie to keep her hands on the wheel, and he would look for the turnoff to the Ponderosa. Fortunately, Olive Marie had the truck in first gear since the snow had gotten so deep, shifting into a higher gear would have been impossible, even if she had known how to do it. They were cruising along at a snail’s pace of five miles per hour, but they were at least moving.
“Sis, ahead on the right, I see the road.”
Thankfully, he said to himself. He had begun to get worried. They had been driving for over an hour, and daylight on this snowy day was beginning to fade into the dark gray, dimness of the evening. Darkness was not going to be too far behind. Forrest believed it would be suicide to try to drive in this raging blizzard after the sun went down and night was upon them.
A couple of miles from the main road, as their truck rounded a bend in the road he caught a glimpse of the Ponderosa through a small grove of leafless, hardwood trees, cedars and a majestic red oak situated in the very middle. It was as beautiful as their grandfather had described. What a serene picture - the house covered in snow; the evergreens planted all around; branches heavily laden with snow; their green branches added contrast to the stark whiteness of the raging blizzard. It was a Norman Rockwell painting.
Standing on Clem’s porch Forrest used one hand to shelter his face from the biting snow driven wind, with the other he knocked on the door. From inside they could hear the bark of a dog and footsteps approaching the door, “I’m sorry,” Forrest said as Clem cracked opened the door a few inches, “We do not mean to bother you, but we have gotten caught in this storm, and it is getting dark. I’m afraid we are lost. Could you be so kind as to point us in the right direction?” Standing beside Clem was the beautiful dog Grandpa had spoken of. He was correct – she was a gorgeous, sable and white, miniature dog. Forrest knew Lady was her name.
“Lands sake, you two - git yerselfs in this house, y’all goin’ to freeze to death,” Clem said motioning them inside. “Take off them thar snow covered coats and set yerselfs down in front of this here farplace and git warm. Penelope fetch these folks some hot chocolate. They need their innards warmed.” Clem opened the hall closet and hung their coats on a couple of wire hangers. The chauffeur’s uniform, waitress dress and apron hanging in the closet did not go without Forrest’s notice either.
Returning from the kitchen Penelope handed two large cup of steaming hot chocolate to both Olive Marie and Forrest, “Goodness gracious folks what in the world were y’all doing out on sech a night.”
“We just got turned around in the storm and got on the wrong road, I guess. I’m sure glad we turned down the road to your house. We thank you for the chocolate. It sure is good.”
Olive Marie added, “We just came from up the road apiece, and now that we know where we are, and you have given us something to warm us up, we need to be getting on and stop bothering you folks.”
“Well now you just hush you mouth gal! You two ain’t goin’ back out into that thar snow storm tonight. Yer staying right here with us, if’n that be all right with y’all.”
“Thank you ma’am that’s real hospitable of you.”
“Oh, ain’t nothin’, now you two git yerself warmed, and we’ll set another couple of plates on the table. I got a big pot of hot beef stew in yonder on the stove. Y’all look like you could stand a good, hot meal. Me and Clem wuz jest gettin’ ready to et supper.”
“Yes ma’am, we haven’t, I mean we ‘ain’t’ had nothing to eat in a while.”
“Okay, first my name ain’t ma’am it’s Penelope and this here is my brother Clem. We’s Clem and Penelope Ruby, and the dog over yonder is...”
“Lady...,” Forrest blurted out before thinking.
“Say!! How’ed you know her name?”
“Oh,” stammering to find a suitable answer, “well... well,” finally a response came to him, “she is... she is such an elegant looking dog, I cannot see any reason why she could be named anything else.”
“Yeah, your right, I wuz goin’ call her ‘Girl’ but somehows the name ‘Lady’ just popped into my head one day.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Forrest said. “This is my sister Olive Marie, and I am Robert Scarburg but they call me Forrest.”
“Robert Scarburg... Robert Scarburg...hmmm... now whar have I heered that name afore? Robert Scarburg... jest can’t seem to put my finger on it jest now, but it’ll come to me.”
Most of the night the wind whistled and roared around the corners and eaves of the house as the Texas blizzard continued. Around four in the morning, it seemed the howling was not dying down; the storm was far from over. Forrest slipped from his room and quietly tiptoed down the hallway to Olive Marie’s room. He grasped the doorknob as slowly as possible and turned it just barely enough to open the door. He hoped Clem’s door hinges were well oiled and would not squeak. Thankfully, the door made no noise. Entering Olive’s bedroom he saw she was still fast asleep. Snuggled up warm and toasty in one of Penelope’s homemade comforters. Silently he crept across the room to the edge of Olive’s bed. “Sis, sis,” he said in a soft whisper. “Sis,” he spoke again and gently shook her on the shoulder.
“Huh...? Huh...? Is that you Forrest?”
“Yes, get up, but be quite. The storm is not letting up, but we need to get going.”
“Why so early Forrest? What time is it anyway?”
“Don’t worry about the time, it’s early, real early, but I checked out the clothes closet where Clem hung up our clothes when we first arrived. Clem’s limo driver’s uniform and Penelope’s waitress outfit are both hanging in that hall closet. If we
can ‘borrow’ their clothes, and get out of here and into the truck without waking Clem and Penelope, the first step of your plan will begin.”
“But Forrest, I hate to steal from Clem and Penelope, they have been good to us, and they helped Grandpa too.”
“I know Sis, me too, but we’re not stealing, just borrowing. On the way back from our mission, we’ll stop, apologize and return their uniforms. How does that sound? Just get dressed we need to get going. It’s a long way to the Murdock place.”
“I just hope we are alive and able to come back!”
The first couple of steps from the bedroom out into the hall produced a slight squeaking of the boards on the floor. The sound was ever so slight, but to Forrest it sounded as though the boards were being torn from the floor. Surely Clem or Penelope heard that! Calm yourself, thought Forrest, it wasn’t that loud. Calm! Calm! The cold, north wind was still whistling outside, so he reasoned Clem or Penelope, hopefully, had not heard their footsteps; however, they were right outside Clem’s bedroom and Forrest knew one step on a loose board could cause Clem to spring out into the hall at any moment. He also knew Texans owned guns, and they were not afraid to use them. Stepping as softly as humanly possible the two of them tiptoeing slowly down the hall toward the closet. Before reaching the closet door, Forrest noticed a note pad and pencil lying on a small hall table. He hastily wrote Clem and Penelope a note:
Clem and Penelope,
Sorry we had to leave early - we have an appointment - thanks for everything - will stop next time through and talk again.
Forrest and Olive Marie Scarburg.
P.S. I had to borrow your chauffeur’s uniform and Penelope’s waitress outfit, we will return them, if possible, if not I left you some money.
P.P.S. If people come looking for us, please tell them Olive Marie and I went to the Murdock place. They will understand.
Reaching into his wallet, he removed two ten-dollar bills and placed the money and the note on the table. Glancing into the living room, he could see Lady lying curled up, sleeping warmly in front of the fireplace. Please Lady, he thought, please do not wake up; however, they were not to be that lucky.
Lady raised her head, looked at the two, and as if she were aware of their plans, placed her head back down on the floor without as much as a whimper, and returned to sleep.
The time was 4:30 a.m., Thursday, November 21, 1963.