Majestic Read online

  Wyatt’s mouth suddenly felt like sandpaper.

  He grimaced. “I guess I’ve put this off long enough. I’m now only a couple of months away from being born. Cutting it close. After that, I can’t take the chance of contact between us.

  “So, it’s now or never.”

  Chapter 59

  They were cruising along I-81, northward to Syracuse. It was a good four and a half hour drive from New York City, but Wyatt wished it was more like ten hours.

  He was preparing himself to finally meet his parents, something he’d put off ever since the leap of time back to 1963. But, he knew no amount of time would make any difference. It was now 1971, and this visit was long overdue.

  He was on the verge of seeing them again, and they wouldn’t have a clue as to who he was.

  A surreal thought.

  He’d done his homework already and knew they were both alive and well. And, considerably younger than he was, which was unsettling to think about.

  Willy and Helen lived in the suburbs just outside Syracuse. Willy was a professor at Syracuse University’s College of Art and Helen was, as far as Wyatt could determine, a housewife.

  So, their lives were different now, but had still followed along similar lines. Wyatt’s time travel back to 1963 hadn’t changed the fact that his father had fought in the Korean War in the 1950s and suffered the ill effects of having been beamed by the alien craft. In that respect, he was still the same Willy—with the altered DNA and the acquired art skills, along with all the other talents Wyatt knew he’d acquired.

  But, what had changed was that JFK hadn’t been assassinated in 1963—and neither had his brother, RFK, in 1968.

  Consequently, John served two full terms as president, and Bobby won the election to become John’s successor in 1969.

  History had changed in a profound way.

  The U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War died before it even got started. After meeting with Allison, Senator Hartford, Cardinal Valenti, and the CERN scientists, JFK moved quickly to withdraw all military personnel from South Vietnam. As a result, there was no draft and America didn’t have to deal with the heartbreak of seeing 50,000 American boys coming home in body bags.

  Because there wasn’t a draft, neither was there the exodus of draft-dodgers from the United States. No migration of thousands of angry young Americans to Canada. The mood in the country was entirely different now than it had been in the previous time when Willy and Helen had lived it.

  Instead of sneaking off and starting a new life in Nelson, Canada, the happy couple simply remained in their hometown of Syracuse. Wyatt thought it was weird that, if he asked them today, they probably wouldn’t even have any idea where Nelson was.

  But, Willy was still an artist…so he’d cultivated that skill acquired from his new DNA. Even better than that, he was teaching art at a university. Wyatt was able to easily imagine his dad as an art professor. He had that way about him—a charming humility that his students would find endearing.

  He felt her hand rubbing his knee.

  “Are you okay?”

  Wyatt smiled at her. “Yeah, I’m just fine. A little pensive perhaps, but…”

  “But, what?”

  Wyatt was silent for a few seconds.

  “Well, I do want to see them, but I’m wondering what the point is. I can’t tell them who I am, and we’re not going to have any kind of relationship. I’ll be a stranger to them and they will be to me, too. I’m seeing them before I was even born. And, then, in two months’ time when I burst onto the scene as an infant, I won’t ever be able to see them again. Can’t take the chance on getting too close to myself.”

  Allison turned her head around to check on the twins. They were both asleep in the backseat. While they probably wouldn’t clue in to what she and Wyatt were talking about, she was glad they were fast asleep anyway, just in case.

  “You know you don’t mean that. They’re still your parents. I know it feels odd, but I think you do want to see them, even if it’s only for just this once.

  “It hurts me a bit to hear you talk like that. I wish I were in your position, able to see my parents one last time, alive and happy.”

  Wyatt felt a pang of conscience. He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry—that was insensitive of me.”

  She wiped a tear from her eye. “It’s okay—apology accepted.”

  He took his eyes off the road for a second and glanced at her. “We considered all the big things on the world stage that would change by what we did, but we didn’t consider how things could change at every other level, too.”

  She nodded. “Reminds me of that movie, Final Destination. Fate sometimes intervenes to have its way even when we thwart it. My parents ended up dying anyway and, ironically, from a car crash, just like in 2010. Our intervention, in reality, cut their lives short by forty-two years. By a miserable drunk driver. Someone who was supposed to have been killed during the Vietnam War, but our intervention allowed him to live.”

  “Did your hard drive tell you much about the guy?”

  She shook her head. “No. All I had was the complete record of military deaths. He was supposed to have died in the war in 1968, but instead he got drunk and killed my parents that year. Which is strange—one death was prevented, but it was replaced by two other deaths in that very same year.

  “Now, take that statistic and multiply it outwards. Just think of it. There were 50,000 American men killed in Vietnam, but we changed all that. Some of those who were supposed to die might have turned out to be great people, with careers, inventions, and families. But, others, like this drunk driver, wouldn’t have turned out quite so well. How many people who were alive in our era, are now dead in this era just because of the people we saved? And, how does that change the future?”

  Wyatt rolled down his window and savored the caress of the wind in his hair. “I’m sorry about your parents, Allison. I know you would have loved to have seen them again. It would have warmed your heart, after losing them before.”

  She pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose. “It just goes to show—never put off the things that you know are important. We always think there’s another day, or another year. Sometimes, there isn’t.

  “We came back here in 1963, and I could have looked my parents up then. But, like you, I put it off—probably because of how daunting the prospect was. How weird it was going to be. Then, by the time 1968 rolled around, it was too late for me. They were dead…again. That’s why I’m glad you’re finally doing this.”

  “You’re right. I’m ashamed of myself. I promise you I’ll treasure the moment.”

  He saw the exit sign for Syracuse and took the off ramp. “We’re close now—only about ten minutes away. So, what’s our storyline again?”

  Allison pinched his cheek. “What would you do without me to coach you on our nefarious activities?”

  Wyatt laughed. “Not much—and I should be good at this stuff. I used to be a police chief and a Mountie!”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think subterfuge ever came naturally to you, my dear. So, our cover story is that we’re traveling through New York on vacation. I’m pretending to be a representative of Veteran’s Affairs. Bobby gave me some pretty authentic-looking identification; well, since he’s the president, I guess it’s about as good as it gets.

  “Anyway, while we’re traveling through New York, I’m supposed to be doing my duty by checking in with some of the veterans of the Korean War who live in the state. When I phoned to make the appointment, your mom answered. She bought the story. And, she sounded the same, Wyatt—even though she’s a lot younger. The same sing-song voice, cheerful tone. It was weird talking to her, recognizing her voice, but knowing she didn’t recognize mine at all.”

  Wyatt grimaced. “That’s the part I know is going to bother me. But, I’m just going to suck it up and realize that this is just the way it is. And, thank my lucky stars that they’re alive, and I’m able to see them. Gonna rem
ind myself that you didn’t get that chance.”

  Wyatt turned right on Highlands Parkway, then left on Watkins Drive. “This is it. We’re looking for number 207.”

  Allison whispered. “There’s something we haven’t talked about yet, Wyatt. We need to do that sometime. And, prepare for it, especially for the sake of the kids. I don’t know what it means, or what effect it might have. We just don’t know—which is why I warned you against coming in contact with yourself after you’re born. Time travel has so many weird possibilities to it. We won’t know the answer to this until the year 1977 arrives.”

  Wyatt felt a knot in the pit of his stomach.

  He whispered back. “You’re kinda scaring me. What are you getting at?”

  “My parents died in 1968. It’s now 1971. I wasn’t born until 1977. I won’t be, now.”

  * * * * *

  They were saying their goodbyes when the phone rang. Helen answered it, and told Allison it was for her.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Helen. I gave your number as to where I could be reached. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Oh, not at all, dear. An important government person like you, I’m guessing you probably never have a moment’s rest. We have a second phone plugged in on the covered porch in the back. You can take your call out there for some privacy.”

  Allison gave Helen a quick hug, then hurried out onto the back porch.

  She wasn’t gone long. About five minutes. Wyatt examined her face closely when she came back in. Hard to tell, but she seemed to be wearing a slight smile.

  Eric and Lisa were entertaining themselves in the hallway with a Fox Terrier named Mazie. The three of them were rolling around together, the kids giggling their heads off. Wyatt made a mental note to buy them a puppy when they got home.

  Even though they were ready to go, Wyatt didn’t want to. The visit had gone very well, better than he’d expected. As soon as he met them, the butterflies in his stomach disappeared. He felt instantly comfortable, felt at home.

  Willy and Helen were younger than he was now, but he still felt like a little kid in their presence—the way most kids felt around their parents, even after they’d grown up. In this case, it was extra strange, though, with the age difference.

  Helen was still his mother—pretty as a flower, and the perfect hostess. And, just like back in 2015, she fawned over her husband. But, she was perfectly capable of putting him in his place when he said something stupid. Just like in 2015.

  Willy was still his father. Handsome, strong, caring. Showed an interest in everything, just the way he had back in 2015.

  But, this time around, they didn’t have the father/son bond. He remembered how they teamed up to rescue Helen from the kidnappers. They were an unbeatable team then at a time of incredible stress, just like they had been during his growing-up years. Willy was his dad, and time travel didn’t change that. But, the sad part was, only Wyatt knew that.

  Willy was sipping his coffee and staring at him.

  “Are you sure we haven’t met somewhere before?”

  “No, Mr. Carson, I don’t think so.”

  “What’s your last name?”

  Helen slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be so nosy, Willy!”

  Wyatt quickly thought of a fake name. “It’s okay, Mrs. Carson. I don’t mind. My last name is Burke. Wyatt Burke.”

  Willy shook his head. “You look so familiar to me. In fact, we even look alike—we could be brothers.”

  “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment, Mr. Carson.”

  “Call me Willy.”

  “Okay, Willy.”

  Helen jumped in. “And, you folks can call me Helen.”

  Allison smiled. “It’s been so nice to visit with you. And, I’m glad to hear that Veterans Affairs is treating you okay, Willy. If you need anything at all, make sure to get in touch with our Washington office.”

  “Can’t I just call you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m leaving the VA. New job.”

  “You look familiar, too. Have I seen you on TV?”

  “I don’t think so. I have one of those familiar faces, though.”

  Willy laughed. “No, you don’t! Those eyes are amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with eyes like that before.”

  Helen struggled out of her seat and walked over to Wyatt. She leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “It was so nice of you all to drop by for a visit. I know it was a VA duty on Allison’s part, but it’s wonderful that she brought her lovely family along with her.”

  Wyatt couldn’t help but stare at Helen’s baby bump. He gestured with his hand. “Sit down, Helen, sit down. You look like you’re ready to give birth at any moment.”

  “No, I’m fine. It feels better when I get up and move around a bit. And, I’m not due until June or July, so I still have to put up with this for a while. But, I wanted to ask you something. I love your name. It’s so hard to pick baby names—would you mind very much if we used it?”

  Wyatt chuckled. “I’d be honored if you named your baby Wyatt. That’s great! I’m thrilled!”

  Helen eased back down into her chair again, with Willy’s help.

  “Oh, I’m so glad. Okay, then, if one of them is a boy, we’ll name him Wyatt. What a great name! I might even call him Wy for short.”

  “One of them?”

  “Yes. Didn’t we tell you? We’re having twins!”

  * * * * *

  Willy wouldn’t let them leave without showing them his art studio. He led them out the back door to a converted garage in the rear.

  It felt like déjà vu.

  A studio in a garage behind the house.

  Weird.

  The cavernous studio was filled with finished sculptures, as well as quite a few in their early stages. One corner of the building was set up classroom style, with tables, chairs, and a chalkboard.

  Willy explained. “I bring some of my students here for classes once in a while.”

  Allison walked around a large table and suddenly stopped, staring down at the floor.

  “What’s this, Willy?”

  Wyatt and Willy went over to join her.

  A massive ball was sitting on the floor, carved with what looked like canyons and mountain peaks. It was solid granite. And, it was darn familiar.

  “Oh, that. I really don’t know what it’s going to be yet. I get these urges once in a while, as most artists do. Then, I just go with my instincts. So, I can’t answer you yet. Come back and visit again, and maybe by that time I’ll know what it’s supposed to be!”

  Allison smiled, and winked at Wyatt.

  Suddenly, Wyatt noticed something off in the corner of the studio. It was about four feet in height, covered with a tarpaulin. It jarred a memory in his brain.

  He walked over to it, and gently pulled off the tarpaulin.

  Déjà vu.

  A soldier in battle, kneeling. Wrinkled and torn uniform, helmet on his head. His face was so alive, so torn with anguish. The eyes were closed and actually squinting, pinched; as if in pain, in fear, or…maybe blinded?

  He was grasping a machine gun in both hands, the index finger of his right hand pulling tightly against the trigger. The gun was pointed towards the sky. There was drool of some sort seeping out of the soldier’s mouth, draping over his chin.

  The only parts of his body that weren’t covered in military fatigues were his face and his hands.

  The statue was both beautiful and vocal. It was screaming out something, seemingly a message of anguish and abject fear.

  The skin on the face was transparent. The bone structure of the skull displayed itself in full shocking horror. The hands gripping the machine gun were the hands of a skeleton.

  * * * * *

  They had just crossed the Canadian border at Buffalo, starting the next leg of their vacation—a trip across Canada to their summer home in Nelson, British Columbia.

  They hadn’t said much to each other since leaving Wil
ly and Helen. The twins were once again fast asleep in the backseat, and Allison knew that Wyatt was wrapped up in his thoughts. Seeing his parents again had to have been a wonderful experience for him—yet, at the same time, sad.

  He would never see them again.

  His eyes were focused on the road, and his jaw and clenched lips betrayed his concentration.

  She broke the ice—reached over and ran her fingers through his hair.

  Wyatt flashed her a quick smile.

  “What are you thinking about, Wyatt?”

  He sighed. “I was thinking that up until a couple of hours ago, I was an ‘only child.’ Now, I’m going to have a twin brother or sister. Someone who I’ll never meet.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “It’s just too weird. How did our coming back to 1963 change that part of my life?”

  “Well, think of it this way. We changed the course of history. A less stressful life for Americans, no draft-dodgers on the run, more relaxed. Hormones might have been impacted beneficially in some people, and reproduction might have become enhanced as a result. What we changed by coming back affected more things than we could have imagined. Some things for the better and, I’m sure, some things for the worse, too. And, some more subtle than overt.”

  Wyatt adjusted the rear view mirror to take a quick peek at the twins in the back. Then he turned towards Allison and whispered, “That Korean War statue of himself. It’s still just as macabre as the first time I saw it. It was unsettling to see it again.”

  “Yes, it seems that he sculpted it a lot earlier in his life this time around. As well as that granite ball—we know it represents Gargantuan. He doesn’t know what it is, but we do. Everything seems to have accelerated a bit. Instead of waiting decades like before, he’s sculpted these things now.”

  Wyatt reached over and rubbed her bare knee. “Okay, let’s talk about something else—like, maybe, how nice your skin feels?”

  Allison smiled at him. “Are you getting horny, babe?”

  “Yes, I am. Good thing the hotel room I’ve rented for us tonight has two bedrooms!”