JAA Ch. 02: Time and Again

As I passed through the kitchen to the stairway, I peeked in the living room. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. There on the hearth were clothes, bloody clothes. Against the wall, there was a rifle. The clothes looked military the rifle did too. I continued upstairs now worried about my friend, not knowing what happened.

As I topped the stairs, I could see into the master bedroom. There were bodies in the bed, two bodies. I slowly crept to the foot of the bed. There was a man on the right-hand side of the bed and stretched out across the bed Susan's feet were hanging off the edge, her head on the pillow beside the man's. The man looked slightly familiar but it was not her husband, any more than that, I couldn't tell with the layers of dirt and grime covering him. Stepping to the left side of the bed, I shook Susan's foot gently.

Moaning she raised her head from the pillow to look down at her foot. When she saw me, she jerked into a sitting position. The man moaned as the bed moved ever so slightly. Susan scooted over and off the bed to stand in front of me. She took my elbow in her hand pushing me toward the door, down the hall, and into the bathroom.

"Turn around I have to pee," she told me.

"Fine, what the hell is going on Susan?" I asked her as I turned.

"He just showed up on my doorstep, all wounded. I cleaned him up best as I could, but he's in bad shape and doesn't want to go to a hospital. He is such a nice person, I couldn't turn him away," she finished, flustered about what she had done.

"Who are you talking about?"

"John, John Abernathy."

"He's back from Arizona?"

"No, yes, I don't know."

We both heard the loud moan from the bedroom. Susan brushed past me and out the bathroom door. I followed her down the hall and into the bedroom. John was trying to get out of bed. The sheet was stuck to his back holding him down to the bed. Susan was at his side holding him down so he didn't rip his wounds open.

"Help me get the sheet off the bed Shelly," she told me as she pulled the corner off the bed by John's head.

I went around the bed pulling the fitted sheet off the other corners. Then I swept the other bedclothes onto the floor.

"Okay, nice and easy there, John, Shelly, help me get him into the shower."

He did need one but I knew instantly that wasn't the reason why. The warm water would loosen the sheet from his wounds without ripping them open. I picked up the sheet and helped him walk to the bathroom and into the shower.

"Wait. Shelly, hold him steady while I get something for him to kneel on."

She was gone and I was holding a man I had known for years, yet he was almost unrecognizable.

"John, what has happened to you?"

"It's a long and tedious story," he croaked, even his voice was different, raspy and strained.

"When you are feeling better then," I hugged him to me.

Susan returned with a pad from one of her lounge chairs from the patio. She threw it down on the floor, we were in a big walk-in shower and she turned on the water. She was then beside me, helping John down on the pad.

"Strip."

"What?"

"Strip down to your panties and get one of my t-shirts on so you can help me here."

"Oh, okay," I replied.

I did what she asked returning to the shower. Susan was steadying John and trying to reach the handheld showerhead. Stepping around her I pulled it from the wall and turned it on, allowing the water to warm up before spraying John.

Shelly was now spraying John while I helped him stay up on his hands and knees. He appeared so weak and frail it seemed difficult for him. Once the sheet was completely wet, it started sliding off his back as the blood dissolved in the warm water.

"Shelly, get that bottle of shampoo off the shelf. No, the other one, that's it, thanks."

Taking the shampoo from her hand, I flipped the cap open and squirted a good portion on his head. Shelly squatted setting the showerhead down and started to wash John's hair. He groaned as her hands gently massaged his head.

"It's been so long," he whispered, just loud enough for us to hear.

"What has been so long, John?" I asked.

"It's been so long since I have had a shower, washed my hair," his voice grated.

Shaking my head, I held him a little tighter. Shelly continued gently to massage his head, then picked up the showerhead.

"I'm going to rinse your hair now, keep your eyes closed," she told him.

The warm water rinsed the soap and dirt away, revealing completely white hair. Shelly stopped for an instant when she saw that all his hair was white. The last time we had seen him only the hair at his temples was.

"The bottle of soap, let's wash the rest of him down," I told her.

Nodding she grabbed the soap squirting some in her hand she passed the bottle to me. She started by washing his neck. Squeezing a generous portion into my hand, I started on his lower half. Neither of us touched his back, we would deal with that in a different way. We scrubbed him clean from head to toe. The whole time he never said a word, never complained, never...even when I was washing his privates.

Once rinsed off, Shelly held him while I got a towel. We dried him off and took him into the bedroom. Spreading the top sheet and blanket on the floor, we laid him face down. Retrieving my bag, I pulled out the tube of anti-bacterial cream I kept there. I squirted it onto his back and Shelly and I gently massaged it into his back, buttocks, and legs. He was asleep before we finished. Instead of trying to move him, he would be just fine here on the floor, I got another sheet and blanket, covering him.

Looking up at the clock, I was amazed to find it had taken us an hour to clean him up. I was exhausted and Shelly looked like she was too. I pulled some clean panties, t-shirts, and shorts from my dresser. I threw a set to Shelly and started to change, she followed suit.

Being clean again was a wonderful feeling, one I relished as two sets of gentle female hands massaged and rubbed the dirt off my skin. It had been so long, so long since I was clean. Once they dried me off and laid me out on the floor in the bedroom, I relaxed as much as I could. When the salve hit my burning wounds, the pain disappeared and with the burning quenched, I could relax even more. The gentleness with which their fingers worked the salve into my wounds was wonderful.

After about ten minutes of their ministrations, I fell into the blackness of sleep once again, but the pain was not chasing me this time.

Shelly and I went downstairs into the kitchen. She started to fix coffee while I plopped down into a chair at the table. I put my head down on my arms and reviewed the choices I had made over the last ten or so hours. Were they the right choices?

Looking up, Shelly was standing in the doorway that led to the living room. I knew there was a mess in there that I would have to clean up.

"What the hell happened, Sue?"

"I don't know, but those wounds on his back are from shrapnel." I got up and walked to the doorway.

"Well, we better clean this mess up. And do something with this," she said picking up the rifle.

I quickly but gently took it from her grasp.

"Sorry, but I didn't get a chance to see if this was safe last night."

"You don't know anything about guns..."

I pressed the button to drop the clip from the magazine, catching it in my other hand. I then pulled the charging handle back allowing the cartridge in the pipe to drop out. I turned the rifle so I could see the fire selector. It was on safe, yet had been ready to go on a moment's notice. Bending over I picked up the round on the floor. Smiling at Shelly I turned and went back to the table and sat down.

"How did...how did you know how to do that?"

"My dad made sure I knew how to shoot a long time ago. He also taught me all about weapons, even those I would never likely handle."

I placed the rifle on the table in front of me. I held the clip and tried to push the loose round in, it wouldn't. Full clip, one in the pipe, that one extra round could be...well enough speculation. Looking at the bullet in the shell it seemed to be a different color than I remember. Instead of the same coloring as the cartridge, it was...silver.

"Is the coffee ready I sure could use a cup right about now," I asked Shelly.

With her mouth still open in surprise, she went to the coffee maker and poured two cups. I quickly forgot about the bullets. She set a cup down in front of me and sipped the other one still standing there looking at me with surprise on her face.

"Why didn't you tell me about this," she said waving her hand over the rifle.

"When did we ever talk about guns? When did you ever mention anything except disdain about firearms?"

"Not disdain, fear. I know they are a necessary tool, I just never thought I would ever need to know about them."

"Well," I picked up the rifle, "why don't you start learning."

I threw the rifle at her. She caught it with her empty hand. Then looking at me with terror in her eyes, she placed it back in front of me on the table.

"What are you crazy?"

"It's not loaded."

"Still..." she sank into the chair across from me. "Finish your coffee and I'll help you clean up the living room."

"Okay."

For the next fifteen minutes, we drank our coffee and spoke of things that in light of what I had done seemed mundane in nature. Shelly jabbered just to jabber, that's the way she was when she was nervous or upset, I, on the other hand, became quiet and despondent. I had to smile at those thoughts.

We got up at the same time, looked at each other and laughed. The laughing seemed to take a weight off my shoulders as I felt them relax. I pulled Shelly to me and hugged her briefly. She hugged me back. We were, after all, friends, best friends.

Kneeling down next to John's clothes, I started going through his pockets. Maybe something there would give us a clue to what happened to him. The article of clothing I checked first was his pants. There was nothing in any of the pockets and the belt he wore was made of cloth the same color as his pants. The other belt he was wearing held a number of items that someone in the military would carry.

The first thing was a pistol, but of a type, I had never seen. My dad had kept a subscription to Guns and Ammo for me since I left home and I was up to date on the latest and greatest in sidearms. This weapon was light and the grip was perfect for my hand. That's when I noticed the grip was conforming to my hand and I dropped it to the floor. The clatter startled Shelly as I tried to calm my nerves. I picked the gun back up and put it back in the holster.

"Sorry, it slipped out," I lied to her.

She nodded and went back to work gathering his shoes and socks. Next, I took his canteen and opened it. The malodorous stench that emanated from the canteen made my eyes burn. Shelly was beside me wondering where the foulness was coming from. I slapped the cap back on and screwed it shut.

"What the fuck was that?" Shelly yelled, coughing into her hand.

"I haven't the faintest idea," I replied, also coughing.

There wasn't much else, that meant anything to me, on the belt so I put it aside and picked up his jacket. The front pockets held nothing, but the inside pocket was full. Two letter size envelopes packed full of folded papers were present. Pulling them out and turning them over, I saw my name on the first one, Shelly's name, on the second.

"What's this?" I asked no one in particular.

I handed Shelly her envelope and opened mine. I pulled out a sheaf of papers. Unfolding them, I saw the neat handwriting of John on the first page.

'Dr. Reynolds...Susan...My Dearest Susan,

What I am going to tell you will seem unbelievable at first, but included in these papers, I hope will be some things that will make you believe what I am about to share with you.

First, let me say I have been fond of you from the first time we met, even though you tried very hard to be distant and aloof. The way you practiced your profession, I knew you were dedicated. So, that is why I came to you and Shelly for help.

The real reason I am here seeking your assistance is that I have come back to change two things in what is now my history. You read right, come back. I have come back in time to change two minor events so that the future will not be...horrible. And horrible it is, even though man has made great strides in some areas, in others we are totally lacking.

In order for me to accomplish what I am here for, I will need your help. My only request is no hospital, even if it means you think I will die.

Now where I come from, far in the future, I am 76 years old. Man's longevity has been extended, how far we have yet to see. You, my dear, are here, still a doctor, still looking as good as you do in your time, you are 60 years old, but don't look a day over 40, Shelly too.

I will now turn this letter over to you.

With Love,

John'

That was the end of the first page. It was incredible and unbelievable. Tossing the first page to the floor, I looked down at the second page. The handwriting was mine. I read on.

'Susan my dear,

Yes, it's me, you. Confusing? How would you feel writing yourself a letter so you can read it in your past? Confused? You bet. Now on to the meat of the thing, I am writing to you from the future to try to convince you to help our friend John. Jenny is here too by the way.

There is only one bad piece of news I have for you, dear. Our husband didn't make it when the war broke out he volunteered, I loved him even more for that, and he was killed in the battle for Atlanta. Yes, I mourned him, then I too volunteered. Shelly, Gerry, and John did also. Our friend John was smarter than we suspected. They gave him command of a column to take and hold Argonne Labs. The one right there by Shelly's house.

You would be proud of me, you, us, damn a new grammar will need to be invented for this. Anyway, you, my dear benefited from all your, what our dad taught us. We found the grounds deserted and set up shop. Okay, okay.

John was telling me to tell you about the canteen, don't throw that stuff out and it needs to be refrigerated or it will spoil. He needs it to live in your time or entropy will catch up with him. If you didn't read this in time to save the batch in his canteen, you will need to make some more quickly.

I hope this convinces you to help him, he is a dear, dear friend to me and Shelly and the kids. He told me not to tell you but you have XX kids here in the future. And xx are xxxxxxxx's the others are xxxxxxxx's. I just know he will x all that out but just know you have all the kids you ever wanted.

So now, you know. The rest of the papers are instructions to make the fluid John needs. Trust him, dear, he will do nothing to harm you. He will not hurt you or Shelly, although Gerry and he don't get along, but he won't hurt him either, he promised Shelly. As for our husband, John says he was proud to know him, even if it was for such a short time.

Got to go, the machine is all warmed up and purring like a kitten.

My love to you and the kids, I know he's not there right now but he will return to take care of you. I promise.

Me

P.S. The number is 181898. You know what it's for, krzygrl.'

Looking over at Shelly I saw that she was crying. When she looked over her shoulder at me, she sobbed even harder. The next thing I knew she was hugging me and kissing my cheek. She sobbed on my shoulder as she kept hugging me.

"What did you tell yourself?" I asked.

"I got two letters, one from me and one from Gerry."

"Do you believe what they are telling you?"

"Yes. Do you believe yourself?"

"Yes. So what do we do now?"

"I have instructions on how to get him up and going."

"And I have instruction on making that foul smelling stuff in his canteen. It says he needs it to live in this time. We need to make him some right away, the stuff in the canteen is no good, that's why it smelled so bad. This is all so confusing."

I sat there shaking my head. Leaning forward I placed my head in my hands shaking with confusion and the knowledge my husband would die in the future. Well, we all do or did. I was so confused.

Reading a letter from yourself, from the future, was confusing enough and when I read the one from my dear husband, I was even more confused. Until he told me about Susan's husband. Then I was sad and the tears welled up in my eye. Looking at Susan I knew she had read about her husband too.

Now she was weeping into her hands as I draped my arm over her shoulder. Pushing me away, she looked at me with tear-filled eyes.

"We have to finish cleaning this mess up, just in case," she said sobbing.

I nodded and we folded and replaced our letters into their respective envelopes. Susan took them and put them up on the mantel. She finished with John's clothes. They would need washing. The holes in the vest, jacket, shirt, and pants were small, pinholes really. We would see how they cleaned up. From the vest, she took four extra clips for his rifle. There was also a black canvas case. The label on the case was typed and I couldn't read what it said before Susan grasped it in her hand tightly.

Just as we finished cleaning the blood off the stone hearth, we heard John cry out and flew up the stairs.

I awoke to searing pain. Pain throughout my body, my blood was boiling, burning me from the inside out. I couldn't take it anymore and cry out. Pounding feet came up the stairs and into the room. They were above me talking, yet I heard nothing. All I could do is scream from the intense pain shooting through my body. Both Shelly and Susan, one on each side of me, lay down with me, holding me.

After about ten minutes, the pain started to subside and I could feel things other than the pain. It took another few minutes for all the pain to leave me.

"Susan, my canteen, I need my canteen."

"Oh god, John, it's gone...it's spoiled, we...I didn't know it needed to be kept cold. God, I'm so sorry," Susan, told me, hugging me to her.

"We can make some more, we have the formula," Shelly whispered.

"Hurry, I really need it, now. The pain is getting worse. Go please," I told them.

They got up and left quickly.

Once downstairs I retrieved the envelopes from the mantle, opening mine to get the recipe for what John needed. Reading the ingredients, I shook my head.

"Shelly, we don't have everything on the list."

"Whatever we are missing I'm sure we can get quickly enough, let me see."

Shelly looked over my shoulder as I held the papers. She read, murmuring to herself as she did.

"I can get those things down at the health food store. Let me get dressed and I'll be right back with the ingredients."

Before I could respond, she was gone. Looking around I rummaged in the cabinets for the things I did have. I put a tick mark next to the items I placed on the counter so Shelly would know what we needed. She came bouncing down the stairs, grabbing her coat. Once she had it on, she grabbed her purse and snatched the list from my hand.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, dear."

"Okay, do be careful out there. And don't lose that recipe."

"I won't," she yelled as I heard the door close behind her.

Until she returned, there wasn't much to do. I went to the laundry room and put John's clothes in the washer. Then I went upstairs to check on him. He was resting comfortably. As I stood over him, he opened his eyes and smiled.