FanStory.com - Saving Mr. Calvin - Ch. 32/33by Jim Wile

Alex said, “I’m not sure we’ll ever agree on all of this, but you’ve certainly given us a lot to think about. And you can bet we’ll give you a better go at the Fast Match if we do it again.”

“Fair enough, friend. And now, other guests await. It’s been a wonderful day and a wonderful discussion with you and Cam.”

“Thank you,” said Alex, “for a sobering but great competition, and we will see you in two weeks at your wedding, my dear old friends.”

Chapter 32

Alex was wrong about that because it was one week later that Putt and I saw him at archery practice in Castasnogwary. There we received a rather stern chewing-out from the captain because we had missed the last few.

He said, “I know what you lads have been up to with your gowf matches. You are aware old James II has given the word to desist with the gowf, yet you treat it as no more than a friendly suggestion. It is not a suggestion; it is an order, and you will cease further playing as commanded! You need the archery practice, and you are jeopardizing your lives and those of others by not taking it seriously. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” we said in unison. We had heard this before, but never put quite so strongly. We spent the remainder of the day shooting at targets from a standstill, while running, and from horseback. Our arms were very sore by the end of the day.

The wedding took place the following Saturday. Aggie was gorgeous in her white, high-waisted gown, with her long, red hair spilling down her back. Her father, who was normally confined to his quarters upstairs due to his weakened condition, escorted her down the aisle of the church, where I waited with Putt beside me at the altar. Most of the townsfolk were in attendance, dressed rather well for the occasion, and I had on my best clothes too. We exchanged rings and were pronounced married by the priest.

Soon after, we headed back to the Bonnie Brae, followed by all our friends and families, and we celebrated far into the evening with plenty of food and drink, plus music and dancing.

At long last, Aggie Lang has become Aggie Pate, and we hope for an era of peace and good health going forward that will enable us to enjoy our lives together and soon raise a family.

Alas, this fantasy of a clear, bright future came to an end the following day when Putt and I reported to archery practice at the church in Castasnogwary where it had been decreed the practices would take place. The captain announced another muster in three days’ time. We would be going to battle yet again, only a month or so after the previous battle. Aggie and I were heartbroken. She was as fearful as ever that I would not return. We tried to enjoy our first few days of marriage, but the looming battle put an unfortunate damper on things.

As we lay cuddling in bed the night before the call to muster, Aggie said to me, “Kirk, it just isn’t fair! When will those wretched English finally give it up and slink back into the hole they came from and leave us alone?”

“My dearest, I wish I knew. Each time we return from battle, I think it will be our last, but it never is. Someday they are bound to get the message that we will never yield to them, and we will have peace. But I must continue to defend Scotland for the foreseeable future. I wish this moment in time, here with you, could last forever. I love you very much.”

I felt gentle tears fall to my chest as she lay with her head on it. “I love you too, my dearest husband.”

I left early the next morning and joined Putt on the way to Castasnogwary, where we joined the muster. We met Alex there, and the three of us marched together again to battle, ending up quite near the same place as the previous one. The day was overcast, and eventually rain began to fall.

Scouts had been sent out earlier on horseback to try to reconnoiter the strength of the enemy forces. Troopwise, we thought we may have a slight advantage, but spirits were low in the miserable weather. Still, when the captains announced the charge, we charged, and like it or not, we engaged the enemy on the field of battle. As before, we began with a volley of arrows fired from a distance, then a joining of battle with the spearmen and swordsmen and axe-wielders on the field. The fighting was fierce, and I used up all my arrows before drawing both my sword and dagger from their sheaths. Putt and Alex fought next to me as we helped guard each other’s backs.

At one point, an enemy axe-wielder, who had been lying on the ground as if dead, sprang up suddenly and buried his axe into Alex’s back beneath his right shoulder blade. Alex screamed, and both Putt and I stabbed the man with our swords, putting him out of action for good. But Alex was down and was bleeding profusely.

“Be at peace, old friend,” I said to him. “I’ll be back for you when the battle is over. Rest easy; you’re not going to die today.”

His voice was weak, but he said in little more than a whisper, “I hope this battle will be a Fast Match, and will soon be over, Kirk. If I don’t make it, may you and Aggie live long and have lots of children. You’ve been a dear friend to me, and I wish I had moved to Foon with you when I …” He trailed off then.

“Well, maybe you can move there when this war is over. Rest now. Putt and I will be back for you, Alex.”

He closed his eyes, and we left him there, not knowing if he would make it, as we rejoined the battle.

In another hour, it was over for today. Putt and I both sustained minor wounds in our arms and legs, but we would be alright. The battle had moved far afield, and it took us some time before we were able to locate Alex lying where we had left him. He was still breathing but was very pale and unconscious from the loss of blood.

The rain had finally abated some as we trudged off the field carrying Alex’s limp body. I couldn’t wait for this wretched war to be over and for me to return once more to my beloved Aggie. If only Alex wasn’t so mortally wounded.

Putt and I carried him into the woods where we hoped to find some help for him.

Chapter 33

Santa Barbara, California

2032

As Paul and I stepped under the trestle, we looked around, but it was only the two of us. Alex was not there with us. On top of the bank, though, were Art Calvin and Ernie, watching us.

“Been somewhere?” asked Ernie after Paul and I scrambled up the hill together.

Paul looked back under the trestle but saw nothing but the grassy field beyond. He shook his head to clear it. “He wasn’t bullshitting us, Ern; it was real!”

“Jesus, guys! Now you’re in cahoots and bullshitting me together. Nice try, though.”

Paul grabbed him by his shirt and said, “Listen, you big dope. I told you I was going with him to call his bluff and prove he made it all up. He didn’t. It’s true. We just left our friend Alex behind in 15th-century Scotland. We were battling the English, and he was bludgeoned with an axe. We don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

Ernie looked at Art then. “I think he’s serious. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Oh, he’s serious, alright. I don’t think anyone is that good of an actor. Why don’t we go back to where we were, and they can tell us about it?”

We headed back beneath the shade then and sat down for another long story. I began:

“When we first went under the trestle, we ended up in the woods. We were soldiers, both of us archers—actually, all three of us, including our good friend Alex—and we were about to join battle with the English. We were just outside Edinburgh, Scotland in the year 1458. I had jumped into Kirk Pate and Paul into Putney Pell, but everyone called him Putt.

“We survived that battle and returned home that day, where I rejoined my beloved Aggie…. Wait a minute. I just realized something. Aggie was 22 and looked amazingly similar to my beloved Arie from Holland when I left her at age 22. In fact, she was a lot like her in many ways. This is too weird!”

Paul picked up the story then. “This is weird. Look at the names: Kevin Parsons—Kilian Prost—Kirk Pate. And me, Paul Putnam—Putney Pell. Incidentally, Ern, the term ‘putting’ in golf came from my nickname, Putt, because I sank everything. Oh, we should tell you, there’s a lot more golf in this story. They called it ‘gowf’ in Scotland. Like Kevin says, this is so weird!”

“Alright, guys. I’m beginning to be convinced. I don’t think either of you is creative enough to come up with this sh… stuff. So, what happened in old Scotland?”

We then proceeded to tell him and Art the whole story.

When we were finished with it, I said to Ernie, “Convincing enough for you?”

He looked at Art then, who just nodded to him. “Pretty darn. I guess the only way to know for absolute certainty is to go with you myself. Anyone up for another trip?”

Paul said, “Not me. I think just you and Kevin, if he wants to, should go by yourselves. How about you, Art?”

“I think my time-traveling days are over now, fellas, but I’m delighted to hear about your adventures. It brings it all back to me. Many of my travels were the most memorable and special times of my life. They have taught me much, as I’m sure they are doing to you. I think you should go with him, Ernie.”

“I’m scared, though. What if we don’t make it back?”

I said, “I think all you would lose would be the memory of having been there and what you may learn there. You see, I think you would still be here in 2032 just as you are. It’s like your mind is in two places at once. It doesn’t leave here, leaving you essentially unconscious here. I think it somehow duplicates itself when you walk through the portal, and the new part goes through into another time. If or when it comes back through the portal, it merges with your mind that remained here, and now you will gain the complete memory of the time there. If it never makes it back through the portal, it will just be as if it never left here in the first place.

“From the perspective of the person whose mind you share while there, whether you stay with him or leave again will have no effect on him. He is never even aware of your presence in his mind. In fact, you won’t even be aware of your 2032 self when in his mind. And when you come back to 2032, he just goes on living as he always has. When I left Holland and now Scotland, Kilian and Kirk just went on living their lives as normal. That’s my theory anyway.”

“I think he’s absolutely right about all that,” said Art.

“So do I,” said Paul.

I could see Ernie thinking this over and debating with himself, but finally he said, “Alright. Let’s hurry, though, before I chicken out. Where do you think we’ll end up?”

“I haven’t a clue. Art, do you have any insight about that?”

“The only thing I can tell you is that each time I went, it was in a later era than the previous one. But you’ve got another five hundred years open to you, so it’s anyone’s guess.”

“Alright, let’s get going then,” said Ernie. “See ya soon,” he said to Paul and Art as we headed down to the trestle together and stepped underneath.

(End of Part 2. Part 3 begins on Monday.)