Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1) (30 page)

      He wasn’t as tall as she thought he should be.  He was about five feet nine or ten, slightly taller than her.  He had thick long black hair that he kept pulled back into a club at the back.  His eyes were blue and his face thin. He was square-shouldered and solidly built.  But, she could tell he was used to an outdoor life.  His gaze was firmly rooted in the here and now but could quickly change to see things maybe others might not notice.   Finding out he was the tracker they were looking for struck her as the most appropriate thing that had happened to them in a long time.

      He leaned his back against the chair and looked to Mel.  “Now, let’s have your story again then, friend,” He said with a light almost melodic voice that still filled every corner of the small one room cabin.

     Mel shifted a little in the corner, facing the man whom he had come to find and realizing that he was having a hard time adjusting to the presence of him. He had never known the Tracker, never met him and his identity was a closely guarded secret except to a few chosen ones.  He didn’t think meeting him would be such a trying moment.  Mel wasn’t comfortable with trying moments. “Well, ok, Mr. Boone.  I want to apologize for dropping in on you like this.”

     “Well, friend it would be untrue of me to say that your predicament hasn’t raised some alarm with us.  These are Indian lands, Mr. Mel, dangerous and foolhardy for the inexperienced.  And please call me Dan.  There is no mister here but I have a major’s commission in the militia.”  He said with a very learned and artful eloquence.

     Mel looked down and smiled at the polite rebuke from one of the greatest frontiersmen to ever have walked the trails. “Dan.”  He began again.  “I’m just Mel,” He said looking up.  “I realize we must look a pitiful sight to you.  I guess we’re about the furthest thing you thought you’d ever find today.”

      “ Noooo.” Ned laughed by the door and elbowed Israel, who was grinning at the remark.  Ned, despite looking almost identical to Daniel, seemed to be the most playful of the two. “Why just this morning I remarked to Dan’l, I says Dan’l what say you to a nice little walk toward Lexington?  I feel in my bones that we might just see four poor, beggarly sorts dressed in queerness who are in need of our aid.”  His tone was obvious.  “And there you were.”

      Daniel grinned slightly at his brother’s playfulness.  “Do not let Ned best you, Mel.  He’s a preacher and fond of hearing himself talk.  He is just as fresh here in the wilds.  He came up from North Carolina with us to help start our new station and find some agreeable acreage.”  He gently slapped his right knee for emphasis and to dispel any lingering fears or apprehensions on his guests.  “But, tell me who were you searching for again?”

     Mel gladly took up where he had left off.   “You, Dan.  We came to find you.  We work for the Company….”

     Daniel sat firmly upright as if a bolt had just gone through him.  He looked at Mel in a very concerned way.  It was obvious that this bit of information was of great meaning to him.   He looked at Tormodis again.  “Then you are him?  You’re Ole Sam?”

     “Uh, yes sir.” Tormodis was unusually polite and forthcoming. “Well, my name is Sam, Sam Rogers.  But, I changed it to Tormodis.” 

     Daniel slowly shook his head.  By now this had caught Rebecca’s attention as well.  She stopped her work and looked at Tormodis.   Ned and Israel looked at each other nervously.  “That seems a strange thing for a man to do unless he is running from something,” Ned commented.

    Daniel remained stoic, noting his brother’s comment with a simple glance.  “I see there’s a lot more about you then I know, Sam,” Daniel remarked. “We’ll have to talk the next time I see you.  So,” he switched his attention to Mel again, “it’s the Company again, is it?”

           Mel looked over at Tormodis, temporarily unsure. “Uh, yes.  We’re from the Company, and we need your help.”

          Daniel sat quiet, reflecting for a moment.   “And what would you need me to do, pray?”

      Mel sighed, “We need you to track something for us.  Just like you’ve tracked for the Company before.”

      “So, you know about that do you?”  Daniel asked.  “There are rules, for the tracking, Mel.  The Company knows the rules.  I only work with one man.”  He regarded Tormodis again.  “Do you know what I am speaking of, Sam?”

    Tormodis looked suddenly uncomfortable.  The moment of truth had come.  “Well, these guys have told me that, um, you and I sort of work together.”  He stuttered.  He had seldom been so at a complete loss of personality in front of someone as he was with Daniel Boone.

   Mel tried to jump in and help, concerned that they were on the edge of losing the help they had come for.  “It’s the same kind of tracking, the special deal you have with the Company.”

       Daniel hadn’t taken his eyes off of Tormodis.  “What say you, Sam?”

      Tormodis nervously glanced around the room at the expectant faces.  Even the children were patiently waiting for his word.  He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, and he was growing frustrated that he hadn’t been better filled in with the details before this conversation began.  “I think they, I mean we, need your help, Dan.  I don’t know everything that’s going on, but it looked pretty bad to me.”  He tried to sound confident to regain his footing. 

       Daniel thought for a moment, looking at his pregnant wife.  “We’ll have to be traveling then?”

     “Whatever it is you need to do, sir, um, Dan, to do what it is you do.”  Tormodis sputtered.

     The Tracker sat still in contemplation, revealing little of his inner mood.  He was looking out at everyone as if they were not there.  “I do this for our friendship, Sam.  I told you once I would always be there when needed.  Let no man say Daniel Boone is not a man of his word.”  He suddenly slapped his knee energetically and grinned at his wife.  “Well, old woman.  I am needed by the Company again.   What do you think of that?”

     Rebecca said nothing but stood dejected, the knife in her hand greasy with bear fat, her other hand on the top of her protruding abdomen.

   “But, first, let us have some meal.  You must be hungry from the cold?” Daniel looked at his guests. “I also would not have it said that Daniel Boone was inhospitable to guests, even strange ones that show up in the wilds with no winter clothes.”

         After a spare meal of seared bear meat and fried meal with parched corn, Daniel began gathering his things.  He told Ned and Israel to watch after things for him while he was gone and that he would be back in just a few days.  Rebecca clearly was not happy about his departure.  She was worried about the deep cold outside.  Daniel just dismissed her concerns.  He had spent many winters in the cold out alone.  He could manage a few days of tracking.  She bid him be careful.

        When they excited the cabin, the group stood out in the snow waiting while Daniel spoke a few more words to Israel and Ned.  He had gathered his black Quaker’s hat, his powder horn, side bag and rifle.  It was almost midday now, and the sun was giving the most warmth it was going to manage on this winter’s day.  The sky was bright and blue with only a few clouds.  But the breeze was still blowing, and it bit into the group like bitter knives.  Daniel waved goodbye to the young ones in the cabin.  They were mostly his nieces and nephews that he and Rebecca had taken to raise after the death of his older brother in North Carolina from consumption.  He raised them all as if they were his own.  He squared his shoulders and started off over the hill, in a northerly direction.  Ned and Israel asked no questions about his destination.  They knew not to.  The group of travelers followed behind him without a word, but very curious as to what it was he was doing.  Daniel hadn’t told them anything either.

       After a few miles in the cold, now far enough away from the station and prying eyes, Daniel finally stopped and turned to Tormodis.  “Alright, Sam,” he said, “I need you to take me to where this all started for you.”

       Tormodis looked uneasy. “You mean you want us to take you to where we just came from?”

      “Yes,” he replied. “But, not when you came from, just where.”

      Mel’s looked confused. “I’m sorry, you want us to take you to where we just came from but not when?”

       “Tis right.” He told Mel. “I have traveled enough with Ole Sam to know about what you do.  I do not pretend to understand how you do it.  But, I do know that you can.  The only stipulation I have is that we stay in this time.  Now, take me to where it has happened.”

      Mel looked around at Tormodis.  His eyes begged the question he was unable to get his mouth to say.

      Tormodis nodded.  “I can do it.”

     He turned back to Daniel Boone.  “Are you ready?”  He asked. 

      Daniel laid his rifle in the crook of his left arm.  “I am.” He said.

      The group was surrounded by an intense blue light that grew and grew until it was blinding.  Then they were gone, leaving only a depression in the snow from where they were standing.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Meanwhile, Back On Guam

     This time around, Mel could swear he smelled an electrical burning smell, that nasty ionic tinge that infects the nasal cavity and is impossible to get rid of.  He was getting tired of these little sensory interruptions.  He wasn’t sure what was causing them, but he suspected Roger.  These things never happened on a port when Roger wasn’t there.  Somehow, Roger’s craziness was bleeding out and infecting people during the ports.  At least, that was how Mel imagined it.   He decided not to think about it.  It was best to concentrate on the mission and leave the infectious psychological aspects of lunacy for another time.   When his feet were planted once again on terra firma, he took a deep breath and realized it was filled with steamy heat instead of bitter cold.  They were in the jungle, underneath the thick canopy of vegetation that blocked the morning sun overhead.   

      “Ahhh, Guam.”   Mel commented.  He felt the oppressive heat hit him like a steam bath.  “In the jungle.”  He looked around at their surroundings, not impressed. Tormodis was beside him, coughing slightly.  He still held on tightly to the M1.  He shook his head as if he was clearing out a bad dream. 

      Margaret could tell something was wrong with her husband.  There was a strange look on his face; his normal dark color was tinted with red like he was fighting back nausea or trying to conceal a deep pain.  “What’s wrong, Sam?”  She instinctively asked.

       He waved her aside as if it was nothing but he didn’t speak, which was uncharacteristic.  She looked him over, analyzing his features.  Clearly it was something.

       Daniel Boone analyzed his surroundings in all directions, his sense of caution and danger at its highest.  He needed to get his bearings.

      “What part are we in?”  Mel asked, unconcerned about Tormodis and his sudden predicament. 

      Tormodis spoke softly. “I brought us back.  Back to where we started.”

      Mel seemed amused.  “Pete’s before Pete.  Cool.”  He said.  Then his countenance changed too.  It became suddenly fraught with concern.  “Better be careful.  1780 Guam was not a good place for English speaking people to pop suddenly up in.  We don’t want any added attention from the locals.”

    Tormodis unexpectedly groaned and went down on one knee in the sand, dropping the rifle in the process.  Margaret was there by his side kneeling down to help her husband with this unusual malady.  He was holding the sides of his head almost in agony.

      “What’s wrong with him?”  Mel, at last, acknowledged the problem.

       Margaret glanced up at Mel standing over them.  “I don’t know.  This has never happened before.”

      Daniel cradled his long rifle in his arms and surveyed the situation.  “No doubt it is the nexus.”

      Mel twisted toward him in surprise. “Come again?’

   “The Nexus.”  Daniel repeated.  “We are close to it. I can tell.”  He looked off into the hidden depths of the jungle.

     “How do you know about the nexus?”  Mel was amazed.

     Daniel smiled slightly.  “I am the Tracker.  All things start from the Nexus. To track, you have to know where it all starts from.”

    “Remarkable.”  Mel commented, genuinely impressed.

   “What are you talking about?”  Margaret put her arm around her husband’s shoulders.

     Mel turned back toward her.  “The Nexus is the center of the reality streams, the convergence point if you will.  It’s here on Guam, or, at least, it will be.  It was moved here in the 20th century by the nuclear explosions in Japan.  It was always around kind of bouncing from point to point, but the nuclear detonations in World War II made it a fixed point, relatively speaking.”

     Margaret didn’t seem pleased with this rambling explanation.  “I don’t understand any of that.  Why is it affecting my husband like this?”