Tear In Time (37 page)

  “Lad,
you better go. No telling how unstable this portal is,” Dr. Morgan said as he
pulled away. “You mustn’t waste opportunity.”

  David
wiped a tear from his watering eyes, turned and began to walk to the spot where
he had entered the current time period a year ago. As he walked, he turned
around and walked backwards, waving as he backed up toward the portal.

  Dr.
Morgan waved back, wiping the tears from his eyes, he called out, “Godspeed to
you, David.”

  David
looked over his shoulder and stopped. He was at the exact spot he arrived from.
Turning to Dr. Morgan, he replied, “Thank you for everything, doc. You were an
amazing friend.”

  David
stood at the portal and closed his eyes. He waited a moment, then reopened
them. He smiled at Dr. Morgan again, then closed his eyes once more. Waiting in
silence, he felt the morning breezes brush past his face. Opening his eyes, he
took a couple of steps back and forth from the center of the portal. With no
affect, he stepped side to side.

  David
glanced over to Dr. Morgan with concern.

 
“Something's wrong, doc. It's not working. Am I in the right spot?” David
asked.

  “As far
as I can see, lad. Maybe there are forces surrounding your return we haven't
accounted for,” Dr. Morgan replied, a bit confused.

  David
reluctantly walked toward Dr. Morgan, his face showing deep disappointment.

  “I
can't figure it out. We're missing something. There's got to be some kind of
trigger that opens the portal,” David theorized.

  The
two stared at each other, searching each other’s eyes for an answer.

 
“What's different now than from before?” David asked rhetorically.

  They
both stood in silence. As the seconds past, Dr. Morgan offered a simple answer,
“Son, the most obvious thing missing is war. A battle was raging when you
arrived. Now it's just peaceful; serene. Maybe there was some kind of energy
associated with war that opened the portal.”

 
David's eyes lit up. Suddenly, he felt invigorated.

  “Doc,
that's it. That's got to be it. Think about it. When I came through, I was
covered in blood from a horrific operation where I lost that eight-year-old
girl on the operating table. You yourself were covered in blood, hacking limbs
off wounded men in agony. There were loud explosions and screams of death
everywhere. Men lined the entire perimeter of this clearing, bleeding all over
the place, waiting for their turn to have a limb sawn off. Boy, if that isn't a
charged environment, I don't know what is. Doc, that's got to be the answer.
This portal will open again; we just have to wait for the battle to start,”
David said with enthusiasm.

  “I am
assuming you are talking about crossing enemy lines during the battle? David, I
must caution you. What you are proposing is near impossible. The enemy will be
everywhere. Your chances of capture will be high. Additionally, while the
battle rages, you might be called upon to fight. I just don’t know if you will
have any time to attempt your plan during battle,” Dr. Morgan said.

  “Doc,
I’ve got to try. I can’t give up,” David replied resolutely. “I am sure that
portal will open with the right amount of energy.”

 
“David, I'm inclined to believe you are correct in your hypothesis, but we must
proceed with caution. We must be sure that the time you are going back to is
your time,” Dr. Morgan cautioned.

  David
took a step back, his face suddenly becoming blank. He thought about the old
doctor's words and realized the truth about them.

  “Wow,
doc. In my excitement I forgot about that, but you're right. I really don’t
want to go back further in time. Too far into the future wouldn’t be good
either,” David said, shaking his head in worry. “I'm going to have to be really
careful with what I see before I enter the portal. Wow, this sucks.”

  “Life
is full of pitfalls, David. It's what makes life interesting,” Dr. Morgan
responded.

  “Speaking
of interesting, Gen. Grant will be arriving at the other camp shortly, and from
what you told me about him, we'd better have that place ready to go by the time
he shows up,” David said.

  “He's
a hard man. No nonsense. You're right. We better address the portal later,” Dr.
Morgan replied.

 
Together, they got on their horses and rode off to organize the men. Looking
back at the portal area, David said, “Never thought I’d hear myself say this,
but I can't wait for the battle to start.”

  “Cruel
irony, I'd call that, lad,” Dr. Morgan replied.

  “Twisted
irony is more like it,” David joked.

---- ----
---- ---- ----

  The
medical camp was organized to accommodate the assembly line method of surgery.
Gurneys were lined up, and piles of wood were gathered and stacked in
preparation of boiling water for sterilization. With men rushing to complete
the set up, it was transformed from a lazy open field to a bustling medical
camp. As David was placing the finishing touches on the stock of supplies,
several horses made their way through the aspen forest.

 
“David, he's here,” Dr. Morgan called out.

 
“Grant?” David asked rhetorically. He nodded to Dr. Morgan in understanding,
then straightened himself for the general’s arrival as he hurried to stand next
to Dr. Morgan.

  “Here
we go,” David said with apprehension.

 
“You'll be fine, lad,” Dr. Morgan encouraged.

  Gen.
Ulysses Grant rode into camp, seated high on his horse. Like soldiers guarding
nobility, several officers trailed behind him. With a cigar clamped in his
teeth, the general gave off the air of nonchalance, but nothing could be
farther from reality. With extraordinary intelligence and organization, he ran
a very tight army. Sloven and sloppy work were dealt with in the harshest of
terms. As he strode on in, he took inventory of the men at work and the set-up
of the camp. Stopping only for a moment to observe the series of operating
tables staged together, he continued on, satisfied with his inspection.

 
Standing at attention, Dr. Morgan and David waited for Gen. Grant to dismount
before saluting him. With a quick snap of his hand, the general reciprocated in
turn.

  “Good
afternoon, Dr. Morgan. It's been quite a while. I see you're still growing a
handsome beard,” Gen. Grant started, stoking his own scruffy beard in jest.

  “Yes
sir. It is the only way the missus can recognize me,” Dr. Morgan replied in
light humor.

  “Quite
right, sir,” the General replied.

  Gen. Grant
turned to David. Still at attention and staring forward, he exuded the
embodiment of a respectful officer. The general gave him a quick but thoughtful
inspection, then addressed him.

  “Sir,
we have not met. By your epaulet’s stars, I would deduce that you are Brig.
Gen. David Warner. I am very pleased to meet you. Gen. Negley has spoken very
highly of you,” Gen. Grant said, extending his hand and pumping David's with
great enthusiasm. “At ease, at ease. How's that wound of yours? I heard on good
authority, namely Brig. Gen. Custer, that you fought bravely, saving the
general’s life even after you were severely wounded. It is an honor to meet men
of such courage.”

  “I was
just doing my job,” David replied as he struggled for the right answer.

  “Modesty
is a quality I admire, David. It's a mark of good character,” the general
complimented.

  David
and Dr. Morgan both relaxed their stance a bit and waited for the general to
continue. They didn't have to wait long.

  “David
– may I call you David?” Gen. Grant asked rhetorically, “Even by the vague
orders I sent you, I'm sure you are aware of our intention to rout the
Confederates from this region once and for all. Chattanooga has been a thorn in
our side for quite some time now, even after repeated attempts to 'persuade'
them to move on. I have brought up several Corps of men, commanded by Generals
Thomas, Hooker and Sherman. I plan to assault the Confederates from the front,
but haven't received my reconnaissance quite yet, so things may change dramatically
once I'm briefed. I plan on holding you in reserve, so I will call on you if I
should need you. In the meantime, please continue to ready the infirmary. Is
any of this unclear?” Gen. Grant asked.

  “No,
sir, all is clear,” David replied.

  “Very
well. I will brief you in detail prior to the battle. Have the men ready to
move upon request,” Gen. Grant instructed.

  “Yes
sir,” David replied.

  “Ok,
now that we have dispensed with formality, Gen. Negley has informed me that I might
be able to requisition a fine cigar and some medicinal whiskey. I hope he was
not mistaken,” Gen. Grant asked.

 
“Certainly, sir, I just happen to have been resupplied just recently. Would you
care to recline by the fire?” Dr. Morgan responded.

  “A
fine suggestion, doctor,” Gen. Grant said.

  As
Gen. Grant’s officers reconnoitered the area, the general, Dr. Morgan and David
sat by the roaring fire and enjoyed a moment of relaxation. David listened to
the General and Dr. Morgan recall memories of triumph and tragedy while
employed by the military: stories that included battles, Indians, commanders
and women. As the evening rolled in, Gen. Grant enjoyed a stew prepared with
fresh rabbit and biscuits, then more cigars and whiskey, until the night hours
produced a bitter cold that even the roaring fire had trouble overcoming. Too
late to travel by night in enemy territory, Gen. Grant and his officers spent
the evening. At daybreak, the general ate some breakfast of salt pork, hardtack
crackers and coffee.

  As the
officers finished their breakfast, a call to Gen. Grant came from the area near
the operating gurneys.

  “Sir,
if you could oblige me, would you care to have your photograph taken?” asked a
skinny, disheveled-looking young man.

  Gen. Grant
turned to the officers seated around the fire and said, “Damn photographers. I
can't crap without a camera strapped between my legs filming my backside.”

  With a
chuckle from the men, he got up and posed near the operating gurneys. With
several pictures taken, the skinny photographer asked to photograph all the
officers seated near the fire. Immediately, they stood and posed for the
camera.

  As the
photographer finished and was about to pack up his equipment, he spotted
David’s applets. With a general's star on each and a medical insignia pinned to
his hat, curiosity got the better of the photographer.

  “Sir,
I noticed you are a Brigadier General. I also noticed the medical insignia in
your hat. Is this a mistake?” asked the photographer of David, trying to be
delicate about his question.

  “Not
at all, lad. It's just rare. Actually, the truth is I've never heard of any
doctor becoming a Brigadier General either. I could be mistaken, but I believe
David is the first,” Dr. Morgan cut in proudly.

  “The
first? Well, General Warner, would I be able to photograph you?” the skinny man
asked.

  As
David stood by the gurneys, the photographer pressed further. Calling to the
other doctors, he asked, “Doctors, could you stand beside Gen. Warner? It might
help to authenticate the photograph.”

 
Feeling a bit insulted, one doctor replied, “Ain’t we good enough to stand as
equals? We got to stand in as tools?”

  “Oh, I
am sorry for that implication, sir; of course not. You should all be in the
photograph,” the skinny man replied, hoping his mistake would be let go.

  With a
slight grunt, the angered doctor moved near David. As he did, others followed,
all except Dr. Morgan.