Tear In Time (42 page)

 
“David, don't keep an old man waiting. Aren't you going to open it?” Dr. Morgan
asked.

  David
looked down at the envelope again, then back to Dr. Morgan and replied, “I'm
not ready yet. A day ago I said goodbye to a man I considered the greatest
influence of my life. It was probably the most painful thing I've ever done. I
think I want to wait a little while before I cross that road again.”

  Dr.
Morgan wore the look of disappointment on his face. He had speculated for years
on the contents of the letter. Now, just on the brink of discovery, his hopes
were dashed once more. Even though he sympathized with David, he could hardly
contain his impatience.

  In a
quiet and understanding tone, Dr. Morgan said, “I know the letter is none of my
business, David, but I would be grateful to you if I could learn of
great-great-granddad Jebidiah's words.”

  “Of
course, Phin. I wouldn't think of keeping it from you. I'll call you at the
first opportunity,” David replied. “I just need a little time.”

  “Thank
you, David,” Dr. Morgan responded.

  David
returned to the box. Pushing aside more memories, he found his way to the
bottom once more. In a moment of surprise, David's eyes widened and he smiled
slightly at this new discovery. Reaching in, he pulled out his five dollar
bill. On the face of the bill was Andrew Jackson. He studied it a moment, then
spoke.

  “I
guess you've probably seen this before, huh?” David asked.

  “Now that
you've mentioned it, yes. My family has found years of entertainment
speculating on what that bill must have looked like when Stonewall’s image was
imprinted on the face,” Dr. Morgan answered.

  “A
different Jackson? Wow, what are the chances...” David responded, still
examining the money.

 
“Apparently pretty good, I'd say,” Dr. Morgan replied.

  David
studied the bill for a moment, then placed it on the bed next to him. He stared
at Dr. Morgan for a second or two, formulating his next question.

  “I
have a question for you, Phin,” David asked.

 
“Shoot,” Dr. Morgan replied.

  “Well,
I stepped through the time portal and landed back in 1862. In the 1880s, Doc
compiled this package and sent it along in time with his relatives because he
figured one of you would save me when I reappeared in the future. I understand
the whole philosophy behind that plan your family followed except for one
detail. When 2005 came along and I was getting ready to enter that elevator,
why didn't you just stop me from going in the first place?” David questioned.

  “What,
and spoil all the fun?” Dr. Morgan joked. “Seriously though, our family
struggled with this very question. In the end, it was decided not to interfere
with the natural order of things. To be perfectly honest with you, we weren't
too sure if you were even going to exist after you left 1863. You changed the
future and we really didn't know if that change was going to prevent your
parents from meeting, or you attending medical school, or even you visiting the
time portal at the precise moment it opened up.”

  “But I
did show up and I did visit the time portal. Couldn’t you just have been
waiting at the elevator to stop me from entering after that young girl died?”
David asked.

 
“David, the truth of the matter is my family, down through the century, decided
it would be best for humanity if we just let you enter that time portal. You
single-handedly changed the length and outcome of the Civil War. By shortening
it by two years, you saved tens of thousands of lives … possibly even hundreds
of thousands. Your injury, while painful and tragic, was a small price to pay
in comparison to the unimaginable death and suffering it saved.”

  “Doc,
I don’t have to imagine it. I was there, and you’re right. I would have done
the same thing in your position. I spent a year and a half trying to prevent
death and suffering. Knowing what I know now, a bullet wound for a shortened
war is an easy decision to make.”

  “You
made the noblest of trades, David,” Dr. Morgan replied.

  As Dr.
Morgan spoke, David winced a bit and laid back against the gurney. Seeing his
pain, Dr. Morgan said softly, “David, I'm sure you have a million questions for
me, but I can see you’re in need of some rest.  Why don't I lower the
backrest and you get some sleep?”

  Dr.
Morgan pushed a button on bed panel and activated the recline function. As he
did, he added, “Besides, you are quite the national sensation right now. You're
going to need your rest.”

  “The press?”
David blurted out in shock.

  “Oh
yeah, and not just the press either. You've got Civil War buffs as well as the
press lined up in the parking lot, waiting to get a glimpse of you. Photos of
you during the war are skyrocketing on eBay. Washington is already setting up
to hold a national celebration with you as the guest of honor. I even heard on
the news that there is speculation on whether they have to pay you for active
duty as a Brigadier General, since you were never discharged from service. As
they see it right now, you’re still actively employed in the US Army. Can you
believe it?” Dr. Morgan said, his voice showing greater excitement with each
new revelation.

 
“Almost seems worth getting shot in the back with a friggin' cannon,” David joked.
He laid back and closed his eyes, then said, “So, can I have my old job back?”

 
“David, when the dust settles, I'll be asking you for a job,” Dr. Morgan
replied with a smile.

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

  The
front lawn of the White House was charged with energy. Even before the ceremony
started, cameras flashed in continual repetition as the press, and civilians
alike, recorded history in the making. As the throngs of humanity lined the
perimeter of federal land, security inside the premises raced to make final
arrangements for the President of the United States, Barrack Obama.

  David
stood in front of a portrait of Ulysses S. Grant and studied his features.
Slowly moving through the hall, he stopped at a glass case that housed unique
artifacts from past presidents. Seeing his reflection in the glass, he fixed
his buttons and straightened his hat, ensuring he looked presentable in his
Civil War Brigadier General's uniform, which had been carefully cleaned and
pressed for the occasion.

  As he
examined his appearance once more, he noticed another reflection in the glass
behind him.

 
“Looking good, David,” Dr. Morgan said, standing behind David now.

  “Is
anything out of place? God, I'm so nervous,” David replied instantly.

 
“You’ll do fine, David. Just relax. Right now, you could do no wrong. Hell, you
could fart on stage and people would run to collect it,” Dr. Morgan joked.

  “By
the way, I just wanted to thank you for understanding about the letter. I just
didn't think there was any better way to handle it,” David said,
apologetically.

  “At
first, David, I thought to myself, 'I'm going to kill him', but after thinking
about it, I had to agree. Your idea is wonderful,” Dr. Morgan replied.

  David looked
into Dr. Morgan's eyes provokingly and asked, “You nervous?”

  “I've
changed out my shorts three times already,” Dr. Morgan replied.

  David
laughed a moment, not so much at the doctor's response but more at the irony
that the last time he heard someone use that response, it was Dr. Jeb Morgan
who used it, back in 1863.

 
Suddenly, the two heard trumpets sound and a band begin to play 'Hail to the
Chief'. From around a corner, Rahm Emanuel, the President’s chief of staff,
came charging to their side and requested their presence near the doors to the
front lawn. Moments later, they stood and listened to the final sentences from
President Obama's eloquent introduction.

  “...
and so, it is my greatest honor and privilege that I present to you Brigadier
General Dr. David Warner,” President Obama announced with enthusiasm.

  As
President Obama turned to greet David, he extended his hand. David quickly
walked to the waiting President and shook his hand as the President then pulled
David in close for a sincere hug. Standing back, he offered David the
elaborately decorated podium.

  David
stood at the podium and waited as the thousands of onlookers cheered wildly,
creating too much noise for David to begin. As the noise finally died a bit, he
cleared his throat and started.

  “My
friends, thank you for your interest in my wellbeing. It is an honor, and I am
quite humbled to be standing before you here, accepting such praise and glory
by such wonderful people. But unfortunately, I am not the one who deserves your
respect and attention. Four years ago, I stepped into that time portal and was
sent back to the year 1862. It would not be an understatement if I told you I
was not a willing traveler, to say the least. When I stepped forward into 1862,
I was not some brave hero that volunteered to save the world. I was not a
military genius that offered my services to a losing cause. I was just an
ordinary man who stepped in the wrong direction and was caught in a violent
time without a door to return through.” David said, fidgeting a bit with
nervousness.

  David
straightened his hat to shade his eyes from the sun and continued, “My first
few minutes in that new world were the scariest of my life. Prior to that
event, the closest I had come to death was riding the subway after 11pm. With
one small, innocent step, I was instantly propelled into a desperate, primitive
world without the skills to survive. If it were not for the kind and selfless
acts of one man, I would most assuredly not be standing here today. I was saved
by a genuine hero. He is the man who you should be celebrating here today. He
is the man responsible for carrying a torch of my return. Nothing can be said
of me that should not include this hero's name, and that hero is Dr. Jebadiah
Morgan.

  “What
can be said about a man of such strength and unselfish loyalty?  From the
minute I arrived, Doc served as a second father to me, guiding me with patience
and respect. He watched over me and ensured my safety at all times. His intelligence
and common sense were amazing, as he quickly learned and practiced advanced
medical techniques. To Doc, all men were equal and he treated the wounded enemy
just as he treated our own men: with understanding and compassion.”

  David
took a small drink of water, then continued, “I'll never forget the look on
Doc's face when I told him I was a time traveler. Even though he was skeptical,
he never abandoned his loyalty. With patience and understanding, he allowed me
to prove to him my authenticity. When he realized I was not of his time, he was
keenly aware of my lack of skills needed for survival. He never tired as he
spent hours with me, teaching me to shoot various weapons with great accuracy,
ride horses, hunt for food, mend my clothes, command troops effectively with
honor and respect. Doc gave me the courage to fight in battle when I was on the
verge of retreat.

  “If
these traits and qualities were not great enough, this amazing man taught me
the meaning of duty, honor and loyalty to my fellow man, as a way of life. I
owe this man so much. I hope this tribute in some small way helps to repay my
thanks for his friendship.

  “Upon
my return home, Doc gathered my belongings, as well as other articles relating
to our time together. I guess it was his way of saying hello to me after he was
gone. His plan instructed his descendants to pass the contents of the box along
from descendant to descendant, until one was able to deliver them to me. As I
awoke from my surgery, just as Doc had intended, one of his descendants
delivered to me the package. As we went through the contents, I found a letter
Doc had written to me.

  “By
now, you all have probably figured out that Doc was the greatest friend of my
life, and now, during this great ceremony, I believe it would be befitting if I
had another great friend of mine, Dr. Phineas Morgan, great-great-grandson to
Doc Jebidiah Morgan, read aloud to you the letter that was passed down through
generations as a message to me. You people here today will be listening to its
contents for the first time as I will be. Please welcome my friend Phineas.”