Prisoner in Time (Time travel) (19 page)

"Well, I think you're just jealous because my plans are working out fine so far,” he retorted.

"Jealous? Fine? Geoff, this is not some video game we're playing here. This is real life. You need to come to grips with the danger you're in."

"And you need to come to grips with the fact that I don't care what you have to say,” he shot back, his tone filled with contempt. “You told me the time portal didn't work, yet here we are. You made it sound like going back to the correct time was an impossibility, but that was wrong too. So far I've been right and you've been wrong. Frankly, I think you're just a bullshitter and I'm not listening to you anymore."

With a nod of self-confidence, he turned and hurried out of the large canvas tent.

"Geoff..." David called loudly, wincing in pain as he shouted. "Geoff, wait."

He waited momentarily but with no response, laid his head back down on the bed and thought about their previous exchange.

"Man, what's it going to take to get through to this kid," he thought to himself. Struggling for an answer, he came to a startling conclusion, "No matter what I say, he won't trust my word... I can't help him."

David felt dread as he replayed the words over and over in his mind. As frustration mounted, he struggled for some kind of solution.

"I need to find someone neutral... someone he'll listen to," he thought to himself. Continuing on, he said aloud, "And someone who believes in time travel."

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of the statement.

"I might as well be looking for Santa Claus."

The image of the white-bearded old man instantly appeared in his mind. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the elderly man he once saw standing in front of a Wal-Mart, dressed in a cheap red Santa-suit, collecting donations for the poor. In his mind, he could almost hear the bell the old man jingled.

Suddenly, David's face lost all expression. His mind raced as he thought about the white-bearded man.

"Hmm, Santa," he mumbled to himself cryptically. "Sure could use his help right about now."

-----*-----*-----*-----

Four days later:

David followed behind the slovenly dressed private, limping slightly as he walked. Carrying his newly requisitioned musket in one hand and holding a rucksack to his shoulder with the other, he took deliberate steps, trying to minimize the discomfort. As the two rushed through the sea of tents, he stepped on a stone that shifted his hips. Wincing in pain, he called out to the private, “Hey buddy, what’s your hurry? You realize I’ve been wounded, don’t you?”

“Sorry,” the private said apologetically, never taking his eyes off his course.

Slowing his pace, he continued on his path. He stopped momentarily, shielded his eyes with his hand and gazed intently at a row of tents near the edge of the distant forest. Satisfied with their identity, the private nodded to himself and continued on. Minutes later, he stopped far short of his destination and pointed.

“That last one out yonder…that’s your’n,” the private announced unceremoniously. “Y’all ‘ill be a’sharin’ your tent with that other feller.”

David chuckled slightly to himself, then replied, “Do you know how the other feller’s doing?”

“I ain’t had no words with him ‘cept a nod when the Sarge introduced us, is all,” the private responded.

“Hmm, ok… well, thanks for showing me my tent,” David replied with a cordial smile.

The private stared for a moment, seemingly confused.

“Y’all talk funny,” he said.

Without another word, he turned and hurried off between the tents. David’s brow furrowed slightly as he watched the young man disappear into the sea of humanity. He shook his head in puzzlement, then turned and made his way to the last tent in the row along the forest.

As he approached, he saw Geoff lying on his side, resting under the hastily assembled tent. With the sound of approaching footsteps, the teen’s eyes opened and he raised his head in observation. Instinctively, he smiled at the first sight of a familiar face, then quickly became expressionless upon the reality that that man was David.

“I see you’re adjusting well. What do you think about our new home?” David asked, half joking.

“I think it sucks. I froze my ass off last night,” he shot back angrily.

“Aww, don’t worry, you’ll learn to love it… especially when it rains,” he responded sarcastically.

“What happens when it rains?”

Pointing to the edges of the tent, David continued. “See how the tent doesn’t touch the ground? Well, those open areas let in large amounts of rain. It’s a lot of fun in a storm,” he chuckled aloud.

The teen sat up. Hunched over due to the tent’s tight constraints, he looked around to confirm David’s claim.

“What the hell, man! We might as well be sleeping under a freakin’ umbrella,” Geoff snarled.

“Yup. But look on the bright side.”

“There’s a bright side?” he asked, curiously.

“Yeah. At least now when you fart in your sleep, I won’t have to smell it,” David chided.

“Ha ha, you’re a real comedian,” Geoff responded, trying not to laugh.

“I admit my material’s weak, but hey, you gotta give me credit for trying, right?”

“I guess,” Geoff replied, his mood improving slightly. Crawling out of the tent, he continued. “So, what now? What happens next?” he asked, now coming to his feet in front of David.

“I don’t know. Did anyone speak to you yet?”

“Not yet. They just gave me this tent, an old gun, a backpack filled with junk and told me to wait for further orders,” he responded in disgusted tone.

“What’ve you been doing for food?” David asked, concerned.

“Mostly starving. There were some crackers and fruit in my pack, but I ate all that. I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday.”

“Hmm, not good. I was afraid of this,” he said, his expression turning apprehensive.

“Afraid of what?” Geoff asked, not sure if he wanted to hear this answer.

“We’re on the side of the Confederacy now, in the latter stages of the war. They’re mostly on the run and their supplies are low. At this point, you kind of have to fend for yourself,” David explained.

“No way, they have to at least feed us,” Geoff responded incredulously.

David rolled his eyes in dread. “You’d think so, right? But, that’s not the reality. They only have so much to go around, so they ration out what they can and expect you to find the rest on your own.”

“On our own? Where? It’s not like there’s a grocery store just down the street,” he said, in disbelief.

“Foraging and hunting are the main sources of extra food. If you have something worthwhile, you might be able to trade it for something extra, but most are in the same boat as you and value food over material objects,” David explained.

“Wow, this really sucks,” Geoff responded in frustration, now pacing back in forth in worry. He stopped in front of David and said aloud, “This is unbelievable. So what are we going to do now?”

“First of all, you need to calm down. Take a deep breath and collect yourself. This isn’t a crisis. Every man around you here is going through the same thing you are and none of them are dropping like flies. Keep a cool head and think through the problem,” David said firmly, but calmly.

Geoff took a deep breath and exhaled.

“Ok, I’m calm. Now what?”

“Typically, a group of men is assigned to each other. They’re called a mess… as in ‘clean up that mess,’” David joked. With little reaction from Geoff, he continued. “Seeing that you and I were found together, I’m assuming they’re considering us our own mess, so we’re going to have to pool our resources and work together to maintain food and shelter.”

Geoff nodded in understanding. He felt relieved he wasn’t alone and for a moment, softened his mood. David stared into his eyes, and reflected back on his own time travel experience. He could see the same fears and desperation in the teen he had felt years before and now couldn’t help but feel responsible for the sad turn in the teen’s life.

Struggling with his guilt, he placed his hand on Geoff’s shoulder and spoke: “I know you may think you’re all alone, but you’re not. I’m here and you can depend on me.”

Geoff stared at David, then down to the hand on his shoulder. Although he appreciated the gesture, the hand felt uncomfortable, like a misused word in a sentence. Quickly, he brushed it aside. Realizing the callousness of his action, he nodded simply and said, “Thanks.”

Ignoring the minor insult, David chose to move forward. “Ok, first things first: we’re going to need a fire. If you can search the forest for some wood, I’ll sort through the provisions in my pack and figure out what kind of food we can make from them. Sound ok?”

For a moment, he thought about the plan. He felt the balance of work was a bit unfair, but was too hungry to challenge David over the assignment of duties. He gave an apprehensive nod and responded, “I guess.”

As Geoff turned toward the forest, David bent over and reached for his pack. Pain shot through his back as his wound twisted and stretched. He gritted his teeth and let out a low guttural moan. For a moment, he closed his eyes and took low shallow breaths. With the pain slowly subsiding, he opened his eyes once more.

“I got it,” Geoff said, bending down for the pack.

David stood quickly in surprise. He hadn’t expected the sympathetic gesture from Geoff and smiled with appreciation as he received the pack.

Geoff noticed David smiling back at him. The distaste he felt for him was now replaced by compassion. The emotion made him feel uncomfortable and confused. Without another word, he turned and headed back toward the woods.

Although he still felt the tension between them, David welcomed the moment of relief.

“Alright,” he said to himself in satisfaction. “A breakthrough.”

-----*-----*-----*-----

Four hours later:

The glow from the campfire lit up their faces and the welcomed heat warmed their bodies. The two sat quietly and sipped their coffee, each lost in their thoughts as they stared into the flames. Listening to the sounds of the crackling wood, few words were spoken and as time passed, an uncomfortable silence began to develop.

“How’d you like the stew?” David asked, employing small talk to combat the quiet.

“As I said before, it sucked,” Geoff responded bluntly.

“You’re going to laugh at this one: that stew we just ate was probably the best food you’re going to eat while you’re here.”

“I’m not laughing,” he shot back in serious tone.

“I know. I nearly gagged on the salted pork and the rutabaga could have been cooked longer. I think the potato tasted okay though. What do you think?”

“It all sucked. The pork was greasy and gross. That crunchy rutabaga thing tasted like sour shit and the potato didn’t have any flavor at all. I thought you said you were a good cook?”

“Trust me Geoff, this was good. You’re not going to believe some of the stuff you’ll be forced to eat while you’re here,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Like what?”

“Well, there was this one time we’d run out of food and had to resort to boiling the bones of a possum. The old doctor I was sharing a tent with, added some grass to the mix,” he explained.

“No way,” Geoff blurted in disbelief.

“Way,” David joked, then continued, “We then boiled it for a couple of hours. After we removed the bones and teeth, we were left with a sludgy broth that tasted like sewer water, only worse. I had to hold my nose just to keep me from puking while I drank cupfuls of that crap.”

“I think I’d rather starve,” he said indignantly.

“Yeah, that’s what I said too… until I really
was
starving. At that point, I would have boiled my own underwear for soup,” he joked again.

“Eeeeuu,” Geoff groaned loudly, laughing. “Man, you’ll eat anything, won’t you?”

“Not quite. I would have drawn the line at the old doc’s underwear.”

Geoff burst out in loud laughter, nearly spilling his tin of coffee on the ground.

“Man, that’s too funny,” Geoff responded.

“Hey, a man’s got to know his limits,” David said, sarcastically.

“Yeah, otherwise you might end up eating another guy’s shorts,” Geoff shot back, laughing.

For the next few minutes, the two sat quietly and listened to the crackle of the fire. Mesmerized by the flames, Geoff began to think of his future.

“What do you think will happen next?” he said, staring at the reddening coals.

“They’ll probably train us to fight,” David replied, truthfully.

“What do you think the chances are of me being shot between now and December?” he asked bluntly.

David thought about the question. His first instinct was to sugarcoat his reply, but upon his second thought, he realized that the hard truth was what the teen needed to hear.

“If I had to guess, I’d say there’s probably a thirty percent chance you’ll be wounded or killed.”

“THIRTY PERCENT?” Geoff blurted loudly in surprise. “No way, it can’t be that high.”

“From what I’ve read, the death toll for the North was ten percent and the toll for the South was thirty. And that doesn’t even account for civilians.”

Geoff sat stunned for a moment. Staring into the fire, his mind raced with fear.

“That’s like three out of every ten guys gets killed,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief.

“It’s not
like
three out of ten… it
is
three out of ten men will die and in some instances, that percent is much higher,” he replied, then continued. “I was once in a battle where nearly every soldier in the enemy’s regiment was killed. I was just lucky enough to be on the winning side… and even then, I was wounded.”

“Man, you’ve been wounded a lot, haven’t you?” Geoff asked.

“Unfortunately, yes… and that was when I was fighting on the side of the North,” he said, his tone rising in pitch. “Unfortunately, I…” David corrected himself in mid-sentence. “WE… will be fighting on the side of the South. It scares me to even think about our chances of survival.”

Geoff sat in stunned silence. David had rocked the naive teen to his core. If he were to save his brother, he knew he needed to increase his chances of survival.

“This is awful. We need to do something about this. We’re both going to be killed.”

“Now don’t go to pieces on me. Remember what I said to you before: keep a cool head and think through the problem,” David responded in calm tone. “Can you think of a solution to this mess?”

“Uh uh,” he replied.

“Well, I can. I say we get out of here now and head back to the time portal. It’s still not too late,” David responded.

“That’s not an answer. My brother’s dead and I have a chance to save him. I won’t give up on him, even if it cost me my own life,” he spat, angrily.

“Geoff, you just said you were worried about being killed and now you’re saying you don’t care.”

“That’s NOT what I said. You’re just twisting my words around. My fear is not that I might die. My fear is that I might die before saving my brother. At thirty percent or higher, those are awful odds at saving him.”

“Well, there’s not much chance at lowering those odds, now that we’ve been drafted on the side of the South,” David countered.