So much to do, so little time...2 AM it's very late, end of
a long day, year, designing, building-testing....
I'm not sure where the diary came from, it's cover warn and edges rounded
from dry rot, but enough of it survived for me to read-to entice me. Collette's words reached
out across time to me as if the 149 year void that separated me from her did not exist.
This last time I finished the little book it was different, I was about to embark on a
journey and hopefully face her; and what of the dangers involved? Einstein's time paradox?
Would I create an endless loop from her life to mine, endlessly repeating for ever?
My theory was that this would not happen, because there is no future, just a wave
of new creation each moment.
The apparatus: what can I say, a few paper clips, rubber bands,
resistors, and some contraband spent fuel cartridges from Russia. I stuffed it all into a
metal container with a shoulder strap-to many Flash Gorden flicks I guess. There are no
dials, it runs off a timer and the destination is controlled by the amount of fuel and
crossed fingers.
5 AM, Friday September 15 1999, my destination: Friday September 5
early morning 1849, Alabama and to meet Collette, see the way things were. Standing in a
field, in Alabama, the sun is low in the horizon. My watch ticks away as I wait and then I
hear a whine in the backpack, a sudden jerk, flash of light. I'm a little
disoriented-dizzy and pushed violently to the ground. laying there for a few minutes until
I felt better, is this it I wondered?
I dressed as close as I could get to the period, a southern gentlemen
and 'procured' a small fortune in the form of cash from a local museum before I left. I
removed the backpack and hide it well in the surrounding woods, walked back out into the
field towards a road. I had studied the area for months, not much has changed here in 150
years, so I was very confident that I would 'land' in the same field. The sun was just
about over the horizon, it's now early morning, though moments before the sky was
cloudless, now, the quarter moon peaked in and out of clouds.
Yes, I believe I was on the correct road, there was the well next to
the hanging tree Collette mentioned in her diary-her place would soon be in site. I was
becoming very excited. I passed some slaves starting to work in a field nearby, one looked
up at me and turned back to her work. Slaves? My God I thought, this is unfucking
believable.
I approached her large house-southern mansion!. According to her diary she lived there
alone, she did mention a number of times "the old creaking, empty house"; I'm
sure that she lives in it alone, if not I'll adjust my story. Her parents left the entire
plantation to her, odd that she never married or even mentioned any man in her diary. One
passage in it read "last night, Millie tied her favorite slave and .fu." but the
rest of the page was torn. I should somehow mention this the Collette, see what she was
talking about. However, I thought I had better not, because I wasn't sure if the event
happened in her future or not.
I knocked on the large maple door, about 1 minute later it door opened,
a young black women asked me pleasantly with a thick southern and African drawl what my
business was.
"My name is Howard Davis, I'm a lawyer from Scharlett, North
Carolina. I'm here to discuss a Large bequest with the lady of the house " I answered
with a flawless southern accent.
'Com-on ne Sear' she motioned stepping back. I entered and sat in a
chair offered to me in the visitors library. Soon Collette entered and I stood up as she
walked to me, hand outstretched. I gently took it, bent and kissed it-my heart
pounding in my chest.
"Mr. Davis, welcome to my home. I understand that you are from
Scharlett and here on legal matters" she said.
"Yes Miss..err..can I call you Collette?"' I asked.
"Yes, indeed you may, and I will call you Howard?" Collette replied
smiling. From that point we hit it off fabulously. I told her my well plColletted story and
handed her a envelope containing 'the' money and informing her that it was only the first
installment. She showed me around her home and plantation and as I had expected invited me
to stay a day or two before heading back to North Carolina. I agreed.
Of course, I knew much more about her then she knew of me. Her
favorite, song, color and time of year, fears. I used the information she supplied from
her dairy to soon gain her confidence. I found myself beginning to feel strangely attached
to her, I did feel guilty for what I was doing but was compelled by my mission, scientific
advance, or deep inner loneliness. Where could this go, I found myself thinking. I could
never stay and she could never know where I'm from, or that I was to be born 110 years in
the future. The Civil war, War War II, the holocaust and I all in the future, all
unimaginable and unbelievable.
We meet for dinner, it was served by the same young slave who let me in
earlier today. She was dark and exotic and beyond her broken 'English' seemed very
intelligent. The food was simple, very tasty. My first taste of unprocessed food in my
like.
"Becky, is my most cherished slave, Howard" She said. I
nodded and commented on how "well-behaved" she was. This was difficult for me,
to sit and be served by a slave, yet it was strangely satisfying. I wondered how far,
slave owners went with this, or how common it was for "other" services...
"Howard, if I can be honest with you?" Queried Collette.
"Yes of course, I replied!" beginning to feel a little
nervous about the situation; reality beginning flower in me, something was up.
"Your different, I've never met anybody quite like you. You are
mysterious as if you're hiding a terrible secret. Are you? I believe there is much more to
you then meets the eye, yes Mr. Davis so much more then meets the eye. We have a happy and
secure here on the plantation. All my slaves are well cared for and I'm we'll taken care
of myself. But I still feel that your in some way alien to us."
I sat motionless, like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar,
waiting for her to finish. Her directness startled me. "Howard, that money you gave
me, is dated 1850, but it's 1849. Can you explain this?" she asked.
"Well, Collette..." I started to say.
"Mr. Davis, there was a flash early this morning, before dawn.
I understand a lot of people in the county saw it, their all talking about it. I've
noticed that your speech is strained , even the way you walk... very different "
Suddenly I wondered, why didn't she mention me in the diary or was I on a missing
page...? |