Another Place Episode 33

Another Place Another Time

Book Two

Luke and Traveler

Episode Thirty-Three

There was silence in the large, warm kitchen. I guessed that they were giving me some time to digest everything I’d heard. I looked at Rick and said, “I love an adventure as much as anybody. As far out as it sounds, I believe everything all of you have told me.”

Rick said, “Boy, you got it quick. Frankly, if I were you, I would have probably shot somebody by now.”

I laughed, “Trust me. I considered it, but I got so caught up in Charlie’s story, I was afraid I would miss something if I started shooting.”

Andy raised his hand and everyone looked at him. His eyes twinkled then he glanced at Lois, seated beside him, and across the table at me, “I don’t think Charlie’s story is everything that you believe…”

Before he could say anything else, Lois swatted him on the back of the head, something that I suspected happened often in any given day. Then all three Parkers laughed. Charlie joined in and Traveler barked. I was blushing when I joined in the laughter.

When some order returned to the room, Rick said to me, “I was sure lucky when I picked you to stop. I let the first two rigs go past.”

“Why did you let them go? And more important, why did you pick me?”

“That’s easy; we need you to get the water to Charlie’s airplane. We have an old Army water trailer in the barn. Daddy used it to haul water to cattle on the backside of the farm during the summer. It’ll hold 6,000 gallons. The problem is we don’t have a truck to pull it.”

“How did your Daddy pull it?” I asked.

“He had a truck just for the job, but we don’t raise cattle anymore so we sold it.”

Andy added, “it’s fortunate there wasn’t a market for the trailer or we would have sold it when we sold the truck.”

“Okay, but why me? You said you let two rigs pass through before you stopped me. Why did you do that?”

“Well, the first rig that came by was a van line. That guy was driving a single axle tractor. I’m not sure a single axle will pull a loaded water wagon into the field. The second truck through was a Roadway truck. Roadway is a regular freight carrier. I don’t know a lot about your business, but I figured somebody, somewhere, keeps close tabs on where that rig is, all the time. Then you came along. There’s never been a regular truck line in the world willing to invest their money in a truck like yours.”

I laughed.

“I figured you must be the owner.”

I nodded, admiring his logic, “Not bad reasoning for somebody not in the business.”

He grinned, and for just a moment he looked like a ten-year-old who had hit his first little league home run. That expression remained on his face for a moment, and then he quickly returned to his explanation.

“A couple of other things clinched it. It sounds like you have power to burn, maybe a big CAT engine?” He raised his eyebrows.

I nodded, “That’s right, 450 horsepower. Is that all? If there’s more, I need to know right now.”

Lois, Andy, and Rick looked at one another for a moment. Then Lois said, “There is something else, Luke. We figure we don’t have long to get Charlie moving. If we can believe half of what we hear about the government and UFO’s, we know they are looking now and looking hard.”

She paused and Rick picked up the conversation, “I had to pick a truck as quickly as I could. You were the first one who had everything I was looking for.”

I thought about what I had heard in the past twenty minutes. “You know, if the Army, the Air force, the FBI, or CIA or whoever handles this comes swooping down on us before we get Charlie back in the sky, there is no telling what will happen…to all of us.”

There was a moment’s silence then Rick said, “We talked about that and realized that whatever happened if they caught us, would probably happen even if we called them. So, we have a major problem whether we call or don’t call, and the only way to avoid that problem is to get Charlie back in the air before we’re caught. Let’s face it; we have nothing to lose and everything to gain by giving this a shot.”

He was silent for a few seconds, and then he continued, “On the other hand, Luke, we live here. This is our farm, our land. We are here and we can’t change that, in fact, we wouldn’t if we could, but you are here by invitation, so to speak. We need you, but if you want to avoid the risk of a memorable meeting with the feds…well, now is the time to leave.”

You may think I’m the dumbest guy that ever walked, but I never even considered the possibility of leaving. In fact, I was a bit ticked that Rick would suggest it. I said, “I wasn’t trying to pull out. I only wanted to make sure you had thought everything out. Now, let’s take a look at the water wagon.”

A lot of tension left the room. Rick smiled, “There’s a little problem with the trailer.”

“Problem?” I said, “It is here, isn’t it?”

Already up and heading for the door, he said without stopping or turning, “Yeah, it’s here, it just doesn’t have any tires.”

I jumped up so quickly my chair fell over, “What do you mean no tires?” I shouted at the open porch door.

********

I caught Rick halfway between the house and the equipment shed. “What do you mean there are no tires?” I shouted again, this time at his back, as he continued toward the shed.

He stopped, turned toward me and said, “Calm down, Luke. The tires were rotten, so we scrapped them a couple of years ago. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

“No problem! How am I going to pull a trailer with no tires? Just explain that one to me.”

“We’ll just take the tires off your trailer and put them on the water wagon. Simple.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, “Rick, do you know how many tire sizes there are on the road? Not to mention wheel types?” I asked, as he opened the door and disappeared inside the shed.

I was hard on his heels when he said, “That’s another item I checked when I picked you for the job. I can’t be sure, because I didn’t have time to check closely when you pulled up to the stop sign, but I’m almost positive your trailer wheels and tires will fit the water wagon. I guess you could say that’s an educated guess, you see, I used to work summers and part-time changing tires and fixing flats at a truck stop.”

That took some steam out of me. “Oh, well, why didn’t you say so?”

Rick stepped into the equipment shed without bothering to answer my question. He flipped a switch beside the door and a triple row of overhead fluorescent lights lit every nook and cranny of the shed. The building was as well-equipped as any mechanic’s shop I’d ever seen. It had a concrete floor, insulation between each wall stud and two large gas heaters suspended from the ceiling. There were three huge John Deere tractors parked in the first three bays, and two other pieces of mechanical equipment that I couldn’t identify in the next two bays, followed by the final bay where I saw the “water wagon.”

The wheels and tires were gone, replaced by stands under the rear suspension. I looked at the front dollies and noted they were heavy-duty, built to hold the trailer even when fully loaded. I walked to the rear of the trailer, stopped beside the hubs and noted that Rick had been right. My trailer tires would fit.

“You’re right. They are the same size and wheel type. However, let’s talk about the next issue….”

Before I could continue Rick said, “Do you mean the fact that your trailer is loaded?”

“That’s it exactly.”

“That’s going to be easy. First, you drop your dollies and then pull out from under the trailer. We’ll use two of our tractors to lift the rear of the trailer and then we’ll put four jacks under the rear suspension. We have air impact wrenches and a dual wheel tire jack to lift and move each set of wheels and tires. Then all we have to do is move each set into the shed and put them on the trailer.”

“You make it sound easy.”

Rick grinned, “It will be.”

Just then, Andy, Charlie, and Lois came into the shed. In the brightest most optimistic voice, I had heard since meeting Charlie and the Parker’s, Lois said, “Well, guys, what are you standing around for? Let’s get this show on the road.”

I wasn’t fully aware of it then, but looking back, I’m sure that was the moment I fell hopelessly in love with her. However, there was no time to dwell on that right then, but I knew there would be.

*********

I lowered the dollies, released the kingpin, unhooked the brake and air lines, and then drove the tractor out from under the trailer. The Parkers immediately went to work with Charlie, Traveler, and me standing to one side watching. Like a well-coached team, with minimum conversation between them, they lifted the back of the trailer, placed four heavy-duty truck jacks under each end of both axles and then lowered the trailer onto the jacks.

Lois and Andy backed their tractors away and in seconds, they were moving down the pathway to hook-up their haybines before cutting the field to hide any evidence of Charlie’s landing.

Less than an hour later, Rick and I had finished transferring the wheels and tires from my trailer to the water wagon, and I was backing my tractor under the old tanker. The kingpin locked into position, and I jumped out of the cab. Rick was standing beside the dolly crank.

I said, “Rick, cross your fingers the brakes will work all right.”

He laughed, “I’ve thought of that. If for some reason they don’t, it won’t take but a few minutes to release them and we’ll move it without trailer brakes.”

I connected the airlines and heard the long unused brakes activate, and called out, “No need for plan B, it’s our lucky night.”

With Traveler in the sleeper box and Charlie in the passenger seat, I had a moment of recollection to the time, three hours earlier when Rick had climbed, uninvited, into the cab.

Rick climbed up on the running board beside my open window and said, “I’m going to get my tractor out of the shed. When I come past you, follow me. I’ll go the way Andy and Lois went. About a hundred feet down the drive, you’ll see a drive that goes back to the right toward the barn. I’ll turn there, you follow me and stop the water wagon under the overhead pipe, and you’ll see the spigot to line up with.”

In a minute or so, I was lining the tanker up with a four-inch overhead water spigot. Rick climbed up on the trailer, dropped the filler hose in the front compartment and opened the spigot. As he rinsed down the compartment he explained, “This is the main water line from a deep artesian well. The water is so pure that we use it for everything on the farm. Although I’ve never measured it, I suspect the flow rate is better than 2 gallons a second.”

The trailer had three compartments. The capacity of each one was 2,000 gallons. Even with a quick wash down of the first two compartments, the only ones that we used, and moving the fill hose from one to another, we finished loading in a little over an hour.

I didn’t look at my watch, but I guessed it was after midnight. In the distance, I could hear Andy and Lois cutting the hay field.

We still had to get the water from the trailer into Charlie’s aircraft and though there was plenty of darkness left, the storm had stopped raging, and I suspected it wouldn’t be long before the fog lifted and search planes or helicopters could easily spot us. A shiver ran through me at the thought.

Charlie, Traveler and I, followed Rick’s John Deere to Charlie’s aircraft. I shut down, and Rick pulled up beside me and shouted down from the cab of the massive John Deere, “I’m going to go and help Andy and Lois finish cutting the hay field. Give us a blast on your horn when you two finish.”

I waved and he drove away.

Charlie drained the polluted water out of his aircraft, and we rigged the old pump mounted on the rear of the water wagon to Charlie’s water filler pipe. That was the only way to get the water into the aircraft, since Charlie’s internal pump relied on power from his engines, which weren’t running. We’d tested the pump at the shed, but I still held my breath when I pulled the starter cord. The pump came to life on the first pull, and I breathed again.

I post two episodes of Another Place Another Time every week

For info on receiving each episode directly on your Kindle click here
Or, if you don’t want to wait, click here to purchase the complete Kindle version of the book.

Currently I’m working on The Mystic Trilogy – the first volume – The Sages – it is posted weekly – click here to read the first and all subsequent episodes.

Another Place Episode 32

Another Place Another Time

Book Two

Luke and Traveler

Episode Thirty-Two

The roar of the retreating jets died in the storm before anyone spoke.

“Luke,” Rick began, “Andy and Lois and I have had about an hour and a half to digest this story we’re about to tell. You’ve had about five minutes. We’re going to catch you up, and then Charlie can fill in the rest. Is that okay?” He looked at everyone, indicating that it was a question for the group. Everyone nodded except Traveler, who wagged his tail.

Rick leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and considered his words carefully. Then he opened his eyes and leaned across the table toward me, “Just before dark, Andy and I were here in the kitchen talking and getting supper ready.” He nodded toward the food, long forgotten on the butcher block.

“Lois was out in the barn working on one of the tractors.” He paused, grinned and added, “That’s standard woman’s work, at least around here.” I noted Lois’s shy smile out of the corner of my eye and figured she heard those kinds of remarks often from her brothers, and probably everyone else who knew her.

“It was almost dark when the storm hit. We couldn’t hear anything except rain, wind and thunder. If Lois hadn’t been coming from the equipment shed at just the right time, none of us would have known what happened.”

Lois laughed, and picked up the story, “It about scared me to death. I was running from the barn to the house when I saw this strange airplane come flying over. It couldn’t have been more than fifty feet off the ground. It was wobbling, and looked like it was about to fall out of the sky. It wasn’t making a sound.” Charlie smiled ruefully.

“I stood there in the rain and watched it until it went out of sight near the hay field on the other side of the patch of corn, behind the barn. A second or so later I heard a thud, and I knew it had crashed. I waited for another few seconds to see if there was going to be an explosion, then I ran for the house.”

Andy picked up the story, “I’ll never forget the look on her face if I live to be a hundred and ten. She almost took the door off the hinges, and her face was all eyes.”

Rick jumped in, “If Lois were a practical joker, we would have never listened to her. In fact, it was a minute before she calmed down enough for us to understand a word she was saying, and when we did understand, we weren’t sure we were hearing it right. She shouted, ‘A plane just crashed in the hayfield.’”

Rick paused for emphasis and said, “It took us a while to respond even though we knew she had seen something, and she wasn’t going to shut up until she showed it to us, storm or no storm.”

Andy began to speak. It was obvious the Parkers were so close it didn’t matter who told the story. “We jumped in the truck, and I guess we were at the hay field in less than five minutes from the time that Lois first saw the aircraft. At first, we didn’t see anything. She drove about fifty yards or so into the field, and then we came to the place where the plane first touched down. It was easy to see, since a fifty-foot wide by a hundred foot long strip of hay was down. We drove another fifty yards and there it was. The weirdest airplane I’ve ever seen was parked right in the middle of our hayfield just as pretty as you please.”

For about thirty seconds nobody said anything. Then Rick said, “At first we didn’t see any sign of life. No smoke, fire, or steam…nothing. Then Charlie, here, came around the aircraft from the far side. He looked like someone whose pickup truck just stopped running on the interstate, and he was walking around to see if he could figure out what was wrong with it.”

Charlie laughed.

Traveler looked at him and wagged his tail.

Charlie looked directly at me. I sensed Andy, Rick, Lois, and Traveler turn toward him. I knew there would be no more changes in the storyteller.

Charlie’s words were soft, but commanding. “Luke, I know you have a thousand questions, and I’m going to tell you what I told the Parkers. We don’t have time for me to answer all of them. At least not until the ship is secure, by that I mean, ready to fly again. You just heard the jets. The government is looking for me. If I am taken, it will be a catastrophe for all of us,” he paused, “And I do mean all of us…all of the people on the planet today, and all that will ever live on the planet.”

He let that sink in, and then continued. “I’m not an alien from some far corner of the universe. I’m just as human as you are. I live on earth, just like you. In fact, my home isn’t far from here, in miles that is. However, I don’t live in this time…your time. I live fifty-years in the future.”

I guess my face revealed my disbelief. Charlie stopped his explanation and said, “I understand your skepticism, Luke. Let me briefly try to explain how it’s possible for me to move though time the way you and Traveler move across land.”

He paused, and it was obvious he was considering how he could explain time travel to a truck driver and a bunch of farmers. A few seconds passed and his eyes lit up. He said, “See if this makes sense. In his theory of relativity, Einstein said that nothing could travel faster than the speed of light. He said many other things that were revolutionary, which means they needed confirmation: most were proven; a few were not verifiable. However, in his lifetime, and until your time, everyone agreed that he was right, that nothing could exceed the speed of light.”

Charlie paused and looked at each of us to make sure he had our undivided attention. He even looked down at Traveler, who was staring intently at him, just like the four of us at the table. “Einstein was wrong about the speed of light. There is something that travels infinitely faster than light, and Einstein knew what it was; however, he gave it no credibility. Thought travels faster than light. Einstein gave thought no credibility because it is impossible to weigh, measure, or observe thought. Nevertheless, thoughts are real. Collectively and individually, we use them to create our lives and our world. Everything that man has created, he created with thought. You know, everyone knows, that in an instant your thoughts can take you anywhere you send them. Your thoughts have no limits other than the limits you place on them.”

Again, Charlie paused, letting his words register before continuing. “When Einstein framed the theory of relativity, the computer was in its infancy. Today, in your time, millions, probably billions of people own and routinely use computers. Advances in computer technology haven’t slowed; in fact, the rate of advancement of computer technology has increased. Scientists in my time have created a link whereby we can effectively connect computers to the human brain. The basic technique is amazingly simple. In fact, the children of my time are building interfaces at home. We have scientists, computer engineers, and computer programmers working together to advance the basic design even further. The progress they have made rivals any scientific progress since the beginning of recorded history.”

“You’re probably wondering what thoughts have to do with time travel. Trust me, the two are inseparable. To understand, I want you to think of time in a different way than you’ve ever thought of it before. Time is not a measure of anything. Time is a simple reference to location. All-time exists, from the beginning of the universe to the end of it. Astronomers looking through their telescopes are in fact looking through light-years, or to put it another way, looking through time. Remember your science teachers telling you that many of the stars you saw at night were no longer there, because they had burned-out, collapsed on themselves, and ceased to be a star?”

Charlie paused, and we nodded our heads as we recalled hearing that at various times. “That’s not an accurate statement. The way they should have explained it is, when we look at a star, we are looking through time to a place where the star existed as we are seeing it. Or think of this, the sun, our sun, obviously exists as a bright, vibrant star, in our time. However, it is also a burned-out collapsed star; a black hole, in another time, or to be more accurate in another place. When you realize that time is a place, not a linear system of measurement, your perception shifts, and you will see how I can be here with you even though I’m from a place fifty years in the future. Time is a statement of location in ‘All-time.’ Here’s another way to think of it. Luke, if we get in your truck and I say let’s go to California, you know where that is.”

I laughed and said, “You’d better believe it.”

Then he said something that made the idea of time travel clear to me. “If we get in my aircraft and you say let’s go to 1967, I know where that is just like you know where California is. You see, ten minutes ago, ten years ago, ten million years ago haven’t stopped existing because we are not currently in them, any more than California has stopped existing because we are in Tennessee. To get to California you need a vehicle that will take you there. To get to ten minutes ago, or ten years ago, or ten million years ago, all you need is a vehicle to take you there.”

He paused, looked at me, and I guess my eyes told him that I understood, because he continued, “All we have done is couple the ancient astronomer’s knowledge of what time is, with our newly discovered technology for linking human thought to computers, and created a method whereby we can travel in time.

He paused as if he were unsure about his next words. Then he said, “The technology is new for us. I’m what you would call a test pilot. This is only our second try at traveling in time. I flew the first mission also. In your time that first mission occurred thirty years ago. In my time it was only ten days ago. The difference is, from a specific point in time, say fifty years from now, it’s possible to travel to any point in time just the way you travel over land from here to some point ten miles away or three thousand miles away. The time difference between my first trip, and this, my second trip, is of no consideration. I’ve simply made two trips to different locations. I was in 1969 for a few hours, and then I returned to my time. Two weeks later I traveled to 2000, and, hopefully, I’ll only spend a few hours here, then I’ll return to my 2050.”

We laughed and I said, “Okay, I’ve got it.”

Everyone laughed again and Rick asked, “You mean this is only the second time you have ever tried the brain computer link?”

Charlie replied quickly, “No, we’ve been working with the brain computer link for many years. First, we used the technique to travel only on Earth. Quickly we advanced the technology to the point that we could travel throughout the solar system, and now even beyond our solar system, but always in our time dimension. However, as I just mentioned, this is only our second try at traveling through time.”

“What happened the first time, Charlie?” Lois asked.

Charlie grinned, “At the risk of sounding incompetent, I crashed, just the way I crashed this evening. Well, not exactly like I crashed this evening. Today I was in your time much longer before I went down.”

Lois said, “I have two questions for you, Charlie. On the other hand, maybe it’s only one, I’m not sure. First, why do you need to travel in time? And second, why did you wait so long to try it?”

Charlie weighed his words carefully, “We have known since we perfected the mind-computer link, that we could travel in time, and it was tempting to make that our first priority because we wanted to know how some of our major problems, pollution for example, were created. We knew that knowledge would make it easier to correct some of the issues we are dealing with. However, we believed that we would have to be extremely careful not to change anything in your time that might adversely affect you, or the generations that follow you. The more our scientists study the subject, the more certain they are that it is not an issue. Indications now are that to alter something here will have no more effect on another time than, say, picking a flower in California will significantly affect anything in Tennessee. However, be that as it may, the only purpose of this mission was to check the technology that we use to move through time. The last thing we wanted was to make contact with any of you.”

Lois said, “But Charlie, how do you know that your time isn’t the way it is because you’ve traveled to other places in time and unintentionally changed something?”

Charlie laughed. “Lois, you are a quick study. The truth is, we don’t know, and there is no way for us to know. What’s happening here tonight could have repercussions throughout eternity. For example, Lois, if you and Luke fall in love, marry, and have kids who have kids, it will change the course of everything. And it will happen because I traveled through time and created the event that caused you to meet.”

There was silence around the table. I couldn’t believe it when I heard myself say, “I’d be willing to take that chance.”

I was blushing before the words finished ringing through the dining room. Then the room exploded in laughter. I was afraid to look at Lois, so I didn’t.

When some composure finally returned to the room, I looked at Lois and noted that she wasn’t blushing. In fact, her eyes looked into mine as if to find out whether my statement had been mindless or indicative of something else.

Hoping to change the subject, I said, “Charlie, it looks like you still have some bugs to work out in your computer-mind link.”

He laughed, “It would appear that way at first glance, but in fact, it wasn’t the mind-computer link that failed. It was the engine. We use the mind-computer link only to move through time or deep space. Conventional travel is by our cyber propulsion engine. The cyber engine can move us at just under the speed of light. You are still twenty years from discovering that technology. However, you will discover it; you’ll have to because you are rapidly exhausting the earth’s available fossil fuel.”

“What do you use for fuel?” I asked.

Charlie grinned, “I’ve given you a lot of information in the past few minutes. What I’m about to tell you will move right to the top of your unbelievable list.” He paused, and then said, “Water is the only fuel the engine uses.”

Without thinking I said, “That’s it! Now I’ve heard it all.”

“It’s true, Luke. We use only water. And that’s why I crashed. I was running short of water. Though we haven’t discovered why, we know that we use a lot more fuel traveling through time than we do traveling in our dimension. I was running short of water, so I hovered over the Tennessee River and picked up two thousand gallons, more than enough to get me back to my place in time.”

“What happened?”

“Exactly what happened ten days ago, or thirty years ago in your time, polluted water. I finished the water pickup and climbed to 75,000 feet. I was getting ready to make the mind-computer link that would have taken me home, when the water I’d just picked up reached the engine, and it failed. I didn’t have time to analyze the situation or take any remedial action. I dropped over 40,000 feet before I was able to get any power at all, and then only in spurts, just enough to keep some directional control, but not nearly enough to set up the mind-computer link. I managed to land in the hay field without damaging anything, but now I have to have cleaner water than I found in the river.”

Lois looked at me. “Luke, that’s where you come in, we have the quality of water that Charlie needs in our artesian well, and you have the truck we need to get it from the well to Charlie’s aircraft.”

I post two episodes of Another Place Another Time every week

For info on receiving each episode directly on your Kindle click here
Or, if you don’t want to wait, click here to purchase the complete Kindle version of the book.

Currently I’m working on The Mystic Trilogy – the first volume – The Sages – it is posted weekly – click here to read the first and all subsequent episodes.

Another Place Episode 31

Another Place Another Time

Book Two

Ben Cavanaugh

Episode Thirty-One

NASA has two Air Force jet fighters assigned to its command. The semi-official reason for their assignment is to investigate UFO sightings in the Nashville Flight Service Station Area of operation, and the FAA has officially given them that responsibility. However, that explanation isn’t the entire reason the two fighters are on twenty-four hour alert at NASA headquarters in Huntsville, Alabama.

It is a matter of public record the number of UFO sightings around particular military facilities, like White Sands Proving Grounds, Egland Air Force Base, and several top secret facilities in Nevada, is unduly high. NASA is a top secret facility, and that is the real reason the two fighters are under their command.

Richard Temple called NASA’s flight operation center and reported the UFO within two minutes of hearing the Delta captain’s description of the aircraft.

Despite the storm that was battering Huntsville, Alabama, within minutes of the first sighting of the aircraft, two delta wing fighters, call signs Kingfisher One and Kingfisher Two, were charging side-by-side down the runway at Redstone Arsenal, the Army Base that housed NASA. They lifted off the concrete and swept upward at a near impossible angle of attack. At ten thousand feet, they rocked through the last of the storm clouds and into the clear, moonlit north Alabama night.

At 10,000 feet Kingfisher One radioed NASA, “NASA control, this is Kingfisher One. Wheels up at 1641, Zulu. Heading zero two niner five. Switching to Nashville Air, frequency 111.8.”

“Kingfisher One NASA Control. Contact Nashville Air for vectors to the last reported location of the aircraft. Report your progress on NASA secure frequency only. That will also be your control frequency, Kingfisher.”

The veteran fighter pilot, washed in the red glow of the instrument lighting, twisted one radio frequency selector to Nashville Air Traffic Control and another to NASA’s classified and encrypted secure frequency; a frequency that changed daily.

Kingfisher One, keyed his mike and said, “Nashville Air, Kingfisher One, request vectors to the last known position of the unidentified aircraft.”

Geeson responded, “Kingfisher One, Nashville Air, squawk 1156.”

There was a pause as the pilot pushed a button, which identified his aircraft on the radar screen of the air traffic controller in Nashville.

Geeson confirmed the location of the two NASA fighters, keyed his radio transmit button, and said, “Thank you, Sir. We have you at ten thousand feet, heading two niner five. Turn to heading two eight zero.”

The fighters roared through the night for five minutes at a ground speed over five hundred miles an hour.

“Kingfisher One, Nashville Air, you are thirty seconds from the area of last sighting. The unidentified aircraft, on your present heading, dropped under our radar coverage, and we assume that it either crashed or continued flying at an altitude under five hundred feet, though that is unlikely in this weather.”

Kingfisher One and Two slowed to three hundred knots and lowered gingerly into the heavy cloud cover. In seconds, they were being buffeted by the storm, their cockpits alternating between total darkness and blinding white light as an intense lightning display lit up the night.

********

Kingfisher One switched his transmit selector switch to the NASA secure frequency and keyed his mike, “NASA Control, Kingfisher One. We are on the last recorded course of the aircraft. We are at 2,000 feet, more or less…it is impossible to maintain altitude in this storm. Visibility is zero. If the aircraft were directly below us, we’d never see it.”

“Kingfisher One, NASA. Climb back to ten thousand feet and hold over your present position. We have just found four Army Reserve Helicopters who are on maneuvers in Tennessee. We will advise you of their ETA as soon as we have it.”

“Kingfisher One, understood.”

Ninety miles from the point that Nashville Air had last tracked the unidentified aircraft, the two fighters made a climbing turn over a rambling two-story farmhouse that wasn’t visible to the pilots. The startled group, gathered around the dining room table in the farmhouse, looked toward the ceiling as a single person.

Charlie knew the planes were searching for him, and he explained that to Luke and the Parkers. He noted that it would be almost impossible for them to find him any time soon because of the weather and because he had managed to fly some distance on a new heading once he was below radar coverage. Then he added, “However, they won’t give up. As soon as the weather clears, they’ll put helicopters on my trail, and eventually they’ll find me unless I get out of here.”

I post two episodes of Another Place Another Time every week

For info on receiving each episode directly on your Kindle click here
Or, if you don’t want to wait, click here to purchase the complete Kindle version of the book.

Currently I’m working on The Mystic Trilogy – the first volume – The Sages – it is posted weekly – click here to read the first and all subsequent episodes.

Another Place Episode 30

Another Place Another Time

Book Two

Luke and Traveler

Episode Thirty

We left Toledo late Saturday afternoon, heading for an auto assembly plant in Tennessee with a load of automobile manifolds. Since we couldn’t unload until Monday morning, there was plenty of time to leave the interstates and head south on the old highways. I looked forward to seeing the country for a change.

We pulled into a Kentucky truck stop at eight, Sunday morning, ate breakfast, and slept until the middle of the afternoon. Then we went for a long run. While I showered and shaved in the truck stop, Traveler went back to sleep in the truck. It was midafternoon when I put the rig back on the road.

Traveler was still sound asleep in the sleeper box. I was listening to the latest Bob Seger CD. Traveler prefers Pavarotti, but when he’s asleep, I play Seger.

About an hour before total dark, we hit the storm. The lightning, rain, and wind were straight out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. I began to regret my decision to leave the interstates, but there was nothing I could do at that moment except go on.

I hadn’t seen another vehicle in almost half an hour, when I pulled up at a four-way stop, fifty miles south of the Tennessee-Kentucky border. I reached for the map thinking I would look for the shortest route back to Interstate 65. Before I could unfold it, lightning split a tall pine tree about a hundred feet beyond the intersection, just off the left shoulder of the highway.

The glare of the strike blinded me temporarily. I shook my head to clear my vision, and I heard Traveler growl, low, and deep in his throat. I automatically said, “Easy, Traveler, it was just lightning.” He hushed but I could feel his tension. I began to turn in the seat to look at him. I had only swung halfway around, when I stopped. My eyes locked on the passenger door. It was opening.

In all of my years and miles of truck driving, I had never had this happen. I instantly thought, ‘Pull Off! Pull off, now!’ I almost engaged the clutch, stopped, thinking that if I began moving, whoever was opening the door would slip and fall under the drive wheels of the tractor.

For the two seconds that it took for it to open all the way, I just gazed at the door. A black, soggy, ten-gallon hat, mounted over a long brown raincoat climbed into the cab, as if it had done it a thousand times before. As I stared, the hat lifted and I saw a lean brown face built around a prominent nose, pale, intense, blue eyes and full lips under a black mustache that curled down at the ends.

My God, I thought, it's Jesse James! The hat dripped, the storm raged, lightning hit nearby again, not as close as the last strike, and ‘Jessie’ looked at me, smiled, and said, “Howdy.”

I heard Traveler whine and then begin to wag his tail so violently it beat against the side of the sleeper box.

Great, I thought, a guy breaks into my truck and my dog falls in love with him.

I smiled a little weakly and said, “Howdy.”

He grinned at me again, as if it were normal to open the door of someone’s truck at a stop sign, in the middle of a storm, and crawl in like you belonged.

“Bad night to be out ain’t it?” He asked.

That broke the spell. I said, “Look, Mister, I don’t know who you are…or even who you think you are, but you can’t just climb into my truck and start talking about the weather. You better tell me what you want, and you better be quick about it.”

His grin got even bigger. He held out his hand. I let it hang there. He made no attempt to pull it back. “My name’s Rick Parker. My brother, sister and I own a farm about half-mile down the road.”

“My name’s Luke Jenson.” I nodded my head towards the sleeper box, “That’s my partner, Traveler.”

He said, “Hello, Traveler,” which prompted more tail wagging. Deciding that he wasn’t a threat, I shook his hand. Water sprayed over the console. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t realize I was that wet,” he exclaimed.

“That’s all right. Do you need a ride home? Did you run out of gas or have a flat tire?”

He shook his head, spraying me and Traveler in the process, “No, it’s nothing like that. In fact, it’s nothing like you’ve ever heard before or can even imagine. We need you and your truck to do a job. It shouldn’t take more than few hours, and we’ll pay you.”

I was instantly back on the defensive. “Look, Rick. This isn’t the way to go about hiring a rig. I already have a load on, and you need to know that it isn’t worth high-jacking, unless you just have a market for automobile manifolds.”

This time he held up both hands to stop me, “Look, Luke, I don’t blame you for being suspicious. I would be if I were you. But, I’m going to ask you to trust me for a few minutes. What I have to tell you will be unbelievable, but it’s all true. We can’t talk about it here, in the middle of the highway. Turn right and let’s go to the house. We can talk on the way, and then I’m going to show you something that you’ve never seen before.”

I thought about what he said. Rick was right, I knew I wouldn’t believe his story, and I hadn’t even heard it yet, but I figured the best plan would be to go along with him, at least until I knew what I was up against. I engaged the clutch and turned right onto a narrow farm to market road.

I made a mental note never to begin another trip until I locked and checked both doors. I got the truck up to eighth gear and forty-five miles an hour, before I looked over at my uninvited guest. “Okay, Rick, it’s time to explain.”

Instead of explaining, he leaned towards the windshield, peered through the rain, and said, “Luke, the turn is just ahead on the right. Slow down or you’re going to miss it. It’s a wide gravel drive. There’s plenty of room coming off the highway, but it narrows quick before it goes through a cattle gap. THERE! Do you see it?”

I geared down and made the turn onto a well-kept gravel drive, lined on both sides with a gleaming white wooden fence. We passed through the cattle gap and drove about two hundred yards through heavy woods. We came out of the woods and passed through what I guessed was a hay field, probably twenty-five acres or more, though it was impossible to tell for sure in the storm and the early evening gloom. On the far edge of the field, through a stand of trees, on top of a slight rise, I saw flashes of light and guessed it was the farmhouse. When we topped the low hill, Rick said, “Go to the right at the fork and head for the barn.”

The place was impressive. A large red barn dominated the right side of the hill. Just like old, McDonald’s place, I thought. Beside the barn was a long, low, metal building. It had six bays. Equipment maintenance and storage, I guessed.

There was more than enough room to turn my rig around in front of the barn. Rick pointed toward the left side of the barn. When you make the swing you’ll see a concrete pad. Back your trailer over it and we can dolly down on the pad. That’s what it's there for.”

The headlights picked out the pad as I swung through the turn. I backed up and stopped with the dollies centered over the pad. I shut down and turned to Rick, “Look, before I unhook, I’m going to have to know what’s going on here.”

“That’s fair. Come on up to the house and meet my family and…and a new friend. We’ll tell you what’s going on.”

I pointed to the sleeper, “What about Traveler?”

“Bring him. As long as he minds his manners and doesn’t bite anyone, he’s more than welcome.” Traveler barked.

I climbed out of the cab with Traveler hard on my heels. Rick came down the passenger side, and we started walking up the well-used path toward a white, rambling, well-maintained, two-story farmhouse.

The rain had stopped for the moment. A fine mist was blowing gently in a light breeze. It caught the light from the house and surrounded it in gold dust.

********

We walked up two steps onto a small open back porch. Rick took off his raincoat and hat, and hung them on a hook next to other hooks which already held raincoats and hats. Neat folks, I thought as Rick opened the door.

We entered a warm, homey kitchen, lined with cabinets. At the center of the large, well-used room was a massive butcher block work table. I noticed that the half-chopped ingredients, for what appeared to be a stew, were still on the block. Beyond the work table, was a huge oak dining table with an old fashioned cut-glass chandelier suspended over its center.

Two men, and the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, sat at the table. The man on the right and the damp, beauty queen, were clearly Rick’s brother and sister. The man at the head of the table, facing us, wasn’t part of the family.

He was average height with a slender build, wearing some sort of one-piece, gray overall outfit. Above the left breast pocket of the overalls were the initials, ASA and a logo that seemed vaguely familiar.

He had blond hair and a fair complexion. His blue eyes were clear and intense. He had been talking to Andy and Lois, but the conversation stopped when we came into the kitchen. Obviously, they were waiting for us to join them.

Rick touched my shoulder lightly and pointed to the table and two empty chairs that I assumed were for the two of us. Traveler whined and crossed the room in a couple of bounds, going directly to the man at the head of the table. Before I could open my mouth to stop him, he had both feet in the man’s lap and was licking his face like they were old friends.

Rick and I moved toward the table. I called to Traveler, “Sit!” He obeyed, reluctantly, sitting at the feet of the man who had been the object of his affection. The man took his gaze off Traveler, looked at me, and smiled.

Rick motioned to the man on the right. “Luke, this is my brother, Andy. Andy, this is Luke Jenson.”

Andy stood and shook my hand, “Good to meet you, Luke. Sorry it had to be like this.” I could tell Andy was older than Rick, but other than the slight age difference, they could have been identical twins.

Andy pointed to the woman sitting beside him and said, “This is our ‘little’ sister, Lois.”

Lois pushed her chair back and stood…and stood, and stood. She must be six feet tall, I thought. She reached across the table for my hand, which I had temporarily forgotten to raise. Dark hair hung in long wet curls framing her beautiful face. Her full lips, petite nose and eyes so blue and deep I would have fallen into them, had she not broken the spell with a laugh that won my heart in an instant. I almost didn’t hear her say, “I suppose to these two rednecks, I will always be a little girl.”

I took her hand awkwardly and shook it carefully to insure I didn’t break anything. I didn’t trust my voice to say anything, so I just nodded, which drew an even bigger smile from her. We turned toward the third person at the table. He stood slowly, as if he weren’t sure what to say or do.

He looked at me and grinned almost shyly. Rick said, “Luke, this is Charlie Evans. Charlie is the reason you’re here. I’ll let him tell you the story.”

Charlie took my hand in a surprisingly firm grip. I noticed that his hair was wet, but unlike the Parkers, his clothes were dry. I looked at the overalls closely. They had a metallic sheen, probably waterproof, I thought. Charlie seemed to read my mind, “Rick, Andy, and Lois could have used some of my overalls. You’re right, they are waterproof, and nearly indestructible also.”

I blurted out, “Where can I get a pair of those?”

Everyone laughed. Traveler barked. It seemed that everyone was in on a secret except me. I looked at Rick, “I think it’s time that somebody told me what’s going on.”

Rick smiled and motioned to a chair, “Have a seat, and we’ll tell you everything we know. Charlie can fill in the gaps.”

As Rick and I took our places at the table one, maybe two, jets flew low over the house. We looked toward the ceiling, and Traveler growled.

I post two episodes of Another Place Another Time every week

For info on receiving each episode directly on your Kindle click here
Or, if you don’t want to wait, click here to purchase the complete Kindle version of the book.

Currently I’m working on The Mystic Trilogy – the first volume – The Sages – it is posted weekly – click here to read the first and all subsequent episodes.

Another Place Episode 29

Another Place Another Time

Book Two

Luke and Traveler

Episode Twenty-Nine

Parkers have farmed their six hundred acres in central Tennessee for more than a hundred and fifty years. The farm has passed from generation to generation, beginning as a grant to Thaddeus Parker, signed by Andrew Jackson in 1834, down to the current crop of Parkers, Andy, Rick, and Lois.

The Parkers are a tall, lean, handsome clan. Even the women are strong and tall. Six-foot-tall women are not unusual in the Parker lineage, though they appear average beside their six-and-a-half-foot tall male relatives. Other common family traits include, black hair, blue eyes, and a gaze solidly anchored to the earth they love and tend.

Andy, Rick and Lois are clearly Parkers. Clad in period clothing, they could have had their picture taken and placed beside those of their ancestors, hanging above the mantle in the old farmhouse, and no one who saw the picture would have suspected that generations separated them.

Rick and Andy top the six-foot-five mark by a quarter of an inch. Their “little sister,” Lois, touches the mark at exactly six feet. If her height doesn’t get attention, her beauty never fails to, though she gives it no regard. She holds other personal qualities in much higher esteem, qualities such as integrity, courage, and strength; traits she has in common with her bothers and her ancestors.

“The Parker Kids” have owned and operated the farm for more than eight years. They took it over the day the commuter plane that was bringing their parents’ home from their first trip out of Tennessee, flew into a fog covered mountain just north of Knoxville. Neighbors said they would never be able to make it on their own. Distant relatives even tried legal action to gain control of the farm. However, the kids - ranging in age from twenty-one to seventeen with Andy being the oldest, Lois the “baby,” and Rick the middle child - weathered every storm. The farm became their lives, and they were totally committed to it.

These days the farm is more prosperous than ever and the Parkers’s could have eased off some, but that never crossed their minds. Their work is their life.

Lois once told a friend, who suggested that she begin dating some of the local boys, “I can’t do that. I believe in love at first sight.”

Her frustrated friend retorted, “Lois, it doesn’t matter if you believe in love at first sight or not; you never see anyone except your brothers and the County Agent. You have to see someone, to fall in love.”

The Parkers do all the work on the farm themselves, though they could easily afford to hire farmhands. The County Agent says the Parker Farm is the best he’s ever seen, and he continually tries to persuade them to enter contests, or become the subject of this or that study or magazine article. They steadfastly refused, saying it is a waste of their time.

********

The storm swept in from the west and engulfed the farm just a few minutes before nightfall. Andy and Rick were in the kitchen beginning supper. Lois was in the equipment shed servicing the newest tractor when the storm hit. She never enjoyed cooking and refused to do more than her share of the “house stuff,” just because she was a woman. Rick and Andy understood and never thought that it should be any other way. The Parker kids considered themselves equals, Andy’s age didn’t give him an advantage any more than Lois’ gender put her at a disadvantage.

Lois poured the last quart of oil into the John Deere and replaced the oil filler cap. She closed the hood and stepped back to admire the tractor, thinking how much her Daddy would have loved it. She was standing there, daydreaming a bit, when a flash of lightning lit the equipment shed like it was high noon. The boom of thunder almost deafened her, and it instantly ended her daydream.

She stopped at the door and tucked her hair under the hood of her sweatshirt, stalling for time before making the dash across the yard to the house. Finally, she took a deep breath, held it, and jumped out into the driving rain. She took two long strides toward the house and stopped like she had run into a wall. Thoughts of the storm were gone. Sailing over the yard, just under the low, fast moving storm, was a strange looking aircraft. It seemed as big as their house, and it was only a few feet above its roof. It was wobbling and appeared on the verge of falling from the sky. It was so low; its metallic skin reflected the light from the house and yard back on to the trees and grass as it passed over.

The airplane silently fought its battle to stay in the air. Around its outermost edges was a row of multicolored lights that were flickering, from washed out yellow to bright white. Clearly, it was in big trouble.

It flew over the yard and out of sight behind a tall oak tree beside the barn. As soon as it was out of sight, Lois sprang forward. As she did so, she finally remembered to breathe. She ran to a point just short of the back porch and stopped there in the driving rain, watching as the aircraft disappeared behind a row of trees on the far side of the cornfield. She felt, more than heard, a thud, and knew the plane had gone down in their hayfield.

She took the kitchen door almost off the hinges. Andy and Rick stared at her. There was a long moment before she could talk. Time shifted into slow motion. The loudest sound in the kitchen was the sound of rainwater dripping from Lois’ soaked sweatshirt.

Time returned to normal when she screamed, “Let’s Go! NOW! A plane just went down in the hayfield!”

She didn’t wait for their response. Instead, she turned and ran back into the storm, disappearing toward their pickup truck parked beside the house.

*********

Neither Rick nor Andy considered questioning their sister. They knew her too well for that. They sprang for the door in pursuit. Despite their quick reactions, Lois had already started the pickup and moved it to the porch steps when they got outside.

The windshield wipers beat hopelessly at the storm, as the pickup slewed out of the yard, with the three Parkers wedged in the cab, all staring wild-eyed into the wall of rain that separated them from the hayfield.

I post two episodes of Another Place Another Time every week

For info on receiving each episode directly on your Kindle click here
Or, if you don’t want to wait, click here to purchase the complete Kindle version of the book.

Currently I’m working on The Mystic Trilogy – the first volume – The Sages – it is posted weekly – click here to read the first and all subsequent episodes.

Another Place Episode 28

Another Place Another Time

Book Two

Ben Cavanaugh

Episode Twenty-Eight

Having been the commander of the Greyhounds for almost thirty years I know the personnel and the installations of all military and most civilian airports in the southeast. That includes NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration), headquartered in Huntsville, Alabama and the FAA Flight Service Stations in Nashville, Atlanta, Birmingham, and New Orleans.

******

Nashville Flight Service Station is one of fifty-eight flight service stations in the contiguous forty-eight states of the United States. The heart of the Nashville Flight Service Center is a large, dark, room, in a single story, concrete block building that crouches in an obscure corner just inside the perimeter fence of Nashville International Airport. The control center is a large, featureless room, lit mainly by the green glow of many radar screens. It houses the air traffic controllers who direct air traffic over the area known as Nashville Air.

A year ago, on a quiet Sunday evening, the room was as relaxed as it could ever be. The decrease in the normal stress level was in direct proportion to Sunday’s lower number of scheduled flights. On this particular Sunday afternoon, the traffic was even lighter than usual because severe thunderstorms blanketed the area, discouraging many general aviation flights. The controllers were handling only a few scheduled airliners, which were flying above the storm cells that blanketed the area. However, in the life of air traffic controllers, relaxation is tenuous at best, and in an instant, it disappeared for them all.

*********

Jim Geeson, a senior controller, suddenly shouted, “My God! What is that?” His training and years of experience quickly overrode his panic and confusion. He keyed his radio transmitter and calmly said:

“Delta 421, turn right to heading 065, you have an unidentified aircraft descending on top of you from…from…69,000 feet. TURN NOW CAPTAIN!”

The Delta Captain complied without hesitation, and then asked, “Nashville Air, did you say from 69,000 feet?”

“That is correct, Captain. We are trying to contact the aircraft. You are clear now. Maintain your present heading and report any visual contact with the aircraft.”

Alerted by Geeson’s first exclamation, Richard Temple, Shift Supervisor, moved to the empty position next to the controller, and was calling the unidentified aircraft on every published military and civilian frequency. There was no response.

Geeson watched as the unidentified aircraft moved rapidly through 50,000 then 40,000 feet. Though it was losing altitude at an alarming rate, both Geeson and Temple knew, from its subtle heading changes, that it was an aircraft and not a meteor or satellite falling out of orbit.

On his radar screen, Geeson saw the aircraft descend through 35,000 feet when Delta 421 radioed, “Nashville Air, Delta 421, the aircraft just passed off our nose at two o’clock. We still have it in sight. I’ve never seen a plane like it. The nearest I know of would be the space shuttle, except this one has no windscreen or windows, and it has hundreds, check that, thousands of lights that are flashing erratically like it’s experiencing a power failure.”

Geeson turned to Temple, “Richard, I think it’s time to call NASA. Either we have one of their birds, and it’s in trouble; or we have a UFO. In either case, they are the investigating agency.”

I post two episodes of Another Place Another Time every week

For info on receiving each episode directly on your Kindle click here
Or, if you don’t want to wait, click here to purchase the complete Kindle version of the book.

Currently I’m working on The Mystic Trilogy – the first volume – The Sages – it is posted weekly – click here to read the first and all subsequent episodes.

Another Place Episode 27

Another Place Another Time

Book Two

Luke and Traveler

Episode Twenty-Seven

A year later, James Wilkerson, my CPA, told me that my gross income was down almost twenty percent. Though my business was profitable, it wasn’t as profitable as it has been when Daddy and I were running together. Then he suggested that I get a new partner, or at least hire a co-driver. I ignored him. A month or so after that, he suggested it again. That time I explained to him that I had a partner, whose name was on the door of the truck, and I didn’t need another one. I also told him I did not want anyone else in my truck. As an afterthought, I suggested to him that maybe what I needed was a new CPA. He and I have been friends long enough for him to know that was the end of the conversation.

………

The day after that conversation, I picked up a load of produce just south of Chattanooga. I was late loading and concerned that I wouldn’t make my unloading time slot in Cleveland. When I started up Mount Eagle, the toughest pull east of the Mississippi River, I was working hard to stay in the moment, as well as working hard to preserve speed on the sharp incline. I was down to thirty miles an hour and struggling to hold that, when I saw him, a big, black dog, gaunt as a shadow, moving painfully up the mountain; instantly, I was totally present.

The dog, a German Shepherd by the look of him, was oblivious to the traffic that was whizzing past only a few feet away from him. He was staring straight ahead as he moved relentlessly upward. I shook my head as I passed him. I love animals, especially dogs. It tears me up to see one abused, or worse, abandoned. However, after years of driving, I had seen many of them, and I knew I couldn’t help them all. I surprised myself when I pulled the rig off on the shoulder, less than a third of the way to the top of Mount Eagle. There couldn’t be a worse place to stop a loaded tractor-trailer, and I was doing it to help a dog. I felt like two different people, one going against all logic, trying to help a dog that looked to be beyond help, and the other watching in astonishment.

The part of me watching disappeared as I locked the rig down in a swirl of dust, jumped from the cab, and ran back toward the place where I had last seen him. When I got to the end of the trailer, I saw him coming toward me. He was still fifty feet away. I stopped and stared. He was so exhausted, he was weaving slightly, and I was afraid that he might stagger over into the passing traffic. His eyes, unfocused, stared blindly ahead.

I stood in his path not knowing what to expect. He walked into my legs without seeing me. The impact staggered him. I caught him as he was falling over. I picked him up easily, amazed at how light he was. He couldn’t have weighed much more than forty pounds. I guessed that in a healthy state he would easily go over seventy, maybe even eighty pounds. He closed his eyes, as I carried him back to the tractor, and I felt him go limp. His head swung loose over my arm, and I thought he was dead.

I laid him gently on the passenger seat. When I looked at the wasted body, I saw the ribs lift once, then again, as he breathed fitfully. I thought, Boy, as long as you want to live, I’m going to see that you have the opportunity.

I cranked the truck and managed to make the top of the mountain. At the Rocky Top Truck Stop on the summit of Mount Eagle, I stopped. Standing in a phone-booth, I leafed through the small telephone directory until I found what I was looking for; a veterinarian, specifically, Rocky Top Animal Hospital. I dialed the emergency after hours number.

A woman answered on the second ring. Halfway through my story she said, “Just a minute, sir.” I heard the sound of her covering the receiver and despite that I her shout… FRANK! It's for you.”

Thirty seconds later a deep voice said, “What can I do for you?”

I told the voice, which I assumed was Frank’s, who I was and why I was calling.

“Happens all the time around here,” he said. “I’ll never understand how people can put their dogs out and just leave them, but they do. Look, meet me at the clinic, and I’ll take a look at him.” He told me how to find his office and abruptly hung up.

Thirty minutes later, after silently examining the dog, Frank shook his head and said, “Luke, I don’t know what’s keeping this one alive. It looks like it has been a month since he has eaten. I’m going to be honest with you; the odds of him making it aren’t good, and even if he does, I’m not sure he’ll ever recover emotionally. He could be a healthy basket case, if you know what I mean.”

“Doc, I had a dog like that once,” I said. “He eventually became normal, or at least almost normal. I’m willing to see that this one has a chance. You do what it takes to bring him back physically, and if that works out, I’ll see what I can do about the other.”

Frank looked at me and smiled, “It's your money. If that’s how you want to spend it, it's fine with me.”

I looked at the wasted body lying on the stainless steel examining table. Every shallow breath was a major effort, and, after every one, I held my breath until I was sure there would be another one.

Finally, I said, “I’m sure. Don’t spare anything. I’ll be back through a week from today. Here’s two hundred dollars. Will that cover your charges until then?” Too choked up to say anything else, I dropped my head and examined my boots.

Frank pretended not to notice my discomfort as he stuffed the two one hundred dollar bills into his jeans, and said, “This will be more than enough.” Then he added, “Luke, I’ll do my best…but don’t get your hopes up.”

I thought about that dog nonstop for the next three days. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, even when I tried. Finally, late on the afternoon of the third day after I’d left him with Frank, I pulled into a rest area near Lansing, Michigan and ran for the bank of public telephones like a lovesick teenager. It took a few minutes for his assistant to find Frank. I shifted from one foot to another as I waited. I was afraid to know, but more afraid not to know. Finally, I heard, “Hello, Luke. Where are you?”

In what probably sounded like one word, I blurted out, “Hi, Doc. I’m in Michigan. How’s my dog? How’s he doing, Doc?”

The answer came quickly. “You can stop worrying, Luke. I’ve never seen anything like that dog’s recovery and I’ve been in this business for over thirty years. I stayed with him for about an hour after you left. I gave him liquids and glucose intravenously, and then I left him about like you last saw him, unconscious and attached to an IV.” He paused then said softly, “I expected to find him dead when I came in the next morning. Instead, as I opened the front door, I heard all hell breaking loose in the back. That dog of yours had pulled the IV out of his leg and was standing on the table barking as if it was the end of the world. Now he’s eating me out of house and home. You are going to need a lot of money to bail this guy out.” He laughed and hung up.

I don’t think my feet touched the ground as I walked back to the truck. I even laughed out loud a couple of times. That stopped some tourists in their tracks. They probably still tell stories about the drunken trucker they saw at a rest area in Michigan.

Even though he was totally out of it when I picked him up, I swear that dog recognized my voice as soon as I walked into the clinic and asked about him. I heard a sharp bark from the back of the clinic, and somehow I knew it was my dog. One of the aides brought him to the counter. It was difficult to tell who was walking whom, as the big dog strained against the leash. He came directly to me, and, before I could stop him, he rose on his hind legs, laid both front paws on my shoulders, looked in my eyes, and licked my mouth.

I laughed and wiped my sleeve across my face, pushing him down at the same time. I looked at him. It was hard to believe it was the same dog I’d brought in a little over a week before. He still had a lot of weight to regain, but he was well on the way. I guessed he was over well over fifty pounds, and I saw he was a lot bigger than I had originally thought. I’m a little over six feet two inches tall. Standing on his hind legs, he had looked right in my eyes.

“Now what am I going to do with a big hardheaded dog like you?” I asked him.

He looked at me and barked loud enough to rouse some of the other “patients” in the back. He started to repeat his face-licking move. I looked at him and said, “SIT!” and he immediately sat down.

Just then, Frank came out of one of the examining rooms. He looked at the dog and grinned, and then we shook hands. “We just discovered that he’s well trained. In fact, he is about the best trained dog I’ve ever seen.” The big dog stared at him while he talked. It seemed that he knew Frank was talking about him.

“You sure did a great job with him, Frank. If you’ll get my bill ready, I’ll get him out of your hair.”

Frank reached in his jeans pocket, pulled out two crumpled one hundred dollar bills and handed them to me. “There isn’t any charge, Luke. It’s been fun watching him get well. All I have invested is some time, a little medicine, and a ton of food. It was worth that and a whole lot more to me.”

I tried to refuse the money, but Frank had obviously made up his mind, and there was nothing I could do to change it. As the dog and I walked out of the door, Frank said, “There is one favor I would appreciate.”

“Name it and it’s yours,” I said.

Frank hesitated, and then asked, “Do you get through Rocky Top often?”

“Usually once a month, sometimes more,” I said. “Occasionally I haul six or seven weeks straight on the west coast, that’s the longest I’m ever away from home.”

Frank grinned like a ten-year-old, “Great, then you can bring him back for visits now and then.”

I laughed, “Frank, you’re a vet. You see a hundred dogs every day.”

“That’s right and I love them all, but this dog is one of a kind, and I would like to see him occasionally, just to remind me how special he is.”

“I’ll do better than that, Frank. How about being his vet? Whatever he needs, you take care of it?”

Before Frank could answer, the dog barked his approval.

We both laughed and Frank said, “Well, I guess that settles it.”

********

Daddy always said that I was a “riding fool,” usually adding, “Luke, you’d rather ride than eat.” He should have met the dog. I have never known a man, woman, child or animal who liked to ride any more than that dog. I guess I knew when I walked into Frank’s office, the dog was going to be my new partner; it just took a while for me to admit it. First, I had to put myself through all the arguments against having a big dog in a truck twenty-four hours a day. ‘He’ll jump out. He’ll bite somebody. He’ll tear up the truck. He may turn on you someday. If he isn’t housebroken, you will have big problem.’

I ran all of that and more through my mind for a few days. The dog quickly disproved every reason I came up with not to keep him. He obeyed every command instantly. He loved people. He had as much respect for the truck as I did, and he was every bit as housebroken as I am.

I realized early on the dog did something far more valuable than keep me company. He reminded me of the Old Man’s lessons about being in the moment, paying attention, getting in touch with my knowing, trusting it, and following it without hesitation. The dog was all of those lessons rolled up in a single 85-pound package, his full healthy weight. He was never out of the moment. Attention was what he was about. Even when I thought he was asleep, he was paying attention. He had a direct connection to knowing, and he trusted it, followed it, and never hesitated. The dog was both a teacher and an example.

I held off naming him until I knew he was going to make it as a trucker. After a week or so, he had put all of my doubts to rest, and we began the name search. We discussed it for hours. I would throw out a name and he would veto it with a bark or growl or simply by just ignoring me.

“Blackie.”

“Growl.”

“Prince.”

“Growl.”

“Big Boy.”

“Vicious bark.”

“Tiny.”

He rolled his eyes, sighed and went to sleep.

One afternoon, we were southbound out of Denver. He had his head out the passenger window, squinting into the sixty-mile-per-hour wind. I looked at him and it came to me, Traveler! I ran the name around in my mind for a minute and then I recalled that Traveler was Robert E. Lee’s horse. The General’s Traveler was a magnificent, legendary animal. Men who served with him swore that they could recognize the General at great distances because of Traveler. Unlike other horses, the big, gray gelding never turned his head from the direction in which he was traveling, no matter what was happening around him, be it noise, confusion, gunfire, or cannon roar. Traveler always looked and moved straight ahead, just like the dog the afternoon I found him going up Mount Eagle.

I turned toward the dog, and in a voice I knew he would barely hear above the wind I said, “Traveler…”

The response was instantaneous. He pulled his head back into the cab and turned toward me. I swear it looked like he was grinning, almost as if to say, “Well, it’s about time.”

He barked, wagged his tail, and licked my arm.

“Okay, Traveler it is.”

*********

I talk to Traveler about everything, and he understands every word. When I talk, he looks at me. Sometimes he cocks his head to one side. Sometimes he wags his tail. Sometimes he growls. No matter what he does, it’s always right for the conversation. Next to Daddy, Traveler is the best partner I could imagine.

**********

We covered many miles in our first months together. We worked and we played. We had ordinary runs and few not so ordinary ones. Then there was the run that was the ride of a lifetime, the one that changed everything.

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