The warmth of the fire warmed the old man's skeletal hands. He rubbed them together to generate even more warmth. Jake half expected them to click and clatter as the bones they so closely resembled might. Instead he heard a cough from the hooded figure, who spat into the fire.
"I thank ye, lad for the warmth of yer fire. 'Tis what these old bones need." A cackle followed the stranger's words emphasizing his apparent advanced age.
"Would you like some coffee? I have plenty," Jake offered the hooded stranger.
"Aye, that I would indeed," he replied as he reached for the pot and extra cup sitting on the flat rock beside the flickering fire.
"I haven't seen many in these parts for quite a long time." The fact of the matter was Jake hadn't seen anyone for a very long time. He craved companionship even from an old skeleton of a man such as this.
The old man pushed his hood back to reveal a face ringed in white. A receding white hairline around an age splotched head. A white scraggly beard completed the white circle.
Jake saw a face lined with the experience of age. Weathered and wrinkled like the mummy he seemed. His hands, though thin to the point of emaciation, were steady with no sign of palsy or the trembling of old age. His thin gash of a mouth puckered as he blew on the steaming coffee to cool it to drinking temperature.
They sat in silence while the mummy of a man warmed his insides with the strong black coffee.
"Where are you from?" Jake broke the ice of silence that had started to form.
"When," was all he said in his paper thin voice.
"Excuse me? When what?" The boy asked.
"When I am from is the correct question," the white haired man answered.
He had lost his peculiar accent and his voice no longer reminiscent of crumpled paper.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," the boy stated.
"Not to worry young man. I don't really understand it all myself." The old man seemed to straighten as he continued. "I had to determine if you were what you seemed to be."
Jake was beginning to wish he had not welcomed this old man to his fire. Who was he? What did he mean by his statement of when he was from? He reached for the coffee pot and the old man quickly grabbed his arm in a grip that belied his age. It hurt! Jake tried to yank it back, but the old man's surprising grip could not be broken. Terror filled his mind as he thrashed in his attempts to free himself.
Finally the panic subsided and the old man loosened his terrible grip a little. Jake looked up and met the eyes of the once hooded stranger. He was transfixed by the eyes of the white-haired stranger.
After a moment of staring into those opalescent green orbs he managed to squeak. "That hurts, mister. Please let me go."
The stranger said nothing. He flipped Jake's arm over and glanced at the wrist. He slowly loosened his grip until Jake could jerk it back.
"What did you do that for, mister?" Jake whimpered as he rubbed his wrist.
"I had to be sure you weren't Connected," was all the man said.
"Connected? Connected to what?" Jake muttered still rubbing his sore wrist. He looked at the old man who was staring intently at Jake's face. The old man's eyes widened in recognition that was quickly suppressed.
"All members of Torleeg's group show signs of the Connection." The old man pulled his hood back onto his head and again warmed his skeletal hands in the fire. "Forget you met me, boy!"
"Why?" Was all Jake could ask. Fears of loneliness were creeping back. He didn't know why, but he had to know more.
"It wouldn't be healthy to be seen with me here in this time. Thanks for the coffee and the fire." And with that he stood and turned to the night. He was soon enveloped in that cold blanket of darkness that ringed the small camp and its circle of warm firelight.
"Mister, Mister!" Jake shouted into the lonely dark. "I don't even know your name. Please come back!" Only silence echoed back.
A soft snow started to fall as Jake buried his hands in his arms and sobbed out his loneliness. Big wet flakes caught in his blond hair and on his trembling arms. They soon melted in the warmth from the small fire. The blonde haired boy raised his head. Snowflakes fell, melted, and joined with the tears slipping down his young face. He was alone again.
***
A silent blanket of snow had covered meadow and camp. Jake woke when a dollop of cold and wet hit him on the side of his face. The warm fire from the night before was as cold as the heart in his chest. He got up and stamped his feet to get the blood flowing. The remains of his nocturnal meeting with the stranger were still there, now covered in white. So it wasn't a dream he told himself.
Last night's events still rang in his mind. Who was that old man? Old, yes, but not feeble. His right wrist showed a purple testament to the stranger's strength. What did he mean by when he was from? Who was Torleeg and what was the Connection? One thing finally became clear, though: He had to find out!
Once his mind was made up, his mission became clear. He quickly gathered up his gear and lashed them to his back pack. He didn't know where he was going, he only knew that he had to go and find the old man. He had to know who and what he was. Besides, this stranger's rough company had awakened a need Jake thought was long buried. That need was one he had lived with since was as long as he could remember.
He trudged through the wet snow weaving back and forth through the plain looking for signs of recent passage. The snowfall, though short, had covered everything. His thoughts were still tossing the previous night's meeting around when he saw it. A campsite. No sign of a fire. The stranger had slept a cold night and then trekked on at daybreak. His tracks led to the West. He was headed toward the mountains. Was he crazy? Winter had not started yet, but last night's white warning was just a mild preview of what was in store. Jake stopped to rest and consider his alternatives.
He told himself that he should just turn around and head back north toward Pritchett, Colorado. No, he had had his fill of civilization! No one there cared about a homeless orphan with no memory. Oh some said they cared, but all they really wanted was his strong back. No, he wouldn't go back there. It was just another in an endless streams of hick towns he had tried to settle in. They were all the same. West was his only alternative. West to the cold mountains. Maybe he could link up with the stranger. Jake smiled to himself. He no longer thought of the stranger as old, just as the stranger. West it was then!
***
Small snow devils formed as the wind whipped around Jake and the scrub he was trudging through. He had been two days on his journey with the stranger always just out of reach. An outcrop of rocks was within trekking distance. They would provide at least some shelter from the icy wind. His toes had ceased to ache and now were numb. He hoped they were not frostbitten. One booted foot in front of the other. The outcrop seemed just as distant as the last time he looked. He had to have some shelter. His thoughts were a jumbled mix of the stranger and the outcrop as he plodded through the prairie scrub. Hours later he stumbled into the lee of the outcrop.
A stinging assault of ice crystals chaffed the exposed areas of his face as he gathered wood for a fire. The wood was already becoming encased in a thin coating of ice, he hoped it would burn. He busted the ice from the sticks he had found and placed them on top of the kindling of dry prairie grass. He always kept a supply of the kindling in his pack. Too many cold, wet nights without a fire had taught him this precaution. A spark flew from his striker and winked out of existence. It took several more tries to get a sustained ember. Jake blew on the yellow ember and the blue smoke quickly sprouted a flame. He gingerly urged it on with a few small twigs and in a short while a popping fire was greedily devouring the wood he had gathered. Huddled inside a blanket with his feet pointing at the fire Jake felt the reassuring tingle of returning sensation. His toes might survive after all.
After a hot meal and a cup of coffee Jake settled in for a nights rest, but sleep would not come. His mind was racing. The stranger! Why was he drawn so to this man? Did he see something or someone in him that he recognized. Jake tried to remember back before the dark time. Nothing was clear, just a jumble of images making precious little sense. Questions about the stranger and the muddle of images battled for Jake's consciences. Exhaustion finally won out and he drifted off to fitful sleep.
He saw a long dusty road. He was walking aimlessly down this dirt road just outside of town, not knowing or caring where he was at or where he was going. The road was lined on both sides with tall grass and thick bushes so he could not see past the edge. After a long while a wagon loaded down with barrels stopped. "Where ya headed, boy?" a bear of a man asked.
He looked at he man with a look of puzzlement on his face and said nothing.
"Well, cat got ya tongue?" The driver was becoming irritated. "At least ya can tell me your name, can't ya?" The man huffed.
"I ... I don't know what my name is mister," he replied.
"What do you mean you don't know your name? Are you stupid or somethin'?" The man barked.
"I'm... I'm... I don't know!" He wailed. Tears streamed from his green eyes leaving pale paths down his dirty face.
Maybe it was the look of pain on the young boy's face or the fact the driver was just curious, but he offered him a ride into Osage City. He sat and stared at the tails of the horses beating an accompanying rhythm to the beat of their hooves on the long dusty road.
After a short span of silence the burly driver looked at the blond headed child and said, "Well now, you got to have a name, boy."
He turned his tear streaked face to the man with a questioning look.
The driver took his straw hat off and wiped his forehead and the brim of the hat with a blue bandanna. "We all got to have names. Take me for instance, my name is Joseph, Joseph Vines. People call me Joe for short." He combed back his brown hair with his fingers and placed the wide brimmed hat back on his head. "I was always partial to Jackson, myself. That was my daddy's name. Yeah, Jackson … and I'll call you Jake for short. Not Jack, my daddy never liked to be called Jack always Jake. What ya think?"
"Jake? I guess so mister. Whatever you say." The name seemed as good as any. Jake looked up at the driver and saw a grin stretch across his wide weathered face.
The day dawned with a clear sky and bright yellow sun. Jake looked out from under his blanket and saw a fairy-like landscape. Ice had coated everything with a clear, sparkling finish. The yellow sun glinted off every facet and produced iridescent stars of color. The dream was always the same. It was his first real memory after the dark time. Any memories before were disjointed and fragmented. And before that was the dark time. It was just that, dark. Nothing there, just an empty black spot.
Jake pulled the blanket off and a breeze gave a sharp reminder of the recent storm. He stirred the campfire to life and added some wood he had kept dry during the night. Soon a small pot of coffee was boiling and Jake was munching on his dwindling stash of corn cakes. He would have to stop and hunt for some food soon. Hunting was not foremost in his mind just now. Why had he followed the stranger that had so briefly entered his life? The enigmatic old man stirred a memory in Jake. It flitted in and out of the shadows in his mind like a moth around a light.
"Damn it!" Echoed across the ice-lacquered prairie. He was so tired of thinking about the stranger. Why was he doing this? It was insane! Jake sat with the forgotten corn cake in his hand and a blanket around his shoulders. He hung his head and wept.
After the emotions were vented Jake stood up and started gathering up his gear. He didn't know why, but he knew that peace wouldn't come until he found the stranger.
The next few days were treacherous and progress was slow. Jake was in the foothills of the Sangre De Cristo Mountains and the temperature fell with the rise of the land. He had seen signs of the stranger here and there, just enough to keep him on his trail. He walked slowly with his .22 rifle in his hands. Suddenly a rabbit jumped and arced its run to Jake's right. A sharp report and the rabbit tumbled end over end to land under a scrub tree.
"We'll have meat tonight!" Jake said aloud. He walked over to his small prey and proceeded to gut and skin it. As he was pulling the gray skin from the red body of the rabbit a sound from behind startled him. He dropped the rabbit and reached for his rifle.
"No need for that, lad. I just thought you might share a meal with me." The stranger was standing not ten feet from Jake! Jake pointed the rifle toward the bearded man and squeezed the trigger. At the last moment he pulled the barrel down to the ground and the bullet ricocheted off the rocky ground next to the strangers boots.
"That's far enough, mister!" Jake was trembling not from fear but from anger. He had been following this man for weeks and now here he was. His feeling were already on edge and the appearance of the stranger forced them to the surface. The dichotomy of the situation was his need for a friend and his fear of the unknown. After so long a chase for it to end so abruptly was a shock.
"You going to shoot me? I though you might want some answers first," the old man chuckled.
"Just how'd you know I want answers?" Jake returned.
"Why else would you be out here? I know you are smarter than to come out here so unprepared this time of year." The stranger stressed the word "know".
"How would you know just what I might do?" Jake's voice cracked as he countered the stranger's comment. Did he really want to know the answer?
"I'll tell you if you will share your rabbit with me."
Jake looked at the bedraggled old man in front him. If it was possible he seemed even thinner than on their first meeting. Compassion swayed Jake's decision. If he was going to get his answers he would just have to go along with the old man. "Alright, I will. But you will have to stick around long enough for me to cook it."
With that the two men, one at the end of his life and one just starting, made their way to Jake's campsite.
***
The rabbit had been eaten long ago and the two men, one old and one young, were quietly drinking their coffee. A shadow play from the flickering fire danced across Jake's face as he sipped his coffee. His calm face belied the anxiety inside himself. Jake looked over the rim of his tin cup at the white-haired man across the fire from him. What was it about this stranger? He seemed so familiar and yet … so strange. Jake still had no answers as to why he had followed this old man across the prarie and into the foothills of the Sanges De Cristo mountains. Winter was coming on for God's sake! Hell, winter was all but here this high in the range. He knew one of the reasons. Loneliness, but that didn't explain it all. He felt a need inside himself he had never felt before. It was a strong, overpowering need that drew him to the old stranger.
"Why are you following me, boy?" The old man asked as if he could read his thoughts.
"I don't rightly know mister," Jake replied cautiously.
"You have a need that is driving you on." This was a statement not a question. "You're lonely too, I bet."
Jake just stared at the old man. He moved the coffee to his lips and sipped a small amount to cover his shock. This had startled Jake. Could this old man really read his mind? He quickly dismissed this as fantasy, but the question remained. How did this wirey old man know so much about him?
"Like I said before, I don't know!" Jake was becoming angry.
The stranger chuckled and grabbed the pot simmering on the small fire and poured himself another cup. "Don't get upset, son. I know you have these feelings, because I have them as well."
How could he have the same feelings as me? Jake thought to himself. The darkness seemed to be closing in around him and he flet a chill run through him. He put a few more sticks in the fire in an attempt to dispell the sudden chill. After he had the fire going to his liking he said, "Tell me who you are, mister."
The stranger hesitated for a long moment. "You can call me ... Jack, Jack Yeager. Yes, that will do."
Jake didn't think Jack Yeager was his real name and he said so.
The stranger turned those large green eyse on him and said, "Good as any. Why, don't you like it?"
"Alright Jack, if that is your name, what did you mean by when you are from when you were here the last time?" Jack gave back the stare.
"You have any problem following me, Jake?"
"Well, yes ... sometimes. Most of the time I could track you, but then I would lose the trail. It was like you just up and flew for awhile. Later I would pick it up again miles away out of the blue," Jake said through narrowed eyes.
"The times you lost my trail were the times I shifted, shifted in time." The stranger watched Jake to see if he had an inkling of understanding. "I had to shift. They were getting too close and I couldn't let them find you."
Jake made up his mind that this old man was a lunatic! Shifted in time? What hooey! He decided to play along. "Where did you shift in time?"
"Not where..." the aged stranger started.
"I know, I know. When not where," Jake finished for him.
"You are catching on!" Jack Yeager cackled. "The vocabulary changes when you travel in time."
"Listen old man, I ain't as big a fool as you think!" Jake had had enough. "All this fool talk about shifting in time and my vocaba... vocabu... what ever the hell you said, is pure horse manure!"
"Horse manure? So you think I'm crazy, do you?" the old man stood up and his body seemed to straighten as his anger rose. "Well, ploughboy, if I'm crazy how do I know about the darktime?"
"How could you ... I don't understand?" Jake stammered, emotions rippling across his face. "You couldn't possibly know about the darktime!"
"Oh, but I do. I do! I know quite a bit about you. In fact, I probably know more about you than you do!" The old man's eyes twinkled in the flickering firelight. "However, I can't tell you everything. No, not everything." His eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at his steaming cup of coffee.
Jake's face fell when he heard this. "But you have to tell me! I followed you for so long. I have to know!" Anguish poured from his face as he cried, "Mister, I just have to KNOW!"
The stranger winced under Jake's emotional assault. He could indeed feel his pain! It was his pain, too. How much could he tell the boy? Too much and things would change again. Too little and again change only in a different direction. "I will tell you all that I can. No promises, but I will give you as much information as is allowed." He could see the yearning in the young man's face as he said this.
"The darktime. What is it? Why can't I remember?" Jake gushed. He had hungered for the answers to these question for as long as he could remember. He had to know!
"I'm sorry, Jake. The darktime will have to remain a mystery, at least for now." Jack studied the boy for a short time and then continued. "Before you can know about the darktime you will have to complete your training." He looked closely for Jake's reaction to his remarks.
Jake didn't like what he had heard. His hopes had built up only to be dashed on the rocks of the stranger's words. "Wait a minute! What do you mean by training?" Jake asked.
"You have already started your training," the old man replied.
"I haven't done anything, mister," the young man said with vehemence in his voice.
"Oh, but you have, you have. You started it just after our first meeting when I left." Laughter danced in those opalescent jade orbs that seemed to so incongruous in a man of his age.
"How did I do that?" inquired Jake with a note of skepticism.
"You followed me, didn't you? You followed me knowing that winter was close and with scant supplies to boot!"
Jake looked deep into his cold cup of coffee before he replied. "I ... I had to follow you. Something made me do it. I know that sounds crazy, but that's the truth." It was the truth. He didn't know why he had followed this old white-haired stranger. He only knew he had had to follow him. This story of shifting in time and starting his training combined with the roller coaster ride of emotions made Jake's head swim. Tears ran freely down his tan weathered cheeks. When he next looked up at the old man. "Mister... ahh... Yeager?"
"Yes, Jake?" the old man seemed to soften as he gazed on Jake's tear streaked face. Perhaps he remembered his own tears of long ago.
Jake looked deep into the stranger's green eyes, looking for something, anything that might satisfy his needs. "I don't understand." The sound was soft and weak, but the look on his face was imploring.
"You're tired, Jake. We will begin tomorrow. Besides, I'm tired myself. These old bones can't take it like they used too." With that the old man pitched his cold coffee into the night and turned it upside down on the boy's pack. "Tomorrow, Jake, tomorrow." He pulled the hood of his cloak over his age splotched head and his blanket close around his wiry frame. Soon he was snoring in his sleep.
The tin cup slipped from Jake's trembling hand and spilled cold coffee on his trousers. "Damn that old reprobate! Damn him!" Jake shivered and stoked the campfire for the night. "Tomorrow, he says," he said aloud. Jake wrapped his own blanket around his shoulders and stared into the deep, dark night. He slept little that night.
***
Dawn came slowly to the gray clouded sky. By the time dawn had made its lonely struggle to light the land with its dimness, Jake was already awake. He had sat wrapped in his woolen blanket watching the dark images of night blend into the daytime shapes of rocks and scrub. His thoughts were in turmoil. The stranger had led him on last night with a promise of answers. He had answered a few, but had refused to answer any more until morning. Well, it was morning and Jake intended to get his answers!
He threw off the blanket and struggled to his feet, his legs were cramped from his sleepless night. Jake rubbed his calves and looked at the campfire, looking for any life to rekindle. He straightened up an looked over at the place where the hooded stranger had made his bed. He was gone! Damn him! Jake ran around the campsight ranting and raving, cursing the old scarecrow of a man. He left me alone again!
"Why are you running around like a chicken with broken neck?" The voice crackled from behind.
"Where were you?" Jake demanded.
The old man chuckled again. "When you get to be my age, you have a little trouble getting your water started in the morning. The old plumbing doesn't work as well as it used to." Jake turned around to see mirth twinkling from the stranger's jade-green eyes.
Jake was calming down just a little, but he was still mad as hell and a little scared of being left alone again. As much as he disliked this old man, he was the only person he had to talk to. Besides, he knew things about him that Jake thought only he knew! "I thought you had up and left again!" Jake tried to sound angry, but the old man's face told he had failed. "Last night you promised some answers this morning. It's morning, are you going to keep that promise?"
"What I said was that I would tell you what I could, what you will need to know to complete our mission!" Jack snapped back.
"Okay, Okay whatever you say, mister. I only meant that you had promised me some answers."
"I can't tell you everything, Jake." Those bright green eyes of the old man looked Jake over, searching for ... what? "I will tell you all that I can, though. Jake, you have heard me correct you when you asked me where I was from?"
"Yeah, you told me the correct word was when you were from, not where! What did you mean by that?" Jake's face took on a boyish eagerness as he waited on the old man to collect his thoughts.
"I am not from this time, Jake. Well, actually I am...."
"Either you are or you aren't, Mister. Make up your mind!" To Jake this seemed silly. First of all the old man was talking nonsense. Not from this time, indeed, and then he couldn't even make up his mind about it!
The stranger stared at Jake for a short while before he continued. "I know this is hard to believe, boy, but it is the truth! I started out just like you, very much like you in fact. Right here in this time! Later I crossed to another time. A time far into the future!"
Jake's face showed his incredulity and the stranger again looked into Jake's young eyes. "I know, I know! This is hard to swallow, but it is mandatory that you believe me! I crossed time to..." He paused here as if he were coming to a decision. "...to about 60 years from now."
"That would be 1943! You're right mister, this is hard to swallow!" Jake was still incredulous, but his inquisitive nature asserted itself. "Just what was ... er ... will it be like then?"
"Well there was a great war going on and America had just joined the fray. This wasn't like any war seen before! It was fought with great steel ships loaded with the biggest cannon you ever saw! There were ships that flew through the air and fought other airships." The old man's eyes seemed to sparkle as he related his tale to Jake.
"Airships! Really?" Jake's face was rapt with attention.
"Airships and more airships! Except they called them airplanes. Some small and fast others big enough to carry bombs big enough to destroy a half a small town! And of course men, men not much older than you. They wore metal helmets on their heads and carried repeating rifles, some would fire as long as you pressed the trigger. These they called machine guns. These men died, some bravely, some quietly, but still dead just the same."
At this point the old man had to stop and wipe tears from his eyes. He turned away from the boy in an attempt to hide them, but Jake saw them. He wondered why this old man was crying for men yet to die?
Finally after blowing his nose and coughing to cover his emotions Jack continued. "I'm sorry about that, kid, I lost some good friends then. You might be wondering who we were fighting, I guess? They were called the AXIS powers. Japan, Germany, and Italy. Germany is called Prussia in this time. Later on they will be led by a madman called Hitler. Evil as they come, he was … or will be. Hell! Crossing time plays havoc on your vocabulary. To me it's in the past, to you the future! I'll just tell it like it happened to me, alright?" He didn't wait for an answer.
"Well, it took over three years, but we licked them! Italy fell by the wayside early. They didn't have the stomach for it, I guess. Germany fell next with Japan holding out the longest. It took some drastic measures to bring them to their knees. They are a fanatical race! America developed a bomb that could destroy a whole city. A city, mind you, not a town! And it took two of them to get them to sue for peace!"
Jake watched the old man's face to see if he was joshing him or not. "A whole city! There ain't enough gunpowder in all of creation to do that!"
"It wasn't gunpowder, son, it was a new kind of bomb. They called it an atomic bomb and it was real, that's for sure. Nasty explosion! It would flatten buildings for miles and kill most everyone for miles more! Even if you didn't die in the explosion, it threw up a poison in the air they called radiation. This radiation would last for years and could cause you to get sick twenty to thirty years later!" Jack's face twisted in disgust as he related this part of the story.
"Well after about six years there I again crossed time. This time it was the past, not very long past from here, about twenty years ago."
"That put you right in the middle of the Civil War!" Jake's eyebrows knitted together in thought as he pondered his next words. "Jack, why is it both times you crossed time you came out in the middle of a war?"
"Just luck, at least for the first time. The second time and every other time was on purpose! You see, I was being chased and I figured I could hide myself better in the middle of a war."
"Every other time? There was more times?" Jake exclaimed.
Jack's face clouded with dark memories. "Yes, many ... too many."
To be continued...