The Time Killer

Thirteen

                                                                                           November 22, 1963

      More than a dozen doctors, nurses, technicians moved efficiently around each other in Trauma Room 1. That dozen also included Cain, who had slipped into a pair of scrubs. To the dozen were members of the Secret Service, FBI, military brass, and most likely intelligence agents. Attorney General Robert Kennedy and Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara would also pop into the room from time to time. The small room was very crowded and no one was sure who was in charge. The Secret Service deferred to the Attorney General. The FBI deferred only to their Bureau head, J. Edgar Hoover, who was sending orders via two way devices attached in the agents ears. The military brass only listened to Secretary McNamara who was running between Vice President Lyndon Johnson’s room and Trauma Room 1. The doctors were being given orders by everyone, and were not sure who to listen to. Adding to the chaos, Cain was giving orders to the doctors as well.

      Stepping back, he watched as the doctors try to resuscitate the president. After working for almost thirty minutes, the atmosphere in the room changed. Cain popped out of the room and finding Secretary McNamara, ask him to come into the room.

      Once inside, Cain adopted a humble manner and, since the slain president was from New England, he adopted a north-eastern accent.

      “The book of Wisdom tells us that the souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and no torment will ever touch them.”

      The elder Gra made the sign of the cross, knowing Kennedy was Roman Catholic.

      With that Cain excused himself and disappeared down the hallway, laughing all the way to his ship.

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                                                       Lexington, KY

                                                      January 26, 2020

      Lexington Ky is a college town, as is San Antonio. Lexington became a city in 1782 and is roughly the twenty fifth largest city in the United States. Why is this important? Lexington is one of the few major cities over one hundred years old that is not by a water way. This is important because before railroads crisscrossed the country, water was the way goods were moved. This meant that everything that was brought into Lexington was done so by horsepower. That’s why horse farms surround Lexington. That was one of the attractions initially. But it was one my short list because of dad.

      “Why because of me?”

      “I wanted horses surrounding me wherever I went. But I also wanted a large enough population that I wouldn’t stuck writing tickets to the same thirteen people every day. With those two variables, that didn’t leave many choices.”

      “Are ya disappointed with yer choice?”

      “I don’t think I could have picked a better place. The population is nowhere near as big as San Antonio, but it reminds me of it. They’re both college towns. They both have a heavy fan base through their local sports teams. Between the young, the old, the frats, the people coming from out of town for games, and the people who either had money from horses or from the burgeoning bourbon industry, there is enough variety to keep the job interesting.”

      “But I gotta tell you dad, you are the reason I’ve had trouble working with partners.”

      “How in the hell you work that out Junior?”

      Dad gave me that look. You know that look that all parents have. It says everything from ‘what the hell are you smoking,’ to ‘how in the hell are you related to me?’

      “You thought everybody should work as hard as you. Whenever I worked on the ranch with you, I got very, very tired of you always being on my ass. You never took a break unless it was to wipe the sweat off of your head. I couldn’t keep up with you, but I tried.”

      “But I understand now. You were beating me over the head every day. You were showing me what it was like everyday to wake up and get my ass to work. It don’t matter if you’re sick, if you’re in pain, it don’t matter if half of your ass is laying in the street. You keep moving.”

      “So I brought that to my career. Being a cop is not a 9-5 thing, and not even a 9-9 thing. It’s a 24 hour thing and I ain’t seeing it. Maybe that’s what Ian meant with his 83% thing when he chose me for his partner.”

      “What is he, yer tenth partner?”

      I laughed. “You HAVE been watching me, ain’t you? Let’s just say I’ve turned into you and EVERYONE else was me as a kid.”

      “But dad, if I’m being honest with you, and I always try to be.” I laughed again. “At least now I try to be honest with you, if I’m being honest this case has me worried.”

      “Worried, how?”

      “I’ve been the lead investigator for one hundred and three cases. I’ve been an assistant in hundreds more. I devore cases on my time off. I research unsolved. I believe I can solve any case put before me. But this one, I don’t think I’ll be able too.”

      “Okie, walk me thru what ya do on yer cases.”

      “Remember my journalism courses? I never had any intention of becoming a reporter, but my intention then was to understand how the interview process as closely as I could. I thought I could incorporate that into my police work.”

      “When I begin, I talk to the victim. At first, I talked out loud to them. My first partner, Johnson, laughed at this.” With this I laughed, remembering this out of shape lazy pos that passed as a cop.

      Dad gave me that look again.

      “How’s that for a case of sometimes people have the perfect name. Johnson, yeah, I asked him once if his first name was Tiny.” Dad laughed. “Johnson’s laughter embarrassed me, but it pissed me off. Word got around the department.”

      “I came in one morning and my partner and three others were sitting in a circle around my desk. They said they were preparing to hold a seance and were waiting on the medium. I became the cop that talked to the dead.”

      “Sorry ‘bout that Junior. But people always want ta find ways ta make fun of folk.”

      “I attempted to beat the hell out of Johnson. I waited until after hours one night and told him I had had enough of his shit. I threw the first punch, and about three punches after that. But        for as out of shape as he was, he could fight.”

      “Or maybe back then I just sucked at it.”

      “Maybe a lil of both.”

      “Maybe. Maybe. But it was a good thing eventually because it forced me to make notes to myself mentally. I had to remember more, and write down less. I found the more I worked on this, the less I had to write down. Now I have almost a photographic memory. I make brief notes now after I leave the scene to remind myself of what I saw.”

      “So why ain’t that gonna work now?”

      “Because I’m not there dad. All I got is a receiver. Its almost like watching a damn movie.”

      I watched dad’s face. I knew from watching him closely over the years that he thought things out thoroughly before saying anything. It was almost like he was having a conversation in his head and was preparing an answer for whatever the other person might say.

      “Ain’t nobody better at this than you. I don’t say this ‘cause yer my kin. I say it ‘cause it’s true. Think about it. This god-guy . . “

      “Which one?”

      “The one you workin with.”

      “Ian.”

      “Ya say Ian is from another planet, right? He could’ve’a picked millions, or billions of others. But he picked you. Do ya think he’s an idgit?’

      “I know where you’re going with this. You want me to see that he could have chosen anyone else, but chose me instead. But consider this premise.”

      “You have a malevolent god from another planet who steals a time travelling spaceship. He travels through time, killing random people. And why does he do it, you ask? Go ahead, ask.”

      “Okie, why is he doin’ it?”

      “Just to fuck with ‘us apes.’”

      “The bad guy never needs a reason to be the bad guy, Junior.”

      “Alright dad, I agree. But try this. Now the bad guy’s people, who are all pacifists, decide to send the evil god’s brother to stop him. Now, we have to think that the bad guy and the good guy are pretty equal, power wise, right? Right?”

      “So ya wonder what the god-guy needs wit you.”

      “Well, yeah.”

      “Junior, you has the opportunity to be a part of history. Yeah, ya have been in charge of over a hunderd cases, but no one cares. No one will ‘member ya.”

      “Now they will. Or is you worried you have nothin’ to add?”

      I had nothing to say. He had really figured out my problem with it.

      “My favorit writer is Justin Tubb. He always seem ta have a character that said ‘don’t be a dumbass.’ Go find one of his books. He’ll say it better’n I could. Now, wind up this chapter, put your feet up with a cigar and yer bourbon.”

      That was a great suggestion.

      I think I will.