CHAPTER 3

“Permeating the thin plane of the present, electromagnetic excitations

connect humans in complex and unpredictable ways.”

From: “The Radio Amateurs Handbook of the Ethereal”

“Who the heck are you?”

The vibration and sound of the engines made it hard to hear. I turned and looked at the speaker who was sitting beside me with a window seat. He was staring at me with a suspicious look on his face, his body leaning away from me like I had just appeared out of thin air. This of course is exactly what happened, I think, because a second ago I was sitting on a couch in San Diego. The speaker was waiting for an answer and I didn't have a really good explanation for my sudden appearance so I answered the question literally. “My name is Don, nice to meet you.” I stuck out my hand.

He didn't make a move to take it. “Ok, Don, I don't know how you got on board this aircraft but you better have a good explanation.”

Yeah, see this is the thing about time travel that bugs me; you never have a good explanation. The truth is hard to swallow and making up stories to explain your appearance, especially in this circumstance, is equally as hard to get down. I looked around and saw there were only two people in the small aircraft cabin and I was the second one. Maybe distraction will work.

“I think I'm getting airsick.” I said, trying to make my face look green. “Is there a barf bag here somewhere?”

I could see by his body language and the look on his face that the distraction ploy didn't work.

He said. “Look, I've had a pretty rough few days and I fell asleep after we took off from Da Nang but when we took off I was the only one on board other than the pilot and copilot. We haven't landed and there is no place to stow away in here so where did you come from?”

The tiredness showed on his tanned and lean face. He looked to be of average height but was very muscular judging by the bulges in the shoulders and arms of his white Navy uniform. I didn't see any weapons on him anywhere but he looked lethal just the same. He had black wavy hair and his steely blue eyes glowed in the bright sunlight shining through a window. Making up a story would be one option but I knew I would trip myself up trying to convince him of some lie. I had to tell the truth, but maybe I could work into it gently.

“Have you ever done something you didn't think you could? I mean something you thought was impossible until you tried it and amazingly it worked?”

“I've had a couple of experiences like that recently.” He said. “What's your point? Don't even try to tell me you can fly like Tinker Bell and came in through the air vent.”

“No, not that.” Actually something even weirder than that.

He was getting a little more comfortable with me being there but I didn't want to push it.

“What if I told you I `m a time traveler mining the data encoded in the genes in every cell of my body and every piece of coagulated energy in the universe and have been sent here to see if I can find someone?”

“Very funny.” He said. “Try again.”

“Quantum fluctuation?”

“What are you talking about?”

“OK, what if I told you I was looking for someone named Jim, who has a wife in Japan named Hilda.”

Oh yeah, that got his attention. His face got red and he stiffened in his seat, I could tell I was skating on thin ice now. My next time traveler position was probably going to be on the floor with a foot on my neck.

“I'm a friend of Hilda and Shirley's.” I quickly added, putting my hands up, palms toward him.

“What are you talking about? Who's Shirley? You better talk fast or you're going to be shark bait.”

I talked fast. “Hilda has a friend named Shirley who convinced me to try a mind experiment and it worked and I can mentally travel in time and they asked me to go back to find Jim who…”

Yikes I better shut up

“Who what?”

“Is your name Jim?”

“Let's just say for the moment that I know Jim and I know he would be very interested to know how you know his wife.”

“It's a long story.”

“Give me a summary.”

“OK, but you'll have to keep an open mind.”

“Let's hear it.”

“I was on the freeway headed to the beach to go surfing when the traffic stopped. I had time to look around and I noticed an antenna on the edge of a mesa. It was a Ham antenna on a tower; I'm a Ham so I was curious about it. A couple of days later I searched the area where I had seen the antenna and after looking for a while I finally found it. It was in the evening and dark and windy outside. For some reason I got spooked but I went and knocked on the door anyway. A grandmotherly woman answered the door and I introduced myself as a newcomer to Ham Radio and that I had seen her antenna and thought she might have time to talk Ham Radio with me.”

“She was very cordial and we had tea and a nice conversation. It turned out that we both knew about an obscure almost unbelievable phenomenon that can affect radio operators. She had heard about it from her Grandfather who had first hand knowledge of the strange effect it can have. I told her that I had actually survived an encounter with the phenomenon and was having some lasting effects from it. At this point she called her neighbor over to talk to me about it.”

“The neighbor lady was a dream analyzer and therapist. She decided to try an experiment on me, believing that the effects the phenomenon I had experienced might allow me to travel into the past.”

“Look, I'm not stupid. How did you meet Hilda?”

“The grandmotherly lady was Hilda.”

He was looking me in the eye, trying to get a feel for my credibility. The hum and vibration of the radial engines on the wings droned on for a long minute before he said anything. The fact of my appearance in the aircraft, knowing Hilda's name, that she was a Ham and that I was looking for Jim must have been puzzle pieces he was trying to fit together.

“So, you were affected by some phenomenon, you met Hilda because you saw her Ham antenna, you tried a mind experiment that let you travel in time and Hilda sent you to the past to find her husband Jim for some reason. That about it”

“Hilda makes green tea with blueberry juice.”

I could see I was making progress. I was not there yet but the look in his eyes now was more of interest than disbelief.

“Why would she want you to find Jim.”

“Because he was killed in a flight deck accident on the USS Ranger in 1966 that she didn't understand or was ever able to get over. The sorrow from that shock stayed with her and the lack of an explanation of what happened kept her wondering. She eventually went on with her life but the lingering questions stayed with her. She hoped I could find out why he was on an assignment she knew nothing about and where he had gone. She was never told exactly what happened on the flight deck the day he was killed and wondered why the Navy was so evasive about it. She thought I might be able to find some answers.”

He sat there looking at me. He had a suspicious look on his face but I could tell he was moved and wanted to know more. After a moment he looked away and stared out the window. The engines droned on while I waited for him to think through what I had told him.

We were violently interrupted by an explosion on the right wing and the plane went into hard right turning dive. I didn't have a seat belt on and I flew across the cabin and was pinned there by centrifugal force as the plane went spiraling down. My heart was in my throat, I could see the man I was talking to was looking at me but he couldn't get up to help me. The aircraft was shuddering and shaking, I thought it was going to break up and fall into the ocean in pieces. Suddenly there was a strong jolt and a propeller blade broke through the fuselage just aft of the forward cabin bulkhead. The shaking stopped and slowly the pilot got us leveled out. I got up and was able to make my way back to the seat next to the sailor.

“What happened?” I yelled over noise of air blowing into the hole in the fuselage and objects banging around in the wind.

“I don't know for sure but part of the engine exploded and the propeller broke off and chopped into the cabin. I think the pilots have it under control now.”

I buckled myself in, we were still at altitude and I was getting cold and I started shivering. My tee shirt and jeans with holes in them weren't much protection. We seemed to be stable and flying straight but the left engine was making more noise than it was before. The plane had a nose up attitude but it felt like we were descending.

“Doesn't look good I hope we can make it to the carrier. We shouldn't be too far out now.” He said over the noise and wind. “Who are you? How do you know Hilda?”

“I told you the truth, Hilda sent me back in time to find out what happened to Jim. She still misses him terribly. He never returned from the USS Ranger, they told her he had an accident on the flight deck and was killed. She has been living by herself for more than forty years.”

“No, I can't believe it. That's a bunch of crap, what's going on?”

“Are you Jim? Are you Hilda's husband?"

“Yes.”

This is the point in this excursion into the past that made me hesitant when Hilda proposed it. What was I going to say to him if I found him? Could I do something to try to save him and change the future? I thought of Hilda alone for forty years and decided I was going to do anything, say anything, and coerce any connection I had with the universe to change what happened.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy but it's true. I came here from two thousand seven, forty-one years in the future for you. This is the second time I've done this visiting the past experiment. It just happens to work for me with Hilda's friend Shirley's help. When I have been mentally prepared Shirley gives me a scenario to become part of, she hums a tune and talks me into a state where I feel like my mind is free to go anywhere and somehow I snap into it. That's how I got on the plane.”

“You can see I'm not dressed for a military flight onto an aircraft carrier; I have a digital watch on that is impossible in 1966. I can tell you things about the future, for instance, by the end of the Vietnam War in 1975 we will have lost over fifty eight thousand men and women killed. Navy pilot Neil Armstrong will be the first man to set foot on the Moon in 1969. In 1980 a fanatic will shoot John Lennon of the Beatles to death in New York and in 2007 the FCC will do away with all code requirements for a Ham License. Ward Silver will write a book titled “Ham Radio for Dummies” that is so good it should have been titled “Ham Radio for Really, Really, Really Smart People.””

With a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes Jim said. “Okay, let's say I believe you. According to you I am going to die in a flight deck accident on the USS Ranger. What year does that happen?”

“1966.”

“Well this is 1966, our aircraft is damaged and, if we make it, we're headed for a landing on the Ranger.”

“Right.”

I looked at the propeller blade sticking into the front of the fuselage and listened to the laboring left engine.

Jim asked: “What did you want answers to.”

“You're an Aviation Radioman, why did you leave the ship? Where did you go?”

“I was sent to help a squad of Special Forces with communications on a top secret mission. They were infiltrating into North Vietnam to report on the movement of NVA troops. The attrition in the Special Forces is high and they needed a radioman. Somehow they found me out of all the radiomen in the world. Since I'm in good shape and have some knowledge of North Vietnamese geography I guess they thought I was a good candidate. A man named Luke came to see me on the ship and asked if I would volunteer to take the job. He said it was very dangerous. The squad would be attempting to get close to large groups of North Vietnamese Army troops and follow them and report on their locations and where they go. The reporting had to be done using a special radio and procedures that require knowledge of electronics, propagation, and geography. That's where I came in.”

I was totally engrossed in the story. The sound of the wind rushing and the laboring engine noise faded out and all I heard was Jim talking. I could imagine him carrying a radio on his back, sneaking through the jungle with the squad. They would have to be very quiet and use hand signals to communicate with each other. Approaching the NVA closely and waiting for them to move, maybe trying to listen to conversations between the officers. This would take unusual courage and skill.

“I spent two months in North Vietnam with the squad. We followed several company strength groups and reported as much as we could. Twice we were detected and had to run for our lives. We managed to evade and hide in the jungle both times. The third time we weren't so lucky. We were following a battalion strength unit when our point was surprised by a booby trap and died. We think they'd been warned by the company strength troops we'd followed that they may be spied on. The booby trap explosion drew the attention of a rear guard and the chase was on. It happened very quickly and despite our best efforts and heroics on the part of the squad all but two were caught and executed on the spot.”

Jim paused here, obviously difficult for him to talk about.

“I was a distance from the rest of the squad on the top of a hill sending reports by radio when they were surrounded. I could see what happened; the two that had not been caught were hiding under a rock outcrop on the side of a hill. NVA were very close to them. I ditched the radio gear and got to a position where I could toss a grenade at a pile of loose rocks above them. The grenade started a rockslide and the NVA fled down the hill. This gave me enough time to signal the two and they followed me to the top of the hill where I retrieved the radio.”

“The NVA came looking for us. I`d reported our position and predicament when the squad was surrounded and they told me there was a helicopter on the way. I kept a running account of our position and situation over the radio as we evaded as best we could. Some Spads showed up and strafed the NVA with machine gun fire and rockets. That pushed them back and gave us enough time for the Huey to pick us up under fire. They took us to Da Nang where one of the other guys who had a bullet wound in his right arm was treated. The next day this COD we're sitting in came from the Ranger to pick me up and take me back to the carrier.”

I sat there looking at Jim. He was looking at me. My heart was swelling with pride and awe for this man. I don't think too often of the individuals who have volunteered and sacrificed to do things for us that are so difficult and dangerous. When you look in the eyes of a person like that it is a feeling you won't forget.

In a quiet voice he said: “I may not see Hilda again. If you get back to 2007 will you tell her I'm sorry and I love her?”

“Sure but maybe we can do something about this. I don't even know if I`m going to get back to the future. If I get killed in a crash I don't know what will happen. I might just disappear for all I know. Let's think. What can we do to stop a crash from happening?”

“Look Don, it's pretty hard to stop an airplane from crashing if it has a mind to. If it goes into the ocean before we get to the carrier we might survive but the chances are not good to get out of here before it sinks. Assuming we survive the impact with the water that is.”

“Do you think there might be any parachutes on board?” I asked hopefully.

“Let's talk to the pilots.”

We both got up and walked past the propeller sticking through the fuselage and looked in the cockpit. The copilot side was covered in blood and the copilot was slumped over. There was another hole in the fuselage just in front of the forward cabin bulkhead where one of the other blades on the three bladed prop had pierced it and hit the copilot. The pilot appeared to be in shock. He was pale and slow to answer when we talked to him. I looked out the windshield and realized it was getting dark and I could see the lights of a ship in the distance. We asked if there were any parachutes and the pilot shook his head and said we were going to try to land on the carrier in a few minutes and to get back to out seats, strap in and prepare for a hard landing.

I was thinking fast. Could we jump out? No, that didn't sound like a good idea we'd probably die hitting the water. Maybe put some padding around our bodies? There was nothing in reach that would work as padding. Our only option is to trust the pilot to land and hope this was not the flight deck accident that would kill Jim. Prayer was our best bet.

We strapped into the seats and I heard the engine change sound, slowing. I felt the bumping sound of the landing gear coming out and felt the aircraft turning.

Jim smiled and said: “If we make it through this I have a lot of questions for you about the stock market.”

I felt the pilot cut the engines followed by a severe crash as we hit the flight deck. There was a screeching and tearing sound as the right side of the fuselage was torn open by the propeller sticking in it. We veered to the right and hit something hard…

***

Surreal. I was sitting on the flight deck with Jim's head in my lap. I had just closed his unseeing eyes. The swirling movement around me added to my dazed and confused state if mind. There were fire hoses all over, tugs moving aircraft around and some being pushed by hand. People were running and pointing and shouting. My head hurt and I felt like I had been run over by a truck. This was all happening fast but my brain was in slow motion. A little while ago I was on the couch in Hilda's house and now I feel like I'm in hell.

Three sailors arrived with stretchers, took Jim off my lap, and carefully lifted me onto a stretcher. They carried me to the large aircraft elevator just aft of the flight deck island. I saw our aircraft more clearly as we passed. There was firefighting foam all over the aircraft and the fire was mostly out except for some residual smoke. I could see that we had run into another aircraft. The other aircraft was an F-4 Phantom with what looked like a puking dog painted on the tail. One of its wings had sliced through the cockpit windshield of our airplane. The pilot didn't have a chance. The tail of our aircraft was gone and I couldn't see it anywhere. The wings had broken off and the fuselage was crushed on the bottom near where the tail should have been. We went down the elevator with other people and an F-4.

They carried me through the hangar deck for a short distance then into a passageway, which took us to a very clean, obviously medical room. They put me on a padded stainless steel table and what appeared to be a very young doctor started cleaning my head and examining me.

“You don't have any serious injuries.” He said. “Except for the cut on your head you look ok.”

After a few minutes of peering and probing he said. “I'm going to put a few stitches to close that cut. Do you have any problems with your eyesight or hearing?”

“No but I have a headache and I don't think I can smell anything, was that alcohol you were cleaning my head with?”

“Yes, you can't smell it?”

“Nope. Let me try it again.”

He held the alcohol under my nose and I took a whiff. “I don't smell a thing.”

“You probably have a mild concussion. I'm going to keep you here so I can keep an eye on you for a while. I don't want you to go to sleep but I'll give you some pain killer for your headache.” He finished his exam and then sewed my head together. He helped me up and told me to sit on the chair at the desk outside the exam room. I was feeling shaky and dizzy. This has been a most unsettling escapade. I should have listened to Fred and gone bowling.

Sitting on the chair I could hear a hum and feel vibrations that seemed to come from all directions. The room was moving like it was inside something alive. There were distant sounds of banging and I could hear the doctor in the passageway talking to someone in hushed tones. I couldn't make out what they were saying but it seemed to be contentious and ended with the other person saying loudly “Too bad.”

A large man with a green sweatshirt came in the door looking at me intently. He was over six feet tall probably 250 pounds with short cut hair. His eyes were kind of squinty like a sailor that had been looking into the bright sunlight reflected off the ocean for many years. He also had that look of confidence and authority that comes with long experience of telling people what to do and having them do it. He stood looking at me for a moment before speaking. I realized that my tee shirt, holey jeans and Reeboks didn't fit in very well with the rest of the attire worn in this locale.

“My name is Luke, I have a few questions for you.” He said with a somewhat hostile edge to his voice. “I'm the one who pulled you out of the aircraft with Jim. I thank you for what you did for him.”

Jim's face with his unseeing eyes flashed in my mind and my heart sank again. I thought of Hilda. Damn, I wish I could have done something to stop this from happening.

“I need a few answers from you.” He said getting right to the point. “Who are you and why were you on that aircraft?”

Here we go again. I blurted the first thing that came into my aching head. “My name is Don and I was a last minute pick-up from Da Nang. I was in Vietnam on a Ham Dxpedition and got left behind.”

As soon as I said it I knew I was trying to blow smoke in a windstorm.

“Jim was the only passenger on the aircraft when it took off. I've been in contact with the loadmaster in Da Nang. He personally saw the aircraft taxi out with only one passenger. Don't think you are going to get away with anything. I have the ability to hold you for interrogation as long as necessary. Tell me the truth right now and it'll go a lot better for you.” He pulled up a chair turned it around backward and sat down with his arms on the back.

I told the truth, the whole thing, ElectroEvapoKineticSublimation, hyperimagination, Hilda and Shirley, my previous visit to the past and why I came to 1966. Amazingly during my story a startled look came over Luke's face. His jaw dropped, his squinty's popped open and his body language changed from relaxed antagonism to what looked like surprised excitement.

“Oh my God, I've seen you before.” He said after I finished my story. “You were in my parent's house eating Christmas dinner with us. I didn't think too much about it at the time but I remember I thought you looked strange. My parents told us you were a Ham visiting from California. That must have been thirty some years ago but you look exactly like I remember.”

Christmas dinner? Thirty some years ago? The light in my brain came on slowly like the filament in a tube warming up. His name is Luke; the parent's names were Susan and Cy. They were my first visit to the past. Luke was a polite little kid who gulped his Christmas dinner so he could go play with his new toys. This is that Luke?

“Was your brother's name Nathan and your sister's name Elizabeth?

“Yup.”

“Your parents are Susan and Cy. You parents have a friend named Ward who lives in Silverdale.”

“Yup.”

He was looking at me in disbelief, shaking his head. There was a long silence while we looked at each other. The ship was making a turn and the deck tilted. The hum of the ventilation and engines were the only sounds. In a place surrounded by machinery and people it seemed like we were alone in the universe.

Unbelievably this was that Luke. “Did my Mom and Dad know you were visiting from the future?” He asked.

“Yeah, we had a long talk after you went to play with your toys. I told them everything and convinced them where I came from. They were as good to me as could be. I finished that fabulous dinner and suddenly while we were talking I returned to the couch in Hilda's house. I felt really bad for a while, thinking I might have influenced them somehow and caused them some trouble.”

“I don't think so, they're both still alive in Pennsylvania. My Dad is still an active Ham. He's on the radio all the time. It seems Ham radio is a lifelong love for a lot of people.”

He suddenly got serious.

“Look Don, I work for the Company, do you know what I mean by that?” I shook my head yes. “I don't have much time I'm only on the ship temporarily. I'm supposed to fly to Washington to make a report in person about the mission Jim was on. I was going to debrief him when he got back. It's very important we find out what they ran into over there. Did he say anything to you about what happened?”

I told Luke everything Jim said to me on the plane. I was feeling very woozy and my eyes were starting to get heavy by the time I finished. My head still hurt and I think I was getting seasick. Luke must have realized I was at the end of my rope.

“This is very valuable information you've given me Don. I have to get back to Washington and make my report as soon as possible. You don't look so good so I'm going to let you rest. I'll let the Doctor back in to take care of you. Thank you for your help. This is the second time we've run into each other. There must be some kind of connection between us. I have a lot of questions I'd like to ask you but time is short and you don't look up to it.”

“One last thing Luke.” I asked. “Can you go visit Jim's wife Hilda in Japan? Tell her what happened to him. If you don't go she's going to suffer for the next forty years wondering exactly what he was doing and what happened to him.”

He nodded his head. “I'll go see her.”

He walked out and the doctor came in. He gave me a funny look like I was an alien but he didn't say anything about it. He gave me some pain pills and held up the bottle of alcohol. “Can you smell this?”

“Nope.”

“You better stay awake for the next few hours. You can walk around a little if you want but don't go up on the flight deck and don't go too far or you'll get lost. Be back here in two hours and we'll check you out again.”

“Aye, Aye your majesty.”

“Sir, not majesty.”

“Aye, Aye your sir.”

“Get out.”

I stuck my head out the doorway of the infirmary and thought it might be a good idea to get some fresh air. I wasn't supposed to go on the flight deck but maybe there was someplace else where I could get to the outside. I looked left and right. All I could see were passageways both ways. I went right. Every so often I had to step over a doorway. I bumped my shins a couple of times before I figured out how high to lift my back foot to get it over the flange at the bottom of the door.

I was looking down each branching passageway searching for an indication that it might lead out to a deck. Not seeing any I decided to go up a few flights to get closer to the top. I went up three ladders and started walking down another passageway. This place is a labyrinth. A couple of officers going the other way gave me curious looks but didn't say anything. As I was walking down a short side passageway toward what looked like sunlight I heard some noise. Someone was talking loudly in a compartment on the right side. I went up to the door and stuck my head around the corner and looked in.

Sitting on a short stool in a dimly lit compartment, talking into a microphone was a young man in white tee shirt and dungaree pants. Sitting beside him adjusting a control on a radio was another older man in the same uniform. The guy talking seemed to be talking to his wife because he was saying love and miss you and how are the kids. This was obviously not a military conversation unless it was some creative secret code. The guy with the controls saw me and motioned for me to come in and sit down on a stool behind them. I was curious about the radio so I did.

The compartment was very small and there was just enough room for the three of us. I squeezed in trying not to disturb anybody and sat down. I looked at the radio and it looked like a Collins Ham radio like one I'd seen at a Ham swap meet. There was a sign over it saying MARS with the call sign below it. I sat there listening to the guy talk to his wife and leaned back against one bulkhead with my shoulder against the adjoining bulkhead. The husband was saying to get the oil changed on the Falcon and have them check the brakes. I heard the wife ask him what he was doing when he got into port to which he gave what I thought was an unacceptably vague answer. It was very warm in the small compartment. The wife asked if he was being good. He said absolutely and he was sending some money he had saved. I closed my eyes and thought about my wife Rose Marie and I must have dozed off…

“… and says my name is Jim.”

I slowly opened my eyes and saw Shirley's face about a foot from mine. Wow! I was surprised how happy I was to see her. I was just glad to be back I guess. Hilda was sitting on the overstuffed chair looking at me with wide eyes. The room was just as it had been after what seemed like hours. For Hilda and Shirley my excursion had taken almost no time. My body didn't ache and I didn't have a headache. I felt my head and amazingly found no cut or stitches.

Shirley asked. “Did you go already? Are you back?”

“Yea and I talked to Jim.” I said.

Hilda got up from the overstuffed chair and sat down on the couch beside me. She was looking at me waiting for me to tell what happened. This was an important moment for her and I wanted to get it right.

I started out: “Even though I only knew him for a short time Jim was one of the finest men I have ever known. You should be very proud of him Hilda. He was a true hero and saved men's lives in combat in Vietnam.”

I told her the story of his mission in North Vietnam and what happened to him there. I told her how a man named Luke had recruited him for the job. I told her about our flight back to the ship from Da Nang and how we had talked. I told her about the crash on the flight deck and getting Jim out of the aircraft and sitting on the flight deck. I told her Jim knew he might die and that, if he did, to tell her that he was sorry to leave her and that he loved her and wanted her to go one with her life.

Hilda and Shirley both had tears in their eyes during the story. Shirley got a box of tissues, took some, and gave the box to Hilda. There was a lot of sniffing and nose blowing the whole time.

We talked for a long time. Hilda asked a lot of questions about Jim, how he talked, what he sounded like, his mannerisms. It had been a long time and she wanted to see if she remembered everything about him.

Shirley got up from the couch after a while and made a pot of green tea and put blueberry juice in it. She served it in tiny china cups on saucers and handed them to Hilda and me. I was struck by the way she did it. It was exactly the way Hilda did it down to the way she held the pot and strainer when she poured the water through. It seemed like it was a set ritual for them. I wonder where they got that?

I recounted my experience with Luke and the doctor, exploring the ship and the sailor talking on the MARS station while we sipped our tea.

“You don't have a cut on your head.” Shirley said.

“I know, I don't feel beat up like I did on the ship either but, you know, I can't taste or smell this tea.”

It was three weeks before I could smell and taste the green tea with blueberry juice again.