Chapter 9

Hello, it’s Marty again. To recap, an old friend and local area GP named Doc Huckabee built a Time Machine in his basement, using a golf cart. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous - but I have used it. I went back to the day my sister graduated from high school, under an assumed name of Danny Hilts, and kinda sorta ... fell in love with her.

Damn! I know – I’m going straight to hell. Brothers are not supposed to fuck their sisters – but it’s all for a higher purpose, isn’t it?

Here we are, going back in time, changing things that already happened, into those things that we wanted to happen. Does that mean that ‘The ends justify the means?’

If we removed both her William and my Jennifer, then our lovemaking is really ... all for the best! Maybe we should eventually find out what happened to William, but Davey now has a hot wife, Susan has had a wonderful life, with four grown children.

And I’m getting some real good sex from my younger sister!

David and I volunteered for cleanup duty at the sink. We shooed everyone else out of the kitchen, leaving us alone.

“So, Danny Hilts never really existed, did he?” Davey asked.

“You seem to believe very easily in this whole concept of Time Machines and Time Travel, Davey?” I said.

“Well, I wouldn’t understand the science necessarily, but the idea has such a romantic quality to it, I had hoped that it was possible,” Davey replied.

“Well, I have some rather amazing and disturbing information to pass on to you, but you gotta swear to not say a thing to anybody, especially anybody here right now, OK?”

“Cross my heart!” he said.

“OK, Linda and I are lovers,” I said.

Almost dropping a plate, Davey went, “Wow!”

I proceeded to tell him about all of the trips I took both alone and with Doc and Linda, and all he repeated was, ‘Wow!’

“I was originally gay, coming out in front of Mom and Dad? That’s amazing,” he said starting to dry the flatware.

“We still have a few things we need to accomplish, and a few we would like to just go back and observe,” I said.

“Such as?” Davey asked.

I replied, “We still need to remove Jennifer from the mix somehow, maybe go to Mom and Dad’s Wedding, see them meet each other for the first time. Maybe even go back and find out what had happened to Dad’s parents, who died sometime in 1940?”

“You seeing Dad hold you and sing to you sounds incredible, Marty – You’re really lucky,” he said.

“I haven’t gotten the guts to go into the future yet?” I lied.

We walked out into the living room, as the conversations all seemed to stop the moment we walked in. I gave my brother a high five as he walked over and sat by his wife and I found a spot next to Linda.

“What was that all about?” dad asked.

“We just took the time to bring each other current, Dad,” I said.

“Mom and Dad, something’s bothered me for a while, can I ask you a question?” I asked.

“Sure son, ask away?” Dad responded.

“Well, I was born in April of 1954, figuring I was conceived in early July of ‘53. You were married on August 18^th, 1953 – do you ... see my question?” I asked.

The room got nervously quiet for a moment as both Mom and Dad shifted nervously in their seats.

Davey looked at me then the folks, waiting for an answer. Susan also gave out a nervous giggle.

Dad grabbed Mom by the hand and leaned forward.

“Kids, Martin’s math is correct – Your mother was already pregnant with Martin when we got married. It wasn’t what was called a shotgun wedding - her father didn’t believe in guns.”

Susan let out a laugh, so did Linda. Mom just smiled.

“I’m sorry Dad, I wasn’t trying to...”

“It’s all right Martin, we actually had expected this conversation long ago, but there never seemed a perfect time to have the discussion,” Dad said.

I got up and went to Mom, sat by her, and held her close. She was being strong, but I felt her withering in my arms, as she started to cry.

“Mom, I’m so sorry I asked,” I said.

“It’s OK, dear – Nowadays, that sort of thing is much more common, but in 1953, it wasn’t. Your father’s parents died in the late ‘40s, but my parents were alive, and we had to lie to keep them from going - what’s the word - ballistic!”

“So, we rescheduled our wedding from October to August, and we always said to everyone that you were premature. You were likely conceived on the Fourth of July 1953 – when we were living in a small apartment in North Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. Your father got a wonderful job in Milwaukee and we moved there, getting married and having you the following April. We moved again to this house around the time you were three. Then of course, in 1956 I was pregnant with your sister, and in 1961 David came along,” mom said getting herself back to where she was when I first asked.

“When exactly did Grandpa and Grandma McTavish die?” Davey asked.

“George Senior and his wife Sarah, died in 1944, I think it was January or February. Your father was raised by his Aunt Lucille, who was only 22 at the time,” mom said. “And is still alive in a nursing home, back in Chicago.”

“That means that she’s turning 96 this year,” dad added.

“Interesting stuff; Doc Huckabee has gotten me interested in Genealogy; so, Mom, do you remember when your parents died – I don’t, sorry?” I said.

“That was 1960 for my dad, Jeffrey Smithson, and my mother died five years ago, on Valentine’s Day. Her maiden name was Martha Ann Rogers. I have a book around here somewhere with a lot of detail around my family’s Genealogy. Next time you come over, I’ll have it for you – but I will want it back!”

“Well, thanks for all of that, I need to get Linda home, I need to do my daily cleanup after myself, so I don’t get in trouble when Jennifer gets home in a week. Thanks again, Mom for feeding me my favorite dinner ever! David, I’ll be in contact with you about what we talked about in the kitchen, OK?”

“Yep, bye Marty, bye Linda – Don’t have too much fun without us,” David said giving me a wink.

At the door, I turned to everyone and said, “I am sorry for not letting you all know about Danny sooner, I was getting ready for my physical and I had a ‘senior moment!’”

Everyone chuckled at that as Mom said, “There are leftovers, lots and lots of leftovers. I never got used to cooking for only two people.”

We waved and left.

As we went to the car, Linda turned to me and said, “What exactly did you tell David?”

“Everything, including all about us,” I said.

“That could be dangerous, Marty?”

“He wants to see the Time Machine, Linda.”

“And you told him ... what?”

“Maybe, if he can keep the secret I just told him.”

“You might just be ... getting smarter? Where are we going next – your place, my place, or back in time?” she asked as I opened the car door for her.

“My place, to plan how we are going to keep me from meeting and marrying Jennifer, how’s that sound?” I said as I started the car.

Linda reached over to kiss me as I said, “Wait until we are not visible through the living room window!”

“Sorry, you just turn me on a lot, Marty!”

We got back and went into full research mode, finding and remembering details about everyone we got info on tonight. Linda, with all of her schooling, got in front of the computer and organized the data, using a genealogy program called Reunion. We added info on Jennifer as well.

My wife, was born Jennifer Allison Romano on August 17, 1954, in Providence Rhode Island, to Giovanni Romano and Adrianna Sabatini-Romano.

Jennifer had gone to the same high school I did, and USM, like many of us had. Exactly when I met her was not coming to me. I remembered that I was walking down the school corridor, when I first saw her, but when that was ... escaping me.

“Call her about it, Marty – You have been on a roll lately, go ahead?” Linda said.

“Yeah, I think I was not quite 17 yet, so it was 1971, during the school year, before April. She’s gonna kill me - asking about when we first met?”

“Did she keep a journal, or a diary, Marty?”

Aha!

I gave my sister a kiss on the forehead as I went to where I had never gone before - the back of my wife’s closet. That’s where she kept all of that stuff.

I carefully started sifting through the stuff, when my phone rang.

“Hey, it’s me, Jennifer – how are you doing, Marty?” she asked.

“Just came back from a last-minute family dinner, Aunt Susan was there, David and Julia, Linda and I, and the folks. Chicken and Noodles, my absolute favorite dinner was served. When you get back, maybe we can make some of that ourselves.”

“What, you want to cook – call the paper and check your temperature - you never cook?” she said.

“Anyway, I have been plumbing the depths of my brain to remember a detail from high school, a very silly little detail,” I said.

“OK! What is it? You know I remember everything and you have the memory of a glitchy laptop.”

“That’s one of your better put-downs, Jennifer – Can I use that?”

“Stop procrastinating, what detail from high school?”

“You won’t be mad?”

“Oh boy - what is it?”

“What day did we first meet?” I said swallowing my pride, but anxious to put my treasure hunt to rest.

“It was my first day at Benjamin Franklin High School, March 1st, 1971. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going and practically knocked me over. You helped me pick up my stuff and we became an instant couple. I immediately had a tennis jock for a boyfriend and you got lucky that same week with me, March 4^th at 6:30 pm in your own bed. We’ve been together ever since. Does that ring any bells, dummy?” she said.

“Oh yeah, I remember you now, short redhead, huge tits, nice ass?” I heard her laughing on the other end of the phone.

“You have always made me laugh, you big dummy?”

“Sorry, Jennifer – How do you remember minutia like that?”

“I’m not sure, but it helps me in this job immensely. Gotta go, talk to you tomorrow – love you!”

“Not as much as I love you, Joo-Joo,” I responded.

“Goodnight, Marty!”

I hung up.

As I was carefully putting stuff back, Linda walked into the room, “Who was that on the phone?”

“Jennifer - she called me, and I ended up getting the information I needed from her. I forgot when I met her - what a dumb-ass,” I said.

She got on her knees and gave me a kiss. We got up and went back to work doing additional reconnaissance.

“You get no more sex, until after the next thing we accomplish, OK?” Linda said.