Chapter 14

Everything changed again on July 20. I was moping around the house after my first appearance in court. The court case was slated for seven days later. I had even turned the television on. I was watching drivel on CBC but my mind was that way too. At eleven twenty a news report came in that cut into the show.

The announcer mentioned that a man hijacked an automobile with a gun in Windsor Ontario that morning. A still photo showed a good-looking young woman that the reporter said was twenty-one. A child of just a few months past her third birthday was shown next. A similar automobile was shown and even the licence plate number was made to look like the actual plate. Lastly, he said that more news would be available at noon.

I sat back stunned. I knew that face. Gathering all my thoughts I tried to put them into perspective. I left the Air Force in early 1969 and soon married Betty, my first wife. In the summer of 69 we had little money and spent our honeymoon in cottage country where I hoped to camp in our tent and save a few bucks while showing our love for each other.

Vockner was a village with a population of 130. It was 120 miles south of North Bay and just off Highway eleven. This is the main highway leading to Toronto from North Bay. The town is three miles off the main highway and close to the Chuutney River and Lake Kanocha. The land was rough and very beautiful. Farms are poor because of the many hills, lakes, and rivers all clustered together.

The locals have little to encourage tourists other than the ruggedly beautiful land. A small museum was made and situated far up an Ontario Hydro road. The place was devoted to a major crime that had come to this small community. Betty just had to see it.

A double kidnap had occurred in Windsor at ten in the morning. It happened in front of witnesses who suddenly happened to appear on the scene. The kidnapper wouldn't have done what he did until it was safe.

The carjacking and double kidnap involved the small northern community because the kidnapper brought the child and woman back to his home. The kidnapper tried to destroy the car and it was found by a game warden chasing some poachers a few weeks later.

The police from all over flooded the area. The kidnapper's home was almost twenty miles away but still one of the only homes around. When some townspeople got close there were shots fired and the kidnapper was killed. Inside the home was the body of the little girl and a day later some police dogs found the decomposing body of the woman that had been hired to watch the child.

In 1969 I was not interested in an eleven-year-old crime but I had to stay until Betty got her fill. I looked at all the pictures and saw that the museum was actually the kidnapper's home. In a corner was a small plaque telling all that read it that the child's body was found here.

I found the morbid curiosity distasteful but Betty didn't. She even dragged me back again just before we left. A year later I found that Betty was too much like what Susan had been like and we parted company.

When I had come back to this time three months ago I had changed time just a bit. The kidnapping would not have been effected and would still take place. That meant that two people would die if I could not remember right, and unless I could do something about it.

Going to the police, even if they were neutral would get me nothing until the bodies were found, then I would get an awful amount of questioning as to how I knew.

Telling an adult would not do much either. There was nobody I knew that would take my word for this and help. Trying to lie and say I saw this in a dream would not help for the same reason. Nobody would follow until the news of the bodies being found had arrived.

It appeared that I was the only person who could do anything about the situation. I knew I could call any of the girls to help but quickly nixed the idea. They would be of no real help and after some thinking I realised that I would be taking them into danger.

I could not let two people just die though. After paying my lawyer and the private detective, I had no money. Even though I had been exercising, my strength had not returned completely. Even if it had, I was still a puny twelve-year-old. All I had on my side was knowledge of the event and perhaps surprise.

Hurrying to the telephone I dialled the bus terminal. The next bus heading south was leaving at 1240. I could get off anywhere along the line. It was ten minutes until noon when I dropped the handset back into it's cradle. I hurried down to the basement to get the old military surplus backpack my father had given me. There were some aluminum pots in the pack, relics from happier times spent camping with my father. We didn't have any guns in the house, my mother had to sell my father's hunting rifle to make ends meet. I would have to confront the kidnapper or find a way to free the two girls alone and unarmed. The features of the land in my memory came back to me. The only road near the cabin was the rutted tracks that lead to it. There were no other roads close by and I was sure we would be pursued just to keep us from talking.

This meant that I had to feed three people, run from the kidnapper and make it back to civilisation. This could take a considerable amount of time. Food and shelter were important. We had been having a long series of cold rains. Even moderate exposure to those conditions could lead to hypothermia if it kept up.

I had most of the packing done by the time the noon television news came on. I saw from the time and location of the crime that the kidnapper would not have arrived in Vockner yet. There were no super highways in Ontario in 1958 and the kidnapper would not speed because of the chance to get pulled over. This meant that I would have at least four more hours before the kidnapper could possibly arrive at his lair.

Picking out a sheet of paper, I jotted down that I was going to Vockner for a solo camping trip to clear my mind. It would not be in character but it was possible. I would be back in time for my court case. A PS said that I loved everybody more than I could say and would be back on time.

I got on my bike and threw the pack into the carrier. The pack was heavy and I could still not carry that much weight very well. At least I was now dressed for hiking. I went to the carwash and pulled Susan aside. Lots of the girls wanted to talk and give me some encouragement but I had to hurry.

"What are you doing here Jeff?"

I held her hands in mine and looked into her eyes. "I had a very odd feeling just a while ago. I need to do something and for you to forget about what I am telling you now. Please give me all the cash you can spare. I have to do something and I will be back just before the court case."

"What feeling Jeff? You're scaring me."

"This is scaring me too. Please give me the money and forget about the feeling. I just came here and got the money. Don't tell anybody else, even Jane and Maggie. It can get me into a great deal of trouble if it's mentioned. Promise me."

"Ok Jeff. You are not running away are you?"

"No. I need to hurry to the bus station. Here's the key. Please come and get the bike. My exact time coming home is up in the air but I will try my best to get here. Talk to Mason and see if he can delay the trial if it becomes necessary."

She game me thirty-one dollars and sixteen cents and I gave her the key and a kiss.

The bus was preparing to leave when I handed my ticket to the driver. I had a new road map and kept my pack with me.

The bus stopped many times to drop off passengers or to pick them up. This was not an express bus and went through all the towns on the way to pick up passengers.

My mind worked back forty years dredging up all I knew of Vockner and the area around it. I was not sure of the roads but fairly sure certain things had not changed much from now to 1969 when I had been there. My mind was getting adept at leaping back forty years to a time ten years in my present incarnation's future. All this was sifting through my brain when a deliciously ironic idea came to me. My next movie script would be my own version of, "Back To The Future"

Shaking my head to clear it, I focussed on different scenarios of how to deal with a man that would kidnap and kill a young woman and very young girl. I had time to think more on my plan as the bus chugged south in fits and starts. My only hope was to get the girls to flee with me because I would not be able to overcome the man the way I did Goldbalm. The kidnapper would be armed and very nervous. I could not get close with him lulled into relaxing his guard even if I was small. Hell if the guy raped and killed the two women he may do the same to me too.

The bus was very slow, with a changing cast of characters. I tried to take a short nap but the din of loud conversations kept me awake. At three thirty five the bus stopped where I asked. A heavy woman was trying to get off with a little boy of her own. I put my bag on the crushed stone beside the road and tried to help the pair.

The bus roared away and left us in a cloud of acrid diesel smoke. The woman said, "You new to these parts?"

"I came through here with my family a year of so ago. I got permission for a camping trip on my own and thought of starting in Vockner then go north to Bracebridge."

"Quite a hike for a young boy with a big pack. Bracebridge is not close either."

"I figure I can do it in ten days."

A car came up the intersecting road in a cloud of dust. The rains had stopped and the bright sun dried the road quickly.

The woman said, "You said you are starting in Vockner?"

"Yes ma'am."

"We can give you a ride there so you can start fresh. It is only a few minutes by car."

"Thank you ma'am. That is very nice of you."

The husband packed his family and didn't say anything to me, and very little to his wife; it was as if he were angry at one and all.

The husband stopped in the middle of the town. There were only a few businesses. A small store, service station, and a hotel that probably saw its main business function as serving beer. They were the only businesses.

When I got out, I said, "Thank you very much for the ride. I might extend my trip if I could find a good bike. Do any of you know where I can find a used one?"

They didn't but at least I got a smile from the woman. When she left I scanned the road looking at the cars trying to remember the one that brought the kidnapper and his victims here fifty years ago.

I struggled to get the pack on my shoulders. It wasn't a very good backpack. In later years they would have external and internal frames with a wide belt at the waist with a quick release. Now all the weight was on my shoulders and not distributed between shoulders and my hips.

Walking to the store was not that bad but opening the heavy door was much harder. I asked about a bike but they couldn't help me. I got some matches already sealed in wax and some mosquito repellent along with some bread, salami and hard cheese. I had not eaten since breakfast but strangely I was not hungry yet. My stomach was roiling, acidic though and it was only from fear and worry. A large local map was in a display by the door. I picked up a copy and trudged back to the counter.

With a heavier pack I walked across the road to the service station. A man was sitting outside in a wood chair tipped back on its back legs.

When I got close the man said, "What'ya want?"

"I'm looking for a used bike so I can go further."

"How much ya' got to pay for one?"

A new bike cost $25 and a used one would be a lot less. Five dollars seemed enough. "I got five dollars."

The man got up after looking up the road towards the highway then hurried into the open bay. There were batteries, an engine and various other car parts pushed against a piece of canvas. The man pulled enough junk off to free the canvas and removed the heavy cloth with a flourish. Underneath, was a bike similar to the one I owned.

"This one here is worth $25."

The bike was old. The front tire was flat and the seat was ripped. A name was painted on the bike frame with the last name matching the name of the service station.

"The bike was $25 when it was new. It is not even worth $5 now."

"Look kid. I am in a good mood today. I will give it to you for ten."

"The tire's flat. The seat is ripped. I can see that the tires are all checked with age. I'll give you six and you fix anything that is wrong with it."

"Ten and you take it as it is."

"Why would I take a bike that has a flat tire? I may as well carry it along with my pack."

"Ten and I fix the tire."

"Six, you fix the tire and we see how much more is wrong with it."

The man looked at me angrily then to the road and hurried off. The wheel then the tire was taken off. The leak was found but I noticed six other patches on the tube. The man expertly put on the patch but I had him check again. One more small leak was found.

When the unit was reassembled I took the pack off outside and drove the bike in a large circle and tested the brakes. The back fender had a broken strut going to the wheel hub and the front wheel was out of true and to one side. Basically this was a wreck.

I took the wrench used to put on the tire and adjusted the front wheel. "I need a steel rod and some wire to make a splint."

"What do I look like, a store?"

I did look at his face and it looked vaguely familiar. It took a moment then I remembered. He was the man that killed the kidnapper.

"The bike is yours still. You fix it then."

The man went off and found some scrap steel and with some bailing wire attached it to the broken strut. "There you go. Ten dollars."

"I'll take it for six and that is being generous. Somebody else around here has to have a bike for sale at a reasonable price that is not a death trap."

"Ha, either you buy this or I tell everyone around here to not sell to you. You insulted me. We stick together here. One word from me and I can even get you kicked out of town."

"I don't care who your friends are. The bike is falling apart and probably won't get me ten miles down the road."

A car raced by the station and the man ran to see whom it was. So did I but I was looking for the hijacked car.

"What are you looking at kid?"

"The same thing you were. A car goes by and you race to see it then it may be important."

The man just glowered at me. The man walked back and into the garage. I just stopped at my pack. The man turned to me. "Don't you want the bike?"

"Only for six bucks."

"Eight?"

"Seven and you throw in the tarp it was wrapped in."

The man looked furious but stuck out his hand, not to shake but for the money.

I paid the man, then tried to stuff the canvas in the carrier. The bike had to go against the telephone pole to hold it up as I struggled to get the pack into the carrier. The man was back to watching cars and appeared to ignore me. I saw his anger still on his face.

North seemed to be the direction to go. I got out of town on the stone road leading north and south. I pulled the bike over and leaned it against a fence and took out the map. The one seventeen-mile long road was obvious. With the town just behind me it was easy to see which way to go.

The turn off was three miles ahead and I hurried on my way. Just before the turn off I heard a car behind me and pulled over to the side. A blue car raced by and slowed for the turn.

The man inside was familiar too. The make and model was right even down to the year. It was the light blue paint on the bumper that told me this was the car. The guy had spray painted it to change the colour. The licence plate was different though the last two numbers were right.

The kidnapper had just gone by but I didn't see the two victims. The man raced up the road now. He was probably not worried about cops here. I waited just a minute then I went after him. I needn't have worried about him spotting me because he was soon out of sight.

The road looked straight on the map and in a car but on a bike it went up and down hill a lot. The stone surface was like a washboard that seemed to shake me on a bike as much as I remembered in a car. Other things I remembered, a river crossed the road just after the turn off. Odd rock formations may be forgettable but not to me. The fear, the worry and the work made me remember Betty sitting in the car on our honeymoon. Though we were in love, I remember the nagging now and I realised anew why I had married her. She was very similar to Susan.