Chapter 9

The following characters appear in the next few chapters:

Aengus Patrick Sean Michael O’Brien

“himself”, half owner of the Pub, 5’-10” tall, 86 years old, stoop shouldered, silver gray hair, watery blue eyes

Patrick O’Brien

Aengus’s youngest son, 5’-10” tall, thin, 52 years old dark blond hair, blue eyes

Michael O’Brien

Aengus’s grandson, Patrick’s son, 5’-9” tall, thin, 24 years old, brown hair, blue eyes

Monday morning dawned bright and sunny. We were up shortly after 6:00, having had an excellent night’s sleep, and the sisters were in a much better mood today. It was the beginning of a very busy week for us.

MONDAY: I used the MT-2 Two-Bottom plow to plow under the cover crops in all of the fields.

TUESDAY: there was grocery shopping and we stopped at the farm supply store so the sisters could pick up the various seeds they felt they needed for this year’s planting. I checked the tractor and readied the accessory equipment we would be using.

WEDNESDAY: I used the KBL disk Harrow to go over the fields to ready them for planting. The sisters spent the day in the den going over their finances in light of the increased cost of everything. I read more of the ‘Book of Dreams’ that evening. It seemed the more I read, the more there was to read, although the book never seemed to get any thicker, and it always opened to the last page I had been reading.

THURSDAY: sunny again and warmer. I was glad to be getting back to school after the last hectic week. That is, I was until I actually got there, and the harassment started. It was obvious that Justin had told everyone, or at least all of the guys, about my working for the two sisters. Justin looked me up before my first class.

“Man, why didn’t you tell me about working for those two cute chicks. That’s prime pussy,” he insisted.

“That ‘prime pussy’, as you called it, is 16-years-old, and will get you thrown in jail,” I told him, very seriously. “They are very proper girls. They still wear petticoats under their dresses.”

“Petticoats!! You have to be kidding!” Justin said.

“No, I’m not. Dinner, even in the dinette off the kitchen, requires a coat and tie. They have a private chapel, and the minister comes out there every Sunday for their private service for which they require that you be properly dressed. That means a suit and tie, and they wear long dresses with their petticoats,” I informed him and the others who were listening.

“Man, that is like just so not now. It’s ... it’s so Old Fashioned! How can you stand it? Have you gotten anywhere with them?” Justin wanted to know.

“Well, we always wore a suit to church at home, so I don’t mind that, and I have gotten to kiss each sister on the cheek a couple of times,” I told them.

“Man, you’re as bad as they are. Look at you in those slacks and a jacket. You’re as Old Fashioned as they are. You were made for each other,” Justin said in disgust with a shake of his head, before he left for his first class. The others, who had been listening, also left. I’m sure they all believed I was nuts. I wasn’t worried about it or them, as my trail was now covered.

Between my second and third class of the day I was approached by a couple of female students from my classes.

“Mark, do you know anything about traveling overseas?” the first one asked.

“Not really. Are you thinking about traveling overseas?” I asked.

“Yes, we were thinking of going to Italy - Rome actually, but have never been out of the country. We thought you might know something because you dress nice, like someone who has traveled,” the second one said.

“I do know that you need a passport, but am not sure how you get one. There may be other things needed also, besides a ticket,” I told them. “I’ll need to find out, as I may be going overseas this summer.”

“Oh, where are you going?” they both asked, excitedly.

“I’ve been invited to go to Ireland by the people that I’m working for. I would be going with them.”

“Oh, we never thought of Ireland. Why are you going there?”

“My employers are Irish and have been there previously. They’re going back on vacation,” I told them.

“Oh, that’s neat. Let us know if you like find out anything,” the second girl asked, before they hurried off for their next class.

After my last class of the day, I went to see my history professor / adviser.

“Hello, Mark,” he said, as I entered his office after knocking. “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could give me some advice on traveling to Ireland. Where do I get a passport, and what else do I need, besides a ticket? I asked.

“Are you thinking of going to Ireland?” he asked.

“I’ve been invited by my employers to go with them this summer, but I’m not sure what all is involved.”

“Your employers? Would that be those two girls I heard about?” the professor asked with a grin.

“Their parents, actually. They’re all going this summer and invited me to go with them.”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t be going alone?”

“No, they’ve been there previously and know some people there.”

“That’s very good. It’s always difficult to go to a strange country when you don’t know anyone. You’ll need a passport and possibly proof of immunization, but I’m not sure about that for Ireland. Just Google ‘Passport’ and there are plenty of places that will help you get a passport and will know what else is required. Are your employers getting the tickets?”

“Yes, they’re handling the tickets.”

“It should be an interesting trip. There’s a lot of history in Ireland. Unfortunately, much of it is very bloody. I hope you have a good trip,” my professor told me.

After reaching the house and having lunch, we went to get fertilizer. On returning home I went out to check on the tractor and clean it up some. I had worked it pretty hard this week and wanted to be sure everything was all right. I added some motor oil to the engine and cleaned the filter for the air breather. The battery needed a touch of water in a couple of cells, and I added a little hydraulic fluid after checking all of the connections for tightness. I left cleaning the plow and disk harrow until tomorrow.

During dinner, I brought up the subject of the trip to Ireland.

“I’ll need to get a passport, if we are going to Ireland,” I told the sisters.

“We have passports,” Margie said.

“We have old passports,” Katie corrected her. “They would never believe that we look the same after so many years.”

“How long has it been?” I asked, curious.

“We haven’t been overseas since the early ‘50s. Shortly after the the Second World War,” Margie told me.

“Yes, your passports would definitely have expired,” I assured them. “We will all need to get new passports. My professor said that if we Google ‘Passport’ that there was plenty of information there.”

“OK, let’s do that tonight,” Katie told me.

After doing the dishes, the sisters led me to what had formerly been the ladies’ sewing room. There was still a sewing machine there and several chests containing material, patterns and other sewing paraphernalia. This was also where the sisters had their computer set up.

Their computer was several years old but did use Vista and their printer had ink and paper. After Googleing ‘Passport’, we were faced with sorting out all of the various claims on the sites represented there. I went to the government site and was able to print out the instructions and forms required.

There were a number of requirements: birth certificates, pictures, and IDs. The last was money. The sisters were shocked at the size of the fees required.

“They used to be only twenty-five dollars,” Margie said in shock.

“That’s not the worst part,” Katie told her sister. “They aren’t going to accept any birth certificate that we have. Being sixteen, we should have been born in September of 1994. How are we going to get around that?”

“That’s not the only thing you need to worry about,” I told them. “Did you look at the special requirement for those 16 or 17?” I asked.

“No, we didn’t see them,” Margie said.

“In addition to the birth certificate, you need other photo Identification and parental consent,” I told them.

“Oh, dear,” Katie breathed. “How will we get that?”

“What about your lawyer?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Margie said, doubtfully.

“If you were eighteen, you wouldn’t need parental consent,” I said. “But you will still need social security numbers.”

“How will we ever get all of that?” Margie asked in despair.

“We’ll have to create them,” I told the sisters, who looked at me like I had two heads - maybe I did.

“We’ll go down to the department of records at city hall first. That should be where the birth certificates or records of births are kept. While you distract the clerks there, I’ll see about adding you to the records there. What date were you born on?”

“We were born at 3:15 and 3:22 PM on September 20th,” Katie told me. “It’s written in our family Bible.”

“All right. That’s what I’ll insert into the records, but I’ll make the year 1992. That way you’ll be eighteen, and considered adults,” I told them.

“But how?” both sisters asked.

“Magic!” I replied. “They will never know the difference,” I assured them.

A quick computer check on Google of ‘Georgia Birth Certificates’ soon revealed that this approach wouldn’t work. The records are maintained by the Department of Community Health at the Office of Vital Records in Atlanta. The records are on computers there. This would require breaking into their computer, which we didn’t know how to do, and still wouldn’t provide a Social Security number. That would require breaking into a U.S. government computer -an even worse problem.

“This is impossible,” Katie said after a time. “We don’t know how to do any of these things.”

“Let’s think on it for a while,” I suggested. “There has to be a simpler way. Let me see what I can find out.”

“All right,” both sisters agreed, somewhat dejected. I called my mother after that to have her send me my birth certificate. She gave me a vital piece of information when she told me that the birth certificates were created at the hospital after the children are born and at the same time the children’s social security numbers were applied for. That got me to thinking.

FRIDAY: “I have an idea,” I told the sisters that morning at breakfast. “Let me work on it for a day or so, and see what comes of it.”

“All right, Mark. We don’t know what else to do. Things were never this complicated in the past,” Katie told me, somewhat despondently. After classes that day, I went over to the East Georgia Regional Medical Center to do a little research. It’s located only a short distance from the university. That night I explained to the sisters what my idea was and got the necessary information from them to carry it out. The sisters had started hand seeding a portion of the fields today and I hooked up and adjusted the planting and fertilizing attachment to the tractor.

SATURDAY and SUNDAY after church, we continued with seeding and fertilizing. The women seeding by hand in certain areas, and me with the tractor in others. By late Sunday, we were finished for the time being.

Each night that week, I had sex with one of the sisters. It was Katie on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Margie had Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. We did whatever the sister wanted that night, but mostly just straight sex after some fooling around with a little massaging and licking. Both sisters slept with me every night all week, however on Sunday the 27th of March, we took a break from sex.

The ultimate solution to our problem was simplicity itself. It involved no breaking in to computers, or anything so complicated. The solution was to let the system do all of the work for us. After classes on Monday, I again went over to the East Georgia Regional Medical Center. I found a comfortable seat near the administrative area where records and birth certificates were created and sat down. I made it look like I was completing some paperwork, but was doing much more.

Even with magic, people CAN NOT go back in time. It just isn’t possible. But that doesn’t mean that things in the past can’t be influenced, and that was what I proceeded to do. Using a few spells from the ‘Book of Dreams’ I cast spells that went back to late on the afternoon of 20 September 1992 in the administrative office of the hospital. With the spells I located the proper forms on a desk there, then took control of a pen and some of the forms.