Chapter 66: The Pros and Cons of Pre-Knowledge

January 11, 1986

Early January is often a depressing time of the year. This year, however, was drastically different. True, in many respects it was back to the same old grind, with twelve-hour workdays, and not seeing Inez nearly as much as I'd have liked. But there was a fundamental change in my state of mind; my view was toward the future, and everything in the present was nothing more than passing time. It was a time for dreaming, for imagining the possibilities and challenges of building a life with my love, almost from the ground up.

That's not to say there weren't bumps in the road. A couple of them popped up right off the bat. Don't get me wrong; they were dealt with, and if not entirely eliminated, at least reduced to "manageable" status. They served to remind me that nothing in life could be taken for granted – even when you could see the future.

It was Saturday afternoon, and I met up with Inez at the home of her aunt and uncle. When we arrived, we found that the only one present was Rosie. I noticed right away that she seemed a little preoccupied. She fixed us a late lunch, and when we sat down to eat, Rosie began to talk in a low voice. She spoke mostly in Spanish, and I was familiar enough with the language at this point to get the gist of her tale. Raul had gotten wind of the fact that Inez and I had plans to move in together before getting married. And he was none too thrilled about it.

I glanced over at Inez; she appeared mortified. One part of me wanted to say something like, "Here we go again." But the more rational, more mature part of me elected to keep calm. "I guess we should have seen this coming," I said to my sweetie. "Even my parents questioned that decision a little."

Rosie, naturally, wanted to know what my parents' reaction was.

"They looked at each other, and at first, I could tell they didn't approve. Remember, they're Catholics who go to church every Sunday. Then, my dad said to us, 'We don't necessarily agree with it, but you're both adults, and it's your life.' That's it. Beyond that, they didn't say too much."

"I wish Tio Raul was as open-minded as my parents," said Inez ruefully.

I nodded in agreement. "Do you think your dad could talk to your uncle? He sure brought that situation in Puerto Rico under control."

"He did," Inez agreed, "but he has a lot more clout with his brothers than with his brother-in-law. I can't think of anyone who might be able to talk some sense into Tio Raul."

All through this conversation, Rosie was nodding in full agreement. Although she dearly loved her husband, she was well aware of his idiosyncrasies. Still, she offered up a mild defense on his behalf. "Even though he doesn't approve of you living together," she explained, "I think he still feels bad about what happened with Victor, and in a way, he understands why you are doing it."

We let that sink in for a moment. Then, I spoke up.

"So," I declared, "that means I'll have to step up to the plate."

"You're going to talk to Tio Raul?" said Inez in mild disbelief.

"Remember, I've talked with him before about touchy matters, and it went well. I think he respects me. Let me give it a shot."

It wouldn't happen that day, however. Raul had gotten called into the hospital, and Inez and I couldn't hang around to wait for him. On the way back to her place, Inez mentioned something to me.

"We have a saying," she grinned. "When you marry a Latina, you marry the entire family."

"How much does that hold true here?" I said, counteracting her grin with one of my own. One of those questions in life that you both want to know and don't want to.

"A little," she conceded, "but not entirely. I love my family, and my extended family, but I want for you and me to have our own life. I want to move ahead with our plans, regardless of what Tio Raul thinks about us living together before marriage."

She's come a long way, I thought with satisfaction. She never would have said something like that a few months ago. Regardless of how this plays out, remember: Big Picture.

January 15, 1986

I had my onerous work schedule, and Raul was a very busy man. I wasn't able to catch up with him for a much-needed one-on-one until tonight. Inez's classes had resumed this week, and this Wednesday evening, she needed to study with Jason and Valerie. Thus, I headed solo over to the Andrade house. Before leaving, I touched base with Rosie, who informed me that her husband was home, and had plans to remain settled in for the evening.

Rosie answered the door, looking quite ill at ease. I smiled at her in a soothing manner, which belied the fact that I was waging a war within myself to keep from trembling.

"He's in his office," said Rosie rather quietly. "Let me tell him you're here." I heard her open the door to the office and say a few words to Raul. Then, she motioned me over with a slight wave of her hand.

"Hello, Raul," I said as I stepped into the office. Strangely enough, at that point my nervousness began to wane.

"Have a seat, Pat," said Raul in a serious, businesslike manner. "What brings you over tonight?" He then regarded me with That Look – the ambiguous, unreadable expression that, whether he intended it or not, caused many to cower before him.

I didn't want to give him an inkling that Rosie had tipped us off, but nonetheless, I got right to the point. "I just wanted to talk to you about the plans that your niece and I have in place during the time leading up to our wedding," I put forth. I opted not to say any more; I put the ball in his court.

"I've heard," he began, his voice lower than I'd ever heard it, "that you have plans to purchase a home, and to move into it before you're actually married." His inflection was one minute step away from a scowl.

"That's correct," I said evenly, taking pains to ensure I maintained a tone of respect. "We've already started looking around a little, and we'd like to be in our own place by the time spring rolls around." Again, I said no more; I wanted to see if he would lay all of his cards on the table.

He replied by sharing a story. "I grew up in a much different world, Pat. When I was courting Rosie – and I was just about the age that you are now – I had to clear everything I did with her parents. Everything. Even with both of us in our early twenties. If I wanted to take her out to the movies, or out for some ice cream, I had to ask her elders. That was the way things were, and no one questioned it. Now, I'm an old-fashioned man, Pat; I admit it. We talked about that not too long ago. I also agree that the world has changed since I was a young man. But at the same time, I have to say that I'm a vigorous defender of the old ways, and I always will be.

"Living together outside of wedlock," he went on, "just wasn't done by respectable folks. And in spite of the lesson I learned recently about being a slave to tradition, I still believe in the sanctity of marriage. Not just from a religious standpoint, but a moral and ethical one too."

"I can understand your point of view, Raul," I offered, finally beginning to state my case. "My parents expressed similar reservations, and I'll tell you the exact same thing I told them."

"Go on," he nodded.

I adopted the game face of someone with a half-century of life experience, something I very seldom resorted to these days. "I'm very hesitant to bring up the Victor experience, because it's over and done with, but I need to. It really drove home to Inez and me how much we need to have each other in close proximity. We have such busy schedules nowadays, and right now, we're separated somewhat by distance. As we both know, Victor was able to exploit that situation to an extent we never dreamed possible.

"And remember, a few months before that, Danny whacked me over the head and put me in the hospital for a while. That incident showed me how everything can change in an instant. Nothing in life can be taken for granted. All it takes is one swing of a baseball bat." Or one bolt of lightning, I thought. "I love your niece, Raul, and she loves me. We're engaged to be married. This isn't a case of two people shacking up without any plans for the future. In fact, I'd marry Inez right this minute if it was logistically feasible. Hey, we realize we could always elope for a quickie Justice of the Peace visit before we moved in together, in order to put the horse before the cart.

"But neither of us wants that. We want to have a wedding to remember, and to be able to share the occasion with our families, all three of them," I paused for a moment, as Raul actually gave a mild chuckle. "Which means the wedding, unless we blow off Inez's school schedule, can't happen until August. But at the same time, we need to be together. That's our aim here – two people in love, being together. Now, when you add in everything that's happened lately, there's certainly a practical aspect to it as well."

Raul took a deep breath, and spoke up. "Okay, Pat. You've certainly stated your case well. And I have to acknowledge one thing. Rosie and I never faced the kind of day-to-day pressures that the two of you have encountered. You and Inez are both adults, and you're going to do what you're going to do. In a nutshell, Pat, please don't ask for my approval with regard to you living together, for that's simply beyond me. Again, I grew up in a different world, and as the old saying goes, it's hard for a leopard to change his spots. What I can offer you, though, is a degree of understanding."

"That's fair enough," I told him. "I understand your views, Raul, I really do. That's why I wanted to have this little man-to-man discussion."

He, of course, didn't know it, but that half-century of life experience I possessed gave me more insight than he ever could have imagined.

January 22, 1986

"They postponed it," Inez said to Evie conversationally, as we entered her apartment. We'd dropped by for a visit, partly prompted by a major news event that was about to occur. It hadn't happened yet, but my knowledge of the future – plus the media build-up that preceded it – told us that it would, in a few short days.

"Just like in the other timeline," I noted. "And they'll postpone it a few more times, until the shuttle is cleared to launch. And then the unthinkable will happen."

"But maybe... " said Evie, her voice drifting off. She wanted to finish the thought, I could tell, but apparently thought better of it.

The event was, of course, the explosion and disintegration of the space shuttle Challenger shortly after its launch from Cape Canaveral, Florida. I didn't recall the exact date on which it had occurred, although I had an approximate idea. Certainly, the coverage afforded on television and by the newspapers was enough to tip me off that the time was at hand. It was one of a select group of notable historical events which had caused me to ask myself, "Could I prevent that from happening?" almost as soon as I'd arrived in this timeline.

I knew, of course, that the odds against prevention were prohibitively long. I believed with all my heart that any attempt to stop the disaster from happening would turn out to be hopelessly futile. I'd discussed this at length with Inez and Evie back in December, shortly before Inez and I left for Puerto Rico. At the time, I told them the whole awful story – at least what I could recall – and a long, animated discussion had been the result.

Inez agreed with me that trying to prevent the Challenger disaster from occurring was simply not worth the effort. Even with my pre-knowledge, the scope of the event was far beyond our ability to affect it. Evie, however, couldn't accept that.

"We know something that the rest of the world doesn't," she pointed out. "We have to at least make an effort! Even if it's the longest of long shots, don't we have an obligation to try?"

"Easier said than done, Ev," I said levelly. "Exactly what can we do? Write some kind of a letter to the head of NASA? None of us are engineers; we don't have the technical background to influence some of the most brilliant people on the planet. I don't remember all that much about the technical details, anyway."

"Tell me what you do remember," Evie persisted.

"The explosion was caused by an O-ring failure, which resulted in a release of gases. This compromised the integrity of the shuttle, and caused it to break up. NASA was aware of a potential problem with the O-ring, but didn't act on it. It was also an unusually cold morning. Although the weather was not mentioned as an issue beforehand, the cold was fingered as a likely culprit afterward." I paused, for there was a relevant matter I wanted to bring up. "Here's the thing, Ev. This shuttle explosion was – will be – a horrible tragedy, and will affect many people very deeply. But suppose an industrial accident happened in Podunk, Arkansas, with hardly any national media coverage, killing seven innocent people. Say I somehow knew it was going to happen. Wouldn't we have an equal obligation to try and prevent that? And if so, wouldn't we be obliged to act against every fatal accident we knew about? Aren't all human lives equal?" With those words, Inez nodded in agreement.

But Evie was stubborn; she always had an activist streak within her. "That's a good point, but consider this. Extensive media coverage means a lot of people will witness it happening, right? And what about this teacher who'll be on board? Didn't you say that many schools around the country will be tuned in to the launch? It's horrible to think of the children that will have to watch that happen."

I rubbed my forehead thoughtfully. Yes, there was the whole "first teacher in space" thing to consider. "Okay, let's forget for a minute that there isn't a snowball's chance in hell that a letter is gonna cause them to scrub the launch. The problem remains ... how can we convince a bunch of world-class scientists and engineers –"

"Mention the cold weather aspect," interrupted Evie. "They didn't talk about that ahead of time, right? Pretend you're a civil engineer, and express concern about the effect that cold weather might have on certain parts of the shuttle. I agree, there's almost no chance it will work. But again, I think we at least have to try."

I looked at Inez, who shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, let me give it a shot," I sighed, caving in to Evie's pressure, and more than anything else, humoring her.

I addressed the letter to the NASA administrator; I located the mailing address easily enough at the library. I took pains to ensure the letter could not be traced back to me. I considered handling the letter with latex gloves, to keep my fingerprints off of it. After giving it some thought, I decided to forget about the gloves. This letter was more than likely to find its way into the trash can, opened or unopened. And if by chance someone important actually read it, there was nothing contained within that would induce the feds to go looking for the letter writer.

Still, I did take some precautions. I managed to get out of work early one Friday. Fighting through rush hour traffic, I made my way through the Lincoln Tunnel into Manhattan, where I dropped the letter into the first mailbox I spotted.

January 28, 1986

Of course, it didn't matter.

I knew upon waking up that morning that the shuttle explosion was fated to happen that day. It was a crystal clear, bitterly cold morning, just like the first time through. I had a nine o'clock group meeting at work. A memory was awakened; I realized I'd attended that same meeting right before the Challenger disaster in the other timeline.