I'll See You In Your Dreams (13 page)

Colton mustered all his strength and powered forward toward Paul, dragging the two officers with him. Paul backed up and looked furtively around, seeking a place to run to. The deputy drew his gun and cracked Colton on the back of the head. As Colton was losing consciousness, he heard Anne’s scream.

All went dark.

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Paul led Anne to the parlor and sat her down on the settee. Paul took her hands in his and gazed lovingly into her eyes. “Anne, I’m so sorry for what you just witnessed. Even with my extensive training in psychiatry, I also find it difficult. I suppose we can learn from it together.” Anne seemed in a daze of disbelief. She couldn’t speak.

“Anne, science tells us that when someone close to us is blamed for such a serious offense we often accuse the messenger or at least someone else than the loved one who did it. Poor Tillie, to be raped by such a close friend of her’s and her mother’s, is more than such a young mind can bear. It’s much easier to convince herself and others of another source for such a despicable crime. Transfer of blame.

“I am a professional, Anne. I will not take it personally. I will even help them by using all my resources to get them the help they need.” Paul lovingly patted Anne’s hand and continued.

“The sheriff is on his way to arrest Sam, but I realize he is sick. I’m currently working to have him transferred to a mental hospital where I’ll personally see to it that he gets the help he needs.” Anne seemed to refocus onto Paul’s face.

“Did you rape Tillie?” she asked with determination.

“Anne, Anne, please, of course not, but it is perfectly natural to grasp for a perpetrator. Studies have shown that hysteria is prevalent among women facing crisis situations. To strike out at a loved one is a common symptom.”

“Did you rape Tillie?” Anne repeated.

“Anne, listen to me, I have some cocaine at my house. Please come to my house, and I’ll share my personal stash. I promise this delusion will pass.”

“Paul, I would like you to leave. I feel a headache coming on.”

“Anne, my darling, that’s a symptom of a delusional crisis coming on. Let me help you.”

“Please show your
self out. I must get some sleep.” She strode out of the parlor and up the stairs to her room.

Paul got in his carriage and headed home to share the good news with Ludwig. Their skillful plan was working well. What fools people were, he thought. He suddenly laughed at the irony of those who prided themselves on silly things like “honor” and other do-gooder ideas losers lied to themselves about. Paul hated the “good” just like he hated the religious. He went to church every Sunday, of course, for propriety, and to study such fools. It was the ability to mimic such foolishness that gave him power.

Tomorrow would be part B of plan A. He would have Tillie removed from Bessie to a mental institution, for her own good of course. He relished the idea of looking in her eyes at the institution where he was king, and saying slowly, I told you so, my little Tillie. He broke into uproarious laughter.  Life was good.

Ludwig slapped his knee in laughter at Paul’s telling of the days events. “You should have seen the look on Colton’s face when I smiled at him behind Anne’s back. He was a scared puppy. He tried to run, and a deputy had to hit him on the head with his gun or he may have got away.”

They mutually sighed in satisfaction.

“So tomorrow we do the old set up a foundation thing. We wring our hands in sympathy for the poor sick Sam, Colton, and Tillie predicament. The best hand wringer wins!”

They both died laughing. Paul continued. “With the foundation in place, we can get a lot of press in our philanthropic effects to help with Sam’s, Colton’s, and Tillie’s mental illnesses. We need an acronym just for their cause.”

Paul stood and paced as he touched his curled first finger to the bridge of his nose.

Ludwig spread his hands and said, “I got it, SCAT for Sam, Colton, and Tillie. It’s perfect. It is a kid’s word, scat, and will play well with the public. Help us say SCAT to mental illness, etc. There’s a lot that can be done with it, to make the public love us and most important, to open their pocketbooks.”

“I love it. So, I appoint you the director of this new philanthropic organization. We’ll get kickbacks from the pharmaceutical companies, which is the most lucrative source of all. Hell, Bayer alone will owe us a tremendous debt of gratitude for making heroin a household word.

“Absolutely,” said Ludwig.

“If we do this right, this non-profit foundation will make us rich on kickbacks alone. This is the future. The free press alone  will most certainly establish us as hard-and-fast philanthropists, and the press will have to cover for us, or admit they’ve been scammed. Trust me on this, Ludwig, the press can’t admit it has ever been wrong without losing credibility.”

“Your cunning is remarkable,” said Ludwig

Paul walked over to the window and peered out.

“It’s a perfect cover for our future that we’re building.  Hell, one day we’ll buy the press and write history as we see fit.”  

“Sometimes, Paul, you make me shiver. Genius. It is no wonder Sigmund wanted little Eddie Bernays to spend time with you,” Ludwig said.

“Now there is a genius who makes me shiver. When a ten-year-old can make a vow with such intensity, it’s worth paying attention to his accomplishments. What was the vow he made to us that night?” asked Paul.

”Fools attempt to rule the world by taking land by force; I will conquer all by ruling their minds without a peep of protest. Something like that,” Ludwig said.

“It’s hard to believe he’s a kid,” mused Paul.

“Speaking of kids,” piped up Ludwig, “let me treat Tillie next time … for her own good.”

They chuckled.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Oh, my word, my big mouth. What time is it?” Anne said in a panic.

“If you were right when you asked earlier about it being 2:00 P.M., then it is about 5:00 P.M.” Colton replied.

“Oh my, I must get inside. Father will be home any moment, and I told mother I was going to help at our church and be back by five.”

Colton raised a finger. “Anne, just one moment. We won’t be able to sleep unless we know. Where is this moment in time? Is it before or after the Tillie, umm?”

“Before. Paul is planning to propose tomorrow night. My fiancé will be different this time!”

Sam looked at Colton and sighed.

“My god, what a story. My mind filled it all in as she spoke it. The Stanley part of me will be contemplating this for quite some time. The Sam part just wants to get Paul.”

“I know what you mean. The Charlie part just wants to be with Anne. The Colton part just wants to be with Anne and choke Paul to death!”

Sam thought for a moment.

“There’s something we must consider. It’s called a paradox. If we change anything, what will that change result in?”

“Huh,” replied Colton.

“Well, let’s say she says no to Paul, and you become her fiancé. How will that change the future? Remember, in a few days Paul will send Bessie to mail a letter. He will ask her to leave Tillie to help prepare for Anne’s visit. How will that change the outcome of all this? Does no Anne visit, mean no Tillie rape?”

“We don’t know the outcome yet, until she finishes the story of our last little visit to this parallel universe, whichever universe is the real universe.”

“Now, think about this, Colton. The other way it turned out, no matter how bad, ended up in us as Stanley and Charlie, which is not too bad. What if we change something, and we never know each other or maybe we end up in some other country?”

“Oh, my god, we could end up in one of those little jungle villages with all those flies and a preacher whining for someone in America to send us food,” Colton replied with his best sarcastic humor.

“I’m serious, Colton, if we change anything in the past, it will change the future and in an unpredictable manner.”

“So we have to decide if we’re going to risk Stanley and Charlie for Sam and Colton. That seems to be the decision that faces us,” Colton reasoned.

“Sometimes you are smarter than you look, Colton.”

“There’s one more thing before we decide, Sam.”

“What’s that, Colton?”

“What is the right thing to do for everyone involved, not just us?” For several minutes they were lost in contemplation,  until Sam spoke up with a calm determination.

“Well, I’ll have to answer as Sam. We’re going to make some changes!” Colton paused, and then answered with equal determination.

“Here’s to change!” They touched fists. Colton scratched his head. “Well, we could let things go as before and hide the sheriff, and of course, us, or some such, in the room as witnesses to stop the rape.” 

“That would be impossible, and of course, we’d be accused of setting him up,” Sam said.

“So, what’s your proposal?” asked Colton.

“All we have to do is stop the rape, which is easy. We can just warn Bessie and Tillie or any number of things. We will have to hear the rest of the story of what transpired last time to see the magnitude of evil we’re up against,” Sam said.

“It’s too bad we can’t just shoot him and the three of us head back to the future,” Colton replied.

“There may not be a way to get back once we change anything. So we must be able to stop Paul and still live as free men. And of course not die at the end of a hangman’s noose,” Sam added.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sam and Colton discussed their Arabian horse business and how best to expand it. During this discussion, they said if they were to be stuck in this era, they would most assuredly become rich on the hindsight, which would be foresight for them. All they had to do was invest in Ford Motor Company out of all the upstart car makers. Then airplanes, plastics, etc. Why, they most certainly would be wealthy beyond their dreams if they were stuck in this time and place.

At 9:00 P.M. there was a tapping at the door, and Colton opened it. It was Anne, who held a finger to her lips for silence. “My mother and father are in bed sleeping, so I sneaked out. I must tell you the rest of the story so we can prepare for what may happen when I refuse to become engaged to Paul tomorrow night.”

Anne sat on the bench with them and took a breath. She looked from Colton to Sam.

“Okay, here is the rest of the story as told to me by Merlin, who has seen all the mental pictures of all the players in this drama.”

Sam raised a finger, “Does Merlin know the outcome?”

“Oh, no, the future is created; the future is off limits to him.”

“But wait, Anne, you could say you, Colton, and I know the future. We can even know which businesses to invest in. How come Merlin doesn’t?”

“Sam, this story isn’t the future. It is the past. When we change it, it will cease to exist. Even our memory of it will vanish.”

“I was afraid of that. So, that means that, hmmm, that means that when this new past replaces the old one, we will lose all memory of the old one, including any memories of a future, damn. There go some good investments. Also, it’ll be Sam and Colton and no Charlie and Stanley.”

“Even Merlin can’t predict the future.”

“There’s something I read in physics, umm, there’s a sort of quirk of time that may apply here. I just can’t recall it,” Stanley mused.

“Well, I must get on with the story of our past as we haven’t much time,” Anne said.

“Of course,” Sam replied as Colton nodded in agreement.

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Paul met with Sheriff Willard at Angelo’s Café downtown. The sheriff was a family friend of Judge Hawthorne’s.

They both ordered coffee, and as the waitress slowly walked away to get it, Paul began. “Bill, I need your help with a serious problem.”

“I’m all ears, Paul. How can I help?”

“Well, Bill, this nasty business with Sam Novak raping the twelve-year-old girl has motivated me to do all I can to help Tillie. She must be devastated, and I feel it my civic duty to step forward with my professional training in psychiatry and offer her at least an ear. In fact, I’m willing to furnish her with some of the new wonder drugs so sought after for their proven ability to relieve mental stress.”

“Well, Paul, things happen among these people. You shouldn’t worry yourself on matters like this.” He pulled out a cigar from his shirt pocket and a penknife from his pants pockets. He began to carefully cut the tip off.

“I suppose you’re right, but nevertheless I feel I must do all I can to help Tillie.”

“That’s commendable of you, Paul, but I still say not to fret over such trivial concerns.”

He now struck a match and puffed profusely, intently staring at the end of his cigar. He then continued. “So how can I help you with all this?”

“I’ve  attained an involuntary commitment for Tillie and Bessie, to help them. They currently suffer from a recognized mental illness called hysteria. It is characterized by volatile emotions and often delusions. It’s common among women.”