A fair snowfall had hit just out of Point Pleasant. It had been slow going, with him barely making twenty miles per hour across the highways and byways of West Virginia. Finally, after ten hours negotiating the hazardous mountain roads on Randy’s sportster and dumping it three times—Bros’ going to whoop your ass!—he approached the house where Duty lived; the girl of his dreams.

Not two weeks ago on this timeline he had been sucked out of Mister George’s Charles Town office when he was called back to Branch One. After six months and perhaps a dozen battles, pursuits, ambushes, firefights, massacres and one-to-ones he was back; hoping that Mister George had not had a heart attack watching him get vaporized into elongated strands of information.

His face was past numb and his snow-caked cap was frozen to his head. But that was okay, because his face and head were so swollen, stitched and knotted up from the beating he had taken three days ago from the Siberian Tiger in that cage fight back in Vegas that the developing frostbite actually felt good.

When he rumbled up into the snow-covered driveway he could see Duty’s Mustang and Mister George’s Expedition. There was also a snowman obviously built by Edwin, Duty’s older brother who suffered from Down’s Syndrome. The snowman was posed like a boxer and the carrot-nose had been purposefully broken.

He cut her off and stepped stiffly up to the door with his saddlebags over his shoulder and knocked. There was no answer so he knocked again. He found himself wishing he was back in the past so he could hear like a dog. As it was, his right ear had never been right after the Gonzales fight and his left ear was still ringing from one of the many elbows he ate back in Vegas. He knocked again and waited a long moment.

When the door creaked slowly open George and Duty’s roommate Amber were standing in the doorway. Duty was somewhere within arguing with Edwin, who wanted to come see him.

Amber sneered at him, “Hey asshole, what’s up?”

He could not think of what to say and George nodded to Amber and stepped outside pulling the door shut behind him. The tall old man was looking like he had seen a ghost or a resurrected soul. He hesitated and then intoned in his halting voice, “Young man, I do not know what I saw in my office two weeks ago. I have not known what to tell people. I have been researching spontaneous combustion and even UFO abductions and miracles. I am perplexed, but had to tell Suzanne something. I told her that you had been picked up for ‘a job.’ I did not specify, do not feel comfortable lying, but had no understandable truth to relate. Help me out here Mister Bracken.”

“I’m a time-hunter Sir; like a mercenary. I was called back ta Sixteen-twenty-eight ta fight some Spaniards—had near a dozen engagements in six months Sir. My employer, an Iroquois wizard you might say, den brought me back to da Southwest, had a cage fight in Vegas, en escorted him en his ta a secure Appalachian location, en he gave me two months leave—I jus’ got ta deliver a treaty proposal to da other time-travelers he at odds with Sir. It sounds crazy en iz, en I won’ blame ya fer laughin’. Really Sir iz all a lot more den I undastand—I’m jus’ a grunt. He gave me a big payday en I figured on payin’ fer dem windows in yer office and leavin’ some cash with Duty.”

The man stepped back and swayed in the snow, crossing his arms and soothing his whiskers with one hand as he contemplated Jay’s confession. “These things stay between you and I. We can explain your absence based on the prize-fight in Vegas. She does not, at this time, wish to see you. She is strong-headed that young woman. I will bring Edwin out to see you—and keep your money. Replacing windows is a small price to pay to be privy to a wonder. Come see me at my office when you can and I will arrange a meeting with Suzanne. Give it a month or so. She will never forgive you if you don’t make an effort, but she can’t see you yet. She needs to be angry for now.”

George patted him on the shoulder and went back inside, soon to return with Edwin. Edwin gave him a big hug and handed him a baggy of cookies. “‘I Gay, Duty maaad.”

Jay shook hands with Edwin and slipped him a couple of hundred-dollar bills. “Ged some model cars Edwin. I’ll be back when Duty ain’ mad.”

He turned and saluted Mister George and the man gave him an odd look. “Mister Bracken please return to speak of this subject with me. I dared not think that one day I would confront as an old man the dreams I had as a boy.”

Jay gave him a friendly nod and waved to Edwin. As he brushed off his seat and returned the saddlebags to the bike he felt a bitter taste in his mouth, but deep inside was relieved that he would not have to leave Duty when he got called again. The sound of the bike coming to life heartened him and he rolled slowly off down the road with his legs out like ski poles.

Yeah asshole, I guess that makes it easy don’t it.

It sure does boy. It sure does.