Chapter 11
The new school year started off well enough, but then got bad. I got my dorm room set up, and once again I had a single room. I discovered that a college was as money grubbing as the government was. However, unlike the federal government; if you paid a college extra, you received better service.
While my father had bought an education policy for me when I was a baby, it only entitled me to a dorm room, not a single dorm room. A few hundred dollars extra during the yearly registration, saw to it that my room was a single.
Melinda and I took up where we had left off. I was happy to see her, and while it was a little awkward for the first few days, we resumed our relationship with eagerness. I discovered that she had an all over deep tan. No bikini lines anywhere! As the Brits would say, "Cheeky girl."
It was shortly after a bout of love making, and we were lazing in each other's arms that she mentioned that her parents would like to meet me. So I agreed to a meal with them on a Friday evening.
The meal went well, it was what followed after that didn't. I was asked the usual questions parents ask the male of the species who hangs around their daughters. I remained polite and did not engage in political discussion with them. They were very pro-democrat and while I was neither a democrat nor republican, I had learned long ago politics was a volatile subject. So I kept my opinions to myself.
After dinner was over, we retired to the living room for after dinner drinks and talk. The subject turned to what was I going to do after I graduated. Melinda already had a tentative position with a political action group.
"Well, I was going to take a little time off, and travel a bit. I have some money saved, and can live fairly well on it. I was thinking of traveling to historical sites and doing some in depth research," I said hesitantly.
Melinda's father shook his head no at me. "You are making the mistake the young always do. Time is shorter than you think! You need to get yourself positioned now for work after graduation.
"However much you might have inherited from your mother when she died, it is not going to last you as long as you might think. I am sorry if I offend you, but you need to worry about these things now.
"Take my daughter for example. We managed to get her a promise of a position with a lobby group's base of operations. It will earn her a nice salary, and give her a chance to rise in the organization as well!" he said.
"You're sitting there telling us that after you receive a good education, you plan on not doing anything with it, and you want to be a part of my daughters life?" Mr. Jackson then yelled explosively.
"Daddy! You promised you weren't going to do this!" Melinda exclaimed indignantly.
Her mother chimed in at almost at the same time with a, "Roger!"
"I'm sorry Beth, Melinda, but this boy is what's wrong with the country today! No work ethic! What if he moves in with Melinda after college? He would end up mooching off of her until she came to her senses and kicked him out. No! I am sorry, but I don't approve of him," he said, and stormed out of the room.
There was an uneasy silence and I rose. "Ma'am, I'm sorry your husband feels that way about me. I'll leave, now. I just want to say that I have worked most of my life. First on our farm, and then when I was in high school. It was only last year and this year that I did not have to get a summer job. I have worked most of my life, and have what I think is a good work ethic," I said and left.
That was the end of September, and as November started, my relationship with Melinda took a turn for the worse. It seems I had destroyed the peace of her home with my announcement to her work-a-holic father that I intended to take time off to travel after graduation. He disapproved of me intensely, after knowing me only that one afternoon.
The result was that we broke up halfway through November. I was stunned. This, happening to me on top of my mother's death, put me in the dumps. Plus, I was just plain angry! This was also the time I was approached by two members of our government, in the form of the FBI.
They were curious about my connection with Lord John Aver-Smythe of England. We were sitting in my room and I was still puzzled.
"I don't understand. I don't have a connection with Lord Avery-Smythe," I said puzzled.
"Do you deny going to England and meeting with him August 4th of this year?" asked the male agent. I forget his name, and his female partners name escapes me as well.
"No. I ran across some items that were his family's, and since I was going to England on vacation anyway, I took the opportunity to return them to him," I replied.
"What were these items," the female agent asked.
"Well, I came across an old sword, and some maps from the revolutionary war. The sword had a crest on it, and I researched it. The maps had some scribbling on it that was hard to discern, but after I found out who the crest belonged to, the scribbling on the maps made more sense," I said, improvising quickly.
This went on for a while, then the female agent came right out with, "You really expect us to believe this story? If that were true, why was British intelligence doing a background check on you? What are you really doing with Lord Avery-Smythe?"
"I told you, I just returned family heirlooms. As for him having me checked out, I am not responsible for the actions of other people, or other nations," I said, getting pissed.
They questioned me a little more, with the tonal inflection in their voices indicating disbelief and scorn. You know what I mean. You see TV cops doing it all the time. I got tired of it.
"This interview is over," I said, rising.
I went to open my room door.
"We still have a lot more questions and ground to cover Mr. Wilshire. We are not through, yet," the male agent said.
"Oh, yes, we are! I tried to be cooperative. I answered every question. Several times I answered the same questions asked differently. I answered all, as honestly and truthfully as I could. Instead of thanks, I get accusations. Well, I am done. You want more answers from this point, see my attorney. Now leave," I said, and waited at the door.
"You don't want to do this. You are just about saying with your actions, that you are collaborating with a foreign intelligence agency," female agent said.
"I am saying no such thing. I am saying I answered your questions, and now I am refusing to be treated as a criminal. Leave, and leave now. You're both trespassing," I said firmly.
They just sat there, staring at me. I sighed, and went to the phone on my desk, and called campus security. I was not too sure of my rights, so I did not get physical with them. I asked security to come and eject two persons who were in my room without permission.
By the end of November I knew that I was being watched. I found the whole thing annoying. I also asked Levy to do some postulating for me. I asked what would be the repercussions of someone in the future interacting with people of the past. He asked me if I was finally able to move into the past, psychically.
I assured him that I was not able to do that, and probably was never going to be able to do it. But the thought was fascinating to me, and I wondered what were the possible outcomes from interacting with the past, actively.
He was of two minds. On one hand, nothing about the past was changeable. History, already having been written, could not be re-written. You might be able to affect a small change in who did what, but it was still going to turn out as it already had.
I said it would be interesting to test the theory. For example; what if I went back into the past, and accidentally killed the direct ancestor that was instrumental in getting me born, but before he got a chance to do the job?
Levy thought that this could not happen. Since I was here, now; if I was able to go into the past, I would not, could not, hurt anyone important to my current existence.
I said that it now sounded like there was a guiding consciousness. He said not really. He said it was more of a type of inertia. To overcome that inertia, would be to cease to exist. All in all it was a fascinating afternoon.
While I still saw John from time to time, our relationship was strained. We nodded politely to one another, and exchanged polite pleasantries, but the old friendship was definitely not there. Apparently, he had finally taken my rant to leave me alone about my gift, to heart.
Christmas came, and it hit me hard. I went home, but it wasn't the same. I didn't put up a tree. I did 'look' into the past, and watched past Christmases. I smiled and cried as I watched me as a child. I watched each Christmas, as I and my parents got older. I was tempted to just step back into the past and talk to Mom and Dad again; but no, that would just confuse them.
During this time at home, I kept practicing storing power. I discovered I seemed to be doing it automatically, now. What I mean is, I did not have to consciously grab the power anymore. My mind seemed to have developed the ability, or the habit, of doing it. It had become almost like an autonomic reflex.
I was also able to see further back than before! I could now see to the mid-1600's! This was very exciting, and while there was not much to see in my part of the US at this time, the older parts of the country were a wealth of information!
The things I learned of how they dressed, the customs, and how people reacted to each other were amazing. I made a trip out of the Christmas break, and did a little 'Time Diving' to retrieve objects that would have been lost, anyway.
My storage locker was getting cluttered; as well as my indoor, temperature controlled storage room, where I kept my two rifles and my pistol. I had added an old clock that I rescued from a fire in 1710, and a few first edition books by some rather well known authors.
As I started to accumulate these items, I decided I needed a private storage place. What with the government snooping, they could conceivably get a warrant, and search these lockers. No, I would need a secret storage place. It would have to be something I owned, but not in my name, which would make it hard for the government to get said warrants.
Was I paranoid? Not really. I had been able to identify at least three people who seemed to be doing around the clock surveillance of me. I 'Back Timed', and would watch myself. I watched the surrounding people and places, also. It was not hard to spot the people shadowing me. They were good, in that I never saw them when they were doing it, but it became obvious to me when I started looking at my immediate past.
I was always careful to do my 'Time Diving', without any witnesses. I got good at escaping these people upon occasion, too. I made it seem like it was just a happenstance, but I got good at slipping away from these people when I wanted.
I was able to watch over their shoulders as they wrote or talked into a tape recorder of what they were observing. I was always referred to as "the subject". They noted anyone with whom I interacted. I noted that they were investigating both John and Levy, since I had spent a lot of time with those two.
I was vaguely worried that one of them (ok, John) might spill the beans about my ability to 'look into the past', and that would really get the government on my ass! I could just see them wanting me to spy for them, or to look into almost any number of possible informational scenarios.
I did not want to be a government slave. I was almost sure that they would try to keep one hundred percent control of me, if they discovered I could even see into the past, let alone actually go there!
Classes were winding down. Finals were over with, and the year was, too. My four years of college were done, and I had no one coming to see me graduate. I really missed my parents on holidays, birthdays, vacations, and special occasions like this.
Mom and Dad had planned on being here for my graduation. Then Dad had died, which just left Mom. She had said nothing could keep her away. Well, Death had come for her, too. I ordered my cap and gown, and practiced with the rest of my class. Although I was wondering, 'why go through with the ceremony?'
Finally, graduation day was here. I had already taken most of my stuff, and put it in my car. I had more things accumulated by the end of the year, than what I had started with, as usual.
The ceremony itself was almost a let down. A time of my life was now complete and over with. I would never again experience what I had while going to college. We graduates were sitting outside in five hundred folding chairs.
Parents and relatives and friends were sitting in the bleachers of the sports field, while we graduates sat on the field itself. There were the usual speeches, and the then after about 25 minutes, the president of the university started calling off graduates names, to come get their diplomas.
An hour later I was a graduate. I had already said goodbye to all my friends, and was headed to my car, when I heard someone call my name. I turned, and there was a woman. She was very nice looking, and familiar for some reason I could not put my finger on.
"Yes?" I responded.
"Hello, Tom. I'm Debra Willows, your half sister. Could we talk?" she asked me.
I felt a thrill go through me.
While I had thought about contacting her, I had not known what I would say to her. Well, she resolved that problem for me, as she stood before me, with a video camera in her hand.
Edited by TeNderLoin