Fedora Outlaw by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

Fedora Outlaw

By

Gary Whitmore

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events or places or cities, time machines, time travel, or persons, gangsters, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2014 by Gary M. Whitmore

Image Copyright: http://www.123rf.com/

profile_rudall30/123RF Stock Photo

Prologue

People all around the world had wondered for years if time travel was possible. The concept of backward time travel appeared to be the predominant belief and desire amongst the dreamers.

A book called Predki Kalimerosa: Aleksandr Filippovich Makedonskii came out in 1836 by Alexander Veltman. This was the first Russian science fiction novel to use time travel.

In 1895 the book The Time Machine by H.G. Wells came out and captured the imaginations of so many young minds.

So many wanted to travel in time to change the course of history. Some wanted to change time to where World War One, World War Two, Korea or Vietnam never occurred, thus saving thousands of lives.

Some wanted to change time to where one could go forward to get the winning lottery numbers and be rich beyond imagination.

Some wanted to go back in time and solve all those highly visible unsolved murder mysteries. Some also believed that one should not go back in time and alter history.

One such young mind that grew up into an old man obsessed with time travel was Doctor Wallace Burns. He was currently a Physics professor at the University of Texas in Austin. But Wallace had a different reason for wanting to travel back in time.

The seventy-three-year-old professor had been a familiar fixture of the university for the past fifty years. Wallace never married, as he loved teaching and playing around with physics more than having a wife and kids. He lived for physics and looked the part of a typical science nerd. He was lanky with thinning hair, and the sides were long and stringy and flew out in all directions. One often wondered if Wallace knew that a comb was designed for hair grooming. The horn- rimmed glasses and the dull gray, blue or black pants with black, red or

gray bow ties really added to his nerdy appearance. Especially when his clothes were not color-coordinated. He was the brunt of many discreet jokes behind his back by many of his students.

But when you attended his classes, one learned about the wonderful world of Physics. Many of his students grew to respect Dr. Burns.

Wallace had a sister Doris that died in 2003 in a car accident along with her husband Sidney due to a drunk driver.

He also had a nephew that lived in Austin. His nephew was his only living relative.

Wallace loved living at his family farm since it was isolated, and he used the old barn for his experiments and projects.

The recent and the most prized project that he had been working on frantically since 1995 was the potential that one could travel back and forth in time.

Wallace had been fascinated with time travel after he first read the science fiction book The Time Machine by H.G. Wells when he was ten years old. That book belonged to his father, who read it when he was eight years old. Wallace still had that book in his study and re-read it occasionally.

So in 2003, Wallace started building his time machine in a secured room inside his barn.

Then on the afternoon of Saturday, September 12, 2014, Wallace had a plan to execute his most crucial test with his experiment.

He grabbed his small Nikon COOLPIX S32 digital camera off his iMac computer desk in his study.

He rushed out of his house locking it.

He headed to the left and rushed through his side yard and headed to his barn.

He got to the side door of the barn and unlocked it. He opened the door, stepped inside the barn, and immediately locked the door from the inside.

Inside the middle of the barn were two tables that looked like a chemistry lab. On the side, walls have all sorts of shop equipment to manufacture just about anything one wanted.

At the back end of the barn was a room where its door was also locked.

He ran to the other end of the barn to that room.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside the room.

He immediately locked the door behind him.

Wallace turned around and looked at his time machine. It looked like a 1950s saucer styled spaceship with a plexiglass bubble canopy. It was a polished silver craft with four landing legs that kept it three feet off the ground. The machine was about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle.

He took a huge breath of courage while he marveled at his incredible invention.

“I sure hope this works,” he wished while he rushed over and pulled up a small door handle on the port side of the machine.

The clicking sound of the canopy and side doors unlocking was heard. The canopy flipped up with a whish, and small doors opened down with a whish on both sides of the machine.

He sat down inside the machine on the bench seat built for two. He buckled up using the harness belt he got out of an old Stearman airplane.

He reached up and grabbed a handle on the bottom of the canopy. He pulled it down, and the canopy and the small side doors closed at the same time with a whish.

He looked around the inside of his machine and got a little scared on being his own guinea pig.

The console was a piece of rectangular aluminum. It contained the minimal, gauges, lights, panels and toggle switches to perform the task.

At the top of the console was another bolted piece of flat rectangular aluminum.

That panel contained six lights with associated toggle switches.

At the left was a rectangular light with a red lens. Below it was a toggle switch with “1 - Power” etched in the panel.

To the right of the power lens and switch was a rectangular light with red and green lens. Below that was a toggle switch with “2 - Canopy and Doors” etched in the panel.

To the right of the Canopy and Doors light and switch was a rectangular light with red and green lens. Below that was a toggle switch labeled “3 - Dates” etched in the panel.

To the right of the Date light and switch was a rectangular light with red and green lens. Below that was a toggle switch labeled “4 - Engine” etched in the panel.

Below the Engine toggle switch was a circular gauge for the engine. It contained a semi-circular bar with white, green, and red colors.

To the right of the Engine light and switch was a rectangular light with red and green lens. Below that was a toggle switch labeled “5 - Timer” etched in the metal.

Below the Timer toggle switch was another small panel.

This panel contained a small window for a digital readout in minutes with a dial below it.

To the right of the Timer, light and switch were a rectangular light with red and green lens. Below that was a toggle switch labeled 6 - Travel” etched in the panel.

Below the above panel were three larger panels. Each of these three panels had four small digital readout panels. The one panel to the left was labeled “Month.” The one next to that was labeled “Day.” The one next to that was labeled “Year,” and the one next to that was labeled “Time.” Below each of these panels was a dial for dialing in the digital readout.

This panel to the left was etched “3a - Now” in the panel and where you would dial in the month, year, day and time when you started your time travel adventure.

The panel in the center had the same four panels and dials.

It was etched “3b - Drop-Off ” in the panel and was where you dialed in the destination for your time travel adventure.

The panel to the right had the same four panels and dials.

It was etched “3c - Pick-Up” in the panel and was where you dialed in the time for the time machine to pick you up from your time travel adventure.

Wallace had labeled the switches in the order of sequence to perform the time-traveling task. He did this to avoid the worries of losing any printed instructions.

Wallace flipped the “1 - Power” switch up. The lens of that light above it illuminated green. He glanced at the remaining five rectangular lights and noticed they were all illuminated on the red side of those lenses.

He then flipped the “2 - Canopy and Doors” toggle switch up. A click sound was heard that indicated the canopy and the side doors were locked and secured. Then the light above it illuminated the green side of that lens.

He glanced down at his watch then dialed in Friday, September 12, 2014, 1325 in the “Now” panel.

He dialed in December 7, 1941, 1425 in the “Drop-Off ”

panel.

He dialed in December 7, 1941, 1445 in the “Pick- Up”

panel.

Wallace noticed that the “3 - Dates” light illuminated the green side of that lens.

He flipped the “ 4 - Engine” toggle switch and noticed that the lens above it illuminated the green side of that lens.

The engine in the rear started up with a whine. The engine started to hum.

Wallace glanced at a circular “Engine” gauge with white, green and red semi-circle bars. He saw that the needle was in the white bar on the right and slowly moving to the green bar in the middle.

He dialed in “3” for the digital readout of three minutes in the small “Timer” panel.

He flipped the “5 - Timer” toggle switch and noticed that the lens above it illuminated the green side of that lens.

The needle of the “Engine” gauge was now in the middle of the green bar.

Wallace hesitated while the humming sound stayed a constant hum. He closed his eyes and debated if he should continue.

He flipped the “6 - Time Travel” toggle switch quickly before he changed his mind. He noticed that the lens above it illuminated the green side.

The flipping of this switch started the time travel process, and the humming got louder and was ear piercing. Wallace covered his ears with his hands and cringed in extreme pain.

The time machine started to slowly spin where the lower part of the bottom that connected to the landing legs stayed stationary.

The spinning of the machine started to get faster.

Wallace started to get dizzy inside the time machine while he spun around faster.

The time machine started to spin at hypersonic speed.

Wallace watched while psychedelic colors filled the plastic canopy of the time machine.

The time machine rose up off the ground by three inches.

The landing legs retracted into the bottom of the machine.

The time machine whirled around at hypersonic speed three feet off the ground.

Wallace passed out and slumped down in his harness.

It was a matter of minutes when Wallace became conscious.

The time machine was quiet except for the low hum that indicated it was still powered up.

Wallace looked around in a daze and wondered where he was and what happened. Then he remembered and looked at the console and where the December 7, 1941, 1425 date flashed in the “Drop- Off ” panel.

He saw that all of the six lights were still illuminated on the green side of their lens.

He looked at the canopy and saw that the three walls of his room in his barn were gone. The wooden walls of the barn appeared newer.

“I made it,” the second he saw his granddaddy’s black 1932

Ford pick-up truck parked in the barn near the big double doors.

He remembered riding in the back of that pick-up as a kid. He rode down the streets of Austin with his grandfather and father.

Wallace pulled up on a small handle on the wall of the left side of the machine. The two small doors opened at the same time the canopy lifted up.

Wallace got out of his time machine then closed the canopy. He pulled the small handle down on the port side of the machine.

He heard the canopy and small doors lock with a click.

He rushed over to a side door of the barn a safe distance away from his time machine.

He waited for three minutes.

The time machine started to hum.

The humming got louder and was again ear- piercing causing Wallace to cover his ears again.

The time machine started to slowly spin, and the landing legs stayed stationary.

The spinning started to get faster.

The time machine started to spin at hypersonic speed.

Wallace stared in awe while psychedelic colors filled the canopy of the time machine.

The time machine rose up off the ground by three feet.

The landing legs retracted into the bottom of the machine.

The time machine whirled around at hypersonic speed three feet off the ground.

Wallace watched while his time machine disappeared in a poof raining a million pieces of red, white, blue, green, and yellow lights all over the place.

The colored lights dissolved into thin air.

“I sure hope it works and comes back for me,” said Wallace while he stared at the bare spot in the hay on the barn floor where his time machine once stood.

Wallace saw his grandfather’s 1932 Ford pickup truck parked inside the garage.

He walked over to it recalling memories of riding in it when he was growing up. Wallace eventually owned that pickup but just kept it inside this barn. Wallace owned the family home later in life.

He opened up the side door of the barn and stepped outside.

Once Wallace was outside the barn, he looked around his family farm, and it looked a little different. All of those colossal shade trees were now smaller.

He saw his house looked the same except it needed a coat of paint. Then Wallace remembered helping his daddy and granddaddy paint it when he was six years old. He was small and could only paint the bottom part of the house. But he loved helping out that day.

Wallace rushed over to the front porch.

He gingerly stepped on the front porch then cautiously inched his way to the large living room window .

He peeked in the window through the opened part of the curtains.

Inside the house, he saw his twenty-five-year-old father Ernie, and forty-five-year-old grandfather Victor sitting in wooden rocking chairs. They sat in front of the brown wooden Zenith console radio. The same radio Wallace had in his living room today in that exact spot.

On the couch sat his forty-five-year-old grandmother Alice who sat next to twenty-three-year- old mother Kimberly holding a four-month-old Wallace in her arms.

Baby Wallace was sound asleep in Kimberly’s arms while the CBS news was telling everybody the devastating news that the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor earlier today. Ernie and Victor looked pissed over hearing the horrible news.

Inside the house, Kimberly glanced down at her precious little Wallace still sound asleep in her arms. Her eyes welled up, knowing the country would be at war any day now. She feared Ernie would be sent off to fight the Japanese. Her eyes welled up at the thought of her baby growing up during war time.

The four didn’t notice Wallace peeking in their living room window discreetly taping the event with his Nikon camera. They were too involved in the radio broadcast to see that old man spying on them.

Wallace’s eyes welled up, seeing this family moment. He moved his head and camera out of view from the window.

Outside the house, Wallace gingerly walked off the porch.

Once he got off the bottom step of the porch, he ran off to the left through the side yard.

He ran off to the barn, still undetected by his family.

Once Wallace slipped through the side door of the barn, he ran over to his time machine.

He rushed back inside the machine. He pulled up on the handle, and the canopy and side door opened.

He sat inside his machine then closed the canopy and side doors with a whish.

After a few seconds, after Wallace ran through the process again, the engine of the time machine started to hum. The humming got louder.

Inside the Burns farmhouse, Victor’s ears perked up, thinking he heard some strange humming noise coming from the barn. It was a peculiar noise he never heard before.

“Did you hear that?” he said.

Ernie listened, and he heard that strange noise. “What is that?”

Alice and Kimberly also heard that noise and looked at each other.

“Japanese?” said Alice, fearful that Austin was being invaded by the Japanese.

Kimberly held baby Wallace a little tighter to protect him.

Victor jumped out of his rocking chair and ran to the front door.

He grabbed a double barrel Remington shot gun that hung on the wall next to the front door.

Ernie jumped out of his rocking chair. He ran over to the front door.

He grabbed the single barrel Remington shot gun that also hung on the wall next to the front door.

Victor and Ernie ran out of the house ready to protect their home from any foreign invaders.

Once they got off the porch, Victor and Ernie cocked their shot guns and cautiously headed to his barn.

Once they cautiously slipped inside the barn through the side door, they glanced around the barn, ready to kill. Nobody was there, and the barn was quiet.

“Must be that radio broadcast making me hear things,” he said to Ernie.

Ernie curiously walked over to the spot where the time machine once parked. He sensed something strange then knelt down. He touched the hay. “Feels warm,” he told Victor.

Victor walked over, knelt down, and touched the hay.

“That’s strange. Really strange,” he said, feeling the same warmth.

Victor and Ernie left the barn wondering what had just happened. If they only knew.

They headed back to the farm house taking an occasional glance up at the sky for sights or sounds of Japanese fighters.

It was back to September 12, 2014.

The room in Wallace’s barn was quiet.

The inside of that room suddenly was filled that humming sound.

That sound got louder and ear piercing, but nobody was around to be in pain.

Millions of tiny pieces of red, white, blue, green, and yellow lights appeared racing all over the place. The colored lights converged into one spot in the air. The time machine reappeared in a poof.

It whirled at hypersonic speed three feet above the ground.

The bottom part of the machine locked into a stationary position. The four landing legs extended out of the machine and it settled down to the ground.

The humming sound started to get softer.

The spinning of the machine slowed down and stopped.

The time machine was again quiet.

The canopy and side doors opened up, and Wallace stepped out. He moved the side handle down, and the canopy and side doors closed and locked with a click.

He walked away from his machine, then turned around and glanced back at it.

He jumped up and down then did a dorky dance around the room so excited that his time machine worked and he wasn’t vaporized into a million pieces.

He ran out of the room and locked the door behind him.

He danced his dorky dance over to the side door of the barn and slipped outside.

He locked the side barn door then ran to his house with an occasional jumping up in the air and again doing his dorky dance in the grass.

Chapter 1

A week passed.

It was a beautiful, warm Friday in Austin, Texas. It was September 19, 2014.

In the northern area of Austin was the Chamberlain Cadillac dealership. This place of business had been a familiar sight in Austin since 1919.

The service department of the Chamberlain Cadillac dealership was busy today, as was the norm.

In one of the bays worked thirty-year-old mechanic Clark Burrows. He had been an employee of Chamberlain Cadillac for the past nine years. He was one of their best mechanics and was often requested for routine maintenance by many of Chamberlain’s faithful Cadillac customers.

Clark was different because he always sported a pencil-thin mustache and kept his black hair in a buzz cut in the back and sides and long on top. He would slick the long hair back for a style that looked like someone from the 1930s.

At this moment, Clark was busy changing the hoses and belts on the engine of a silver 2004 Cadillac CTS. He whistled and hummed out the Glenn Miller tune Little Brown Jug while he worked on the engine. The other mechanics and female employees thought that was odd. But Clark didn’t care and always whistled or hummed the 1930s and 1940s tunes while he worked.

The car he had his head buried inside the engine compartment belonged to Dr. Wallace Burns, and he was a

faithful customer of the dealership. He also insisted that only Clark could work on his car.

After working on Wallace’s CTS, Clark backed the car out of the service bay.

Clark parked Wallace’s CTS in a parking spot reserved for the serviced cars.

When he turned the car engine off, he noticed a leather attaché on the passenger floorboard. Another smaller leather-bound notebook shifted out from the attaché. Clark got curious the second he saw the leather notebook. It was almost as if it called out his name to read it. He usually wouldn’t look at a customer’s belongings, but he knew Wallace wouldn’t complain to management.

Clark reached over and grabbed the book.

He opened it up and saw it contained years of notes and strange formulas jotted down in pen with some in pencil.

Clark saw pages near the end with sketches of a strange-looking machine. The sketches looked like the draft of a blueprint for a 1950s saucer spaceship with a bubble canopy.

“He’s building a spaceship?” said Clark, staring at the design.

He flipped through the pages again, then stopped on one page near the beginning where Wallace jotted down, “Exceed the speed of light equals time travel where you can witness history.”

Clark turned the page and saw the “Traveling back to December 7, 1941, was a success. I saw myself as a four-month-old baby in momma’s arms. I saw Daddy, momma, Granddaddy, and Grandma. Heard news on the radio about Pearl Harbor. I discreetly took a video of that historic event.

Maybe I could turn this into an opportunity to find the wrongs contained within the history books?” he read under the “Test! ”

heading.

“Time travel?” Clark said while he flipped back to the end of the book and glanced at the spaceship sketch.

He shrugged that thought off and returned the leather book to the passenger floorboard.

Clark exited the CTS, locked the door, and returned to the service bay.

“Hey, Clark. Is she ready?” called Wallace, who walked over to Clark after being dropped off by a fellow professor.

Clark approached Wallace and was itching to ask about his time travel notes. He refrained, always considering Wallace a little odd and a huge nerd. “She’s purring like a kitten, Uncle Wallace,” Clark said while he stopped by him.

“Great, Clark,” Wallace replied then he shook Clark’s hands.

“I’ll turn in the keys, then you can take her home,” said Clark, then he headed to the service bays.

“You’ll have to come by for dinner soon. We need to catch up with current events,” said Wallace while headed over to the doors of the customer area of the Service Department.

“I will,” replied Clark, returning to his toolbox for the paperwork on Wallace’s car.

Hours had passed, and Clark had finished doing his magic and made five other Chamberlain customers extremely satisfied.

Even though Clark loved working on cars, deep down inside, he yearned for a life full of adventure.

It was quitting time, and Clark and the other mechanics started putting away their tools.

Fellow mechanic Roger Bauer walked over to Clark.

Roger was the same age as Clark, and they had been close friends for the past seven years.

“What time are you going to pick me up?” asked Roger the second he walked up to Clark.

“Around eight-thirty.”

“See you then,” said Roger, then he walked away. Clark closed and then locked his toolbox.

He headed out of the service bay and over to his car.

Clark drove a red 1932 Ford pickup truck hot-rod. It had a 350 Chevy engine with 350 transmission. The inside had full tan leather seats, a kick-ass stereo, and ice-cold air conditioning.

The pickup was cherry, a testimony of Clark’s restoration and mechanical capability.

His Ford pickup turned many heads while he rumbled through the streets of Austin.

Clark’s great-grandfather, Victor, who was Wallace’s grandfather, once owned that old truck. Clark took it out of the Wallace’s barn and restored it five years ago. It was the same pickup Wallace had seen when he traveled back to 1941 for his test run with his machine.

Clark drove off to his home, located in the southern area of Austin.

After Clark got home from work, he ate a microwavable fried chicken dinner.

After dinner, he showered and got dressed in his standard attire to pick up the baby. This consisted of a charcoal-vested three-piece suit with a black tie, a black, a black Fedora hat, and black dress shoes. Clark thought he looked cool and that the ladies got wet the second they laid eyes on him. But tonight, he decided not to wear the suit coat jacket.

But there was something that Clark never told anybody. At one time, he believed that he was actually Clyde Barrow, who had been reincarnated as Clark Burrows. What was his rationale for this belief? The first was that his initials were CB, just like Clyde Barrow. The second was that Clyde worked as a mechanic for his father’s garage, and Clark worked as a mechanic. That was an extremely weak rationale, but Clark still believed he was Clyde Barrow in a previous life.

But that belief went away four years ago, and Clark became obsessed with the life of famed 1930s outlaw Dirk Beaumont.

That was why he moved to Austin, Texas, eight years ago. And having an uncle in Austin made it easier for him to get established.

It was now eight-thirty that Friday night.

Clark got inside his 1932 Ford hot rod and roared the engine. He was ready to party to relieve the stress of another forty-hour workweek.

He backed down his driveway and closed the garage door.

He pulled out of his driveway and saw the For Sale sign in his neighbor’s front yard to his left. He wondered when

someone would buy the Thompson home while he drove off down Hampton Avenue.

He drove through the streets and headed to the western area of Austin to pick up Roger at his apartment complex.

However, Clark and Roger looked like the odd couple since Roger always wore blue jeans, a western shirt, cowboy boots, and a black cowboy hat, while Clark dressed like someone who had stepped out of the 1930s.

“Hey, buddy. I’m ready for a weekend with hopefully some cowgirl posting,” said Roger the second he sat his butt down in the passenger bucket seat.

“Me too,” replied Clark while he backed his hot rod out of the parking spot in Roger’s apartment complex parking lot.

“I’m ready for some pussy tonight,” Roger yelled out in joy while Clark drove through the lot and headed to Fairmont Street.

“Me too!” Clark softly replied while he turned right onto Fairmont and sounded like he lacked some confidence.

Roger could sense that Clark lacked confidence in picking up a girl tonight. A smirk grew on his face. “I can imagine that swapping dates between your right and left hands is getting pretty old by now,” he said, doing his usual job of joking with Clark.

“Yeah,” Clark replied with a light chuckle, but Roger was not far from the truth.

During the drive through the streets of Austin to the downtown area, Clark and Roger chatted about their week of work fixing Cadillacs and which customers had the worst snooty attitude.

Thirty minutes had passed, and Clark parked his hot rod in a parking lot in downtown Austin.

Roger and Clark strutted down the street. Clark wore his Fedora hat, feeling dapper.

They walked down a few blocks and entered the Party Hard Night Club.

The Party Hard Night Club was a favorite hangout for many hot girls attending the University of Texas Austin campus.

Roger and Clark were a usual sight at this club every Friday night for the mission of getting between the sheets with one of these college hotties.

The Party Hard Night Club always had a band that played on Friday and Saturday nights. The bands typically played western or country rock music. The Bubba and the Pot Belly Boys band was playing in the club this weekend. Their sets played western and country-rock music and were popular in Austin.

Clark and Roger entered the club the second Bubba and the Pot Belly Boys cranked up their version of Six Days on the Road song.

“Well, I pulled out of Pittsburgh, Rollin’ down the Eastern Seaboard,” sang the lead singer into his microphone.

Clark and Roger each ordered a Lone Star beer and stood by the bar. They glanced around the club for the prospects of a night between the sheets. The candidates tonight were looking mighty delicious.

Clark and Roger headed away from the bar to make their smooth moves.

Roger started chatting with this hottie who had long silky blonde hair down to the middle of her back and body with curves in all the right places. He struck up a conversation with this hottie, and things were immediately moving in his favor.

Clark turned his sights on this brunette with shoulder-length hair. She was not much of a hottie, but he figured he would lower his standards tonight to increase his chances.

Clark walked away from the bar. He cocked his Fedora hat down while he strutted over to the brunette girl. She sat alone at her table as her girlfriend walked off with another guy.

“Hello, I’m Clark; I would love to join you,” he said to the brunette girl after he walked over to her table.

The brunette girl looked up at Clark and bit her tongue to prevent her from breaking out in a laugh. “I’m sorry, but I’m waiting on my boyfriend to show up,” she said, then took a sip of her drink, avoiding eye contact with Clark.

“Okay,” said Clark, and he walked away, disappointed, and headed back over to the bar.

“Weird,” the girl said quietly, looking relieved Clark left her alone.

Clark stood near the bar and saw Roger still talking with that blonde hottie. They talked and laughed, and Roger was making significant progress.

Clark glanced around the bar and saw an adorable, shapely girl with short red hair sitting at a table alone. He figured he had an excellent shot with his one, so he strutted over to her table.

“Hey there, I’m Clark,” he said the second he arrived at the red-haired girl’s table.

She looked up at Clark and rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’m not here tonight to meet guys,” she said, then looked away.

Clark walked away, disappointed, and headed back over to the bar.

He stood by the bar, drinking his beer.

Roger walked up with that blonde hottie. “Hey buddy, I, ah, don’t need a ride home,” he said, giving Clark a wink and a smile.

“Okay,” replied Clark, and he was jealous that Roger had already picked up someone.

Roger and that girl walked away and headed to the club’s front doors.

Clark looked around the club and saw that brunette who first rejected him chatting with her girlfriend.

Over at that brunette’s table, she leaned over to her girlfriend. “That creep over at the bar within the vest and black hat tried to pick me up,” she told her friend, discreetly pointing at Clark.

“What’s with that stupid mustache?” her friend asked.

“Don’t know and don’t want to find out,” the brunette replied.

Over at the bar, Clark could sense that that brunette girl was talking about him with her friend. He also sensed that it was not pleasant comments.

Clark glanced back at the short red-haired girl’s table. She now had a guy sitting with her, and they talked and laughed.

Clark felt tonight was another bust. He placed his half-empty beer bottle on the bar and headed to the club’s front doors.

Once Clark got outside of the club, he moped down the sidewalk and headed off to his hot rod.

It was a lonely drive back home for Clark. All he could think about was how lucky Roger was and how he was probably naked at this moment with that blonde hottie rubbing sweaty skin against sweaty skin. He got depressed thinking about spending another weekend all alone.

Once Clark got home, he got undressed down to his white tee shirt and boxers.

He entered one of his bedrooms, which he turned into a den. He walked over and turned on his TV and DVD player.

He walked over to his other wall, where he had shelves of books, CDs, and DVDs.

One of the shelves had a few old black-and-white family photos.

One photo was of his grandfather, Billy, standing next to a Moonshine still in the Arkansas woods. Next to Billy was Clark’s thirty-year-old great-grandfather, Buford. The picture was taken in May of 1935.

Another photo was of eight-year-old Clark, taken in Arkansas with his grandfather Billy and grandmother Wendy, both in their early sixties. It was on the front porch of their small farmhouse.

Another photo was of Clark’s grandparents, Ernie and Kimberly Burns, on their front porch in their mid-sixties. A young seven-year-old Clark sat between his grandparents on that porch.

Another picture was of Clark’s parents, Sidney and Doris Burrows, taken when Clark was five. They were at Disney in Orlando on a summer vacation.

Next to the shelves was a 1931 wooden console, Crosley radio. It still worked, but only AM stations were picked up.

Clark’s books were about gangsters and outlaws from the 1920s and 1930s. His CDs were mainly big band and swing music, and Glenn Miller was Clark’s favorite band.

He looked at his DVDs for something to watch. He picked out a DVD.

It was titled Dirk Beaumont, the Fedora Outlaw. It was a biopic about famed 1930s bank robber Dirk Beaumont and his gang. Clark loved this movie, and the DVD was starting to wear out from his constant viewing.

Clark glanced over his collection of books about the 1920s and 1930s gangsters and outlaws. He reached over and picked out the paperback book titled The Life and Times of Dirk Beaumont by Dudley Cooper.

He took the DVD over to his DVD player and started playing the movie.

Clark headed over to his Lazy Boy chair and kicked back.

He opened his book on Dirk Beaumont while the opening scene of the Dirk Beaumont movie started.

One hour and fifty-one minutes had passed, and Clark put down his Dirk Beaumont book.

He watched while the actor who portrayed Dirk Beaumont was killed during a hotel room shoot-out with agents from the Bureau of Investigation and local Little Rock police officers in 1940.

After the closing credits rolled, Clark wondered what would he do this weekend. He usually worked on Saturdays but had tomorrow off.

He stared at the closing credits, then he stared at his book.

He got an idea, and the more he thought about it, the more he smiled. He always wanted to do this, and he decided to do it this weekend.

Clark got up and walked over to the TV and DVD player.

He turned them off, then walked out of his den.

It was now one-thirty in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

Clark was inside his kitchen after taking a shower to wake up. He was dressed in fresh black pants and a black shirt. He left off the black tie.

He just finished pouring freshly made coffee into a Thermos.

He grabbed his Fedora hat and his backpack and headed into his garage.

A little while later, after securing his house, Clark roared his hot rod into the night on Interstate 35. He headed north toward Dallas.

The Glenn Miller song In The Mood played on the CD

player while Clark raced down the highway at eighty miles per hour. He whistled along with the big band song, then took an occasional drink of coffee from his Thermos.

Chapter 2

It was eight that Saturday morning across Arkansas.

Clark drove his Ford pickup east on Interstate 30 at eighty miles per hour.

He got off Interstate 30 and headed north on Route 167.

A little while later, he pulled off Exit 140 and headed into downtown Little Rock.

He headed a little into town and then pulled into the parking lot of the Super 8 in Little Rock.

Twenty minutes had passed, and Clark had a room for the night.

Clark looked at his watch. “It’s too soon,” he said, then yawned.

He walked over to the bed, set the alarm clock radio, got on the bed, and closed his eyes for some much-needed sleep.

Noon arrived, and Clark woke up from his morning nap.

He got off the bed and headed into the bathroom to shower and freshen up for his adventure.

A little while later, Clark dressed back in his black shirt, black pants, and black Fedora hat. He drove his hot rod through the streets of Little Rock.

He pulled into the parking lot of a small museum. This was called the Last Stand of Dirk Beaumont Museum.

Clark left his Ford, entered the museum, and paid the eight-dollar admission fee.

Clark stood in awe at the sight of the museum.

He looked around at the place that was once the Sanders Motel in the 1930s.

This was the actual hotel where famed outlaw Dirk Beaumont was shot and killed by agents of the Bureau of Investigation and Little Rock police officers.

Clark headed over to the original front desk in the main room.

On the top of the desk, encased in Plexiglas, was the original guest book from April 3, 1940, when Dirk Beaumont signed in as Robert Caldwell.

After Clark stared at the guest book, he entered the room that once was the hotel’s dining room. This was now converted into a room with memorabilia of the life and criminal adventures of Dirk Beaumont.

The items included were a picture of his farmhouse in Austin, Texas, mug shots, and many known pictures taken while Dirk was on the run with his gang.

There’s a picture of the Eastham prison farm that housed Dirk. There are pictures of his gang members and the love of Dirk’s life, the beautiful Margret “Marge” Levitt. Most of these pictures were donated by the Beaumont family and were also in that book written by Dudley Cooper.

After Clark had checked out all the memorabilia, he headed upstairs to the room where the actual shootout with law officials had occurred.

The entrance to that room was blocked by transparent Plexiglas to prevent tourists from contaminating this historic site. The only visible sights from that day were the bullet holes still scattered in the plaster walls.

While Clark stared at the bullet holes in the walls, the room felt so surreal.

He could actually visualize the federal agents and cops busting down the room door and the sounds of machine-gun fire that ended the life of Dirk Beaumont.

“The tales he could have told,” Clark muttered while he glanced at the room.

Clark walked away and headed down the hallway.

He went back downstairs and looked at the memorabilia again.

He went back upstairs to look at Dirk’s death room again.

An hour had passed, and Clark left the museum. He drove back to his room at the Super 8.

When he returned to his room, Clark unzipped his backpack and removed his Dirk Beaumont book.

He relaxed on his bed and then opened to the last chapter of that book. The chapter tells the story of Dirk’s last day on Earth.

After Clark ate dinner at the International House of Pancakes (IHOP) next to the Super 8, he drove his hot rod around Little Rock.

A little while later, Clark found an old theater showing The Life and Times of Dirk Beaumont movie. Even though he watched it last night at home, Clark decided to watch it on the big screen.

He went inside and bought a ticket, some popcorn, and Coke.

He was one of the ten other viewers of tonight’s showing.

After the movie, Clark returned to the Super 8 and entered his room.

He lay in bed, watched the TV, and was soon asleep.

It was not long before Clark had started a dream. In Clark’s dream, it was 1931 in Texas.

Clark was behind the wheel racing a 1932 Ford Coupe with a V8 engine down a country dirt road. Gunfire was heard from the rear seat of that Ford. Clark turned around and glanced at the back seat.

He saw three thugs in suits wearing Fedora hats firing Thompson sub-machine guns out the shattered rear window.

Clark turned back around and looked out the front windshield. All of a sudden, he saw twenty Federal agents blocking the road with Thompson sub-machine guns in hand and ready for a fight.

The agents fired their Thompsons, which sounded so real in Clark’s dream.

Back in reality, Clark bolted up in a panic from his dream, and that machine gun sound still filled the room. He looked around the room and then realized his TV was left on and a movie was playing where gangsters were having a shootout in 1920s Chicago.

Clark was relieved, got out of bed, walked over, and turned off the TV.

He walked back to the bed and went back to sleep.

Sunday morning arrived.

Clark rolled out of bed around nine that morning. After shaving and showering, he checked out of his room and headed to the IHOP for breakfast. After a bacon and cheese omelet breakfast and three cups of coffee, Clark headed west on Interstate 30. After ten minutes on the Interstate, Clark passed a red Peterbilt semi-truck with a white enclosed trailer driving five miles under the speed limit.

During the entire drive west on Interstate 30, all Clark could think about was his visit to the Dirk Beaumont museum.

A little while later, Clark drove his hot rod into the west area of Dallas.

He drove west down Singleton Boulevard. He pulled over to his right and into the empty lot with a small building once the Star Service Station owned by Henry Barrow. This was Clyde Barrow’s childhood home.

Clark turned off his Ford engine.

He got out and stared at the old former home of Clyde Barrow. He expected to have a déjà vu feeling once he saw the place, but did not. So this again confirmed that he was not Clyde Barrow from a previous life.

He got back in his hot rod and drove off, heading east on Singleton.

Ten minutes later, Clark was headed south on Interstate 35. While he drove down the highway at seventy-five miles per hour, he started to think about that leather notebook he found in Wallace’s Cadillac and his notes on time travel.

Later that evening, Clark drove down Hampton Avenue.

He drove by the Thompson house and saw a 2010 Cadillac SRX backed into the driveway.

Then he saw that the lights were on inside the living room, and the garage door was opened.

“Someone moving in?” he said while he stopped his car in his driveway.

He pressed his garage door opener, clipped to his sun visor. While his garage door opened, he spotted thirty-two-year-old Kristy Cooper, with long blonde hair and a slender body, walking out of the garage.

He eyed her while she walked over and opened the rear hatch door of her SRX.

Clark couldn’t take his eyes off that beautiful and sexy lady, and he silently prayed she would be his new neighbor.

“Fresh meat,” he said while he watched Kristy, who didn’t notice Clark staring at her from his hot rod, close the rear hatch of her SRX and then walk inside her garage.

Her garage door closed.

Clark pulled his hot rod into his garage and closed the garage door.

Clark went inside his home with his backpack, and thoughts went between the Dirk Beaumont Museum and that sexy woman he wanted as his neighbor.

He went outside through the front door and headed to the mailbox by the street.

Clark opened his mailbox and eyed his new neighbor’s house for a sighting of Kristy. She was not visible.

He reached inside and pulled out his mail, which included a large vanilla envelope.

He took his mail back inside his house.

Once he got back inside, he went into the kitchen. He opened the large envelope and saw the two 1933 ten-dollar bills he ordered off eBay. He smiled over the addition of his collection of 1930s coins and currency.

Clark went to his refrigerator, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of Lone Star beer.

He took his two ten-dollar bills and headed to his den to relax from his weekend adventure.

Monday morning arrived.

Clark drove off to work and eyed the old Thompson house for the sighting of that sexy brunette. Her SRX was gone, and he got disappointed thinking she was the realtor.

He shrugged off thoughts about her while he drove his hot rod down Hampton Avenue.

Clark walked through the service department.

His eyes lit up when he spotted Sandy, who worked behind the counter, taking the customer’s payments.

“Hey, Sandy,” said Clark when he got near her and winked.

Sandy gave him a polite smile and walked away, rolling her eyes. She thought Clark was a creep and prayed every day he would not ask her out again. She sighed a sigh of relief when he didn’t ask her out.

She headed off behind the counter.

Clark entered the service bay, walked over, and unlocked his toolbox.

Roger walked up to him with a shit-eating grin. “Hey, Buddy, how was your weekend?” he asked Clark.

Clark noticed that grin on Roger’s face. “Looks like yours was spent under the sheets.”

“You bet. “Roger puffed out his chest three times with a shit-eating grin that grew broader.

“Lucky you. I went to Little Rock to see the Dirk Beaumont museum.”

“Man, you know, if you drop all this nineteen-thirties outlaw obsession, you just might get some pussy instead of Rosie Palm and her five sisters,” Roger suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” Clark said, unlocking his toolbox.

Roger walked away and headed to the other end of the service bay and over to his toolbox.

Clark had a busy day servicing six Cadillacs. After work, he left the service bay and returned to his hot rod.

He was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get home, plop his butt in his lazy boy chair and watch a couple of DVDs. He was also tired of hearing Roger brag about his command performances between the sheets all weekend. But in reality, he was extremely jealous of Roger’s conquest.

Clark got inside his hot rod and left the dealership parking lot.

While Clark drove down Hampton Avenue, he spotted a red Peterbilt semi-truck with a white enclosed trailer parked along the street in front of the old Thompson house. Clark needed to learn that it was the same Peterbilt he passed on Interstate 30 during his weekend adventure. After the driver made two deliveries in Dallas, he headed to Austin for his final delivery.

When Clark drove past the trailer, he spotted the trucker closing the rear door.

Clark pulled into the driveway. His eyes widened at something at his neighbor’s house. “She’s beautiful,” said Clark. At the same time, he stopped his hot rod in his driveway.

He spotted a pristine black 1933 Cadillac Madame X Sedan Cabriolet parked in his neighbor’s driveway.

Clark turned off his hot rod and got out of his pickup, keeping an eye on that old Cadillac.

That Peterbilt truck started up and drove off down Hampton Avenue.

Clark walked a little closer in his side yard.

The garage door opened of his neighbor’s house. Seventy-eight-year-old Dudley Cooper walked out of the garage and headed to the Cadillac. Dudley had a full head of pure white hair and was tall and lanky. He was once heavier but started to lose weight two years ago.

“She’s sure beautiful,” Clark called out from his sideyard, and his voice caught Dudley’s attention.

“Thank you,” Dudley replied while he walked over to the front of his Cadillac.

“Mind if I check her out?” called out Clark.

“Be my guest,” said Dudley as he spotted Clark’s hot rod in his driveway.

When Clark walked over to Dudley’s driveway, he noticed his Chamberlain Cadillac shirt. “You work at a Cadillac dealership?”

“Yes, sir. Chamberlain Cadillac is in town. I’m Clark Burrows.

One of their mechanics,” said Clark when he walked up to Dudley and extended his hand.

“Dudley Cooper,” he said. Then they shook hands, and Clark did not recognize the name.

Clark looked at the front of Dudley’s Cadillac. “Nineteen thirty-three Madame X Sedan Cabriolet.”

“You sure know your cars.”

“Oh yeah, I love antique cars.”

Dudley glanced at Clark’s Ford hot rod pickup parked in his driveway.

“Nineteen thirty-two Ford pickup.”

“You also know your antiques.”

“I do love them. They had class and beauty and were simple. Not like today’s fancy cars with computers and all those fancy gadgets.” Then Dudley’s eyes widened a little when he looked at Clark. “Have we met before? You look familiar all of a sudden.”

“Unless you had a Cadillac serviced at Chamberlain here in town.”

“No, we just moved here from Memphis. My wife Lynn died three years ago, then my daughter got a teaching job down here in Austin,” replied Dudley while he walked over and unlocked the driver’s door of his Cadillac. “Please take a peek inside.”

Clark salivated at that thought and walked over to the driver’s door.

He peeked inside at the pristine interior. “I won’t sit inside her and take a chance on getting it dirty,” he said while glancing at the dashboard and the front seat.

“I appreciate that,” and Dudley felt he could trust Clark being around his car.

Clark looked back at Dudley. “Four fifty-two cubic inch engine?”

“Yep,” said Dudley, then he closed the driver’s door and opened up one side of the engine compartment.

Clark saw the spotless V-16 engine and started to drool over that sight.

“I’m looking for a mechanic I can trust to help keep her in great running order.”

Clark smiled when looking back at Dudley. “I’m your man. I’ve been working on Caddy’s for ten years.”

“Good. She really needs a tune-up right now.” “I can work on her after I get some dinner.”

“Great. I’ll pay you cash at your hourly rate at the dealership if you work in my garage. I have your needed tools.”

“I’ll be my pleasure,” said Clark, extending his hand. They shook hands to seal the deal.

Clark couldn’t wait to get his hands on this beautiful machine. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said, then rushed off and returned to his house.

Dudley walked over and sat down behind the wheel.

He closed his driver’s door and started up the engine.

He drove his Cadillac into his garage and closed the door.

An hour had passed.

Clark rushed back over to Dudley’s house. He anxiously knocked on the front door.

The door opened, and Dudley appeared. “You ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Meet me at the garage door,” Dudley said, then closed his front door.

Clark walked away and waited by the garage door. The garage door soon opened.

“You’ll find the parts you need in that cabinet,”

Dudley said while he stood by the front of his Cadillac.

Clark went inside the garage and headed over to the cabinet. He opened it and saw spark plugs, spark plug wires, and other engine parts.

“Tools are in the toolbox. The key’s in the ignition,”

Dudley said, then he returned to his house.

Clark went straight to work on tuning up the V-16 engine.

Thirty minutes had passed, and Clark was installing the last spark plug when that 2010 Cadillac SRX pulled into and parked in the driveway.

Clark’s head was buried under the hood of Dudley’s Cadillac, and they didn’t notice Kristy while she got out of her SRX. Kristy walked around and opened the rear hatch of her SRX. She removed two cardboard boxes and fumbled with them while she closed the rear hatch.

She saw Clark working on Dudley’s Cadillac. “Excuse me.

What are you doing?” she asked when she stopped at the opened garage door.

Clark pulled his head out of from under the Cadillac’s hood. He saw Kristy standing in the garage door opening.

“He wanted me to tune up his Cadillac,” he said and became instantly smitten by the sight of Kristy.

Kristy fumbled with the two boxes and lost control. They dropped to the driveway. One of the boxes busted open, and some paperback books fell out.

Clark rushed over to Kristy, who bent down to pick up the books. He bent down and picked up one of the paperback books from the driveway.

Clark glanced at Kristy, loved her soft blue eyes, and then looked away.

He looked at the paperback book in his hand and saw it was The Life and Times of Dirk Beaumont by Dudley Cooper.

He stared at the book for a few seconds, and it suddenly dawned on him. “I have a copy of his book. It’s one of my favorites,”

he said while he stared at the cover with an old black and white picture of Dirk Beaumont in his suit, Fedora hat, and Thompson sub-machine gun in hand, looking mean.

“My daddy wrote it,” said Kristy.

It took a few seconds for it to dawn on Clark. “Your daddy wrote this book?” he said while he looked at the cover again.

“Yes.”

“The man inside is your daddy?”

“Yes,” Kristy repeated, wondering if this grease mechanic was daft.

Clark stood up.

“What happened?” asked Dudley, walking out of the garage.

“I dropped the boxes, and this guy helped. Did you tell him to tune up the car?”

“Yes, I did. He’s our neighbor and is a mechanic at the local Cadillac dealership.”

“I’m Clark Burrows.”

“Kristy Cooper,” she said while she grabbed the two boxes and stood up.

Clark looked at Dudley. “You wrote this book? It’s my favorite.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You did some great research on Dirk Beaumont.”

“Actually, it was easy. Dirk Beaumont was my daddy,”

replied Dudley.

It took a few seconds for that fact to dawn on Clark. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. “Dirk Beaumont was your father?”

Dudley nodded in agreement while Kristy rolled her eyes.

She couldn’t care less about her grandfather’s criminal past. “I’ll tell you what. No charge for tuning up your Cadillac if I can sit down and chat about your daddy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah!” beamed Clark with sparkles in his eyes, looking forward to speaking with a family member of Dirk Beaumont.

Kristy rolled her eyes again and walked through the garage to go inside the house with the two boxes.

“Is she done?”

“Let’s start her up and see how she runs.” Clark and Dudley walked over to the Cadillac.

Dudley sat inside and started up the engine. She purred like a kitten. He turned off the engine with a smile. “Come over tomorrow, and we’ll chat about Daddy.”

“What time?”

Dudley thought for a few seconds. “Oh, how about seven?”

“Deal,” said Clark, and he walked out of the garage and then headed over to his house with a spring in his step.

Later that night, Clark returned to his Lazy Boy chair and watched TV.

The 1960 movie The Time Machine, starring Rod Taylor, started playing.

Clark became interested in watching it while he recalled Wallace’s notebook in his Cadillac.

He watched that movie and recalled his earlier meeting with Dudley Cooper. He looked forward to hearing about Dirk Beaumont with him tomorrow evening.

Chapter 3

Clark woke up Tuesday morning and was anxious about going to work. He couldn’t wait for his planned chat with Dudley this evening.

This was the longest workday in Clark’s life. He kept watching the clock, and the more he stared at it, the more time slowed.

The workday ended, and Clark blew off Roger’s offer to hit the club that night, stating he wanted to stay home and watch some movies.

Clark left the dealership, and he roared his hot rod home.

He gulped down a microwave dinner and then changed his clothes.

When it was time, he ran over to Dudley’s home and tripped over his two feet, falling face-first into his grass.

After Dudley let Clark inside his living room, he sat on the couch. Clark was ready and anxious and looked at Dudley’s two cups of coffee on the coffee table.

Dudley left the living room, searching for something else he wanted to show Clark.

A few seconds passed, and Dudley walked back into his living room with an old work photo album three inches thick of family pictures.

Kristy walked into the living room and saw Dudley sitting on the couch.

“I’m going back to the campus.

I have a night class to teach,” she told Dudley from the living room archway.

“Okay, baby,” Dudley said while he picked up Clark and his coffee cup.

Clark looked at Kristy and wished she would join them.

“Where do you teach, Kristy?” he said, wanting to let her know he was interested in her life.

Kristy looked at Clark and thought he looked like a 1930s creep with that pencil-thin mustache, slicked-back haircut, and his black shirt and black pants outfit. “University of Texas,” she said, then headed off to the front door, not wanting to waste her time chatting with him.

“I have an uncle who teaches physics there. You might know him, Doctor Wallace Burns?”

“Sorry, I don’t,” replied Kristy without thinking, as she just wanted to leave the house.

Clark’s eyes followed Kristy through the living room, watching as she left through the front door.

Dudley noticed Clark’s eyes. “Kristy has been too involved with her professor duties to get involved with men,” he said, letting him know that he would not stand a chance if he had an itch to date his daughter.

“That’s too bad,” said Clark, then looked at Dudley and was ready to hear some history.

“Let’s get started with the reason you’re here. You probably already know most of this since you’ve read my book.

But I’ll repeat some of it and tell you some things I didn’t state in my book. So, Daddy was born on March twenty-fifth, nineteen eight, on a farm in the western side of Austin. My granddaddy worked in a sawmill, and grandma worked the farm growing vegetables. They weren’t dirt poor but not rich, either.

They were surviving and able to support five kids,” said Dudley, then he drank his coffee.

Clark drank his coffee and already knew this piece of history.

“Gus was the oldest brother, Sadie was next, Willy was after Sadie, Harold was after Willy, and then along came Dirk,”

said Clark. At the same time, he placed his cup back on the coffee table.

“Very good, now, since daddy was the youngest child, my granddaddy and grandma were in their late forties and exhausted from raising four other kids. So by then, Granddaddy became a heavy drinker as his boss at the sawmill was a total asshole and started treating his workers like shit. He made them

work twelve hours, six days a week. So granddaddy’s favorite drink became Moonshine,” said Dudley and took a drink of coffee.

“How did you learn about that side of your family history?”

“From my Uncle Willy. He told me about his family before he died in nineteen eighty-seven.”

Clark took a drink of coffee, as this was something he never read in Dudley’s book.

“Uncle Willy told me that Granddaddy would come home after drinking Moonshine after long hours at the sawmill and became meaner than a rattlesnake.

He would beat the boys with a belt for the slightest infraction. Uncle Gus ran away when he was sixteen and joined the Army at nineteen seventeen. He went off to the war in France to beat the Germans. Daddy loved Uncle Gus and missed him when he left. Then they got the news that Uncle Gus was killed in France, and that profoundly affected Daddy.

So after that, those frequent belt beatings started to make daddy mean and tough,” said Dudley, then he took a drink of his coffee.

Clark drank his coffee and started to feel sorry for Dirk’s younger life.

“So, when daddy was around twelve, he started hanging around with a kid named Butch Hanson during the summer of nineteen twenty. This kid was known to be a hooligan and also known by the cops as a petty thief. But Butch fascinated Daddy, and they became inseparable. So, they would break into homes in the middle of the night and steal food. Then they started stealing what little cash they could find in cookie jars or anything perceived as valuable. Back then, people didn’t lock their doors at night, so it was easy to quietly slip into someone’s house.”

“But didn’t some of those folks back then shoot first, then ask questions if you managed to stay alive?”

“You bet, and Daddy and Butch came close a few times to have their young lives ended. But they were lucky for some

reason,” Dudley said. Then he drank his coffee, and his cup was now empty. “Want some more?” he asked, holding up his cup.

Clark looked at his cup and noticed it was almost empty.

He picked it up and swallowed the rest. “Sure,” he said while he handed Dudley the cup.

With the coffee cups in hand, Dudley got up and headed into the kitchen.

While Dudley was in the kitchen, Clark’s curiosity started to nag at him, and he couldn’t resist that photo album.

He opened up the old photo album on the coffee table.

The first black-and-white picture he saw was of a young boy in overalls standing on the front porch of a small wooden farmhouse.

“That’s Daddy from when he was around eight years old,”

said Dudley when he walked up to the couch with the two coffee cups.

Clark continued to look at the picture and thought that that young boy seemed so innocent and not like a future outlaw. He flipped through the album and found a picture of Kristy when she was seven years old. He smiled at her picture, thinking she was adorable as a young girl. He closed the album and diverted his attention back to Dudley.

“So, by the time Daddy turned fifteen, his and Butch’s luck ran out. They robbed a grocery store, and Butch beat the crap out of the owner. The police caught Butch, but Daddy was able to slip away. Butch was sent to Eastham prison and never squealed that Daddy was with him. Apparently, the owner never saw Daddy in his store,” Dudley said while sitting back on the couch.

“What happened to him after he got out of prison?”

“Uncle Willy said after Butch got released, he joined the Marines swearing he never wanted to return to jail. He apparently changed his ways, loved the disciplined life the Marines offered, and made it a career. Uncle Willy heard that Butch died in forty-three in the South Pacific.”

Clark took another drink of coffee along with Dudley.

“You know that daddy’s first arrest came in twenty-six?”

“Yes. He robbed a gas station and beat the attendant when he refused to give him the money out of the cash register on July thirteenth. He was sent to Eastham prison,” said Clark, and then he had a drink of coffee.

“Yep.”

“Did you know that Daddy knew Clyde Barrow when he was inside Eastham?”

Clark’s eyes widen with extreme interest. “No, I never heard that.”

“I heard daddy thought Clyde was too small and didn’t respect him in the least.”

“Too bad they could have hooked up together after they got out of Eastham.”

“Never would have worked. You can’t have two bosses running a gang of outlaws. Besides, Daddy always thought Clyde was stupid for chopping off a toe to get out of prison, and at the same time, Bonnie and Clyde’s momma worked on getting Clyde released. Stupid!” said Dudley, then took a drink of coffee.

Clark also drank his coffee while Dudley drank so he wouldn’t miss anything. “I never knew Dirk met Clyde Barrow,”

he said, putting his cup down on the coffee table.

“Yeah, he did run into Bonnie once while the Barrow gang was on the run. I heard they met in the woods and spent the night. He actually thought Bonnie was a sexy dame and thought about stealing her away from Clyde,” Dudley added.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, but decided against that for some reason. Anyway, then you know that daddy got out of Eastham in the summer of nineteen thirty-one.”

Clark nodded that he knew that piece of history. “June twenty-third.”

“He got a job at the sawmill where my granddaddy worked.

He hated manual labor but tolerated it since he didn’t want to return to prison.”

“I read that the prisons back then here in Texas were brutal.”

“You got that right. Not like today, where prisoners have rights.”

“Anyway, the money Daddy made working at the sawmill was not going to give him the rich lifestyle he felt he deserved.

So in May of thirty-two, he started hanging around at night with some of the local hoods.”

“Peter Harrison, Carl Sommers, and Jerome Falk.”

“Yep,” said Dudley, then he took another drink of his coffee.

Clark took a drink of his coffee.

Dudley coughed a little and looked to be in a bit of pain.

Clark noticed and got concerned. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, now, so they started doing small jobs in the middle of the night where they felt they wouldn’t get caught. It created a little extra income but not very much.”

“I thought I read somewhere in a book or on the Internet that Peter’s grandfather made Moonshine?”

“That’s correct. So Daddy and his pals started selling that stuff to make extra cash. But it wasn’t enough for the immediate high score. So they went off one day and robbed a bank in Dallas on September fifteenth, thirty-two. They netted one thousand dollars and thought they were rich.”

“My family story is that my great-granddaddy made and sold Moonshine back during those times in Arkansas. My family from my daddy’s side comes from the Hainesville area. Great Granddaddy was still up in the Ozarks,” Clark stated, and then he took a drink of his coffee. “He was apparently killed by someone in May of thirty-five, and that killer was never caught or identified. Apparently, my grandfather witnessed the shooting but couldn’t identify the killer. He was just a young boy. I was handed down a photo of my great grandfather and grandfather standing by his Moonshine still a month before he was killed.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that,” said Dudley, then he took another drink of coffee. “So they headed up to Memphis to hide and party. That’s when Daddy met my mom, Margret

“Marge” Levitt.”

“That Saturday night on September seventeenth, thirty-two, at a club called Jazzy Land,” said Clark.

“That’s correct. That place was torn down back in sixty-three for an apartment complex.”

“I didn’t know that. Anyway, Daddy fell instantly in love with her,” said Dudley then he opened his photo album and turned to the next page.

Clark saw a picture of Dirk with his right arm around Marge’s shoulder.

“I’ve never seen this photo before.”

“It was taken that night Daddy met Mom at that club in Memphis,” said Dudley while he glanced at the photo. “She was a cocktail waitress and hated her job with a passion. Especially when she was forced to work as a prostitute for influential friends of the manager. The manager was a massive jerk and always groped her and often forced his sexual desires on Mom.

So she took up Daddy’s offer to run away with him. She left with him right after Daddy beat the crap out of the manager for groping her backside.”

“She didn’t know he just robbed a bank?”

“No, but she apparently found out after Daddy and his pals successfully pulled off their second job on the way back to Austin.”

“I’m surprised she stayed with him.”

“She was dirt poor and didn’t want to work as a cocktail waitress for the rest of her life. Daddy promised her she wouldn’t be with them during their heists.”

“She always stayed at the hideout.”

“Correct.”

“So Daddy and his gang successfully robbed banks, gas stations, and stores, and they started to make lots of money. So he wanted to give mom the rich life and went out and had her buy a thirty-three Cadillac from his earnings,” stated Dudley.

“I read that they would drive around that beautiful car while on the run to look like rich people as a cover,” said Clark, interrupting Dudley.

“That’s correct. Daddy figured that would help them escape and hide.”

“He bought a Cadillac just like the one you have. Is that why you bought one?”

“I didn’t buy one just like Daddy’s,” he said, then paused for a few seconds. “That’s my daddy’s real car. Uncle Willy bought the car when Mom was in prison. She didn’t want it, so he kept it in his barn for years. I had it restored six years ago.”

Clark’s mouth dropped to the floor when it suddenly dawned that he had tuned up Dirk Beaumont’s actual Cadillac.

The exact car Dirk and his gang used in the thirties. “Wow!”

Dudley turned to the back page of the photo album, and Clark’s eyes widened when he saw the original sales receipt for that Cadillac made out to Margret Levitt dated February twenty-first, 1933. The price was $6,175.83.

“That was a ton of money for a car back then.”

“That’s about when the Bureau of Investigation became aware of Daddy’s gang. They had their first kill during a bank robbery in Tulsa.”

“March ninth, thirty-three, a cop who walked in on the heist.”

“Uncle Willy claimed that daddy didn’t kill that cop, but Peter Harrison did, but both of them shot at the cop, so who knows.”

“The bullet.”

Dudley lightly chuckled. “Yep. So many people would be in deep yogurt if bullets could talk,” he added with another light chuckle. “Anyway,” he said, then coughed a little. “As you read in my book, they had more robberies and more killings during the next couple of years. They were among the many criminals added to Hoover’s most-wanted lists. And, of course, became headline news and romanced by Hollywood years later.”

“I have that movie they made about your daddy and his gang.”

“I saw it.”

“Not accurate like your book that I’ve read numerous times.”

“Why are you so fascinated with my daddy’s life?”

“I can’t explain why I’m fascinated by it and that era, for some strange reason,” Clark admitted.

“Interesting, that life of easy money went on for the next two years.

It ended on that day when Daddy’s gang robbed that bank in the Texas side of Texarkana,” said Dudley.

“There was a shootout in the street on May twenty-second, nineteen thirty-five. Peter and Jerome were killed. Carl was shot in the arm while they got in their stolen Ford coupe and drove away. Then, the Ford they used for the heist broke down, and Carl unsuccessfully tried to get it running. He was a lousy mechanic and always had the cars breaking down on them. So anyway, the Texarkana cops raced up in their Fords, and they got arrested,” said Clark, interrupting Dudley.

“That’s correct. If Carl was a better mechanic and didn’t screw up the car again, they might have gotten away. Then, the Texas Rangers arrested Mom for being an accessory. At the same time, she hid at an abandoned farm a few miles away.

Apparently, they got tipped off that she was there with Dirk Beaumont.”

“I read that some kids saw Dirk and the guys leaving for the robbery and told their parents,” said Clark.

“That’s correct. They probably never would have arrested Mom if it weren’t for that. They had reports of a female being with Daddy but could never identify her. Daddy was good about keeping her out of the news. So then, after she was in prison for her first two months, she learned she was pregnant with me. She spent a year in jail, and that’s where I was born.

They released her, and she moved me to live with her mother in Oklahoma City in the fall of thirty-six.”

Clark read that piece of history and was in awe. He was sitting with that baby, all grown up and now old.

“So Uncle Willy told me that momma took me and visited Dirk in Eastham two months before he was scheduled to be in the electric chair in thirty-seven. I was barely one year old and don’t recall that day. But she wanted him to see his son. Then,

three weeks after that, Daddy managed to escape from Eastham.”

“Did your mom give Dirk information to help him escape?”

“I believe she did.”

Clark took a drink of coffee while Dudley took a drink of coffee.

“I read he beat the crap out of a guard, took his gun, and then that mystery man helped him get out of Texas. It’s strange how they never learned who this mystery man was,” said Clark, and Dudley nodded in agreement.

“Uncle Willy told me he helped Daddy get out of Texas.

He was surprised that the law didn’t learn about that. He said that Daddy told him that he didn’t kill anybody and that the law was framing him for murders he didn’t commit. Uncle Willy believed him. That’s why he helped his brother escape the electric chair.”

“But didn’t they immediately stake out your family’s homes for sightings of Dirk?”

“The law came and questioned momma and staked out grandma’s house for months. And they also staked out the homes of Uncle Willy, Uncle Harold, and Aunt Sadie. But Dirk never showed up, so they figured he was hiding somewhere else.

But they were clueless as to where.”

“I guess it was easier to live under another name back in those days with forged papers. Not like today with the Internet, cell phones, and social media helping the law,” said Clark.

Dudley nodded in agreement. “Daddy was smart enough to know he had to leave the area, so he headed out to Los Angeles.”

“I guess he figured living way over there would distance him from this area to increase his chances of staying out of the electric chair.”

“As my book stated, the Bureau thought that Roscoe Thomas in Dallas had given Dirk forged papers for a new identity. But Roscoe could take any beating the cops dished out

and not squeal. He had a profitable secret business to protect and punches to the face, and his stomach was worth the pain.”

“Tough guy.”

“Yeah, then momma married Kurt Cooper, a traveling salesman in the winter of nineteen thirty-eight, and he became the only father figure I had. He was really nice to me. She figured that if she remarried, the cops wouldn’t come looking for Daddy in Oklahoma City.”

“What about those meetings in the woods with Dirk when you were a kid?”

“The first one I recalled was when I was three years old in the summer of thirty-eight. Momma drove me to Wichita, Kansas. We met in a field and had a picnic. It was wonderful, and at that time, I didn’t know he was a famous criminal,” said Dirk with a smile recalling that fond memory.

“How did Marge keep these secret meetings from her husband?”

“She waited until he went away on one of his sales trips across the country.”

“Then Roscoe died in February of thirty-nine from brain cancer.

That’s when the cops in Dallas found his hidden ledger under the floor of his bed. That book had the names of fugitives with their new identities. They had Daddy’s new name, Wilbur Jenson. I then realized that that man we’d been meeting in the woods all those times was my daddy, Dirk Beaumont. I saw his picture on the cover of one of those Detective magazines at the local drug store.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t tell your friends.”

“Momma told me that if I told anybody, Daddy would be killed. So I kept my mouth shut. After all, he was nice to me when we met.”

“Your book also stated that you and Marge met with Dirk on April 4, nineteen forty, just before he was killed in Little Rock.”

“We did. We met Daddy outside Little Rock. He stated he was staying at the Sanders Motel in town using the name of.”

“Robert Caldwell. I went there this weekend. I saw where he signed the guest book under that name,” interrupted Clark.

“That’s correct. We met Daddy at a secluded place in the woods about two miles outside Little Rock. I remembered him telling Mom that he had rounded up some old prison buddies, and they were going back to the easy, profitable way of making a living. He wanted her to come back to him. Momma was furious and didn’t want to subject me to a life on the run. But Dirk insisted that that was his only choice to make a living. He said he loved her and couldn’t bear the thought of not being with her. He promised that they would never get caught this time. Momma was still furious, so she grabbed me by the hand and rushed me away. We drove back to Oklahoma City, and she cried during most of the drive. Then, we learned about the shootout on the radio the next day. She cried even harder.”

“Did your mom ever find out who made that anonymous call to the Little Rock police about Dirk staying in that motel in town?”

Dudley glanced over at Clark.

Clark could see it in his eyes that he knew the answer to that question.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Do you know?”

Dudley looked away from Clark. “No.”

Clark could sense Dudley knew but was going to keep that his secret. He decided not to press for an answer.

“Well, that about does it for daddy’s history. Why don’t we take a ride in my Cadillac? I’ll let you drive her.”

Clark’s eyes widened, and a huge grin grew on his face, as driving that antique would be a dream come true.

A little while later, Clark drove Dudley’s 1933 Cadillac down Hampton Avenue, and he looked like a kid who had just opened his dream present on Christmas morning.

Dudley sat in the passenger seat and coughed a few times.

Dudley got concerned when he saw a little blood in his hand.

He discreetly wiped it on the outside of his black pants.

Clark was too excited about driving the car to notice Dudley. He pretended he had Dirk Beaumont and his gang inside the car, and they were driving away from a recent heist.

“What would have happened if Dirk had never been arrested that day and sent to prison? Could he have lived a long life under another identity?”

Dudley glanced over at Clark. “No, they all eventually get caught or shot.”

“Or maybe not. Look at the theory that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid didn’t actually die during that shootout in Bolivia. Or that Billy the Kid wasn’t killed by Pat Garrett.”

Dudley rolled his eyes that Clark believed his dad could have lived a long life outside prison.

After thirty minutes of a quiet drive around the streets of Austin in that gorgeous piece of machinery, Clark drove past the Chamberlain Cadillac dealership.

After all, this was where Marge bought the car for Dirk back in 1933. This was one of the reasons Clark wanted a job as a mechanic at that dealership. As a teenager, He read that fact in another book about Dirk years ago.

Clark eventually drove back to Dudley’s home and parked the Cadillac in Dudley’s garage.

After thanking Dudley for a great informative time, Clark returned to his home with a spring in his step.

He went back inside and kicked back in his lazy boy chair.

He immediately started watching his Dirk Beaumont the Fedora Outlaw DVD again.

He thought about Dudley’s talk about his daddy while watching the movie.

Chapter 4

Wednesday morning arrived, and Clark woke up at his usual time of five-thirty in the morning.

He shaved, showered, and then headed to the kitchen for his standard breakfast of coffee and cereal. He loved his Cocoa Krispies to start his day off with working on the cars.

Clark arrived at Chamberlain Cadillac at six forty-five in the morning, the standard starting time for the mechanics.

He walked to his toolbox, unlocked it, and was ready to begin keeping other Cadillacs in tip-top condition.

Roger approached Clark’s toolbox with coffee in a Styrofoam cup in hand.

“Hey buddy, you didn’t miss much last night at the club.

The pickings were extremely slim and weren’t worthy under the sheets. I guess the hot chicks were too busy doing homework or getting fucked in their dorm rooms.”

So, how was your night of watching movies?” he asked, then sipped his coffee.

“It was good and relaxing.”

“Thirties outlaw movies, I can imagine.”

“Yep,” Clark replied but wanted to keep it a secret that he chatted with his neighbor, the son of a famous outlaw.

Clark’s first assignment of the day arrived, and it was a brake job on a silver 2005 STS.

But while he worked on the brakes of that Cadillac, all he could think about was his discussion with Dudley last night.

So, during the rest of the day, Clark couldn’t get Dirk Beaumont’s life and time travel out of his mind. He was so preoccupied with those thoughts that he scrapped his knuckles a few times in the close quarters of the engine compartments.

The workday at the service department of Chamberlain Cadillac was wrapping up.

All the mechanics were finishing their jobs on the customer’s cars.

Clark just finished replacing a water pump on a 1983

Cadillac Deville.

He stood at his Craftsman toolbox and wiped his wrenches clean.

“Hey buddy, want to head out to the club for a few drinks tonight?” asked Roger the second he walked up to Clark.

Clark closed and locked his toolbox, then looked at Roger.

“Nah, there’s something I need to do.”

“What’s more important than chasing after some hot college pootang?”

“The hot college professor that lives next to me.”

It took a few seconds for that to register in Roger’s head.

He smiled. “Look at you chasing after some teacher snatch. I hope she gives your performance an A-plus,” he chuckled.

Clark smiled, thinking about Kristy. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Well, good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Roger said.

“You too,” replied Clark while Roger walked away.

Then Roger turned around and looked back at Clark.

“Hey, if she doesn’t put out tonight, I guess you’ll have to resort to an orgy with Rosie Palm and her five sisters,” he said. Then he closed his eyes, got a satisfied smile on his face, motioned he was jerking off with his right hand, and chuckled.

Betty walked through the service bay. She rolled her eyes the second she saw Roger being Roger again.

“Creep!” she said, then headed out to the customer waiting area. Clark waited until Betty was not in sight, then flipped Roger off, as they both did to each other jokingly.

Roger walked off with a chuckle while Clark walked off in another direction.

Clark drove home in his hot rod, and his thoughts flipped back and forth between Kristy, Dudley’s discussion last night, and his Uncle’s notebook on time travel.

At seven that night, Clark gulped down a microwavable Salisbury steak dinner with mashed potatoes and corn.

He rushed out his front door and headed to Dudley’s home.

There was something he forgot to tell him last night about his family.

He knocked on Dudley’s front door the second he arrived on the front stoop.

After a few seconds of waiting, the front door opened, and Kristy appeared at the front door. She rolled her eyes at the sight of Clark outside on the stoop.

Clark smiled at the sight of Kristy, and his heart pounded a little. “What do you want?” asked Kristy, looking perturbed that she was interrupted.

“Ah, I was wondering,” he stuttered as he suddenly urged Kristy out, but asking her scared him to death.

Kristy raised her eyebrows and looked impatient for Clark to explain why he was at her door.

“I ah, I would like to chat with your daddy.”

“He’s not feeling well tonight and taking a nap, so if you don’t mind, I have some papers to grade,” he said, then closed the front door, relieved he didn’t ask her out.

Clark stared at the closed door and then heard it being locked.

He was disappointed while he moped away and headed back to his house.

Once Clark returned to his home, he headed to the kitchen.

He went to the refrigerator and removed a bottle of Lone Star beer. He opened the bottle and then headed off to his den.

Once Clark went into his den, he grabbed his The Life and Times of Dirk Beaumont by Dudley Cooper book out of the bookcase.

He headed over to his Lazy Boy chair and sat down. He started to read that book again for the tenth time while drinking his beer. Then his eyes widened up with an idea. It was a great idea. He jumped up out of his chair and rushed out of his den.

Clark had backed his hot rod out of his garage, down his driveway, and roared down Hampton Avenue.

Clark drove east of the city limits of Austin on the two-lane road called Maple Road.

During the drive, he drove past a Mexican restaurant called

“Hugo’s,” in an old one-story building built in 1928. Jimmy Purcell originally built this building for his place of business,

“Jimmy’s Country Cooking.”

He turned left into the dirt driveway of an old farmhouse.

It was Uncle Wallace’s farmhouse or the old family home.

This farmhouse and barn had been in his family since his great-great-grandfather built it in 1908. He had the help of his great-grandfather Victor, who was twelve years old, and his much older brothers Wally and Herbert. The home was a two-story wood-framed home with four bedrooms and one bath. It had a lovely front porch where Wallace would often sit in a wooden rocking chair while he read his books on physics or jotted down notes and thoughts about time travel. The barn was your typical barn and wasn’t fancy.

His Uncle Wallace never moved out of the house and inherited it after his parents died. In fact, Wallace never left Austin during his entire life. He went to the University of Texas in Austin straight out of high school. Since his parents weren’t wealthy, he worked two part-time jobs to pay for his Bachelor of Science in Physics with a minor in history and then his Master of Science in Physics.

He then accepted a teaching position with the University of Texas to stay in Austin. While he taught the introductory physics course, he worked on his Doctorate in Physics.

Clark drove down the dirt driveway, then parked his hot rod pickup next to Wallace’s Cadillac. He shut off his engine and got out of the hot rod. He stared at the farmhouse and wondered how he would approach the topic of time travel with his Uncle.

He walked to the front porch, rehearsing his tactic to discreetly bring up time travel.

Clark walked up the steps to the front porch, then headed to the front door.

He stared at it, got nervous, chickened out, and turned around.

Clark walked off the front porch halfway down the steps and stopped; his curiosity went into high gear, and he couldn’t resist.

He turned around, rushed back up the steps, across the porch, back to the front door, and then took a deep breath of courage the second he got back to the front door.

He quickly knocked before he chickened out again and soon heard footsteps inside the living room, walking to the door.

“I’m coming,” called out Wallace.

The front door was heard being unlocked, and it opened.

“Clark, what a nice surprise,” said Wallace the second he saw his nephew. “What brings you here?”

Clark looked at his Uncle and ran his rehearsed lines in his head. “Is time travel really possible, Uncle Wallace?” he blurted out, blowing his attempt to carefully bring up that topic.

Wallace was taken aback by Clark’s sudden question out of the blue. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. “Ah,” he said, then hesitated.

Then, it dawned on him that Clark had recently worked on his car. “I left my notebook in the car. I take it you took a peek?”

Clark knew he had to be honest. “Yes, I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re just like your mother; she was always curious about everything.

Please come inside,” said Wallace, then he moved aside.

Once Clark stepped inside the living room, he looked at the furniture there since Wallace was a kid.

Looking around the room made Clark feel like he stepped back into the 1930s. He saw the old framed black and white photos of his great-grandfather, great-grandmother, grandfather, and young pictures of Wallace and his parents.

Clark then eyed the old furniture, probably bought by his great-grandmother.

Wallace wanted to save money on replacing perfectly good furniture. He tried to save money for his physics experiments.

Clark saw the old wooden Zenith console radio. He wondered if this antique furniture would look good in his house one day.

He glanced over at Wallace. “I hope you don’t mind me taking a peek at your notebook?”

“No. I was trying to figure out how to tell you about my invention. So, I kinda left it out knowing you would take a peek,” said Wallace.

“You wanted me to look at your notebook?”

Wallace nodded in agreement with a little smile.

Then, something his Uncle said dawned on Clark.

“Invention. What invention?” he asked but had a strong hunch about where his Uncle was going with these questions.

“I built a time machine.”

It took a few seconds for it to dawn on Clark. “A time machine? You built a time machine?”

Wallace nodded with a proud grin while he thought about his achievement.

“Want to go see it?”

Clark’s eyes widened over that offer.

“Let’s go,” said Wallace, then opened the front door.

Clark and Wallace walked out of the house and across the porch.

“I’m still amazed by how you changed Granddaddy’s pickup truck. I think he would have loved to drive it all hopped up,” said Wallace while he and Clark walked down the porch steps.

Clark smiled with what was probably his thousandth compliment over his hot rod.

Wallace and Clark turned left, walked through the sideyard, and headed to the barn.

They got to the barn’s doors, Wallace unlocked it, and then went inside.

It had been years since Clark was inside this barn. He believed the last time was when he was seven years old, and his

Mom drove him down to Austin to spend a few days with Wallace and his grandparents.

He looked around and remembered those two tables resembling a chemistry lab, recalling Wallace’s strict orders not to play in the barn. “It’s too dangerous here,” he recalled his Uncle warning him many years ago. And his Mom agreed with Wallace’s strict orders. But if Wallace knew the truth, Clark had managed to sneak into the barn late at night to satisfy his curiosity cravings.

Clark and Wallace walked over to that locked room. Clark never saw that room before, as it wasn’t there when he snuck into the barn as a kid.

Clark looked anxious while Wallace unlocked the door and swung it open.

“Here’s my masterpiece,” he said, motioning for Clark to enter the room.

Clark stepped inside the room. His eyes widened at the sight of the time machine. “It looks like a nineteen-fifties style flying saucer.”

“I know. For some reason, I was drawn to that style of design. Maybe it was from all those sci-fi movies I watched from the early fifties when I was a kid.”

Clark walked around the time machine and checked it out.

“What powers it?” he asked, peeking in the bubble canopy.

“Oh, that’s my secret. Maybe I will send it to you after I’m gone.”

Clark glanced at his Uncle and then back at the time machine.

He looked back at Wallace, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. He chuckled. “You had me fooled for a few seconds,” he said while he chuckled, looking back at the time machine, then tapping on the body and hearing a metallic sound.

“She’s built solid.”

“Because she actually works.”

Clark looked at his Uncle’s earnest eyes. For a split second, he believed him, and then his common sense took over. “Yeah, right,” he said, then chuckled.

“No, I have proof. I can show you,” said Wallace, then motioned for Clark to leave the room with him.

Clark decided to play along and followed Wallace out of the room.

After Wallace locked the room door, they headed out of the barn.

Wallace locked the barn’s side door, and they returned to his house.

Clark and Wallace went inside the house and headed into his study.

Once they got to his study, Wallace rushed to his iMac computer and sat at the desk.

He powered up his iMac and waited with a grin. He couldn’t wait to share with someone his accomplishment, as he had a hard time keeping this a secret all to himself.

Once his iMac was powered up and ready, Wallace opened up a “Test Run” folder.

Clark saw a movie clip file titled “Test Run 1” and another one titled “D741 Test 2.”

Wallace double-clicked on the “Test Run 1” movie clip file.

The VLC Media Player opened, and the movie showed Wallace’s time machine in that room in the barn. The movie then showed Wallace leaning into the time machine where the canopy was flipped up, and the small doors on the sides of the machine were opened.

The movie showed Wallace configuring the console inside the time machine.

Wallace pushed the canopy down, and it closed at the same time the small doors on the sides closed.

Wallace walked out of view of the camera.

Clark watched the movie clip where the time machine’s engine started to hum.

The humming got louder and was ear-piercing even on the movie clip.

The time machine started slowly spinning, but half of the bottom connected to the landing legs stayed stationary.

The spinning got faster.

Then, the time machine started to spin at hypersonic speed.

Clark stared in awe while psychedelic colors filled the glass of the time machine.

The time machine rose up off the ground by three inches.

The landing legs retracted into the bottom of the machine.

The time machine whirled around at hypersonic speed three feet off the ground.

Clark saw the time machine disappear in a poof, raining a million pieces of red, white, blue, green, and yellow lights everywhere. The colored lights dissolved into thin air.

“It works!” Wallace cried out in joy on the movie clip out of view of the camera.

Then Clark saw Wallace come into view doing a dorky victory dance. He danced to the spot where his time machine once stood.

Clark lightly chucked over the sight of his Uncle dancing.

Then, in the video, a humming sound came out of nowhere.

Wallace rushed out of the camera view.

That humming sound got louder and ear-piercing, but nobody was around to be in pain.

Millions of tiny pieces of red, white, blue, green, and yellow lights appeared racing all over the place.

The colored lights converged into one spot in the air. The time machine reappeared in a poof.

It whirled at a hypersonic speed three feet above the ground.

The spinning of the time machine slowed down.

The bottom part of the machine is locked into a stationary position. The four landing legs extended out of the machine, and it settled down to the ground.

The humming sound started to get softer.

The spinning of the machine slowed down and stopped.

The time machine was again quiet.

The movie clip ended, and the Window Media Play went black.

Clark glanced over at Wallace with his mouth open. “I don’t believe it.”

“Here’s a test run to make you believe,” said Wallace, then double-clicking that “D741 Test 2” movie clip file.

The VLC Media Player opened, and Wallace, who had secretly recorded the movie a week before, started to play.

Clark watched in awe when the clip showed his grandfather, Ernie, and his great-grandfather, Victor, sitting in wooden rocking chairs in front of that brown wooden Zenith console radio. The same radio that was in Wallace’s living room.

On the couch sat his great-grandmother Alice beside his grandmother Kim, holding a four-month-old Wallace in her arms.

Clark saw that baby Wallace was sound asleep while the CBS news was telling everybody about the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor. Ernie and Victor looked pissed overhearing the horrible news.

Clark continued to watch the movie clip in awe. “I don’t believe it. I really don’t believe it,” he said, glancing at Wallace.

Wallace’s eyes welled up. “It’s true. That’s me as a baby,”

he said, then wiped away some tears while they rolled down his cheeks.

Clark looked back at the movie clip. It ended. He grabbed the mouse and clicked on the play button on the VLC Media Player window.

He watched the clip again and knew those were the same relatives in the pictures on the wall of Wallace’s living room.

“Unbelievable. The living room looks exactly the same as today.”

“Yep.”

Clark replayed the movie clip again and watched in awe.

The clip ended. “So, what are you going to use the time machine for? To change the time? To stop wars? To solve mysteries?” he asked while he glanced at Wallace.

“No. You must never go back and change the course of time. It is what it is,” replied Wallace, and Clark could see the seriousness in his eyes.

“Then why build it?” replied Clark, who thought that his Uncle wasted his time and money to build this machine just to go back and see himself as a baby.

“I want to use it to record history as it happened.”

Clark looked at Wallace. “Record history?”

“Yes. You know, go back and take a picture of George Washington. See if he really looked like that guy on the dollar bill. Record some of his daily activities. Record an actual battle of the Revolutionary War. I could video George Washington crossing the Delaware River. Or video life at Valley Forge.”

“Record history,” Clark said under his breath, thinking that that was an annoying reason.

“I plan on going on my first mission. Want to tag along?”

It took Clark a few seconds to hear what he asked. “Did you say go on a mission?”

“Yep.”

” Where, when?”

Wallace thought about his response for a few seconds. “I haven’t given it much thought, actually,” he said, then paused for a few seconds while he wondered where he could go. “Maybe not too far back in time for a second test run.

Stay a little longer instead of a few minutes like what you saw in the movie clip.”

Clark thought about it for a few seconds. “Let me think of a time and place.”

Wallace thought about Clark’s response for a few seconds.

“Sure. Get with me tomorrow night.”

“Okay. I’ll come over tomorrow after dinner,” said Clark, who already had an era to witness.

Wallace smiled, and then he walked Clark out of his study.

After Clark left the farmhouse and got inside his hot rod, he could only think about where and when he could go. Those two questions filled his mind while he drove down the dirt driveway.

He turned right and drove off down Maple Road toward town.

After Clark drove a few miles down the road, he started to enter the city limits of Austin.

After he drove through to the western side of Austin, he turned left on Fairmont Avenue and headed west.

Clark drove two miles down Fairmont, then turned right into the parking lot of an old strip mall.

He parked his car in the first available parking spot and stepped outside.

Clark looked around the mall that was built in the late 1950s. What had intrigued him about his mall ever since he moved to Austin was that this was once the exact spot of the small Beaumont farm and home. This spot was the very home where Dirk Beaumont was born and raised.

Clark often had one of his books about Dirk with him, which showed that old farm and house. He often visualized that house as the location of that old strip mall.

Clark got back in his hot rod and drove off through the parking lot.

He headed back east on Fairmont Avenue.

A little while later, Clark was back home and in his kitchen.

He opened another Lone Star beer.

He entered his den, relaxed in his Lazy Boy chair, drank beer, and read The Life and Times of Dirk Beaumont.

After he read a few pages, he jumped out of his Lazy Boy chair.

He rushed out of his den and down the hallway.

He rushed into his bedroom. He rushed over to his dresser and grabbed his cell phone.

He turned it on and anxiously waited. He immediately navigated through his contacts and made a call.

” Hello Clark, why the sudden call?” Wallace answered.

“I think we should go back to the nineteen-thirties.”

There were a few seconds of silence on his cell phone.

“Why the nineteen-thirties?”

“I’m fascinated with that era.”

“You mean with those gangsters from that time, according to your Mom.”

“I know, but I want to see what it was like to live back then.”

“You can’t go talking or associating with any gangsters.”

“I won’t.”

“You can only observe them from a distance. And I mean, don’t get within fifty feet. Trying to change the course of history can be extremely dangerous.”

“I will.”

There were a few seconds of silence. “Okay, I’ll let you pick the date, and we’ll plan tomorrow night.”

“I’ll come over tomorrow night,” Clark said with a sparkle in his eyes, and then he disconnected his end of the call.

Clark put his cell phone back down on the top of the dresser.

He walked out of his bedroom with a spring in his step.

He danced down the hallway and back to the den.

He sat back in his Lazy Boy chair and returned to his book to pick a reasonable time in the 1930s. He had a huge smile.

An hour passed, and Clark rushed over to his Dell desktop.

He pressed the power button.

After his Dell computer was powered and ready, he started to surf the Internet for articles about Dirk Beaumont.

Chapter 5

Clark woke up at his usual time for work on Thursday morning.

He shaved and showered, and all he had on his mind was what he had witnessed last night at his Uncle’s house. “A time machine! He built a time machine!” he said repeatedly in his head.

So instead of getting dressed in his Chamberlain Cadillac work uniform, Clark dressed in his black pants and black shirt and donned his black Fedora hat.

Clark walked over to his dresser.

He saw his cell phone, car keys, and The Life and Times of Dirk Beaumont book on the top of his dresser. He grabbed his cell phone and punched in a phone number.

“Chamberlain Cadillac, service department, Tim Noone speaking,” Clark’s boss answered the call.

“It’s me, Clark Burrows. Listen,” he said into his cell phone, then hesitated while thinking about what he would tell his boss. He didn’t think this one out before he made the call.

“I’ll be out today. I’m sick,” he blurted out in a hurry.

“Well, if you have a runny nose, I don’t care if you drip snot on these greasy engines. It won’t harm them at all,” replied Tim jokingly.

“No, it’s not that, I ate something last night that didn’t agree with my stomach.

I have food poisoning. I can’t work on cars if I’m always running to the bathroom, you know,” he said, and the more he thought about it, the more he knew that was a perfect excuse.

“Food poisoning, you say?” replied Tim.

“Yeah, listen, if I don’t run to the bathroom this second, I will have a huge mess in my pants. I should be back tomorrow,”

replied Clark, then disconnected from the end of the call.

He had a smile, then looked concerned and wondered if he screwed up and would get fired.

But then he remembered he hadn’t called in sick during the past three years, so he should be in good shape for still having a job. Clark shoved his cell phone into his pants pocket, grabbed his car keys, and took the book off the top of the dresser.

He left his bedroom and looked like he was on a critical mission.

A little while later, after his house was secured, Clark drove his Ford pick-up hot rod north on Interstate 35, headed toward the big city of Dallas. He listened to one of his CDs, and Glenn Miller’s In The Mood song played. He whistled along with the first trumpet part.

Later that morning, Clark roared his hot rod east on Interstate 30, headed toward Texarkana. On his CD, he listened to The Very Thought Of You by Billy Holliday. He sang along with the song and knew all the words.

After Clark drove closer to Texarkana, he headed south on Interstate 369. He listened to Caravan by Duke Ellington on his CD. It wasn’t long before Clark drove down the Lake Drive exit on Interstate 369.

He turned off his CD player while driving down the exit ramp and turned left on South Lake Drive.

He stopped at the red light, grabbed the Google map he printed out, and then waited for the light to turn green.

He studied the map to guide him to his destination, drove down that road, and turned right on South Kings Highway.

He drove down that road then he turned right on Wainwright Blvd.

He drove down that road then he turned right on Finley Blvd. Clark drove back east on Finley Blvd, and after a quarter of a mile, he made a U-turn.

He immediately pulled off the side of the road where there was a Historical Marker on the shoulder. Clark turned off his engine and then stepped out of his hot rod.

He walked over to the Historical Marker.

“Public Enemy Dirk Beaumont and Associate Carl Sommers Were Arrested at this Spot After Robbing the First National Bank in Texarkana, Texas on May Twenty-Second, Nineteen Thirty-Five. Their Getaway Car Broke Down Enabling the Texarkana Police to Catch Up With the Criminals,”

was the wording on the marker.

“I need to do what it takes to get rid of this marker,” he said, looking around the area. He reached into his pants pocket and removed his iPhone. He navigated through his contacts and made a call.

“You have reached Dr. Burns. I’m sorry, but I’m unavailable, as I’m probably teaching young minds. Please leave a message, and I will get back to you as soon as I can.

Thank you,” said Wallace’s recorded phone message from the University.

“Uncle. I think we should go back to nineteen thirty- five.

I’ll explain later. I’m going to go get us some money to use for the trip,” Clark recorded his message while he looked at that historical marker.

He looked determined and shoved his iPhone back into his pants pocket, then rushed back into his hot rod.

He started up his engine and then pulled back onto Finley Street.

He roared his hot rod pick-up down the road and looked determined.

Ten minutes passed, and Clark turned ninety degrees and ended on Wainwright Blvd.

He turned left, then west, headed down that road, which soon turned into Will Smith Road.

He drove down Will Smith Road, then turned right on Clara Road.

He drove south down Clara Road, then turned left on Eylau Loop Road.

He drove south down Eylau Loop Road and turned right on Gun Club Road.

He headed east on Gun Club Road and pulled off to the side of the road the second he saw a farmhouse to the right.

He stared at that farmhouse that had been renovated ten years ago. That farmhouse was the last known hideout of the Dirk Beaumont gang.

Clark made a U-turn and then headed west on Gun Club Road.

He retraced his tracks to head back to the Interstate in Texarkana.

Fifteen minutes later, Cla,rk drove his hot rod west on Interstate 30.

All he could think about was how he would react during his first encounter with Dirk Beaumont in 1935. He thought positively that if he went back in time, he could meet his hero.

He practiced his greeting with the famous outlaw.

“Hello Dirk, I’m so and so. How are you?” he said. Then, I thought about that greeting. “Nah,” he said, then thought of another greeting for a few seconds.

“Mister Beaumont, I’m so and so. Can I join your gang?”

he said, then thought about that greeting. “Nah, he’ll probably shoot me on the spot,” he said, then thought of another greeting for a few seconds.

“Mister Beaumont. I really need a job. Would you hire me as a driver? I know how to keep my mouth shut, and I’m an excellent mechanic,” he said, then thought about that greeting for a few seconds. “That’s more like it,” he smiled, thinking that was the perfect greeting.

He drove down the street a little farther. His eyes widened when he forgot something. “What name will I use?” he asked, then pondered briefly. “Should I use my own name? What about identification? I can’t use my driver’s license.” Clark wondered how he could solve that little problem. Then his eyes widened when he remembered a place in Dallas that might help his dilemma.

He turned on his CD player. The Moonlight Serenade song by Glenn Miller started playing.

Clark whistled along with the tune while he roared his hot rod down Interstate 30.

Later that day, Clark visited Melvin’s Antique Emporium.

He often frequented the store because of the 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s antiques. This was the store where he bought his 1931 Crosley console radio he keeps in his den.

Clark walked around, looking at the display cases.

He stood at a case and looked at a display case with 1940s toys. His iPhone rang from his pocket.

He removed his iPhone and saw Wallace was calling.

“Uncle. You got my message,” he answered the call.

“Yeah, and why nineteen thirty-five?” Wallace replied from the iPhone.

“Well, I was thinking how cool would it be to go around Austin, snap a bunch of pictures, then write a historical book about the town during the mid-thirties,” Clark said walking away from that display case and headed over to another one.

There was a moment of silence from his iPhone while he walked up to the other display case.

“I would like to visit the campus from that time. Doctor Elmer Evans was a great physicist of that day. He retired at forty-five and then died the next year from a car accident. He spent a brief moment with Albert Einstein out in California.

I’ve always wanted to chat with him about his time with Albert,”

replied Wallace, then he paused for a few seconds. “Thirty-five would be good,” he said, then paused for a few more seconds.

“Now, I know you, so I don’t want you venturing off all by yourself and then getting yourself into trouble,” he said, sounding dead serious.

“Trouble? How can I get myself into trouble?”

“I know you and your obsession. I’m imposing a strict requirement that you stay by my side the whole time. I’ll introduce you as one of my students,” said Wallace, again sounding serious.

Clark saw an old driver’s license in the display case next to an old leather pistol shoulder harness. “I will,” he said, then smiled at the sight of the license and listened to Wallace repeat the requirements for time traveling. “I will, Uncle Wallace.”

“Now that that’s settled. I’ll need some time to prepare for the trip. Be at my house by eight tomorrow night, and then we’ll leave.”

“Eight tomorrow night. Got it,” said Clark. Then, he disconnected the call and motioned to the sales clerk to say he wanted her assistance.

He shoved his iPhone in his pants pocket while a middle-aged sales clerk named Melvin approached the display case. He was the owner of this store.

“Can I help you?” asked Melvin.

“I’m interested in that driver’s license,” he said, pointing to the license in the case.

Melvin smiled, then unlocked the back door of the display case, slid the one door open, reached inside, and grabbed the license. He handed Clark the driver’s license, which was placed in a protective plastic sleeve.

Clark looked at the license and saw it was for Jacob Johnson of 1357 Oak Avenue, Fort Worth, Texas, and dated 1932. He smiled and knew this was perfect. “I’ll take it,” he said and could care less that the price was twenty dollars.

Melvin locked up the display case. “I’ll ring that up for you.” “That’s all right, I’m going to look for some currency between nineteen thirty and thirty-five.”

“We have a selection over there,” Melvin replied, pointing in another direction of the store.

Clark walked away from the display case, and Melvin followed.

Ten minutes passed.

After buying that driver’s license, Clark left the store with two five-dollar bills dated 1932 and a ten-dollar bill dated 1933.

He got in his hot rod and drove south back to Austin.

Instead of driving straight to his home, Clark drove through town and headed to his Uncle’s farm.

He drove his hot rod down Maple Road and passed Wallace’s dirt driveway.

He drove farther down the road and stopped a quarter-mile east of Wallace’s farm.

He pulled off the side of the road and stepped out of his hot rod. He looked around the area. “I hope your story is correct, Grandma,” he said while remembering his grandmother Kimberly taking him to that spot as a young boy. She told him a tale that he always remembered. He got back inside his hot rod and roared off down the street.

Clark pulled his hot rod into the parking lot of the old Heavenly Souls Cemetery.

This cemetery was established in 1900 and was filled to capacity by 1956.

Clark parked his hot rod and got out.

He headed off to the gravesides.

Clark stopped off at an old gravesite contained inside a small security fence.

He glanced down and saw “Here Lies Dirk Beaumont, Born March 25, 1909, Died April 5, 1940” engraved on the marble headstone.

“Well, Dirk, I hope to extend the final date by many years,”

he said to the headstone.

After a few minutes of staring at Dirk’s gravesite, Clark walked away and returned to his hot rod.

He drove away from the cemetery and headed back home.

Clark parked his hot rod back in his garage.

He stepped out of his garage and glanced over at Dudley’s home. He noticed Kristy’s Cadillac SRX parked in the garage.

His interest peaked, and he headed over to Dudley’s house.

Once Clark walked over to Dudley’s home, he knocked on his front door. He looked anxious while he waited.

After a few seconds of waiting, Dudley’s front door opened, and Kristy appeared at the door.

She saw Clark outside. “Not this creep again,” she whispered and cringed, then gave him a polite smile.

“Ah, hi, Kristy.”

“Hi,” she replied and wished he would go just away and leave her alone.

“I was wondering,” he said, looking in her eyes.

“Please don’t ask me out for a date. Please don’t!” she silently prayed.

He suddenly started to get a little scared. “I was wondering if your daddy was home?” he said, chickening to ask her for a date. Kristy looked relieved.

“Who’s at the door, darling?” asked Dudley, walking behind Kristy.

“That neighbor,” she rolled her eyes.

“Hey Clark,” said Dudley while Kristy walked away with a smile that Clark didn’t ask her out.

“Dudley, I was wondering if I could borrow your photo album. I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Sure, please step inside,” said Dudley, moving aside to let Clark inside his living room.

“I’ll be right back,” said Dudley, closing the front door.

Dudley walked out of the living room.

Clark glanced around for sights of Kristy.

But she was gone since she discreetly ducked out of sight.

Dudley returned to the living room with his old family photo album.

“What do you want with it?” he said while he handed Clark his photo album.

Clark hesitated, as he didn’t plan this far ahead. “I’m rereading your book and wanted to check out the real pictures.”

“Okay. Give it back tomorrow.”

“I will,” replied Clark, then he opened the front door and stepped outside.

“There’s something odd about him,” said Kristy while she walked up to Dudley the second Clark closed the front door behind him.

“He sure has an obsession with Daddy,” said Dudley.

“What he really needs is to join this century.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, let’s head out to that steak house for dinner.”

Kristy nodded in agreement, and then they walked out of the living room and headed off to their bedrooms to freshen up.

Clark went inside his home, immediately started studying Dudley’s book, and glanced at the photo album.

Friday morning arrived, and Clark tossed and turned the whole night. He was too anxious about the potential of going back to 1935 to fall sleep.

It was a long day working on Cadillacs for Clark since he had nineteen thirty-five on his mind.

After he finished work, he raced his hot rod down the streets to head home.

After he got home, he returned Dudley’s photo album. He gave it to Kristy, and she stated that Dudley was napping since he was feeling a little ill. Clark didn’t want to talk to Dudley now, as he had to prepare for his trip.

It was eight that evening, and Clark was dressed in his pinstriped suit, new white shirt, black tie, and black Fedora hat.

He roared off away from his house in his hot rod.

Clark parked his hot rod at Wallace’s home next to his Cadillac.

He rushed out of his hot rod and across the porch to the front door.

He immediately knocked.

The front door opened, and Wallace appeared in an everyday brown 1930s suit and hat that looked cheap.

“Where did you get that suit?”

“It actually belonged to your granddaddy.”

“You’ll bend in perfect.”

“So, are you ready?” asked Wallace.

“Let’s go before I chicken out.”

Wallace stepped outside onto the porch and locked his front door.

“Let’s go traveling through time,” he said while he walked across the porch.

Clark followed with a spring in his step.

Wallace and Clark went into that room inside his barn.

Wallace looked at Clark and got a little suspicious.

“Now, with how you’re dressed, you better stick to my requirements,” he said, looking serious.

“I will,” replied Clark while he walked over to the starboard side of the machine.

“Okay,” said Wallace, then he walked over to the port side of his time machine.

He pulled up on the handle on the side of the machine.

The canopy flipped up, and the small doors opened on the sides of the machine.

“Get inside,” said Wallace, motioning for Clark to sit in the bench seat. Then he got inside the machine and sat down on the seat. He buckled up with the harness.

Clark entered the machine and sat on the bench seat next to Wallace.

He buckled up with the harness.

Wallace reached up and grabbed a handle on the bottom of the canopy. He pulled it down and simultaneously closed the canopy and the small doors with a whish.

Clark took a deep breath of courage while he looked at the console, not knowing what to expect.

Wallace flipped the “1 - Power Switch” and saw the green light. He flipped the “2 - Canopy” toggle switch, heard the canopy lock activated, and saw a green light.

Wallace looked at his watch and then back at the panel. He dialed on September 26, 2014, 2036, for the day’s date in the

“Now” panel.

He glanced over at Clark. “Oh, I forgot to ask what day in thirty-five?”

“I was thinking May sixteenth, thirty-five,” replied Clark as he studied Dudley’s book last night for the perfect day to travel back in time for his agenda.

Wallace dialed on May 16, 1935, 0400 in the “Drop-Off ”

panel, and then he pondered a few seconds.

“Two days should do it,” said Wallace. Then, he dialed in May 18, 1935, 2345, on the “Pick-Up” panel.

Clark looked concerned, as he needed to stay longer in 1935. While Wallace reached for the “3 - Date” toggle switch, Clark quickly turned the dial and changed the “Pick-up date to May 22, 1935, 2345.

Wallace flipped the “3 - Date” switch and saw that the light was green for the date.

Wallace flipped the “4 - Engine” toggle switch up and noticed the green light.

The engine in the rear started up with a whine. The engine started to hum.

Wallace glanced at a circular “Engine” gauge with white, green, and red bars.

He saw the needle in the white bar on the right and slowly moving to the green bar in the middle.

He dialed “3” for the digital readout of three minutes in the small “Timer” panel.

He flipped the “5 - Timer” toggle switch and noticed he had a green light.

He saw that the “Engine” gauge needle was now in the middle of the green bar.

Wallace flipped the “6 - Time Travel” toggle switch and saw he had a green light.

“It’s showtime,” he told Clark, then waited for the ride.

Wallace noticed the date was changed on the “Pick- Up” panel.

“How the hell did that pick up date change?” he said while he tried to change it back to what he originally dialed. But the humming got louder and was ear piercing.

That caused Wallace to use his hands to cover his ears, and he cringed in extreme pain. “I need to remember to use earmuffs,” he screamed out.

Clark covered his ears with his hands and cringed in extreme pain. He wondered if he made a huge mistake and would be vaporized into a million pieces.

The time machine slowly spun, and the bottom part connected to the landing legs stayed stationary.

The spinning got faster.

Wallace and Clark got dizzy inside the time machine.

Clark silently prayed that he wouldn’t vomit all over the machine. He feared it would be like a sprinkler effect.

The time machine started to spin at hypersonic speed.

Wallace saw psychedelic colors fill the glass of the time machine.

Clark saw the psychedelic colors and thought it was really cool. The time machine rose up off the ground by three inches.

The landing legs retracted into the bottom of the machine.

The time machine whirled around at hypersonic speed three feet off the ground.

Wallace passed out and slumped down in the seat.

Clark passed out and slumped down in the seat.

A few minutes had passed, and Wallace became conscious.

He noticed that the time machine was quiet except for the low hum that indicated it was still powered up. He knew he was back in time when he saw that the room he built in the barn wasn’t there.

Clark became conscious. He looked around in a daze and wondered where he was and what happened. It was dark inside the time machine except for the green lights of the console.

Then he noticed that it was dark outside the time machine.

“Are we dead?”

“No, we’re back in nineteen thirty-five.”

“How do you know?”

“That room I built to hide my time machine isn’t here.”

Clark looked around the canopy, and even though it was dark, he could sense that the walls of that room were gone.

Clark looked at the console and saw the “May 16, 1935, 0400” date flashing. “Wow!”

Wallace pulled up on a small handle on the wall of the left side of the machine.

The two small doors opened at the same time the canopy lifted up.

Wallace got out of his time machine.

Clark got out of the time machine.

Wallace closed the canopy and side doors. The canopy was locked with a click.

Wallace rushed Clark over to the side door of the barn.

They watched the time machine start humming.

The humming got louder and was ear-piercing, causing Clark and Wallace to cover his ears.

The time machine started slowly spinning, where the bottom connected to the landing legs stayed stationary.

Wallace’s eyes widened, remembering something. “Crap, I forgot to change the pick-up date,” he said and realized it was too late.

While Wallace eyed his time machine, Clark quietly opened the barn’s side door. He stepped outside to the darkness of the night.

Wallace decided to make this a long trip, as he had no choice. He watched the time machine spin faster and didn’t notice Clark was gone from inside the barn.

The time machine started to spin at hypersonic speed.

Wallace watched while psychedelic colors filled the glass of the time machine.

The time machine rose up off the ground by three feet.

The landing legs retracted into the bottom of the machine.

The time machine whirled around at hypersonic speed three feet off the ground.

Wallace watched his time machine disappear in a poof, raining a million pieces of red, white, blue, green, and yellow lights everywhere.

The colored lights dissolved into thin air.

“Let’s head out into nineteen thirty-five,” he said. His eyes widened when he noticed Clark was gone.

“Clark,” he quietly called out, hoping Clark was still in the barn. But Clark didn’t reply. “Don’t tell me,” said Wallace while he opened the side door and stepped outside.

Once Wallace was outside the barn, he looked around the area. “Clark,” he called out in a low whisper.

Clark didn’t reply or walk up to Wallace. “He tricked me,”

he said, then noticed that the front porch light of the house had

come on. He saw his young grandfather Victor step out on the front porch in coveralls, bare chest, and his Remington double-barrel shotgun in hand.

Wallace ran into the darkness while Victor walked to the barn with his shotgun.

Clark sat behind some trees a quarter of a mile east of Wallace’s farm.

He waited in the dark. Then his eyes started to drift close.

He was exhausted from traveling back in time. He fell asleep with his back up against a large tree.

Wallace walked off toward the city limits of Austin, down the street from his family’s farmhouse. He was furious Clark ran off. Victor walked out of his barn, scratching his head, and wondered what could have caused that strange noise.

He went back inside his house and rushed into the kitchen.

Victor stood by one of the kitchen windows with his shotgun in hand.

He stared outside at his barn and was ready if an intruder went inside his barn.

Chapter 6

The sun rose for the start of another day in Austin, Texas.

But it was now seven that Thursday morning on May 16, 1935, and this would be the second time the sun rose for this day.

Clark was still sound asleep against that tree and in the middle of a dream.

In his dream, Clark wore his suit with a Fedora hat. He had his hat cocked with a Thompson sub-machine gun in hand.

He stood on the passenger running board of a Ford Sedan with a grip on the door jams of the front and rear passenger doors. The Ford raced down a dirt road, leaving a trail of dust.

In that trail of dust was a black Ford cop car with a siren blaring.

Clark fired off his Thompson machine gun at the threatening cops.

One of the cops returned fire with his pesky revolver.

Clark laughed at the non-threatening weapon while bullets ricocheted off the metal of the car. He returned fire with his Thompson machine gun at the cops.

The radiator of the cop car hissed out steam. The cop car slowed down and then disappeared in the trail of dust.

Clark laughed over being victorious over the cops. Then he felt something poking at his chest. He looked around and could see nothing. But the poking at his chest continued and became painful.

“Is he dead?” a young male voice came out of the sky.

“Might be,” said another male voice from the sky.

The strange invisible poking at Clark’s chest continued and baffled him.

Back to reality, Clark woke up to the feeling of something still poking at his chest.

He opened his eyes and was startled at seeing two young boys dressed in coveralls standing over him.

One of them had a stick in his hand and was poking Clark in his chest.

From how they were dressed and their bowl-styled haircuts, Clark knew he was back in 1935. He smiled, thinking how cool it was to be back in that era, but that poking stick was a nuisance. Clark swatted the stick away. “Get away from me,” he yelled.

“You better git off daddy’s farm, or he’ll come and shoot you with his double-barrel. He doesn’t take kindly to hobos,”

one of the boys said threateningly.

Clark knew this might not be a good situation, so he stood up, nodded that he understood the boy, and walked away.

The boys watched while Clark walked west down Maple Road. But this street wasn’t called Maple Road in 1935; it was now known as RD 4.

He walked up to the dirt road that led to Wallace’s farm, stopped, and looked to his right down the driveway. A black 1932 Ford pickup truck was driving down the driveway with two people inside. Clark knew it was his ancestors and stood in awe while the pickup approached the driveway’s end.

When the pickup arrived at the end of the driveway, Clark instantly knew that his forty-year-old great-grandfather Victor was behind the wheel and his nineteen-year-old grandfather Ernie was in the passenger seat. They both wore coveralls and had that farmer appearance.

“Good morning, mister,” said Victor, seeing Clark standing by the side of the road.

“Good morning,” replied Clark, staring in awe at his ancestors.

“Do you need a ride? We’re heading into town to pick up some supplies,” said Victor.

“Ah, yes, sir,” replied Clark, knowing he had some time to kill before Dirk Beaumont would be driving down this road.

“You can hop in the back,” said Victor.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’m Victor Burns, and this is my son, Ernie,” he said while Clark walked toward the pickup.

Clark hesitated for a few seconds to recall the name on his driver’s license. “I’m Jake Johnson,” he replied, then walked over to the pickup bed by the driver’s side.

“Where in town can we drop you off?”

Clark’s stomach growled. “A good breakfast place would be nice,” he said, climbing onto the truck bed.

“My pleasure,” said Victor. Then, he shoved his pickup into gear and pulled it onto RD 4.

Victor drove west down the road, and Clark couldn’t believe he was sitting in the back of his hot rod pickup. It was so surreal.

Clark looked over the area and recognized a few old homes that were still in his time. Many of the countryside had been mowed over or trees chopped down. All in the name of progress. Clark liked what he saw, as there wasn’t the hustle and bustle life of Austin he experienced.

Ten minutes had passed, and Victor made a right turn and pulled his pickup into the dirt parking lot of “Jimmy’s Country Cooking” restaurant.

He stopped and leaned his head out his door window.

“Jimmy’s here has a great breakfast, and his sausages are the best,” Victor said.

Clark hopped out of the pickup bed and walked over to Victor.

“Thank you for the ride, sir.”

Victor looked at Clark, and something felt odd about this young stranger.

“Have we met before? You appear mighty familiar.”

Ernie looked at Clark. “You’re right, Daddy; he does look familiar.”

Clark wasn’t ready for this type of question. “Ah, no sir, I’m passing through from Dallas,” he said, sounding sincere.

Victor and Ernie looked at Clark from inside the pickup.

“Funny, you sure look like you could be kin. Oh well, have a safe journey,” said Victor.

“Thank you, and I will,” replied Clark, then walked to the restaurant’s front door.

Victor placed his pickup in gear and drove away.

Clark glanced over his shoulder and watched Victor drive his pickup down the road.

He went through the front door and stepped inside the restaurant.

Victor drove his pickup west on RD 4.

“That young man looked like one of them gangsters,” said Victor.

Ernie looked over at his daddy. “I was thinking the same thing.”

It was a quiet drive for Victor and Ernie while they headed to Fred’s Feed Store for some farm supplies.

Clark stood by the front door of Jimmy’s Country Cooking restaurant and was amazed by how little it had changed over the years. He often ate at the place back in his day when it was Hugo’s Mexican restaurant with some of his coworkers.

“Hello, sugar. You looking for a table?” a female’s voice called out from Clark’s right side while he looked the place over in awe.

Clark glanced over to his left and saw Edith, an old waitress. “Yes, ma-am,” he said.

“Follow me,” said Edith, then turned around and headed to some booths by the windows.

She walked Clark to his booth.

He got stares from all eight customers in the restaurant, who were all farmers. They all thought this sharply dressed man in the black Fedora hat and pencil-thin mustache might be a gangster. But they were clueless about his name, as they don’t recall seeing his picture on any wanted posters.

“Would you like some coffee?” asked Edith, the second Clark, who sat in the booth.

“Yes, ma-am,” he answered.

“I’ll be back, sugar,” she said, then walked away.

Clark saw the menu in front of him and started to read the options for breakfast.

A few minutes had passed, and Edith brought Clark a cup of piping hot black coffee.

“You ready to order?” she asked, placing the cup before Clark.

“I’ll take a number four,” he said while glancing at the menu.

Edith gave him a little smile and then walked away.

Clark sipped his hot coffee and could sense all the eyes of the restaurant were on him. He didn’t feel threatened and continued to drink his coffee. He silently prayed he would successfully hook up with Dirk Beaumont later today.

Edith brought Clark his two eggs, sausage, two pieces of buttered toast, and orange juice breakfast. He began eating, and his great-grandfather was correct; the sausage was the best.

After Clark paid his seventy-five cent bill for breakfast, he started his walk back east on RD 4.

According to Dudley’s book, Dirk Beaumont’s Cadillac should break down around noon. Dudley told the story in his book about how a farmer towed Dirk’s Cadillac into his barn so that they could work on the car. Dirk paid the farmer some money for his hospitality. Clark also hoped to find out if the story told by his grandmother Kimberly was true.

Clark was already a half-mile down the road from the restaurant and started to get exhausted. The sound of an approaching vehicle caught his attention.

He turned around and saw a 1928 Mack AB one-half-ton truck heading west. He stuck out his thumb to hitch a ride.

The Mack truck slowed down and stopped by Clark. “Hop in,” called out the old truck driver in workman clothes.

Clark looked relieved he got a ride on his first try. He felt his luck was working in his favor today, and it felt good.

“Thanks,” said Clark, climbing up and sitting inside the open cab.

Ned shoved his truck in gear and drove off down the road.

“Name is Ned Brown,” he said while he shoved his right hand at Clark.

“Jake Johnson,” replied Clark, shaking Ned’s hand.

“Where you headed?”

“Oh, about three miles down the road.”

“I’m not going that far, but I’ll get you closer.”

“Thanks,” replied Clark, as he was just happy he didn’t have to walk the entire distance.

“So, Mister Johnson, where you from?”

“Dallas.”

“What brings you to Austin?”

“Hoping to find a job as a mechanic.”

“Try Willy’s Garage back in town. He’s looking for a truck mechanic.”

“I work on Cadillacs.”

Ned glanced over at Clark. “Oh, one of them fancy mechanics,” he said, followed by a light chuckle.

“Yeah, one of them fancy mechanics.”

“Well, that explains your fancy duds.”

“Yeah, my fancy duds,” replied Clark, and he started to feel a tad out of place wearing his suit. But he didn’t care, as he had a mission to complete.

“But you’re heading in the wrong direction.”

Clark glanced over at Ned and didn’t expect that question.

“I’m meeting some friends at a farm down the road.”

“Oh,” replied Ned, believing Clark’s story.

It was quiet during the rest of the drive down RD 4.

Ned slowed down his Mack truck by another road to the right.

“I’m turning off here to the right,” he said while the truck stopped.

“Thanks for the lift,” said Clark, extending his hand to Ned. “Hope you find a job,” replied Ned, shaking Clark’s hand.

“Me too,” said Clark, climbing out of the cab of the Mac truck.

Clark waved at Ned, shoving his truck into gear, then made a right turn down Harrison Road.

Clark looked around the silent countryside. He took a deep breath, then started his westerly trek down RD 4 to the spot where he figured Dirk’s Cadillac would break down.

Clark walked twenty feet down the road when he heard the sound of an approaching car. But this sound was different. It had the sound of power, but something was wrong. The engine started to misfire.

Clark turned around and saw a black 1933 Cadillac Madame X Sedan Cabriolet with a thin layer of dirt on its body jerking its way down the road.

His heart raced as he knew that that Cadillac belonged to Dirk Beaumont, and he could see five people inside the car with a blonde-haired woman behind the wheel. It was showtime, and he started to get nervous and scared while his legs began to shake.

He watched that same Cadillac he drove in 2014 misfiring and vibrating its way to a stop on the side of the road.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he could hear Dirk curse out from the front passenger seat.

Dirk’s passenger door flew open, and he jumped out of the car pissed.

Clark stared in awe at the live sighting of Dirk Beaumont.

The rear doors of the Cadillac opened, and gang members Peter Harrison, Carl Sommers, and Jerome Falk exited the backseat.

The driver’s door opened, and Margret “Margie” Levitt stepped out of the car.

Dirk grabbed Carl’s left arm and rushed him to the car’s engine compartment. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You were supposed to keep this car running? Who the fuck taught you how to become a mechanic?” yelled Dirk while he shoved Carl’s head on the hood of the car. He released Carl’s head from the warm hood.

Carl cringed, knowing he was in deep yogurt with the boss while he opened up the passenger side of the engine compartment.

He poked his head inside the engine compartment for the cause of their trouble.

Marge lit a cigarette and then saw Clark staring at them.

She poked at Dirk and pointed in Clark’s direction to let him know that they had a visitor.

Dirk saw Clark and got suspicious. He walked over toward the stranger.

Clark got nervous while Dirk strutted over toward him with serious eyes.

When Dirk got closer, Clark noticed he was handsome in a Clark Gable way but without the ears. Dirk looked way taller in person than all those black and white pictures he had seen in books and on Internet sites. Clark saw Dirk’s pencil-thin mustache and was glad he grew one like his hero.

Peter and Jerome had watchful eyes on Clark in case he became a threat.

“What do you want?” asked Dirk, walking up to Clark and glaring into his eyes to let him know that Dirk was onerous.

“Ah, nothing. I mean, I’m just looking for a job,” Clark said, starting to get a nervous stomach and twitching leg muscles while Dirk looked him square in his eyes.

“A job, you say?”

“Yes, sir, I’m a car mechanic. I work on Cadillacs.”

“Did you say that you work on Cadillac’s?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dirk looked Clark over, and he had his suspicions about this stranger but decided to probe. “What’s your name?”

Clark reached inside his suit jacket, and that hand movement caused Peter and Jerome to reach for their Colt 45s inside their suit coats.

Clark saw them inch toward him with Colt 45s in hand.

“I’m reaching for my driver’s license. I don’t have a gun,” he said, and his leg muscles twitched faster.

Dirk motioned for Peter and Jerome to ease up. They did, and then Dirk motioned for them to check out Clark.

Peter had his Colt 45 ready for any threat.

Jerome patted Clark and found his driver’s license inside his suit jacket pocket.

“He’s clean,” said Jerome, looking at the driver’s license.

“Says he’s Jacob Johnson from Fort Worth,” he said, showing it to Dirk.

While Dirk checked out the driver’s license, Marge walked over after lighting another cigarette.

Clark glanced at Marge and thought he was so sexy in her dress, high heels, and platinum blonde hairstyle. He then saw her piercing blue eyes and instantly became smitten. Those old black-and-white photos of her didn’t do her justice. He could not keep an eye off those sexy curves he wished he could run his hands over.

Marge checked Clark out, and then she walked over to Dirk. She leaned in close to his left ear. “He looks harmless.

Let him take a look at the car,” she whispered into his ear.

Dirk looked at Marge.

She nodded, said she was serious, and then took a drag on her cigarette.

Dirk handed Clark back his driver’s license. “Can you take a look at my car?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Clark, and he started feeling more at ease.

He believed his plan might work.

Dirk, Clark, Jerome, and Peter walked back over to the Cadillac, where Carl stood scratching his head, confused about the cause of the car problem.

While they returned to the car, Marge kept her eyes on Clark. She thought he was cute and started to take an immediate interest in the stranger.

Clark poked his head inside the engine compartment, which looked the same as when he turned it up in present-day Dudley’s garage. He looked around and noticed two of the spark plug wires had worn spots, and the wires were visible.

“You have some bad spark plug wires,” he said while scanning the engine. Then he saw a broken tip on one of the spark plugs. “You also need a new spark plug,” he said, then pulled his head out of the engine compartment.

“Fuck!” cursed Dirk, as he hated delays like that because he felt they increased his chances of the cops snooping around.

He glared at Carl and felt like putting a bullet in his head.

But he refrained, as he needed him for some more heists.

“Can you fix it?” he asked Clark.

“Yeah, but you need some new wires and spark plugs.

There’s a Cadillac dealer in town with the parts.”

“Fuck!” cursed out Dirk while he scanned the area, feeling vulnerable.

“We need to get this off the road.”

The sound of an approaching vehicle was heard. Dirk and his gang looked toward that sound, fearful that the Austin cops or Texas Rangers were coming down the road. They had their hands on their Colt 45s, ready to fight for their right to remain free from criminals.

They looked relieved when they saw it was a pickup truck with two farmers inside.

Clark looked at the two farmers and recognized them as his grandfather and great-grandfather. He smiled. “It did happen.

But not where I was told,” he softly whispered.

Victor stopped his pickup by Dirk’s Cadillac.

“Got car trouble?” he called out from his pickup.

“Ah, yes, sir, do you have a barn we can put my car inside to fix it? It’s too dangerous to leave it out here. Some crook might steal it,” expressed Dirk in the most pleasant voice he could muster up.

Victor and Ernie’s eyes widened as they knew that this guy was the famous outlaw Dirk Beaumont. But for some reason, they didn’t feel threatened. The newspapers have stated that Dirk and his gang hated cops and never hurt the common folk, especially farmers.

“Yes, I do,” replied Victor.

“Good, I can pay you for using your barn,” said Dirk.

Victor normally wouldn’t associate with criminals, but times were tough, and any extra money he made would be helpful. “Only overnight.”

“That’s all we need. We’ll be gone by sun up,” promised Dirk.

“Okay, my farm is just down the road a tad. If you can’t follow me, I’ll get my tractor.”

“We can drive it there,” said Dirk.

Victor nodded, agreed, and then drove off.

“Get in,” Dirk said while he motioned for everybody to get inside the car.

Dirk made Clark sit in the middle of the front seat so he could keep a watchful eye on this stranger.

Marge started up the Cadillac, and it misfired and vibrated.

She reached by Clark’s legs and placed the Cadillac into gear.

Clark discreetly smiled when her hand was close to his legs.

Marge drove the vibrating car down the road, then turned left into Victor’s dirt driveway.

A few minutes passed, and Marge had the Cadillac hidden inside Victor’s barn.

Dirk, Marge, Clark, Carl, Jerome, and Peter exited the car.

Clark glanced around the barn, the same place he had left in 2014 and the same place he had arrived in 1935. He couldn’t believe that Dirk and his gang were inside his family’s barn. It was so surreal.

Victor and Ernie walked up to everybody after parking his pickup outside the barn door.

Dirk reached inside his suit coat and removed some cash.

He counted off four ten-dollar bills. “I hope forty dollars will help for your kindness and discretion,” he said, holding up the money.

“Helps me survive, and I know how to keep my mouth shut,” said Victor, taking the cash. He looked at the four ten-dollar bills and had never earned this much money in one day in his life.

He shoved the cash into his overall pocket. “Do you know what’s wrong with your car?”

“Needs new spark plug wires and spark plugs. Can we get a lift into town? Chamberlin Cadillac should have some new ones,” said Clark.

Victor looked surprised at Clark. “I thought you weren’t from around here?”

Clark felt caught while all eyes were on him. “Ah, I heard about them and wanted to apply for a job,” he said and silently prayed they would believe his story.

Dirk looked at Clark, then at Marge, then at Victor. “Can you please take this guy to that Cadillac place so he can get some new spark plug wires?” he politely asked Victor.

Victor nodded his head, then looked at Ernie. “My boy can drive him.”

“Good, Marge can tag along,” said Dirk.

Marge nodded, agreed, and looked forward to the little time alone with Clark.

Dirk handed Marge two ten-dollar bills and then motioned for them to get going.

Ernie, Clark, and Marge left the barn’s double doors.

“You can sleep in the house or the barn. I don’t have a phone yet, so you don’t have to worry about anything,” said Victor, as he didn’t want any trouble.

“I’ll think about that,” said Dirk.

Forty-year-old Alice entered the barn from the side door.

“Do we have company?” she asked, then stopped dead in her tracks the second she saw Dirk and his gang.

Victor saw that Alice looked worried. “Don’t worry, dear.

They’re paying guests and will leave in the morning after they fix their car,” he said, reaching inside his coverall pockets and removing the four ten-dollar bills. He handed the cash to Alice.

She smiled. “Welcome,” she said, relieved and loving the extra money she needed.

Alice tucked away the cash into her apron for safekeeping for a rainy day. She looked around the barn. “Where’s Ernie?”

“He’s taking two of our guests into town to buy parts for their car,” replied Victor.

“Oh, would you like to come into the house for coffee? I just made a fresh pot,” offered Alice, followed by a warm smile.

Dirk nodded, and that sounded like a good idea.

Victor, Alice, Dirk, Peter, Carl, and Jerome left the barn and headed to the farmhouse.

Ernie drove Marge and Clark west down RD 4. It was quiet inside the pickup.

Clark often took a discreet peek at Marge. He had to glance at her platinum hair. He had to try to get another look at her piercing blue eyes. He wanted to kiss her pouty lips painted with red lipstick. And those shapely legs covered by stockings would be a dream to run your hands up and down. But he refrained, knowing Dirk wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in his head.

“We’re lucky you were on the road when the car broke down. Carl’s not the best mechanic around,” said Marge.

“It’s my pleasure. That Cadillac is such a beautiful car, and I would hate to see it broken down,” smiled Clark.

“Daddy has some tools if you need them. They’re in the barn. I’ll show you where they’re at,” said Ernie.

“Thanks,” replied Clark, sneaking another quick peek at Marge.

She also took a quick peek at Clark, and their eyes met briefly.

They both turned away and kept their eyes straight ahead.

Later, Ernie, Marge, and Clark were in the Chamberlain Cadillac dealership buying spark plug wires and plugs. Clark didn’t recognize the place, as it wasn’t the same building he had worked in back then. It’s a lot smaller!

After paying for the parts, they walked away from the counter and headed to the door.

“Wait, why don’t you fill out a job application? After all, you want to work as a mechanic,” said Marge, wishing to test him when they got five feet from the parts counter.

Clark looked at Marge and knew he better play along.

“Sure.”

Twenty minutes had passed, and Ernie, Marge, and Clark left Chamberlain Cadillac after he filled out a job application.

He gave them the address of his driver and other fake information to play along with so that Marge wouldn’t get suspicious. He silently prayed that the manager wouldn’t verify the information.

The second Ernie, Marge, and Clark arrived back at the farm, and Clark started working on Dirk’s Cadillac engine. He used Victor’s tools to work on his John Deer tractor and Ford pickup.

After fifteen minutes, Clark was done and had the Cadillac purring like a kitten.

Dirk and his gang were in the barn with Victor and Ernie.

Alice was in the kitchen, making supper.

Dirk listened in awe to the sound of his car. “You did good, Jake. You did real good,” he praised Clark, then patted Clark on his back.

Clark gleamed over receiving a compliment from Dirk Beaumont.

Marge listened to the car engine and then got an idea.

“You know Dirk, we really could use him.”

“For what?” said Dirk.

“A mechanic. You know Carl is an idiot regarding car engines,” added Marge.

Dirk looked at Carl, who looked ashamed, and then Carl stared at the ground.

“I’m also an excellent driver,” said Clark, hoping Dirk would let him tag along with his gang.

Dirk glanced at Peter, Jerome, and Carl, who agreed that Clark could join the gang. Dirk studied Clark again for some strange reason, he felt Clark could be trusted. “Okay, Jake Johnson will be our mechanic and driver.”

Clark was jumping for joy inside but remained calm.

“Let’s get some rest,” said Dirk while he looked at his gang.

“I want Peter to take the first watch. Then Carl can relieve him.”

Peter and Carl nodded in agreement with Dirk’s orders.

Alice entered the barn. “Supper’s ready,” she called out, then returned to the house.

Dirk walked over and opened up the trunk of his Cadillac.

Peter, Jerome, and Carl walked over and removed the four suitcases from the trunk.

Dirk opened up the rear car door and reached inside. He removed two small cases that contained Thompson submachine guns with type C magazine drums.

They all headed out of the barn and off to the house.

After dinner, Dirk, Jerome, Carl, and Peter cleaned their Thompson machine guns and Colt 45s in the living room.

Victor and Ernie watched with interest. Clark watched in awe now, believing his grandmother Kimberly’s story.

Marge went upstairs for a bath, which felt good since she had not had one in three days.

Alice was in the kitchen cleaning up from supper.

Later that night, Dirk, Marge, Clark, Jerome, Carl, and Peter relaxed in the living room with Victor, Alice, and Ernie.

Marge read some old newspapers that Victor hadn’t thrown away yet.

Her eyes widened when she read an interesting article. “It says that Amelia Earhart was the first person to fly solo non-stop from Mexico to Newark on the eighth of May. How about that? A woman doing something great that men always get credit for,” she said and was impressed.

“Women shouldn’t do stuff that men are better at. And that includes flying. They belong in the kitchen,” Dirk stated.

“Got that right,” added Jerome.

Peter and Carl nodded in agreement.

Marge knew to keep her mouth shut, so she continued reading the paper.

Clark decided to keep his mouth shut. Then he glanced at Dirk and jumped for joy inside that he was hanging out with the famous outlaw Dirk Beaumont. It was a dream come true.

Victor, Alice, and Ernie also remained quiet, as they didn’t want to piss off their guests.

Chapter 7

The sun rose again for the second time on Friday, May 17, 1935. Today called for a hint of rain forecasted for later in the morning.

Alice was busy cooking pancakes and coffee for their paying guest.

She placed pancakes on five plates with five cups of coffee.

“Breakfast,” she called out from the doorway of the kitchen.

Dirk, Marge, Clark, Jerome, Peter, and Carl rushed into the kitchen with growling stomachs. They immediately crowded around the kitchen table and started eating their pancakes and drinking Alice’s fabulous coffee.

Clark ate and couldn’t help but stare at Alice. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing his great-grandmother in person. He had seen a picture of her when she was old and couldn’t believe how attractive she was for her age. “Getting old sucks,” he thought to himself while he eyed Alice and drank his coffee.

After the Beaumont gang finished their breakfast, Dirk paid Victor an extra twenty dollars for their hospitality.

Victor shook hands with the Beaumont gang.

Clark surprised Alice and everybody by giving her a goodbye hug. He couldn’t resist.

The gang left the kitchen and headed off to the barn.

Peter, Jerome, and Carl got situated in the backseat of the Cadillac.

“You can start by driving,” Dirk told Clark, then handed him the car keys.

Clark was looking forward to sitting behind the wheel of this Cadillac for the second time. “Okay,” he said, opening the passenger door and sitting behind the wheel.

Marge got in the front and sat in the middle seat next to Clark.

Clark liked the feeling of Marge’s left leg lightly rubbing against his right leg. He put away nasty thoughts of being alone with his sexy and intriguing woman.

Dirk sat in the front next to Marge and closed the passenger door. “Let’s get out of here,” he told Clark. Clark started up the Cadillac and drove out of the barn.

Clark drove the Cadillac down the driveway and stopped at the end by the road. He waited for directions from Dirk.

Dirk frowned at Clark while he reached over and smacked the back of Clark’s head, knocking his Fedora hat off his head.

“What the fuck was with you hugging that woman?” he said.

“He hugged her like she was his mother,” teased Jerome from the backseat.

“That’s what I thought,” added Carl.

“Or maybe he likes older women as lovers,” said Peter, then blew smooches into the air.

Jerome and Carl chucked over Peter’s air smooches.

Clark glanced over at Dirk and wondered how to respond.

“I thought that if I showed some compassion, they would keep their mouths shut,” he said as that was the only excuse he could come up with. He knew the truth wouldn’t be well received.

“Compassion? Giving them cash is compassion for keeping their mouths shut. We can’t go around hugging people.

It might make us appear soft. You got that?” said Dirk, looking serious.

“Got it,” replied Clark, still glad he could hug his great-grandmother.

Dirk looked out his door window to his right and then to his left to make sure the law wasn’t heading in their direction.

“Turn left,” he told Clark.

Clark lifted his Fedora hat off his lap and placed it back on his head.

He turned the Cadillac left and drove east on RD 4.

Jerome handed Dirk a map of Texas over Dirk’s left shoulder.

“You got a lot to learn, kid. A lot to learn to fucking learn”

said Dirk taking the map from Jerome.

He opened the map, and finding their location took a few seconds.

“I’ll tell you when to turn, Jake,” said Dirk, then placed the map on his lap.

Clark was in heaven while driving the Cadillac down RD 4.

After he drove three miles down RD 4, Dirk had him make a right turn onto Route 890.

He headed south down that two-lane country road.

Meanwhile, back in Austin, Wallace gave up on locating Clark and figured it was his own doing if he got into trouble by trying to hook up with some outlaw.

He spent all day yesterday walking around Austin discreetly snapping pictures with his Nikon COOLPIX S32 digital camera.

He walked up and stood by the entrance to the University of Austin. He was nervous but really wanted to chat with Dr.

Elmer Evans. So he stood there and pondered how to introduce himself to this professor. He couldn’t tell him that he had traveled from 2014. Doing that might have the police questioning Wallace as a crackpot and locking him up in a mental institution.

Wallace walked away and tried to come up with the perfect greeting.

He stopped in his tracks, turned around, and headed back to the entrance of the University of Texas. Wallace removed his digital camera out of his suit pocket. He snapped a few pictures of the entrance to the campus since it had changed over the years.

He walked away, practicing his perfect greeting for Dr.

Evans.

Back on Route 890, Dirk glanced over at Clark. He reached inside his suit coat and removed his Colt 45 with his left hand.

He reached his left arm around the back of Marge’s head.

He pressed the barrel of his Colt 45 just below Clark’s right ear. Clark’s eyes widened the second he felt the cold steel of the barrel of that Colt against his skin. He swallowed hard and wondered if he would be dead in a matter of seconds. But then

again, he realized that Dirk wouldn’t risk having a car accident and getting the front of his beautiful car all bloody.

“Now, Mister Jake Johnson, I sure hope you won’t cause me any grief.”

Clark started to shake a little, and Marge could feel it in Clark’s right leg.

“No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of causing you any grief,” he said and silently prayed Dirk wouldn’t put a bullet into his brain after they got to their destination.

Dirk pressed the barrel of his Colt 45 harder into Clark’s skin. “Cause if you do, then a bullet will end your life in a matter of seconds. Cause I insist my members are loyal and can be trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt. Do you understand Mister Johnson?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be loyal and trustworthy,” Clark said, fighting from peeing in his pants.

“Good,” Dirk said when he removed his Colt 45 from Clark’s head.

Clark sighed a sigh of relief.

Jerome, Peter, and Carl all chuckled from the rear seat.

Marge discreetly placed her left hand and lightly patted Clark’s right thigh to let him know things would be okay.

Dirk reached over and turned on the car’s AM radio.

It was a Motorola 5T-71 radio, and Dirk had it installed last year in the glovebox with the speaker under the dash. The cost was fifty-five dollars, and it was worth every penny. He wanted it for the enjoyment of listening to music while on the run.

Also, he wanted to hear news reports about his gang. He loved being in the limelight.

The Tumbling Tumbleweeds song by Gene Autry is played.

“Here on the range I belong, drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweeds,” sang out Dirk with the radio. And, of course, nobody had the guts to tell Dirk he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. So, they tolerated his singing voice.

“He’s awful!” Clark mouthed the words.

So they drive longer down Route 890 while the gang is forced to listen to Dirk’s nauseating singing of the Tumbling Tumbleweeds song.

Back in Austin, Wallace paced up and down the street by the front entrance of the University of Austin. He was nervous about confronting Dr. Elmer Evans for some reason.

After he walked past the entrance for the eighth time, he decided to be brave.

He rushed off through the front entrance and rushed into the campus.

While Wallace walked through the campus, he was in awe of how small it was back in 1935. He snapped more pictures to record his historic event.

He finally walked to the Physics Department building, which was built in 1901 and had a stone exterior. This wasn’t the same building Wallace worked in during the present day.

The existing building was torn down in 1955 because of an experiment that went south and caused a fire. He remembered that day but wasn’t the cause of the fire.

It was caused by a clumsy classmate.

Wallace went to the red wooden front doors and entered the building.

Once he stood in the front foyer of the building, Wallace looked around and saw a few students heading off to class. He was impressed with how they dressed in suits and not shorts and sandals like his University of Texas students.

He heard a door slam down the hallway near him. Then he heard footsteps and saw a young student walking down the hall in Wallace’s direction. “Excuse, young man, I’m looking for Doctor Evan’s office.”

“Down the hallway to the right, then take the hallway to the left. His office is in the middle on the right side,” the young student replied.

“Thank you,” replied Wallace, then he headed off to the hallway to the right.

Wallace walked down the hallway, made the left turn, and headed down that hallway.

After he made it to the middle of the hallway, he saw a closed door with an opaque window with “Dr. Evans, Physics Professor” painted on the glass in gold letters.

Wallace knocked on the door and breathed deeply to calm his nerves. No response from inside the office. He knocked again. No response from inside the office.

“Doctor Evans is out today,” said Agnes Reid, a secretary for the Physics department.

Wallace turned around and saw Agnes, a middle-aged woman with a stack of test papers.

“When will he return?”

“He’ll be back tomorrow morning. Would you like to make an appointment?”

“I would indeed,” said Wallace before he could chicken out.

“Follow me, please,” said Agnes, then headed down the hallway.

Wallace followed Agnes into the office of Dean Gerry Albertson.

After Agnes sat down behind her desk, she opened the appointment book she kept for all the professors and the dean.

“Let’s see, he has an opening tomorrow at ten. We’re only here for half a day to grade papers and prepare for the upcoming week,” said Agnes.

“Ten tomorrow morning is fine.”

“What’s your name?” asked Agnes with a pencil ready.

“Doctor Wallace Burns. I’m a physics professor here,” he said, then stopped when he realized he was starting to say the wrong thing. “I’m a professor from the University of Ohio,” he said. Agnes jotted down that information in her appointment book. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning at ten, Doctor Burns,”

she said warmly.

“Thank you,” replied Wallace, leaving the office while Agnes returned to work.

Wallace walked back down the hallways and headed to the front doors of the building.

He saw that it was raining outside and forgot to bring an umbrella.

So he turned around and decided to walk through the hallways and check out the students’ hard work.

The rain stopped thirty minutes later.

Wallace walked out of the front entrance to the university and headed off into town to do more exploring with 1935

Austin.

Clark drove the Cadillac south on Route 1120, heading toward San Antonio.

It was quiet inside the car as the rainstorm that hit Austin was also wetting this area.

The song I Want to Be a Cowboy’s Sweetheart by Patsy Montana and the Prairie Ramblers played on the radio. Dirk gave everybody’s ears a break this time and didn’t sing along.

His mind concentrated on his next heist to get more easy cash.

Dirk looked at the map in his hands. “Turn right at route three ten,” he told Clark.

Clark nodded in agreement and watched for signs of that road. Clark made a right turn on Route 310 and headed west.

After fifteen minutes of driving down that road, Clark made a left turn in Dirk’s direction onto a dirt driveway that was almost invisible and hidden between bushes and other vegetation.

He drove the Cadillac down the long dirt driveway and soon drove upon an abandoned farmhouse.

Jerome knew of this place from his father, who knew the farmer. He and his family left Texas last year and headed to Los Angeles, hoping for better opportunities.

“Drive over to the barn,” Dirk ordered Clark.

Clark drove off through the unkempt yard and headed to the barn to the left.

Clark stopped by the doors of the barn.

Jerome and Carl exited the back, ran over, and opened the barn’s double doors.

Clark drove the car into the barn and turned off the engine.

Dirk, Marge, Clark, and Peter got out of the car.

“Take the stuff to the house,” said Dirk then opened one of the rear passenger doors and reached inside. He grabbed the two cases that had Thompson machine guns.

He grabbed Marge’s left hand and walked her out of the barn. Jerome and Carl walked into the barn and joined Carl while he opened up the trunk of the Cadillac. They removed four small suitcases. One for Marge and Dirk and the other two for Peter, Jerome, and Carl.

Carl closed the trunk, and then he looked at Clark. He didn’t trust that stranger and was a little jealous that Clark was a better mechanic.

Clark walked out of the barn with the three outlaws.

“Close the doors,” Peter told Clark.

After they got outside, Carl, Peter, and Jerome waited while Clark closed the barn doors.

The four headed off to the farmhouse.

They entered the house from the front door, which wasn’t visible from the main road.

They met Dirk and Marge in the living room and set the suitcases on the floor.

Clark handed Dirk back his car keys.

“Rooms are upstairs. To find a room, then we’ll meet down here in a few minutes,” said Dirk, then he looked at Clark.

“You’ll sleep in my room until you build my trust.”

Clark nodded that he agreed.

Marge grabbed her suitcase and headed off into the kitchen.

Dirk, Jerome, and Carl grabbed their suitcases.

Clark walked with them up the stairs, and they made a claim with their sleeping quarters.

Marge was in the kitchen, removing some plates, utensils, coffee pot, and cups from her suitcase. The other items inside her suitcase were another dress, panties, a bra, and cash from the

previous heists. She always traveled light, as did the other guys in the gang.

Dirk and everybody met back downstairs in the living room.

Clark looked around at the furniture in the living room, which was over thirty-five years old. The farmer and his wife furnished the entire house through the Sears Roebuck catalog.

And all the furniture was now showing over thirty-five years of wear and tear.

Dirk glanced at Clark and then at Marge. “I want you two to head into Garden Ridge for food.”

Marge and Clark nodded.

“And act like a couple so that no one will get wise to us being here,” said Dirk, then he reached into his pants pocket and removed a ten-dollar bill and his car keys.

Clark glanced over at Marge and smiled inside with Dirk’s order.

Dirk walked over to Clark and got in his face. “It’s pretending, so you better not take this too far. Understand?” he said threateningly, then shoved the ten-dollar bill and car keys into Clark’s pants pocket.

“Yes, sir. I won’t take this too far,” said Clark while Dirk glared at him.

“Okay, at the end of the driveway, turn left, and that road will take you into Garden Ridge,” Dirk told Clark.

“Got it,” said Clark.

“Head out,” said Dirk, then he watched Clark and Marge walk out the front door.

“Break out the shine for a quick drink,” Dirk told Peter.

Peter, Carl, and Jerome smiled, as it was a long drive and a drink would hit the spot.

Carl rushed up the stairs and returned with a Mason jar of Moonshine in a few minutes.

Dirk, Jerome, and Peter gathered around Carl while he opened up the jar.

Carl took a swig and then handed the jar to Dirk.

Dirk took a healthy swig and then handed the jar to Peter.

Peter took a drink.

“Do you think you can trust that Jake guy with Marge?”

asked Peter after the Moonshine finished burning its way down to his stomach. He handed the jar to Jerome.

“Yeah, Marge carries her own forty-five in her purse,” said Dirk while Jerome took his drink.

Jerome handed the jar back to Dirk, who took another drink.

Carl, Peter, and Jerome all had another drink.

“That’s enough. I want you guys alert for tomorrow’s heist,” said Dirk after Carl took his drink.

Carl reinstalled the lid to the Mason jar and then took it back upstairs.

Clark and Marge were in the Cadillac heading down Route 320. It was quiet.

Clark decided to break the ice. “Listen, between you and me, I think what Amelia Earhart did was great. And if a woman wants to set records in the sky with an airplane, well, I’m okay with that,” he said.

Marge looked at him and smiled. “You really believe in that?”

“I do, I don’t believe that a woman’s sole job is in the kitchen or between the sheets. I believe that a woman can also go for her dreams. She can do anything her heart desires,” he added.

Marge glanced at Clark. “Between the sheets. I like that,”

she said and smiled. She really started to like this stranger.

It was quiet during the rest of Clark and Marge’s dive into Garden Ridge.

But they did the occasional glances at each other.

Clark parked the Cadillac in front of Gus’s grocery store.

Marge and Clark got out and met at the front of the car.

Marge placed her left arm around Clark’s right arm to give the appearance they were a couple.

They went inside the store.

Inside the store, seventy-year-old Gus worked behind the cash register.

“Hello there,” said Gus when he spotted Marge and Jake.

“Hello,” replied Clark.

Gus looked at the couple. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Marge and Clark stopped and looked at Gus.

“No sir, we’re from Cotulla passing through heading to Dallas for a new job,” replied Clark.

“Well, thank you for stopping in my store,” replied Gus.

“We just got married, and Willy, my husband here, is going to get a job at my uncle’s hardware store in Dallas,” said Marge, then gave Clark a kiss on his cheek.

Clark was surprised by her reply and kiss. “That’s right, my dear,” he said.

“Congratulations,” replied Gus.

Marge and Clark smiled, then walked off to do some shopping arm-in-arm.

A little while later, Marge and Clark returned to the cash register with the food they needed for the next couple of days.

Clark let Marge pick out the food since she knew what the gang wanted.

They headed back to the counter.

Clark placed a pound of sliced ham, two dozen eggs, two loaves of bread, four rolls of toilet paper, four bars of soap, two tubes of toothpaste, two pounds of bacon, five cans of pork and beans, two pounds of wieners, two packages of wiener buns, six boxes of Corn Flakes, a pound of cheese, and a can of Maxwell coffee on the counter.

Gus checked out Marge and Clark while he rang up their food.

Marge noticed him checking them out, so she decided to act the part.

Gus smiled. “Just married, you say?”

“Yes, sir, two days ago,” replied Clark, then he gave Marge a quick kiss on her lips.

“We hope to start raising a family soon.” Marge played along and smiled. “Four, I hope.”

“Four sounds great,” smiled Clark.

Gus recalled that day when he married Elaine in 1885 for a few seconds. He was at his cash register. “That’s two dollars and eighty cents,” he said, placing the grocery items into two paper bags.

Clark reached inside his pants pocket and removed the ten-dollar bill.

He handed Gus the money.

Gus gave Clark some change.

Clark shoved the change into his pocket and grabbed the two paper bags.

“Let’s get going, honey,” he told Marge.

“Yes, dear,” replied Marge.

Gus watched while they walked away. “Cute couple,” he said then he looked out his windows and watched them get inside the Cadillac. “Rich, cute couple,” he added, heading off to the back storeroom.

A little while later, Clark had the Cadillac in its hiding place in the barn.

Clark carried the grocery bags into the house and then into the kitchen.

“How did he do?” Dirk asked Marge while she and Clark were putting away the groceries.

“He was a perfect gentleman,” she smiled.

Clark reached into his pants pocket and removed the change. He handed it to Dirk.

“Keep it,” replied Dirk, then he left the kitchen.

Clark wasn’t that impressed but figured Dirk started to accept him into the gang.

He shoved the change back into his pants pocket.

In Austin, Wallace returned to his room at the Austin Motor Court three streets over from the university.

He lay in bed, bored out of his mind.

Evening fell upon Texas.

At the hideout, Marge fixed hot dogs in the fireplace for supper. They sat around the living room and ate their dinner.

“Jake, you’re going on a mission with Jerome and me tonight,” said Dirk.

Clark looked at Dirk with anxious eyes. “Sure.”

“Since you’re such a great mechanic, you’ll steal a car for us from Garden Ridge.”

Clark’s mouth dropped, and he looked surprised. “Steal a car?” “Of course. We can’t pull off tomorrow’s job with my car.

Consider this another test of me trusting you,” replied Dirk.

Clark looked nervous. “Ah, okay.”

Dirk could sense Clark was nervous. “I hope I can count on you? After all, you were looking for a job. And if you pull this off, I’ll give you a share of the loot.”

“I’m good, and you can count on me,” said Clark, still nervous but wanting to prove himself.

“We’ll leave around midnight,” said Dirk, then he got up and headed out the front door to take a piss outside.

Clark ate his hot dog and thought about this upcoming mission.

For the rest of the evening, the gang planned their heist for tomorrow afternoon in San Antonio. Clark listened as he and Marge already had their assignments.

Midnight rolled around Texas.

Wallace was sound asleep in his room at the Austin Motor Court.

At the hideout, Clark and Dirk got in the front of the Cadillac while Jerome got in the backseat.

The farmhouse was dark as there wasn’t any electricity, and Dirk actually preferred it that way so it wouldn’t attract attention.

Clark drove the Cadillac out of the barn, down the dirt driveway, and down Route 310. He was still nervous about stealing a car.

Clark drove the Cadillac to the beginning of the Garden Ridge city limit.

“Drive straight through town first,” said Dirk.

“What?” asked Clark.

“Drive through town. There’s something we need to accomplish first,” replied Dirk.

“Okay,” Clark said, not having a clue.

Clark drove through the small town of Garden Ridge.

Then, Dirk had him turn south on Route 875 and head south toward the direction of San Antonio.

Dirk looked the area over while Clark drove down the road.

After they went three miles down Route 875, Dirk made Clark make a U-turn in the road and parked along the other side by a large field.

“This will be our rendezvous point tomorrow,” Dirk told Clark.

“Okay,” replied Clark while he looked the area over but was nervous he wouldn’t recognize this place during the daylight.

“Let’s go get some wheels,” said Dirk.

Clark pulled the Cadillac back on the road and headed back down Route 875.

Clark drove the Cadillac through the other beginning of the Garden Ridge city limits.

He drove down Main Street. “Stop the car,” ordered Dirk.

Clark stopped the car in the quiet street.

“I want you and Jerome to get out,” said Dirk, looking at Clark.

Jerome had a smirk from the backseat.

“What?” asked Clark, not sure he heard correctly.

“I said, you and Jerome get out. If you want to get back to the hideout, you’ll have to steal a car,” replied Dirk, who sounded serious.

Jerome chuckled while he opened his passenger door and stepped outside.

Dirk glared at Clark to let him know he was serious.

Clark opened the driver’s door and got out.

Once he stood outside, Clark watched Dirk slide over behind the wheel and then drive the Cadillac off down the street.

Jerome and Clark stood in the quiet street and watched while the small rear tail lights of the Cadillac became smaller and smaller down the road.

“Let’s get to work, I hate walking,” said Jerome while he looked up and down the street. Then, he saw a street heading down to a residential area. “This way.”

Clark watched while Jerome walked off in the same direction Dirk drove. He looked around the street and wondered if Garden Ridge had a sharp police force. He figured the town was too small for one.

He ran after Jerome.

After ten minutes of walking through the small residential area of the town, Jerome and Clark spotted a 1932 Ford V8

parked in the driveway of a little cottage.

“She’ll do,” said Jerome, and then he motioned for Clark to follow him.

Clark and Jerome gingerly walked down the house’s driveway, where all the lights were turned off.

Jerome quietly opened the driver’s door, released the parking brake, and placed the car in neutral.

“Push her to the end of the driveway,” he whispered to Clark.

Clark nodded. He understood and started pushing against the front grill.

The Ford started rolling down the driveway and soon rolled into the street.

“Come get her started,” Jerome whispered to Clark.

Clark rushed over to the car and did his magic under the dash. The car started.

Jerome jumped in the passenger seat while Clark jumped behind the wheel.

Clark drove off down the street with the headlights off and couldn’t believe he actually stole a car. His heart raced with excitement, and he started to enjoy this way of life.

It was later that Clark drove the Ford down the dirt driveway of the hideout, and with Jerome’s help, they hid it in the barn next to the Cadillac.

Clark and Jerome rushed out of the barn, closed the double barn doors, and then rushed to the house.

When Clark and Jerome got inside the living room, they were greeted by Dirk, who was waiting on the couch.

“How did it go?”

“Jake pulled through like a champ,” said Jerome, flashing a proud smile at Clark.

Dirk flashed a proud smile, then gave Clark a little pat on his shoulder. “I’m glad. Now don’t screw up tomorrow.”

Clark looked proud.

“Take over my watch. Wake up Carl in two hours,” Dirk told Jerome.

“Okay,” replied Jerome.

“Let’s get some rest,” Dirk said, patting Clark on his shoulder again for a job well done.

Dirk and Clark headed up the stairs while Jerome sat on the couch to start his shift of guard duty.

After Clark got undressed to his boxers and tee-shirt, he got down on the bedroom floor.

Dirk was undressed to his boxers and tee shirt and already in bed. He started snoring in his sleep.

Clark was so wired from stealing that car that it took him two hours to drift off to sleep.

Chapter 8

The next day arrived, and the sun rose for the second time.

It was Saturday, May 18, 1935.

It was ten in the morning, and Marge woke up before the guys, as was the norm.

She did her woman’s job of making breakfast for the troops.

She went inside the living room after going outside, gathering up firewood.

She got a fire going in the fireplace.

Then she went back outside with a small water pitcher she had in her suitcase.

She found the hand pump for the well and pumped water into the pitcher.

She returned inside and started making coffee, bacon, and scrambled eggs for the guys.

The aroma of her cooking bacon started filling the house’s air. That smell was all needed as a wake-up call for the guys.

One by one, they woke up, got dressed, and headed down to the living room.

Since the house didn’t have running water, none took a shower.

But they had water for brushing their teeth.

Clark used toothpaste and his index finger as a brush. This was Clark’s first rude awakening with life on the lamb with outlaws.

Dirk, Marge, and Peter sat on the couch, eating eggs and bacon.

Carl sat on the floor with Jerome while they ate their breakfast.

Clark stood by the doorway to the living room and watched since they only had four plates.

Clark and Marge exchanged discreet glances while Dirk’s eyes weren’t on them. He looked forward to spending time alone with this beautiful and intriguing woman.

Marge finished her smaller portion of breakfast. She got up from the couch, walked into the kitchen, and headed over to the sink.

She took a towel, used water from the pitcher to clean her plate, and walked back into the living room and over to the fireplace.

She scooped the last of the eggs and bacon from the cooking pans into her plate. She poured coffee into her cup.

“Here’s your breakfast,” she told Clark, handing him the plate and cup with a discreet smile.

Clark sat on the floor and didn’t mind using the same plate, cup, or utensils as Marge used rather than one of the other guy’s stuff.

Dirk, Jerome, Peter, and Carl finished their plates and got up, leaving their plates, utensils, and cups on the floor.

“Let’s go to the barn to review the plan again,” Dirk told his partners.

They all headed out of the front door of the living room.

Marge picked up their plates, cups, and utensils and returned to the kitchen.

She stood at the sink and wiped everything clean.

After Clark ate breakfast, he got off the floor and headed into the kitchen.

When he saw Marge at the sink, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her sweet curvy backside. He fought hard from not reaching out and rubbing her hands on her butt cheeks. “Let me help,” he said, then walked over and stood next to Marge.

She was surprised that a man offered to help with the breakfast dishes.

She couldn’t refuse his offer.

Back in Austin, Wallace left the motor court and walked back to the University of Austin.

He walked through the college entrance and returned to the Physics department building.

He entered the dean’s office after he went through the front doors and down the hallways.

Once inside the office, he saw Agnes sitting behind her desk typing a letter on a Royal manual typewriter. He recalled those days long ago when that was the main typewriter he used in college for his reports. “I love computers,” he said quietly in his head while he listened to the clicking sound of the typewriter keys. Agnes looked up from her work and stopped typing. “May I help you?” she forgot about meeting him yesterday.

“I had an appointment at ten with Doctor Evans. I’m Doctor Burns.”

Agnes looked at her appointment book. “Ah, yes. One second, please,” she said, then got up from behind her desk.

“Please follow me, Doctor Burns,” she said, then walked away from her desk and headed to the door.

She left the office and went out into the hallway.

She walked to Dr. Burns’s office. She knocked and then opened the door. “Your ten o’clock appointment is here,” she said into the office.

“Send him in,” replied Dr. Evans.

Agnes motioned for Wallace to go inside the office.

Wallace entered Dr. Evans’s small office and closed the door.

“How may I help you?” asked Dr. Evans while he got up from behind his desk and walked over to Wallace.

Wallace was at a loss of words the second he saw Dr.

Evans. He had seen a few black-and-white pictures of him, so seeing him in person was strange. “I’m Doctor Wallace Burns.

I’m a physics professor from Ohio.”

“Ah, well, what brings you here to Austin?”

Wallace was again at a loss of words, and all those greetings he practiced were now forgotten. “I’m looking for employment as a physics professor. I was wondering if you had an opening,”

replied Wallace without thinking.

“Employment,” said Dr. Evans while he returned to his desk. “Please have a seat,” he said while he sat back in his chair.

Wallace sat in the chair in front of Dr. Evans’s desk.

“You said you teach at the University of Ohio?” “Yes, sir.

Dr. Evans got up from behind his desk. “Let’s take a walk over to administration,” he said while he walked over to Wallace.

Wallace and Dr. Evans left his office and walked down the hallways.

They left the building and headed to the Administration building.

Wallace didn’t have employment in mind, but that would help give him plenty of time to chat with Dr. Evans.

Back at the farmhouse hideout, Clark finished helping Marge clean the plates, utensils, and coffee cups. He helped Marge pack them in her suitcase by the other side of the kitchen.

“How come you don’t have any change of clothes?” she asked him while she closed her suitcase.

“I wanted to travel light.”

“Well, after a few more jobs, I’ll have to take you shopping for some snazzy clothes,” said Marge, then winked at him.

“We’ll make it a date.”

“I hope so,” she replied with a warm smile and eyes that made Clark wonder if she had something else in mind.

“Jake, go make sure the cars are in good working order for later today,” Dirk’s voice came from the entrance to the kitchen.

Clark got a little startled, thinking that Dirk had caught him flirting. He turned around. “Yes sir,” he said while Dirk walked over to him with the keys to his Cadillac and the stolen Ford.

Dirk returned to the living room to review their heist plans again with his guys.

Clark headed to the side door of the kitchen and went outside.

Marge grabbed her suitcase and walked out of the kitchen.

Out in the barn, Clark opened up the hood of the Cadillac and glanced around the engine. He checked for any spark plugs that might be cracked. He looked over all the wires for any bare spots. Everything seemed in perfect shape, so he closed the hood.

He got behind the wheel and started the engine. She purred like a kitten, and he was satisfied. He turned off the engine and got out of the car.

He then opened up the hood of the Ford and looked inside. He checked out the spark plugs and wires.

Everything looked in order, so he got behind the wheel and started the engine. She sounded good, so he turned off the engine and closed the hood.

Clark walked out of the barn and headed back to the house.

“Cars are in perfect running order,” he told Dirk the second he arrived in the living room.

“Good, we’ll leave around two. So, relax for a couple of hours,” Dirk said, then sat down.

He closed his eyes and ran the heist plan over and over and over in his head.

Hours had passed, and it was now two in the afternoon.

“It’s time,” said Dirk while he walked into the living room, where everybody lounged.

Peter, Carl, and Jerome got up off the floor and stretched.

Jerome cracked his knuckles, a habit he did every time they left for a heist.

They walked with Dirk and went out the front door.

Once they got outside, Dirk, Carl, Jerome, and Peter walked off and went inside the barn.

Once inside the barn, Dirk got in the front passenger side of the Ford with Carl behind the wheel. Jerome and Peter sat in the backseat. Dirk decided to refrain from taking the Thompson machine guns on this job, believing their Colt 45s would suffice.

Carl started up the Ford and drove out of the barn.

Clark and Marge stood by the house’s front door and watched Carl drive the Ford down the dirt driveway.

They continued to watch while the Ford turned left from the driveway and drove off down the road. It was out of sight.

“Well, we might as well relax since we have an hour,” said Marge, looking at Clark.

Clark wanted to take her in his arms and start kissing her.

He refrained and played it cool.

“Yeah, we might as well relax.”

Marge and Clark walked over and sat down on the couch.

It was quiet between them.

It was also quiet in the Ford while Carl drove down the road. “Are you still sure we can trust this Jake guy?” Jerome asked Dirk.

“I’m sure. Marge has orders to shoot if he tries to contact the cops,” Dirk replied, feeling he could trust his newest member.

“I sure hope so,” replied Jerome, still having doubts.

Carl and Peter nodded in agreement with Jerome.

It remained quiet in the car while Carl continued their trek down the road.

They all practiced their tasks in their heads over and over again.

Back at the farmhouse hideout, Marge and Clark were getting to know each other.

“So that night in September thirty-two, I met Dirk at the Jazzy Land Club in Memphis. He fell instantly in love with me. I hated my job as a waitress. My manager stiffed me for pay and always wanted to stiff me in his office. If you know what I mean. But I needed what little money I did earn. So after Dirk saw the manager slap me for refusing to go into his office for some unwanted fun. Dirk stepped in to rescue me and beat the crap out of him. He took me by the hand and said I was going away with him,” said Marge, smiling, remembering that day.

Clark pretended this was the first time he heard that story but recalled reading it in Dudley’s book. Hearing it from Marge made him realize the book stated the truth.

“Did you know what Dirk did for a living while he took you away from that club?”

“I suspected he did something illegal. Then he told me that he robbed banks, gas stations, and whatnot. He said he would ensure I would be out of sight of the cops. That’s why he

bought that Cadillac. He thought the cops would believe we were a wealthy couple and wouldn’t bother us. It’s been working for the past two years.”

Clark again pretended this was the first time he heard that piece of history. But it was cool this time since he heard it from the individual’s mouth.

Back at the University of Texas, Wallace was done with his application for employment for the second time.

Dr. Evans decided to give Wallace an extended tour of the entire campus and the Physics department. They were in the middle of this long tour, and Dr. Evans wanted to make sure Wallace was, in fact, a professor of physics.

Down in San Antonio, Carl drove down Houston Street and rolled past the Frost Brothers department store.

He kept driving through the streets to familiarize himself with their escape route.

Back at the farmhouse hideout, Clark and Marge continued their chat.

“So, what brought you to this neck of the woods for a job?” asked Marge, then she lit a cigarette.

Clark paused for a few seconds for a viable explanation, stating he wanted to be at the exact spot where the Cadillac broke, which wouldn’t be the correct answer. “I heard of a job opening at that Cadillac dealer in Austin. But then the thought of slaving for someone making shit pay wasn’t something I wanted to do the second I spotted Dirk. This is the life for me.

Living on the edge, making lots of money the easy way.”

Marge looked at Clark while she smoked her cigarette. She exhaled. “I agree,” she said, then took another drag on her cigarette.

Clark felt relieved that she bought his line of bullshit.

Marge glanced down at her watch. “We better hit the road,”

she said. Then, she dropped her cigarette on the floor and smashed it with her high-heeled shoe.

She got up off the couch.

Clark got off the couch and placed his Fedora hat on his head. He cocked it to look like a tough guy.

Clark and Marge left the house and rushed to the barn with all the suitcases.

After they had placed the suitcases in the Cadillac trunk, they went inside.

Clark drove out of the barn.

He drove down the driveway and then turned on the road.

Clark really felt like a 1930s outlaw while he drove away.

His eyes widened while he remembered Dudley’s book and how today’s heist would be a first for the Dirk Beaumont gang.

He was excited about being part of this historical event.

It was a quiet drive since Clark started to get a tad nervous.

Would he screw up and park at the wrong location? Would the cops come shooting? Would he have to shoot at the cops?

Would he get shot, never to return to his time?

He felt relieved when he remembered how history recorded today’s events, hoping the history books and the Internet got it correct.

He was still nervous.

After a few minutes, he thought about one of his favorite songs to calm his nerves. He started whistling Moonlight Serenade.

Marge glanced over at Clark and smiled. “That’s a lovely tune. Who did that one?”

“It’s called Moonlight Serenade,” replied Clark, then he cringed, knowing that that song wouldn’t be released until 1939.

“Never heard of it.”

Clark glanced over at Marge and decided to take advantage of this situation.

“It’s a tune I came up with last month.”

“It’s pretty. Give me more.”

Clark started over and whistled out the song while they drove down the road.

Marge loved it and eventually started to whistle along with Clark.

Carl finished driving around and getting familiar with their escape route.

He drove the Ford back down Houston Street in San Antonio.

He parked by the front entrance of the four-story Frost Brothers department store.

“Come back fifteen minutes after closing,” said Dirk, then he got out along with Jerome and Peter.

Carl drove off down the street while Dirk, Jerome, and Peter played it calm, walking into the store’s front entrance.

Carl turned right down another street while the others entered the store.

The street level of the Frost Brothers department store was busy this Saturday.

Dirk nodded at Jerome and Peter.

They nodded back, and the three went off in three different directions on the street level. They all kept their Fedora hats on their heads.

Peter headed off to the Man’s World area. Jerome headed off to the Candy area.

Dirk headed off to the Fashion Jewelry area.

While he looked at the jewelry in the glass cases, he eyed the Mezzanine level with particular interest.

Back in Garden Ridge, Clark drove the Cadillac down the main street without raising a suspicious eye. Maybe a few glances at that ritzy Cadillac, but no suspicious eyes.

“Let’s fill up the tank,” said Marge when she saw a Phillips 66 gas station ahead.

Clark nodded, and then he pulled into the station. He stopped at the two pumps.