Locomotive to the Past - George Schultz (famous ebook reader .txt) 📗

“Yes,” cautioned Father Benjamin, “and I really wasn’t too thrilled… with the whole, grandiose, caper! I’m… almost… still not!”

“Caper?” gasped the startled patient. “What caper?”

“Caper! That’s about the size of it,” responded the priest. “Although, I have to say… that my fingerprints are, probably, all over the conspiracy!”

“Con… conspiracy? Fingers?” Jason remained just as confused.

“Yep,” nodded Father Benjamin. “Susie, you see, can be quite persuasive! Very persuasive… actually! In case you’ve not noticed!”

“Damn persuasive,” echoed Eric—smiling, halfheartedly, at the priest (who’d nodded, once more, his agreement—equally as halfheartedly).

“Look, Jason!” Valerie was speaking—at long last. “Listen! Listen to me! I didn’t want any part of this deal! I didn’t! Not originally, anyway! And… at this point… I’m still not sure, that I want to go along with it! Go through with the, out-of-this-world, scheme!”

“Scheme? Oh, look,” pleaded the still-totally-flummoxed Jason. “Will someone . . . anyone, please . . . please tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Well,” volunteered Eric, “I’m… obviously… the wrong one to be asking this question!” Then, turning to face Valerie, he continued—in a, totally-unimaginable, tone of voice: “Valerie… will you marry Jason?”

“WHAT?” The aforementioned Jason almost jumped out, of the bed—despite the formidable restraint, of the not-yet-dried plaster cast! “What the hell… what did you just ask her?” He’d never seen Eric jump backward—as his former landlord did, at Jason’s, cobra-like, move! “What the hell’s going-the-hell-on? Will someone . . . please, for God’s sake… tell me?”

“It’s the perfect solution,” explained Susan, calmly! Her, business-like, tone simply reeked of logic! “Don’t you see? Jason! Don’t you see it? How naive can you be?”

“Don’t I see what? What naive? Naive as hell . . . I guess!”

“Jason, dear,” replied his former landlady. “You are incapacitated!”

“That, I know! But, what’s my being a crip . . . have to do with anything?”

“A ‘crip’?” It was the first time Nicholas had spoken up! (So unlike him.) “Who uses words like that? A ‘crip’?”

“He’s upset,” explained Valerie—in a tone, that was much less upset, than anyone could’ve expected. “When he gets excited . . . or really upset . . . he starts to talk that way! Talk… really funny. It’s a little bit… ah… spooky!”

“Then,” observed Susan, “you must’ve excited him… over the past few months… more than any of the rest of us have.”

“Or upset him more,” offered Eric, laughing too-loudly. Anything—to break the tension.

“I can’t believe,” responded the younger woman, “that any of this surprises you. His goofy words, I mean. Surely, you must’ve noticed. As often… and as long… as he’s been around you. Sometimes, he just…”

“Well, yeah,” allowed Susan, after a thoughtful moment or two. “I guess maybe a little.”

“A little?” pressed Valerie. “With me? With me… he does it! Does it all the time!”

“All right!” half-shouted Jason. “Will someone… please . . . clue me the hell in?” No one—including Our Boy, himself—could remember his ever being that demanding! That forceful! He didn’t even begin to ponder—what that might portend!

“He’s really upset,” stated Susan. “All right, Jason. We’re all agreed that you’re incapacitated! Right? A crip . . . as you so colorfully put it?”

“Yeah,” he groused. “I’m incap-damn-pacitated. What’s… ?”

“So,” she pressed. “What’re you gonna do? How are you going to live?”

That statement of fact brought the patient up short!

“Of course,” continued Susan, “you could move back with us. We’d be more than happy… to have you back! But then, your apartment would go to waste. And, of course, there’s the matter… of the stairs, at our place. You’d have to go upstairs… to use the john. Whether, or not, you put the seat down.” She permitted herself a small, self-satisfied, chuckle. “And then, you’d have to, come back down… to eat. And, besides, I have the feeling… that you absolutely love your apartment.”

“Well, yeah. I do. Do love the place.”

“But… with you stranded up there… how’re you gonna eat? How’ll you get dressed? And undressed? Supposing you fall? On your way, to the john . . . or something? Then what?”

“Well, I…”

“The perfect answer,” interrupted Susan, “is for you… you and Valerie… to be married! Think of it! For one thing, the two of you love one another! That much has been obvious . . . for a good long time! You do love her! Do you not, Jason?”

“Yes! Yes… of course! Of course I do!”

Turning to his fiancée, she challenged: “How about you, Valerie? Do you love him?”

“Certainly! Of course! Of course I love him! But I love him too much . . . way too much! Way too much, to have him feel like… like he’s being, you know, forced into something! Driven into something! Have him feel like his hands are tied! Feel like it’s… well, like it’s the only way he can survive!”

“Jason?” Susan’s eyes were boring into his!

“Of course I want to marry her! I love her!”

“Oh Jason,” gushed Valerie. “Truly? You truly want to be my husband? Have me . . . as your wife? And not . . . not just for the convenience of it? The only way you can… only way you can get to the stupid bathroom? The only way you can… ah… can survive?”

“When I stop to think of it… which is something I don’t do, often enough… I don’t really know how I’d ever survive! How I’d ever really survive… without you! I love you!”

“You know?” Valerie replied. “Maybe this ‘accident’ . . . was some sort of a message! Or, at least, a gift! From God!”

That declaration made Father Benjamin smile—broadly. It was the first time—in a long time.

“That was no damn accident,” growled Nicholas.

Alberta—who had yet to be heard from—was overcome, with emotion. Tears had been streaming down her face—since before Valerie and Jason had ever “gotten serious”!

“I just want you to know one thing.” Eric’s voice was also heavy with emotion. “This whole thing was thought up… and put together… by my wonderful wife. My, deviously-wonderful, wife! At first, I thought the whole campaign was… you know… was impossible! Stupid, even.”

He looked over at his spouse—who smiled, tenderly, back at him.

“At first,” he continued, “when I started to see the logic, I was looking, only, at the practical side of it. It does solve a lot of Jason’s logistical problems. Only Susie . . . could