Ch 2 P.2. Ahead Of His Time

Marle blinked and shook off the dark clouds. He reached out to steady himself against a navigation marquee. As his senses returned, he looked at his right hand, remembering a long wooden staff. He remembered waving it in front of himself to fend off the men with pikes. He recalled their bodies hitting the muddy yard with dull thuds. He recalled the nasty woman and the ragged man falling. He recalled the frightened squeals of the horses as they tumbled to the ground with the well-dressed man among them.

Where were they? Marle looked around, but everything he remembered was missing. He stood on an open tarmac before a closed hangar. It was evening. The flashing name on the marquee read Borden Field, Ringgold, Longshore. Marle knew his location, but it still made no sense. Why was he back on Earth and not in the Tin Can?

Not a soul stirred on the airfield; the office beside the hangar was dark, and the late summer sunset meant it was after hours. Looking beyond the hangar, Marle saw the silhouette of downtown Ringgold in the distance. He remembered leaving for the observatory in the fall; was he on Earth ahead of his departure? He needed information. He could walk into town, but he didn't relish the idea. Marle still wore the wizard robe and cap; he wore nothing underneath.

He needed clothing. As Marle walked toward the office, he folded the wizard cap and tucked it into an inner torso pocket left of the top button. He tried the door of the office and found it locked. Walking around the corner, Marle noticed a window that had been cracked to let in air. Summer nights in Longshore were sultry. With a furtive glance to his left and right, Marle raised the window and climbed through. He stood inside and listened; he wouldn't want to meet a guard dog.

If all went well, he would be in and out. Perhaps he would leave with information like a date. Perhaps he would find a pilot's jumpsuit or a pair of trousers. Then, he could walk into town. Marle crept forward through the dim interior. An office desk was before him, but without the proper security codes, the terminal was useless. He saw nothing on the desk. Marle found a small trash basket beside the desk and went through its contents, at last lifting a bill of lading into the dim light. The surprising date placed Marle ahead of his time.

Marle was on Earth before he shipped out. He could not fathom why. His port of departure was the CG Beaverdale Base east of Ringgold. The thing to do would be to contact his superiors, but what would he say? If he had really traveled back in time, he would convince no one; he was, in fact, not himself convinced, and thinking about it made his head hurt.

Marle turned his attention to the matter of clothing. Buttoning his robe, he looked around the office but found not so much as a coat rack. He tried the door between the office and the hangar. It was open. He stepped in and closed it behind him. With no windows, the hangar was dark, so Marle felt along the wall to his right and came to a stack of crates and a combination box. He remembered the matches in his sleeve pocket and gave a thought to striking one when his hand made contact with fabric.

The fabric was large and loose, somewhat bulky. Curious, Marle examined the fabric with his hands, finding seams and zippers. He didn't think it was a parachute, but he could not see it in the hangar, so Marle returned to the dim light of the office for further examination. He stood by the open window and shook it out.

What Marle held was an orange-colored wingsuit. It had multiple zippers and Velcro pull tabs. A wingsuit would not have been his first choice, but it had arms and legs. If he must walk to town, a wingsuit would be less embarrassing than a wizard robe and cap. It was all he had; he unzipped it, turned the office chair, seated himself, and pushed his boots through the legs.

Marle crawled out through the window. The sun was down. In the distance, Marle heard the rotors of an approaching helicopter. He walked around to the back of the hangar, facing the prospect of a long walk. As he set out across the empty parking lot, a sudden spotlight pierced the night.