Accidental Traveler: The Return

By Larry Tyree

It’s Christmas of 1945. World War II has ended only months before, and the country is looking forward to peace and prosperity. Has the sleepy town of Santa Fe, New Mexico, forgotten the 1938 disappearance of little Juan Pedro Padilla? The event remained a mystery to everyone—the eight-year-old child had vanished without a trace.

Over seven years later, a new puzzle is unfolding. A young man in the uniform of a U.S. Marine appears at Annie and Tyler’s ranch on Christmas Day. He claims to be Juan Pedro Padilla. Is it really him? But why he is a grown man? Where has he been? Annie used to baby sit the little boy and sees the resemblance, but— How could it be?

Throughout the day, he describes his past to Annie and the other Christmas guests, revealing a story of intrigue, bravery, tragic loss, and romance. Juan Pedro, like Annie’s husband Tyler, has unwittingly become an “accidental traveler,” flung into another time and another place. He’s seeking answers, answers that will change his life forever.

Will he discover his past? Or will he return to another time? And more importantly, what about his future?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Larry Tyree
• Release date: Apr 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386644194

Larry Tyree

Retired hotel executive Larry Tyree has spent most of his life working and living in the great Southwest, from the Superstition Mountains of Arizona to the mystical Sangre de Cristo Mountains of Santa Fe, New Mexico. He has acquired a unique perspective of the many unexplained happenings in the Southwest, from historical to recent events.As a young man, he was a law enforcement officer who met and dealt with many unforgettable characters along the Apache Trail of Arizona and throughout the mysterious Superstitions.Later, his hotel career took him to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Once again, he became intrigued with local accounts of extraordinary and unexplained occurrences. After having interviewed hundreds of people over the years, he has acquired insight into the exciting possibilities of a perhaps not so imaginary world of science fiction.Tyree lives near Phoenix, Arizona, with his wife Mary. Travel is their mutual passion, while the author remains alert for good story possibilities. Look for more adventures to come from Time Port Santa Fe. For further information, contact the author at [e-mail].

Book preview

Accidental Traveler

The Return

a novel

Larry Tyree

~~~~~

1

A gleaming blanket of soft white snow covered the vast, sprawling thousand-acre Sullivan Ranch just north of Santa Fe, not far from the village of Tesuque. It was December 25, 1945, another brisk New Mexico Christmas morning, and the sky above the land was a clear, deep turquoise blue.

Annie had gotten up long before dawn as was her family’s tradition on Christmas morning. Their traditions had started when she was just a small child growing up on the ranch. Her father Jack Sullivan and his wife Katherine had bought the spread in the early 1900s. Hard work and more than their fair share of ups and downs over the years had finally paid off, for the northern New Mexico ranch was prospering at last.

Although Jack and Katherine were both gone now, Annie continued the meaningful celebration that had always taken place, as if her parents were still there. Calling on her memories of those wonderful early Santa Fe Christmases, she decorated the old adobe ranch house where she lived with her husband of almost a year, Tyler Farnsworth.

As they had the previous year, Annie and Ty made the trek toward Chupadaro to the side of Santa Fe Peak to find a tall New Mexico pine to place next to their vast stone fireplace. This year was no exception. The tree was almost twelve feet tall. Annie could hardly contain herself until Christmas morning, and now it was finally here.

Upstairs in their bedroom, Tyler awoke to the aroma of the plump turkey roasting in the oven. Soon their guests would start arriving. He hurriedly dressed and headed for the kitchen where Annie would have a steaming hot cup of coffee waiting for him.

Carlos and Miguel, the longtime Sullivan ranch hands, always came up from the bunkhouse for Christmas breakfast. It was a tradition that Annie and her mother had observed ever since the two men started working for Annie’s father many years before.

Surprising them, Salvador Cabrera accepted the invitation for their Christmas celebration. Their time travel companion from the mysterious United Forces Federation and a regular visitor to the equally mysterious Time Port Santa Fe had also become a close friend. Annie and Tyler might live on a working ranch in northern New Mexico, but the routine of their daily lives were hardly mundane.

Merry Christmas, my love. Tyler wrapped his arms around Annie and kissed her tenderly, pushing aside her long blond ponytail to brush another kiss on her neck. Any coffee left? He tried reaching for the freshly baked jalapeño cornbread that she was keeping warm on top of the stove. Please, blue eyes? he begged, trying flattery in the face of inevitable failure.

Don’t even think about it, cowboy! She shook her head vehemently, making the blond ponytail swing back and forth. That’s for Carlos and Miguel. If you’re lucky, maybe they’ll share with you while we open our presents.

A brisk knock on the kitchen door announced the arrival of their two longtime faithful ranch hands. Annie cheerily opened the door and gave each man a big hug.

"Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad, mí amigos!" She greeted them with the wide, gracious smile that had made the former Santa Fe High homecoming queen well known around town. Here, she said, pouring each of them a steaming mug of coffee.

Tyler shook hands with the two men. Merry Christmas!

Okay! Annie tossed her apron over a chair. Let’s go into the parlor and open presents. I can’t wait!

Once more, just like last Christmas and every Christmas before, Annie felt like a little girl experiencing her first Christmas morning all over again. She gathered everyone closely around the tree. The little carousel Annie had given her mother on a previous Christmas was placed prominently near the tree.

Carlos! Miguel! she exclaimed. I can’t wait to give you your presents. And you too, Tyler, she said fondly and blew him a kiss. But first, there’s something else special. She pulled out the new record album she’d recently purchased at Woolworth’s. It was entitled White Christmas. She placed it on the turntable of the upright mahogany Motorola radio and record player. Instantly Bing Crosby started to croon the familiar words of the title song.

Annie clapped her hands and sat down in front of their soaring tree.

Tyler met her eyes. I’m overcome, he said softly and tenderly. It’s great watching the love of my life create more memorable times for our life together.

Do you have the Kodak? she asked. "I want to make sure we have plenty of photos so Miguel and Carlos can send them to their families in Mexico.

Right here, my dear. Tyler held up the camera for her to see.

Annie pulled two large, gaily wrapped boxes from under the tree. She handed one to Miguel and one to Carlos.

The ranch hands nodded and smiled. "Gracias," each man murmured.

It was pretty much her tradition to give them clothing they could use, especially for the cold New Mexico winters. This year was no exception. Annie had selected a calf-hide winter jacket, matching gloves, and a new black Stetson for each of them. This year, she had also included a pair of custom made western riding boots.

And as usual, Carlos and Miguel seemed quite pleased and expressed their gratitude. Over the years, they had watched Annie grow from a little girl to a beautiful young woman. They had always enjoyed watching her follow her father, Jack Sullivan, around the ranch when she was a youngster. She had become an accomplished rider by the age of eight and was training horses when she was twelve. For Carlos and Miguel, this was their fifteenth holiday celebration on Sullivan Ranch. 

Okay, Mr. Farnsworth, now it’s your turn. Her eyes shimmered and the corners of her mouth turned up as she fought to keep from breaking into a wide smile. She leaned over to kiss him and handed him a small flat box that was smartly wrapped in green paper and finished with a large red bow.

Tyler tore into the box; inside was an elaborate silver and turquoise belt buckle. It’s beautiful, Annie!

I had it made special for you. She seemed about to burst with anticipation. Turn it over!

He did as he was told. He held up the buckle: inscribed on the back were the words: It’s Our Time—Love, Annie 1945. It’s magnificent Annie. I love it. Now, it’s time for your present. Let’s go outside.

Outside, why?

Don’t ask questions, my love. Just shut your pretty eyes. Carlos and Miguel will lead you out.

Obediently, she waited on the porch, the ranch hands by her side.

Okay, you can open your eyes now, Tyler said.

Before them, parked in the drive, was a shiny, new turquoise Ford station wagon. Sullivan Ranch was smartly painted on the door.

Annie stared for a moment and then jumped up and down, squealing with delight. How did you get it? They haven’t made production cars for almost three years.

It was one of the last ones made in 1942 before Ford switched over to military vehicles. A dealer in Gallup had bought it for his wife. They put it in storage and never drove it. It’s been in his garage ever since. I was able to talk him out of it.

I absolutely love it, Tyler. It’s beautiful.

Carlos and Miguel were busy inspecting the wagon when Sal Cabrera arrived and joined the group. "Feliz Navidad, mí amigos."

Sal was a tall, slender, and distinguished Hispanic gentleman who always dressed impeccably. Even his hands were long and slender, reminding Annie of a musician’s hands. With gray hair and a closely trimmed beard and neat moustache, he looked the part of an ambassador, which he actually was.

Annie threw her arms around their newly arrived guest and hugged him. Look what my sweetheart gave me for Christmas, Sal. Isn’t it marvelous?

The tall, dignified gentleman studied the shiny 1942 Ford. It certainly is, Annie.

Annie wondered how different this car might appear to their friend who came from such a different time. However, now was not the time to bring it up, not with Carlos and Miguel present. Strangely, they never questioned Sal’s arrivals, how he had come, without car or other means of transportation, always dressed in dignified, almost formal, attire, much unlike the locals they knew. 

We’re so glad you could join us, Sal, Tyler said. You won’t believe what a fantastic Christmas dinner Annie’s prepared.

Everything’s ready. So let’s have dinner. Then maybe we can all take the new car for a spin. Annie bubbled with excitement. What a great Christmas!

The group was gathering around the dining room table, situated close to the warmth of another stone fireplace, when there was a knock on the door.

Sal winked in Annie’s direction. Are you expecting more Christmas surprises?

2

Who in the world could it be on Christmas? Annie headed for the entryway, followed by an equally curious Tyler. Smiling, she opened the tall, carved door. Merry Christmas! she greeted the new arrival. Anyone on a cold, snowy day deserved a warm welcome on Christmas, invited or not.

Before her was another slender and quite good-looking Hispanic man whom she guessed was probably in his twenties. Dressed in a neatly pressed, olive drab military uniform, he respectfully held his cap before him in both hands. The finely napped wool trousers were soft but fresh in appearance.

Tyler noticed several service ribbons above his left breast pocket. The young man was definitely a Marine. Merry Christmas, soldier, he said politely.

Annie looked at the soldier curiously for a brief moment. Can I help you? She started to speak, but then a chill ran up her spine. Eyes wide, her mouth opened as tears started to trickle down her cheek. Juan Pedro? She asked softly, her voice starting to tremble. Is that really you? She tried to choke back her tears.

Yes, Miss Annie. It’s me, Juan Pedro Padilla.

Sobbing, she threw her arms around him. But you’re all grown up. I don’t understand.

I’m looking for my family, Miss Annie. I stopped by our old house at Rancho Santa Cruz, but it was empty. So it was obvious they’re no longer there. Can you tell me where they are?

The rest of the group had joined Annie and Tyler by the front door.

We have so much to catch up on, Juan, Annie was saying. We all thought something terrible had happened to you. What should she say? Sal understood, but what about Miguel and Carlos? Luckily, neither was fluent in English, but still, somethings they would certainly understand anyway.

I never knew what happened myself until recently. Somehow, I ended up in Texas. It took me years to find out who I really was. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you what I know, but my first priority is to find my mother and father.

Annie glanced over at Tyler and then at Sal. They knew the story, of course. They had also learned from their time-traveling friend Sal that she would have to be extremely careful what she said: You can’t change history without causing a chain reaction that could be catastrophic.

She gulped and continued with what could be shared at the moment. Juan, this is my husband, Tyler Farnsworth. And I’d like you to meet our good friend, Salvador Cabrera. You probably remember Carlos and Miguel. The two vaqueros shook hands with Juan, but the young man appeared to only vaguely recognize them.

"Feliz Navidad, amigo." Miguel smiled warmly and grasped his hand.

How are your parents, Annie? Juan Pedro asked, still holding himself quite erect, a proper Marine even in a social setting. Are they here?

No, Juan, sadly they’re both gone now. Her voice caught, trembling with emotion. It’s just Tyler and me. And of course Carlos and Miguel.

I’m sorry, Annie. Juan Pedro looked around him uncertainly. Do you know where my parents are? Are they okay? But— Why did they leave Rancho Santa Cruz?

She was trying to put off answering his questions. We were just about to sit down for Christmas dinner. Come join us and we can catch up.

Please, Miss Annie, all my friends call me JP. I’ve kind of gotten used to it over the years.

Okay, JP. Well, at the moment, I don’t know exactly where your parents are. But, the last time we saw them, they were in good health. Annie again rolled her eyes at Tyler and Sal, seeking help. What should she say?

In the dining room, the long oak table was set with linen and fine china. Following their custom, the chair at the head of the table was still reserved for Annie’s father Jack and the one beside it for her mother Katherine. Traditionally, a centerpiece of freshly cut pine branches and pine cones adorned the middle of the table, much as it had for the past fifteen years—longer than Annie could remember.

And the feast was lavish and traditional as well. In addition to the succulent roasted turkey with fresh dressing, there were ranch-grown potatoes, carrots, yellow corn, yams, and freshly baked rolls. The festive meal was reminiscent of those her mother always prepared. On the hutch, two apple pies were set out for dessert.

Miguel nodded toward the pies. "Muy delicioso," he murmured appreciatively. We smell them baking even in the bunkhouse.

Annie, always a gracious hostess, offered grace in English and Spanish.

Although conversation remained light and pleasant, Annie was unsure what to say to Juan Pedro. Tyler and Sal were probably wondering too.

But— Tyler turned aside and whispered to Sal, He should be only thirteen or fourteen years old! What in the world should we say?

Annie vividly recalled celebrating Juan Pedro’s eighth birthday with him and his family. That was just seven years ago. She also vividly remembered the day JP disappeared.

3

Little Juan Pedro Padilla had simply vanished; he was only eight years old. It had been a clear, beautiful Sunday morning, September 25, 1938.

The Padilla family had returned to the ranch around noon from the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Santa Fe where they attended Mass on Sundays. Juan jumped from his father’s battered old Ford pickup and charged into the house to change clothes. His mother Maria recalled that he grabbed his wide-brimmed felt hat and the Daisy Red Ryder BB gun that his father had given him for his last birthday and headed for the barn where his dog Diego was waiting for him. They started walking down the winding trail that led to an arroyo behind a stand of lofty pine trees. That was the last time his parents or anyone else ever saw Juan Pedro.

His mother once confided in Annie that when Juan was old enough, he and his dog were allowed to roam their ranch together. Although he was small for his age, Juan was bright, trustworthy, and highly inquisitive.

Rancho Santa Cruz consisted of low hills carved with arroyos and dotted with New Mexico scrub piñon. It was home to the family’s growing herd of range cattle. There were also Maria’s chickens; she would sell their eggs at the general store in Tesuque. The Padilla family had purchased the ranch before Juan Pedro was born. Shortly after his birth, he had been christened at Our Lady of Guadalupe in Santa Fe where the family attended Mass on Sunday and on Holy Days.

Over eight years, they had constructed a modest adobe ranch house. Later, they built a corral and, after a few years, finally a barn. Señor Gabriel Padilla was the hardworking and proud owner of what he and Maria would call Rancho Santa Cruz, named for the region in Mexico where their ancestors had lived for five generations.

Juan’s father Gabriel Padilla was a hard worker. His enthusiasm and drive always made up for any lack of wealth; he had learned about raising cattle from his father and grandfather. Like many fathers, he dreamed of a better life for his son, and he had visions of someday having a much larger herd for Juan to manage.

As evening approached on that September 25, 1938, both Gabriel and Maria were concerned, but Gabriel Padilla hid his anxiety better than his wife. An hour later, the faithful dog Diego wandered back to the house, alone. He had never before left Juan’s side.

Gabriel Padilla spoke. Maria, look at the dog. He’s nervous.

Sí, she said. He keeps pacing back and forth. It’s as if he wants us to do something—or tell us something important.

We must find help. Gabriel said.

A few minutes later, Maria arrived at the Sullivans’ where she bolted from the truck almost before it rolled to a stop. Help! she called out. "Help us! Por favor!"

~~~~~

Tyler was speaking to her. Isn’t that right, Annie?

Annie jolted from her reverie. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts of memories from eight years ago. Excuse me? What?

I said, ‘We found the perfect tree again this year. Almost twelve feet tall.’

Oh, yeah. The tree. We had a heck of time getting it home. She was still thinking of Juan and the pain his parents had endured. How in the world would they ever explain that his parents were so distraught that they sold the ranch and moved away, somewhere deep into Mexico?

JP wiped his mouth with the large linen napkin. I’ve sure missed home-cooking, Miss Annie. It’s mighty good.

Sal smiled and nodded. Always delicious, Annie. He spent several moments studying JP and then turned to Tyler, speaking softly, We’ll need to talk, my friends.

At last they finished Annie’s lavish Christmas dinner.

Let’s retire to the parlor, JP, Annie said. You can tell us where you’ve been.

Tyler pushed back from the table. "Obviously, you’ve been in the service. From the looks