The Final Mystery of Eagle Falls

By Dennis Prokop

The Final Mystery of Eagle Falls finds George Huntington, his wife, Laura, and their two-year-old son, Bobby, living a tranquil life on his grandfather’s small farm near the town of Eagle Falls, West Virginia. That tranquility was first broken when George’s grandfather uncharacteristically became entangled with the Department of Justice when he tried to sell undocumented diamonds acquired in his past. Then, the town’s mysterious past and Laura’s Native American heritage seemed to collide and create sinister occurrences that somehow involved Bobby and grew in intensity as time went on.

The young family quickly became desperate to end the frightening episodes and to understand the clues that seemed to point to the spirit world being involved. With nowhere else to turn, Laura reluctantly contacted Byron Bradley, an old love interest that she hadn’t seen in years, for help. With Byron’s ancestral archaeologist background including his expertise on Native American folklore and the spirit world, a risky all-or-nothing plan was developed to thwart Bobby’s unwanted visitors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781662400797

Book preview

cover.jpg

The Final Mystery of Eagle Falls

Dennis M. Prokop

Copyright © 2020 Dennis M. Prokop

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2020

ISBN 978-1-6624-0078-0 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-0079-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 1

Something Is Amiss

George Huntington, a currently-by-choice unemployed thirty-five-year-old house husband, was again sitting on the back porch of his grandfather’s farmhouse late at night. The same farmhouse he had so often visited while growing up in the small town of Eagle Falls, West Virginia. He now shares the farmhouse and all his wonderful childhood memories with Laura, his wife of almost four years, and his nearly two-and-a-half-year-old son, Bobby. With his eyes tightly closed while leaning back in an old brown leather recliner that had been on the porch for as long as George could remember, he was still mesmerized after all these years by the high-pitched whistling sound of the wind blowing through the many large pine trees that surround and protect the farmhouse from the elements and any other approaching unknowns that might be living or hiding in the adjacent century-old woods. The tranquil moment was broken by the familiar voice of George’s wife, Laura, who was standing in the kitchen doorway to the porch. Slightly irritated, she asked, George, it’s almost midnight. When are you coming to bed? Some of us have to get up early and go to work.

Yes, I remember. I’ll be right behind you.

Please be quiet when you do, I just got Bobby back to sleep. He must have inherited your sleep patterns.

You know I will be quiet, my shift is about to start.

Very funny, George, just be quiet.

George took one last extralong deep breath, and as he exhaled, he leaned forward and stood up and out of the recliner. He staggered a few steps before he again gained his balance and then slowly started the short walk through the kitchen and dining room to the hallway that led to both his young son’s and his and Laura’s bedrooms. Remembering Laura’s request to be quiet, George slowly opened the door to their bedroom at a ridiculously slow speed that did not go unnoticed by Laura, who was now sitting up in bed, staring at George with the look. Laura’s look was reserved for those special occasions when she was irritated with George but verbal communications were not appropriate. George could feel Laura’s dark auburn eyes peering at him even before turning around and giving her one of his patented little boyish smiles as he quickly removed his clothes. As she reached over and pulled back the bedcovers for him on his side of the bed, she commented, Okay, funnyman, just get in bed, and don’t even think about keeping me awake any longer.

George doesn’t respond verbally, but as he crawled into his side of the bed, he changed his boyish grin into a boyish frown that caused Laura to respond by turning her head from side to side, overly emphasizing the answer was still no. George finally responded, Okay, okay, just give me my kiss good night and I’ll let you get some sleep.

George turned and leaned over to receive his familiar good-night kiss. But before his lips could find Laura’s, the silence of the bedroom was broken by the faint sounds of laughter then the louder sounds of someone talking and giggling. The sounds could only be coming from their son Bobby’s bedroom, at first very subtle but then the laughter grew louder and louder. George did manage to finally receive his kiss before turning onto his back, but after he continued to listen to his young son’s loud laughter for several more minutes, George asked, What do you think that’s all about?

Maybe he’s dreaming, Laura replied, not really sounding very convincing.

I know it’s my shift, I’ll go check on him, George commented as he threw off the bedcovers, reluctantly got out of bed, and grabbed his bathrobe. He slowly walked down the hallway and stopped just outside his son’s bedroom door. George continued standing there, listening to his son’s laughter until it finally stopped. Thinking maybe his son really was dreaming, he slowly opened the door far enough to see into the dimly lit bedroom, hoping to find Bobby sleeping. George was not surprised to see Bobby standing in the corner of his crib looking straight at him. George entered the room, and after he slowly walked over to the crib, he quietly whispered, Who were you talking to?

Grandpa.

Well, it’s too late at night to be playing with Grandpa. Let’s get back under the covers and maybe we can go and visit Grandpa tomorrow.

George kissed his son on the forehead before helping him get back under his favorite blanket, and now with his son’s head on his pillow, George leaned over gave him another kiss before leaving the bedroom. Upon his return, but before George could climb back into his side of the bed, Laura asked, What was going on in there?

Not sure, Bobby said he was playing with Grandpa.

That’s odd. The other day Bobby was playing out on the porch while I was in the kitchen going through some files that I had brought home from work. He was talking continuously for about fifteen minutes. I finally had to go out there and see what he was up to. I asked him who he was talking to, and he also replied he was talking to Grandpa. It seems that our son has an imaginary playmate friend who he calls Grandpa.

That’s not so odd. I’m more concerned that he hardly says anything unless you ask him a direct question. He’s nearly thirty months old, he should start talking more. But laughing and playing with your imaginary great-grandfather in the middle of the night, now that’s a little odd. Maybe Bobby and I should try and get a visit in with my grandfather. He should be feeling better by now, it’s been nearly two weeks since he came down with that cold.

George, if you must, can he come here for a visit? There are always so many people that are sick over at his assisted living home, even I don’t feel good about going over there.

We can figure something out. You do know we owe him a lot for all the help he has been to us since we took him up on his offer to move into his farmhouse after our honeymoon.

Yes, I remember, George. Don’t remind me about our wonderful honeymoon.

Laura Huntington, do I detect a little sarcasm in your voice about our honeymoon?

No, George, everyone living and getting married in New York City in 1994 would love to go to Eagle Falls, Virginia, for their honeymoon. Now that’s sarcasm!

That would be West Virginia, my dear. And let me remind you of all the nice things you had to say about it while we were hiding out here from the real world for three weeks.

All right, all right, I did have a wonderful time. Let’s not discuss it at midnight.

I’m glad you changed your mind. Did you change your mind about anything else?

Nope.

Okay then, sleep well. George leaned over and stole another kiss from Laura’s upper cheek because it was the only exposed part of Laura’s face above her blanket. Not detecting any additional movement, George again rolled over onto his side of the bed and turned off the light.

George’s alarm clock, the birds singing at daybreak, went off well before Laura’s clock-radio made a sound. George wasn’t his usual quick self to roll out of bed today. He had finally managed to fall asleep after Bobby’s late-night antics, but it was much later than usual, even for him. He was reluctant to get out of bed as he replayed the events of last evening in his head over and over while he continued to stare up at the ceiling. After mentally finalizing a list of must-do items for the day, George gently rolled the blankets back and quietly got dressed and tiptoed out of the bedroom. Successfully getting up without waking Laura was always a plus. George now slowly closed the bedroom door and headed straight for the kitchen to start the morning coffee. While the coffee was brewing, George’s normal morning routine was to check on Bobby, which he did. He quietly returned to Bobby’s bedroom, and after peeking through the slightly open bedroom door, he was happy to see him still peacefully asleep in his crib. That left a few extra minutes of peace and quiet to enjoy that first cup of coffee out on the porch in that old recliner. Standing next to the coffeepot, waiting for it to finish brewing, George was like a kid at the movie theater waiting for the movie to start. Finally, with his cup filled to the brim with freshly brewed coffee, George slowly and carefully walked out onto the porch. Now, full coffee cup in hand, sitting in that old recliner on the porch, George was the picture of contentment.

George’s contentment only lasted about halfway through that first cup of coffee. He could now hear Bobby starting to cry. Gulping down the rest of the cup of coffee, George was heading toward Bobby’s bedroom when he almost literally ran into Laura in the hallway. George, apologizing, said, Sorry, Laura, I was hoping to get to Bobby before he woke you up.

No problem, George, I’ll get Bobby dressed. Give me a kiss good morning and go enjoy your morning coffee, I know how much you enjoy your coffee out on the porch.

Thanks, Laura, I won’t argue with you about that, George responded, then gave Laura a brief kiss on the lips, and turned toward the kitchen.

George had Laura’s cup of coffee prepared just the way she liked it waiting for her, and he also had Bobby’s high chair next to the kitchen table with his juice and cereal on it. George was trying to get that first cup of coffee finished out on the porch, when he heard Laura call out, Thanks, George.

George walked through the back door to the kitchen and commented, I do appreciate you helping with Bobby, but why did you get up so early? There’s a reason they call it banker’s hours.

Laura turned toward George, and with her voice at a level George seldom heard, Laura replied, George Huntington, just because the bank doesn’t open its doors for business until 9:00 a.m., doesn’t mean I don’t start work until then. I have new mortgages to process, appraisers to contact, and calls to return. You have no idea how many people depend on me every day.

There was a long uncomfortable moment of silence that was finally broken when Bobby slammed his juice cup down on his high chair’s tray. Both George and Laura glanced at each other and simultaneously broke into a smile. George quickly responded, Well, Bobby agrees with you. I know you’re very busy at work, I guess I was just trying to make light of a popular saying.

I’m sorry too, George, I guess I’m a little sensitive because everyone at work thinks my desk is a landing spot for every problem that comes up.

Well, if you ever get to the point where you want to or need a change, Brian assures me my old job at the advertising company is still available.

George, I don’t want you commuting from New York City every week like you did when we were first married and I’m not ready to move back there either.

Okay, but just remember we have options, so if we have to make a change, we can. Anyway, you better get ready for work, Bobby and I will be just fine. I plan on calling my grandfather this morning, and if he can’t get that old Buick started, I’ll go down to his assisted living home and pick him up. I’m not sure who he wants to visit more, this old farm or Bobby.

Just don’t let him take Bobby for a ride in his car. I know he drives pretty well for being almost eighty-two years old, but his car is almost as old as he is, and it doesn’t have any seat belts in it either.

Come on, Laura, the Buick is only forty-five years old, a 1953 model, and he loves to give Bobby a ride in it.

Humor me on this one, George, not even if you drive the Buick.

Okay, okay. No giving Bobby a ride in the old Buick. You do remember we had some memorable rides in that Buick too?

Laura had taken a few steps into the dining room before she stopped to think about George’s last comment. She slowly returned to the kitchen and in a totally different and somewhat serious tone replied, George, you have to remember that was a different lifetime. We can’t even compare then to now. We have a new life to live together now, and we are parents of a beautiful baby boy.

George walked over to where Laura was standing and, without saying anything, held her for a moment, reached up, and brushed back her dark auburn bangs a little before kissing her first on the forehead and then a long full kiss on the lips. A moment later he whispered, I understand all of that, but our past makes us who we are.

Laura failed to respond to George’s last comment but returned a brief kiss on George’s lips then turned around and continued on to the bedroom to get dressed and ready to go to work. George returned to the kitchen table and, after picking up some of the dry cereal that Bobby had pushed off his tray, poured another cup of coffee and sat down at the table. A short time later, Laura returned to the kitchen for a kiss goodbye from both George and Bobby and commented, Have a great day, be careful, and I won’t be late tonight.

Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. You have a great day too.

After a short goodbye wave from everyone, even Bobby, Laura disappeared through the dining room, and a few seconds later, George heard the front door shut. He looked over in Bobby’s direction and commented, Well, kid, we’re on our own.

George was still sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee watching Bobby’s labor-intensive attempt at eating cereal from his tray, when the seldom heard doorbell briefly rang. Not responding to the initial sound, thinking maybe George was hearing things, the doorbell again rang, this time continuously for about ten seconds. More curious than anything else, George walked to the front door to see who must be apparently lost. He opened the door and noticed a young man dressed in a long black topcoat. He had short blond hair and heavy black rim glasses. When George looked down, he noticed the man’s black shoes were polished to look almost like patent leather. The silence was broken when the man asked, Good morning, sir, I’m looking for George Huntington?

Who’s asking? George responded as he looked down again and noticed the young man was holding out a business card in his left hand.

My name is Gerald Niemeyer, with the US Department of Justice.

Sorry, I thought you might be selling magazine subscriptions or something like that, George commented, then stared down at the business card he was just handed. He then added, What can I help you with, Mr. Niemeyer?

Are you George Huntington?

Yes, I am, but if you want to talk, we have to do it in the kitchen. I have a two-year-old in a high chair eating breakfast.

George allowed the young man into the house, and after closing the front door, led him into the kitchen, where Bobby was still attempting to get the cereal from the high chair’s tray into his mouth. George commented, Please sit down. Can I get you a cup of coffee?

Thank you, and no thank you on the coffee. I never touch the stuff.

Okay, sorry to hear that, but what brings the Department of Justice to George Huntington’s front door so early in the morning?

We, or I should say I am looking for a few answers regarding a Robert Huntington. Do you know the man?

I know of a Robert Huntington, he’s my grandfather. But I’m sure you know that because this is his farm, I’m not even listed on the mailbox. He’s eighty-some years old and lives in an assisted-living facility just north of Eagle Falls.

That would be the Robert Huntington that we are interested in obtaining some additional information on.

Okay, what can I tell you about my grandfather? George replied as he leaned back in his kitchen chair, still clutching to his almost-empty cup of coffee.

George, I work in the Special Intelligence Department, and we were notified of an incident that occurred a few weeks ago that involved your grandfather. A jewelry store here in Eagle Falls notified us about someone wanting to sell a large amount of diamonds. Some of the diamonds were industrial diamonds, but many were domestic diamonds. George, we at the Department of Justice take the sale of unregistered diamonds very seriously.

There was a pause in the conversation, and George was not sure if he should respond or if there still was something additional to be said by Mr. Niemeyer. George finally stated, There has to be some kind of a mistake.

He was looking straight into the eyes of Mr. Niemeyer, and if George was not mistaken, it seemed like Mr. Niemeyer was a little lost for words. The silence was now becoming embarrassingly long. George finally broke the silence when he asked, Mr. Niemeyer, how long have you worked for the Department of Justice?

Well, it’s been quite a long time. Why do you ask?

I’m sorry, but something is wrong with all of this. My grandfather is a retired handyman. He drives a forty-year-old car. He’s a coupon saver and hasn’t bought a new pair of shoes in ten years. Unless you’re proposing he found a lost bag of diamonds and failed to return them to the proper authorities. But knowing my grandfather, I’m sure he would have done the right thing even then, had he found something of any real value.

There was another short pause before Mr. Niemeyer responded, First, please call me Gerald, or you can call me Gerry. No, this is business, but you can still call me Gerald. You are right, this is the first case I’ve been assigned to work on by myself. My boss told me it probably was nothing, but I should look into the history of the diamonds. Your grandfather seemed to be a very nice senior citizen, and I enjoyed talking with him at his apartment. But…

There was another pause, and before it got embarrassingly long again, George asked, All right, Gerald, what’s the real problem? You met my grandfather, there has to be a mistake. He doesn’t have any diamonds.

But that is the problem. He showed me the diamonds. When I asked him where he got them from, he said it was years ago and he couldn’t remember. George, your grandfather wasn’t a very good liar. When I asked him again, he said he had them in a safety deposit box, and he didn’t know where he got them from, and maybe you would know because your wife works at the bank. George, it’s not against the law to own diamonds, especially old diamonds. However, according to Mr. Davies at the Brooke Jewelry Store here in Eagle Falls, the diamonds your grandfather has are very old diamonds. All I need is a reasonable answer as to where they came from.

I guess I can ask him about it. I was planning to talk to him today. Can I get back to you in a day or two?

No problem George. Please let me know as soon as possible. I don’t want to report the multiple answers your grandfather gave me to my superiors, they don’t think age has anything to with being untruthful. Oh, by the way, he was telling the truth about the safety deposit box. He closed out his long-standing lease of it two weeks ago.

George stood up and walked Mr. Niemeyer back to the front door. After opening it, George commented, Thanks for bringing this to my attention, I’ll try to get to the bottoms of this as soon as possible.

You’re welcome. You have a wonderful grandfather and son too.

George stood with the door open and watched while Mr. Niemeyer got back into his car and started to back it up. He then closed the door and returned to the kitchen first to check on Bobby and then to use the phone to call his grandfather. He noticed Bobby’s tray was empty and wondered how much of the cereal ever made it into his mouth. George commented, I hope you had enough breakfast to hold you for a while, it’s time to play with your toys in the dining room, while I talk to your great-grandfather.

George placed Bobby down on the floor in the dining room, retrieved a few of his favorite toys to surround him with, and then walked across the room to the wall phone with a cord on the receiver, long enough to reach the kitchen. George was standing at the phone with his hand on the receiver, trying to mentally compose the conversation that he needed to have with his grandfather. He was about to dial his number when a crazy thought entered his head, could the Department of Justice be listening to his phone conversation with his grandfather, and could his grandfather really have a large amount of unregistered diamonds? This is all crazy, but maybe, just to be safe, he should talk to his grandfather in person. George still decided to call his grandfather, if for no other reason than to see if he was well enough for a visit. He dialed his number. The phone was ringing, but there was no answer. George was about to hang up the receiver when he heard a familiar voice reply, Hello, it’s your nickel.

Good morning, Grandpa, how are you feeling today?

George. How nice it is to hear from my favorite grandson.

George has heard this reference from his grandfather since he was a small boy, and he always responded the same way, Grandpa, you know I’m your only grandson.

I know, I know, but you’re still my favorite.

Well, thank you again for that. Anyway, I’m calling to see if you’re feeling well enough for a visit? Bobby and I can pick you up and bring you back to the farmhouse for a little lunch.

That would be nice, but I’ve got a couple of things I’m trying to take care of that are kind of important. Maybe we could get together tomorrow?

I’m not sure what those things are, but if they have something to do with the bank where Laura works, we should probably talk before you do anything else.

There’s a brief pause, then George’s grandfather finally responded, Maybe you’re right, George. The old Buick is running just fine, I can drive over to the farmhouse and see you guys in about an hour. Will that work for you?

That will work out just fine for us. See you soon, and drive carefully.

George, it’s only about three miles to the farmhouse. I could drive the whole way in reverse and still be there without a problem.

I know, but I still worry about you.

Well, just don’t be like everyone else around here and think I’m getting too old to take care of myself.

Nobody thinks you’re getting old.

Right. There’s another short pause before George’s grandfather ends the conversation with, I’ll see you shortly.

George placed the receiver back on the phone and looked down at Bobby and announced, We have to get you ready for a visit from your favorite great-grandfather. George paused after making that reference, thinking, Bobby you only have one great-grandfather. Matter of fact, you only have one grandfather too. Now I’m starting to sound like my grandfather, George muttered under his breath. He bent over and picked up Bobby and walked toward Bobby’s bedroom to change his juice-stained shirt. On the way, George whispered, I don’t want to make you any promises, but if I have a say in it, you won’t have to worry about being an only child either.

George changed Bobby’s clothes and returned him to his play area on the floor in the dining room. He spent a few minutes picking up some of the extra toys and quickly started to clean up the kitchen. He knew when his grandfather said, he’ll be over shortly, that really meant as fast as he could. George barely had time to rinse out the coffee cups when he saw his grandfather’s Buick drive past the kitchen window and not stop until it was all the way back by the garage in the rear yard. He heard the car door shut, and a minute later he heard the porch screen door open and a loud, familiar Lucy, I’m home, called out.

Grandpa, why do you always drive way back by the garage? You could park right next to the house and save yourself the long walk, George commented as his grandfather stepped into the kitchen from the porch.

They say walking is good for someone at my age, and that’s where I have always parked the Buick, I’m not about to change now, George’s grandfather replied, as he stopped to lean on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, obviously slightly winded from the walk. A moment later he asked, Where’s Bobby?

He’s in the dining room playing with some of his toys. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Sorry, but the coffee is a little old.

George, we don’t start throwing away things around here just because they’re getting a little old. I’ll take some of that coffee of yours, but first, I want to see Bobby. You know he’s my favorite great-grandson. George’s grandfather finally let go of the chair he was leaning on and walked toward the dining room. George stood there in silence, shaking his head back and forth in response to another favorite reference from his grandfather.

As soon as Bobby noticed George’s grandfather walking into the dining room, he gave out a little squeal, and after clapping his hands together several times, called out, Pa-Pa, Pa-Pa.

The unsolicited show of excitement created a smile from ear to ear on George’s grandfather’s face, followed by his imitating Bobby’s level of excitement, clapping his hands and calling out his great grandson’s name, Bobby, Bobby. How’s Grandpa’s big boy doing today?

Not really expecting an answer, George’s grandfather bent over, picked Bobby up, and gave him a long hug before carrying him back to the kitchen, where George was sitting down at the kitchen table anticipating their return. As they both joined him at the kitchen table, George commented, He really gets excited when he sees you.

Well, the feeling is mutual. George’s grandfather replied, and now had Bobby sitting on one of his knees while he was slightly bouncing him up and down, to Bobby’s delight.

George had watched his grandfather’s continuous attempt at balancing Bobby on one knee using one hand and trying to drink his coffee with his other hand, when he had to eventually comment, Come on, Grandpa, let me put Bobby back in the dining room. You can play with him later. I have a few important things to discuss with you that require your full attention.

George had to almost pull Bobby out of his grandfather’s arms before he fully released his grip on his great-grandson. Now with Bobby back in the dining room, George sat back down at the kitchen table and stated, I had a visitor earlier today from the Department of Justice. He said he had talked to you about some diamonds. Grandpa, what’s going on?

George’s grandfather turned and twisted a little in his kitchen chair, before he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table and stared down into his coffee cup rather than making eye contact with George. Then he finally replied, George, I really messed up. I would like to blame it on being old, but this started a long time ago, and I actually was trying to end it, when things started to get complicated.

George could see that his grandfather was really feeling uncomfortable talking about this, but at least he was finally making eye contact. George was reluctant to add any additional stress to the situation, so he calmly asked, When did this all start?

It all started shortly after I discovered that stupid bridge that allowed me to cross into the past. Now don’t get me wrong, I know I wouldn’t be here to be in this trouble without it. So it’s not like I’m ungrateful for it or for you and Bonita helping me live a little longer. And we were able to right a lot of wrongs and help a few other people along the way too.

George attempted to stop his grandfather for a moment by holding up the palm of his hand like a traffic cop. Then he stated, Grandpa, we have to call Bonita, Laura. It’s just too complicated to explain, even harder than your time-traveling bridge into the past. So please?

I know, I know. I was just trying to explain how all this happened, and my mind was working in the past tense. You know what I mean.

George nodded his head in agreement as George’s grandfather continued his explanation. I was doing some construction repair work for one of the local business owners, Jack Brooke, the real estate guy, I think you even had a few conversations with Jack. George’s grandfather paused and glanced in George’s direction.

After George again nodded his head in agreement and whispered, Yes, I have met the man.

George’s grandfather continued, I was working on one of his rental properties, and Jack mentioned that along with owning some houses, he also had owned the jewelry store here in Eagle Falls for more than thirty years. He said if he could do anything over again, he would have invested more in diamonds and less in houses. Well, everyone knows how much real estate prices had gone up over the years, especially the last few years, so that statement really got me thinking. I know how much I preached in my journal and mentioned it to you in person, how even the smallest interference in history could change the future dramatically, but a few old diamonds, what could that hurt? George’s grandfather again paused and looked over in George’s direction, hoping to again see that nod of approval. Even without seeing it, he continued, Well, somebody had to own them, you know they are almost indestructible. What harm could that do, and besides, I wanted to do something nice financially for your dad and you and maybe a little something left over for me in my old age.

After a short pause and in a serious tone, George asked, Where did you get the money to buy all those diamonds?

I mostly bought them with the money I received from my father’s estate, he never believed in keeping money in the bank either. I bought a lot of them from Jack Brooke at his jewelry store in the past, when he didn’t recognize me. I had a sweet deal going. I would buy them in the past, when I was traveling back to find parts for some of the town merchants’ old equipment that had quit working. Then I would sell them back to Jack, in the future, after I crossed the bridge into the present or just saved them for a rainy day. Things were working real well until Jack retired and hired this Mr. Davies to manage his jewelry store. Mr. Davies had bought a few diamonds from me, but I panicked when I learned Jack was in the hospital. I was worried he might die, so I tried to sell all the diamonds I had left, all at the same time. That’s when Mr. Davies called the authorities.

Grandpa, this is so out of character for you. Not the wanting to financially help Dad or me or even yourself, just the buying diamonds and personally taking advantage of the bridge into the past that you had discovered.

George, you’re failing to see the big picture here. Everything I did, and you did, was to help someone in trouble either in the past or present. We both tried our very best not to inadvertently change the future unless that was our exact intention.

Well, when you explain it that way, it makes a little more sense. George paused for a moment, then asked, "Now what