The Inheritance Paradox
Thirty-Two (Eugene’s Story)
“THERE’S MORE,” Eugene whispered as they passed through the rolling countryside of Ohio.
“Of course there is. Why should I expect it would be so simple?” Sarah laughed sadly.
“In my own era, I have fallen in love with a woman. She was the first one I was sent to rescue. We have not had any sexual relations as yet. I’ve asked her to marry me. When I return and have allowed myself to recover from the loss of you, I hope she will say yes.”
“She has not said yes already?”
“No.”
“How long has it been since you asked her?”
“Almost three months.”
“Eugene, is it normal for a woman to wait so long to answer a proposal in your era?” Sarah asked. “I didn’t even give you a chance to propose. I told you we would marry and you accepted. We’ve known each other less than two weeks!”
“When I met Lynn, I was living in my car. I had no home, no job, no money, and I was told I had just six weeks to live,” Eugene said.
“What is a ‘car’?”
Caught you on that one!
“A… uh… type of carriage that propels itself, without horses.”
“And you lived in such a thing? I would have moved in with you immediately!”
“Well, it sounds much more glamorous than it is. Actually, Detroit will become one of the centers of the automotive industry,” Eugene laughed. “But I devoted myself to caring for and protecting Lynn. I would do anything for her.”
“Such devotion seems to merit a quicker response!”
“She knows about my mission,” Eugene sighed. “I would not keep such a thing from a woman I love, any more than I will keep things from you.”
“Oh. I see. She feels you are already unfaithful to her.”
“Not exactly. She just feels that I need to put this delusion of time travel behind me before she commits.”
“Delusion?”
“What would you call it if your husband told you that every two weeks, he travels to a different century to impregnate a woman he has never met before and then returns the same night? She holds that it is a journey to a different dimension that I undertake while meditating—a past life regression. I doubt the reality of it myself. Are you real? Perhaps I am merely living out dark fantasies and have created my mission in order to prove to myself that I am doing something vital to the survival of humanity. If I discussed it with anyone but Lynn, I’m sure I would be committed to some kind of mental asylum. Perhaps the bit of lead you extracted from my leg will be enough to prove it, but it is not the first souvenir of my adventures I have collected.”
“I assure you, Eugene, I am very real and I intend to prove it beyond the shadow of a doubt when we are safely ensconced in our hotel room.”
Of course, they did not arrive in Detroit until the next day. Still, it was much faster than they could have walked. They found a comfortable hotel with dinner and breakfast included, not far from the train station. They put their suitcase and the rifle in their room when they arrived but quickly retreated from it so they would not appear too eager to get to bed. They held hands and walked aimlessly about the city. They paid five cents each to ride the horse-drawn streetcar back to the train station.
Eventually, they had their dinner and ran out of excuses to delay any further. They went to their room and stared at the bed—larger than most beds Eugene had encountered in his travels. It looked quite luxurious.
Sarah proceeded to show Eugene how enthusiastic she was about their marriage. She became even more enthused when Eugene shared some of the liberated sexual techniques of the twentieth century. Eugene was determined to show her exactly how much he appreciated her companionship.
They rose to go to breakfast in the morning, exclaiming once again over the indoor plumbing and facilities. Then they hurried back to their room and resumed their ardent activities.
“Plant your genetic material in me again, husband! I will not leave this hotel until I am filled with your child!” she exclaimed as they rutted together.
It took three days before they were both nearly satisfied. Surely, something must have been planted by then, though they vowed to continue seeding the soil at every opportunity.
Tearing themselves away from their room to explore the streets of Detroit was a pleasant diversion between episodes. It was the first time Eugene had traveled to a place in Michigan that he had some familiarity with. However, he found the streets as strange as if he had been on a different continent. Detroit had been a significant stop—usually a final stop—on the underground railroad and had a large free black population. This created tensions between recent white immigrants and the black community. The immigrants felt the war was meant to free the southern blacks and didn’t see why they should be expected to participate.
There had been a riot in the spring, mostly between blacks and whites. As a result, two significant institutions were established. The First Michigan Colored Regiment was formed, and some 1,400 black soldiers were deployed in the war. And the first Detroit city police force was created—mostly of whites. Eugene and Sarah were warned away from some areas of the city. Sarah noted there was a new military hospital in the city and thought she might apply for work there.
“Well, we should consider where we will live and how we will survive,” Eugene said as they walked near the river. “You may consider me wealthy, but we cannot survive for long on what is in my pocketbook.”
“I want to take you home,” Sarah said.
“Home?”
“I know you lied about being from Flint,” she said. “At least you aren’t from there in this day and age. You have no family you can inherit from or take me to meet. I, on the other hand, do have family and they live just fifty miles or so west of this city. We should go there so I can show them I am respectably married and ready to take my place in the family. My father and brothers were not happy when I left home to attach myself to the regiment as a nurse. They were certain I would be merely a camp follower, if you know what I mean.”
How many of your lovers have taken you home to meet mummy?
“So, you want to show them you have a temporary husband instead?” Eugene asked.
“Oh, Eugene. You may only be with me for a while, but you will forever be my husband.”
At the end of their short honeymoon, Eugene and Sarah packed their bag and boarded a train headed for Ann Arbor. The university had begun accepting women as students, but there was no housing for women, so most commuted from Detroit or found boarding houses in Ann Arbor.
When they arrived at the university station, Eugene hired a carriage to take them to Sarah’s family home. Sarah did not bother to knock at the door but walked into the house calling out.
“Mother! Mother, your daughter has come home!”
A woman emerged from the kitchen and when she saw Sarah, she rushed to embrace her daughter.
“Sarah! You’re alive. You made it home from that horrid war!”
“Yes, mother. And this is my husband, Eugene Holbrook. Eugene, my mother, Elaine Gilland.”
“Married! Could you not at least have warned us? Posted a letter? Anything?” Mrs. Gilland said.
Well, someone is surprised. I doubt you’ll surprise Wells—or Lynn for that matter.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Eugene said.
“It has been an arduous journey from the South, Mother. We’ve been married only four—no five—days. Do I have a room in my parents’ house? It will take us a few weeks to find our own home and settle ourselves,” Sarah said.
“A room? Always, my darling child. You plan to settle here in Ann Arbor?”
“If possible. Eugene is a man of letters and will look for work at the university,” Sarah said. Eugene followed along as Elaine led them to Sarah’s bedroom.
That will be a cozy little love nest.
“I’ll find another bed,” Elaine said. “I’m sure Mrs. Crawford said she was stumbling over an extra bed now that her children have gone. For now, Eugene can sleep in Horace’s room. He’s still off with the Michigan 88th. What unit did you serve with, Eugene?”
“Uh… I was simply a temporary replacement who went where I was needed until they decided I was too old. When I was wounded, I ended up in Sarah’s care,” Eugene said.
“I see! I knew you were a soldier by that rifle you have wrapped so carefully in your blanket. There are occasional noises in the street here, but I assure you this is a safe area. You will not need to defend us,” Elaine said.
Remarkably astute about the problems of PTSD.
“Thank you,” Eugene said.
“Now, come to the kitchen and I’ll fix you a bite to eat. How far have you come today?”
“Only from Detroit today, Mother. How are Father and Jonathon?”
“Busy. Your father steadfastly refused to let Jonathon leave, though he might still be drafted. They are working on a new house near the university. Your father’s crew has been busy with building houses for returning soldiers with a pension. I know he’ll want to get you started.”
They continued to talk over a bowl of soup with fresh bread.
Finn and Jonathon arrived and were surprised to find Sarah with a new husband. Jonathon treated Eugene with suspicion and Finn questioned him as if being interviewed for a bank job. Ultimately, Eugene seemed to pass the examinations and the family relaxed.
“And your papers?” the university provost asked when Eugene went in for an interview.
“Sadly, I moved from the South when the war encroached, and the rebels burned my family’s home. I was unable to rescue my papers and fled immediately into Ohio. My theology degree is from Grace Seminary in Frankfort,” Eugene lied easily.
“And what do you propose to teach at an agricultural college?”
“With the advancement of new industrial innovations making its mark on even farm life, I have seen that common people who at one time could scarcely be called upon to pray in church, have needed the ability to speak clearly in all manner of company. Even an agricultural man might need to plead his case in a bank or, God forbid, in a court of law. Public speaking, as you might expect, is an area that has long been the province of the clergy. While your students would not need that level of expertise, surely having a grounding in elocution would be helpful,” Eugene said.
“Certainly, you have an ability with words. Some of our professors could do with such a course,” the provost said. “Very well, I will place your proposal before the trustees and I’m confident there will be a course for you to teach this fall.”
While Eugene had time before the school term started to help Finn on his construction crew, it was mostly devoted to building a home for him and Sarah. Finn had been impressed that Eugene was able to purchase a lot and the materials for the house with greenbacks. It was built almost entirely by Eugene, Finn, and Jonathon. Eugene felt that at least he would be able to leave his wife with a home and some security. Finn was quick to take to the idea of building a house ‘fit for a young family.’
By the time they were in their new home, Sarah was proudly showing her rounded stomach.
In the spring, Sarah gave birth to Celestine Holbrook. It was a name Eugene had drawn from his many travels but could not remember who it belonged to.
“How long, husband?” Sarah asked as they sat with their daughter nursing in front of the fire.
“I don’t know. I’ve not been nagged lately about hurrying to leave.”
I don’t nag! Besides, this is an optimum location. You should have more children.
“More children?” Eugene asked.
“Yes! It is 1864. You’ve told me you can’t stay past 1871 because you are in Chicago then. But if you stay six more years, you will truly be old when you return,” Sarah said.
Eugene looked at his watch.
Plus ten and a half years. Instead of thirty, you are forty-one. That’s not old for your time, but it might seem old to Lynn.
“Not more than another year,” Eugene said.
“We should begin our next child at once,” Sarah said. “We mustn’t waste time spreading your magic juice. I will encourage our children to marry young and have many children.”
“Sarah, I don’t want to return at all. I want to live a natural life with you. I’m afraid even that would not give us more than the six years.”
“Come, husband. Celestine is asleep. Make me a mother again.”
Each time they had intercourse, they grew closer to each other. Eugene knew it would be harder than ever on him when he left.
I think that’s the punishment part of your mission that you claim—not being with a woman, but leaving her.
With Eugene’s modest income from the university and the remaining greenbacks he kept hidden away, they were able to expand their family in other ways. They took in a young woman and paid her a small amount in addition to room and board to help with the house and children. Sarah suggested to Eugene that he might seduce her and plant more seeds, but Eugene simply could not bring himself to cheat on his wife, even with her encouragement.
By the end of the war, there were many orphans in the country. Over 600,000 Union and Confederate soldiers lost their lives in the four-year conflict—the bloodiest in American history. Nearly another million were injured or wounded, half of whom were disabled. As a result, waifs like the girl Eugene and Sarah took in were common. That sparked the development of orphanages to care for the children of wounded and killed soldiers. One was not far from the university where Eugene lectured. When it opened, Sarah was one of the first to volunteer her services there.
Eugene often came by the orphanage after he finished his lectures and classes at the university so the two could walk home together.
Miracle Holbrook was born in February and Eugene and Sarah started immediately on another child.
“I’m afraid it won’t be long now, my love. I am beginning to feel the pressure to return to my own time. I am aging rapidly here,” he said as they lay together one night in April. It was 1866 and Eugene had been in this timeline three years.
“I will grieve, Eugene. But you must know I am not a dream. I will find a way to leave you something to discover in your time that will convince you that I and your children are real. We will love you always,” Sarah said.
It was an outpouring of their hearts to each other and Eugene knew the time was short. He continually fought Galahad’s insistence that it was time.
The snow was gone and flowers were blooming in May when Sarah told him she was sure she was pregnant again. On his way to meet Sarah, Eugene stopped by a vendor to buy flowers for her in celebration.
As he approached the orphanage where he usually met her, though, he heard alarms and saw smoke ahead. He rushed toward the school and saw flames through open windows.
“Sarah!” he shouted. His pregnant wife was in the building. Eugene knew exactly where she was.
You can’t do anything!
“I’m on my way!” Eugene screamed and as the first of the fire pump trucks arrived, he rushed into the burning building.
He did not consider himself brave. He was desperate. He could not let anything happen to Sarah. Smoke filled the halls and he struggled to the dormitory room where his wife treated minor injuries the children incurred. He broke the door open with a solid kick and found his wife, with a child in her arms, unconscious on the floor.
Eugene scooped Sarah and the little girl up in his arms together and rushed back toward the door. The two were coughing and tears ran from their eyes.
“Eugene! The children. There are children in the room next to mine!” Sarah cried out.
You might as well.
He straightened and looked back into the burning building. Firemen were directing hoses at various windows, but no one was attempting a rescue.
“Remember, I love you with all my heart,” Eugene said.
“As I love you!”
He turned from where he left her and rushed back into the building.
The smoke was dense, but Eugene managed his way to the room next to Sarah’s little nursing station. Children ranging from about five to ten were huddled in fear against the far wall as they saw flames burst through the ceiling above them. Eugene rushed to them and grabbed a blanket from one of the beds. He tossed this over the children and then herded them out with the blanket blocking their view.
“Go! Go straight ahead. You’re almost there!” Eugene shouted at the children.
They stumbled forward and Sarah rushed to get them away from the fire that was rapidly consuming the entire building. She looked up to find her husband, but he was still inside the building where a portion of the ceiling had collapsed between him and the door. She watched in horror as flames leapt up and Eugene suddenly disappeared.
“Jesus Christ! You’re on fire!” Wells screamed when Eugene landed in the chair at the LBT.
“Help!” he cried.
Wells sprayed a fire retardant all over Eugene, dousing the flames that had caught in Eugene’s hair as well as his clothes. Eugene sputtered, and the straps and head clamp descended on him. He could feel the pain begin to vanish and passed out.
Sleep!
When he awoke, he was still in the chair, but the straps had been released.
“You’re back. Good. I’ve downloaded Galahad’s report while you were healing. I don’t think you’ll have any scarring, but there is nothing I can do about your burned hair.”
“I’m old and gray. If my hair was there, it would still be obvious that I’ve aged.”
I can trigger some restoration of your appearance. You’ll still be bald, though.
“You did well. Three children who will bear your last name. And then you ran into a burning building to rescue another ten—four of whom the record shows bear the same recessive gene you do. This could be the biggest alteration in the probabilities that we’ve seen so far!”
“It’s changed things in my timeline?” Eugene asked.
“Undoubtedly, but it is unlikely you will notice it. The changes are in cell structure, not in history. But seven children in such a concentrated area will make the discovery likely earlier. Well-done.”
Eugene flexed his fingers and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out the lead ball he’d carried with him ever since he’d been shot.
“And this is supposed to serve as proof that it was all real?” he asked.
“That’s pretty good evidence, isn’t it? It matches the scar on your thigh.”
“Could have come from anything.”
“Where were you, Eugene?” Wells demanded.
“When I was recalled? In a burning building.”
“When you bred your wife, lectured your students, and rescued the children.”
“In Michigan, I suppose. Ann Arbor.”
“Hmm. Holbrooks in Ann Arbor in 1866. If only you had the internet.”
“What’s that?”
“A kind of library where you could search records. You could see if you existed.”
“I never wanted any of this,” Eugene said.
Except you did, didn’t you?
“Did it even work?”
“It’s difficult to tell. It’s in your future. Will the discovery of the gene be easier? Earlier? Have we saved humanity? I don’t know,” Wells said.
You’ve done well. He’ll never get around to saying that.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
