Oct. 14, 1890, Denison Texas
Phineas lay back in the bed in the small hotel room, picturing tiny Dwight David Eisenhower. The baby had no idea how much trouble he'd been to bring into the world. And he thought of Mabel and Alec and the children they would have.
He found sleeping difficult but finally dropped off.
He recognized the dream when it started and knew he should force himself awake. But it was so nice to see her again, and he was so tired.
Dec. 29, 1640 Bristol, England
"More wassailing in just two eves, husband," said the pretty woman, girl really, by the fire. "But we'll have to wait a bit longer for our Twelfth Night gift"
She stood, patting her rounded form and smiling.
"A fine son will be worth the wait," the very young man looked up with his pale blue eyes, which were shining.
"It might be a lass, you know, Phin," she said laughing.
"If it were, she would doubtless be the fairest in England, Mary" he said. "But it's a lad."
She laughed again and returned to the meal. There was meat tonight, as it was still Christmastide. Phineas worked repairing a handle for a plow. Winter work was tedious, but it had to be done.
Mary made a strange noise and Phineas looked up from the work. She was standing, looking frightened, and Phineas saw the blood on the floor rushes.
"Mary," he moved toward her.
"Phineas, get your mother and the midwife," she said, clutching her abdomen. "I can get to the bed, but the babe. Please hurry."
He ran from the house, returning as quickly as he could with the two women. He heard screaming from the bedroom and ran toward the door. His mother held him back.
" 'Tis women's work, Phineas Bogg. We'll see to her and the babe."
She looked at his stricken face. "If you want to help, fetch water and heat it."
He realized that although he was an 18-year-old awaiting his own child, he'd been given a meaningless task to keep him from underfoot. But he was glad to have something to do.
When he returned with the water, he heard an agonized cry from the room. Mother's orders or no, he threw open the door and saw the midwife holding an impossibly small infant, who gave a weak cry.
There was blood everywhere, it seemed.
"Meggie, is there time for the priest?" he heard his mother say.
"No, Pru, I am sorry. Bring me the Holy Water from my kit," she said, wiping the child's tiny forehead.
"A name, Phineas, had you agreed on the name?" he heard his mother ask, but it sounded far away. He couldn't understand.
"Geoffrey then, Meg, for the lass's father," Prudence Bogg pronounced. "She would like that."
He heard the midwife mutter, "Geoffrey, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost" as she dropped water onto the baby's head.
She carried the infant to him. It fit in one of his large hands, and he stroked a cheek with the other. "He won't be to limbo, Phineas. It was in time, and without a priest available I have the authority. You will see him in Paradise with you come time," the old woman said.
He just stared at her wondering how that was possibly supposed to comfort him. By then, the infant had ceased in its struggle for breath. Phineas laid him down next to Mary and kissed them both. He looked at the room and saw no need to ask after how his wife had fared.
And suddenly, in the midst of the blood, he saw another child with dark curls and wide brown eyes.
Oct. 15, 1890
Bogg sat upright, kicking his legs straight out and knocking Jeffrey from the foot of the bed where he'd been sleeping.
"Ow, Bogg," the boy yelped, sitting up groggily and rubbing his elbow.
Bogg spoke so quietly, Jeff could hardly hear him, "I'm sorry, kid. Bad dream."
"Must have been some dream," Jeff said. "I'm lucky you didn't kick me into the next room."
He moved toward the man, and as he approached, Bogg grabbed him tightly in his arms. The man was shaking.
"Bogg, I was kidding. I'm fine. I only fell like 3 feet. We've had worse landings."
"Yeah, I know," Bogg replied, but he didn't let go of the boy.
"Bogg, are you OK?" Jeff asked. "Can I do anything?"
"Just stay here for a few minutes, please," Bogg said. "I'll be OK."
Bogg lay back in the bed, and Jeff returned the embrace. The man's breathing was shallow, and he was soaked with sweat. But Jeff understood about nightmares, so he just lay there quietly, offering what comfort he could.
Bogg thought back. He had joined a crew the very day of the funeral and never returned to Bristol. And from his days as a pirate to his days as a Voyager, he had been very careful. No real relationships or commitments, no one who could tear his heart out from his very core. Until now.
