Jasper's POV:

Once again Kair and Kare left and I was alone with my human family. I spent my nights out in the wilderness, gorging on whatever wildlife I could find and making up for all of that lost time being trapped inside that wormhole. During the day the animals would be let out to roam the pasture and I would take over the barn, for Mariam and Mariel's sakes, because they felt better if there was a roof over my head. They were not aware of my night time activities and were under the impression that I slept in the barn with the animals at night.

I had been allowed inside the house and even met my great grandmother, Ma Jackson, along with Monroe's wife Bethany and their son Monty. But Monroe was uncomfortable with me being so close to his family, so I kept my distance and tried to stay out of the house. Monroe was a bit odd, because he liked me and had no problems asking me to come along and help him with his chores, but he did not trust me around his wife and kid. I was the last person to blame him, because I would not trust me around my own wife and kid if they were human, so I did not begrudge him his one request. Therefore I avoided Bethany and Monty like the plague.

Ma Jackson spent most of her time helping her daughter-in-law out with the new baby, but we did have the occasional chat. She would come out to milk the cows every morning and we would talk. Well cow really, because they only had one cow at the moment with milk, although they did have a second one with calf. And since she thought I was living in the barn, I would invariably make an appearance. Animals hate my kind, but they love me, and the two opposing forces combined to produce unusually calm and sleepy cows, horses, sheep, and chickens.

All in all I would say I got along well so close to all of those animals. Except their roster, George, did not like me and he would crow his little head off every morning when I would slip into the barn to await Ma Jackson's visit. But then rosters screeching cock-a-doodle-doo in the morning was not exactly out of the ordinary for these parts, so the humans did not notice. I would not have noticed if I had not been able to feel the malice the bird directed at me whenever he looked at me; it was as if he saw me as a rival male, but instead of trying to fight me, he was content to crow his little lungs out in complaint.

And so surrounded by the sounds of cow milking and a belligerent roster, Ma Jackson and I would talk. She was a sweat old lady and nothing like the old racist wind-bag of a great grandmother that I had known in my human life. Ma Jackson died of old age long before I was born, so it was Nana Whitlock that I had grown up knowing. If I had known that all old people were not as awful as Nana Whitlock I might have spent more time getting to know one before.

I did not remember Nana Whitlock or my grandmother, Grandma Whitlock, on my own and neither of them had been alive in Jeremiah's time, but Jackson had told me about them. He used to draw me sketches of my childhood and tell me stories about my family members, like that Nana Whitlock always called me Billy or Billy-Bob, and not just because she could not be bothered to learn my name. Her daughter-in-law, Grandma Whitlock, always called me Joe, because she was senile and thought all of her male grandsons were my older brother Joseph, but Nana Whitlock, her mother-in-law, was not senile and knew perfectly well who I was. She just did not like the name Jasper and thought my mother should have named me William instead, so she called me Billy.

Needless to say Nana Whitlock was as stubborn as a mule and as bad tempered as one too, but Ma Jackson was her polar opposite. Ma Jackson was kind and motherly and always asked me if I was well fed, and not because she was worried about her safety, but because she was genuinely concerned about me. She did not know about my special diet or that I was in para with the twins; she just liked to feed everyone and I never showed up at the table like the rest of her family. And to her, I was family even though she did not know that she was my great grandmother and thought that I was just a boarder that Monroe had picked up.

Ma Jackson and the rest of the townsfolk were told that I was from Galveston and had lost my horse out in the woods near their homestead. Monroe had supposedly found me and offered that I could stay in the barn, in exchange for helping out around the place, until I got back on my feet. Getting back on my feet would mean earning enough money to buy another horse to ride back to Galveston, which I had no plans on doing, so eventually people will begin to wonder why I am still here. But I will cross that road when I get to it and for now it is sufficient to pretend.

"I'm makin' a nice pot roast t'night with carrots and taters and all of the fixin's; ya should stop in," Ma Jackson told me while she milked the cow.

"That's real nice of ya and I greatly appreciate the offer Ma'am, but I couldn't impose like that," I said, running out of excuses as to why I would not eat this old lady's cooking.

"Nonesense! You're one of the fam'ly now!" she insisted.

"Again, that really warms my heart that you'd think so, but I'm fine out here, honest. I've got this wonderful hay bed and everything else I could need."

"'Cept a warm meal."

"I've been living out in the wilderness a long time now, I'm not used to all these amenities. I was on my way back home to Galveston, but I left home years ago when I was just sixteen. I've been out on the trail hunting all of these years and while I did have a little cabin with the wife and youngin's, it was not nearly as civilized as this. I'm used to livin' off the land and going out hunting for my dinner every evening," I lied.

"Surely that wife of yours cooked that game for ya," she countered.

"She did, but so do I. I make a nice little fire out in the woods and roast me up fish or wild fowl or gator, but I'm not used to eatin' at a table and I'm 'fraid to admit it, but I plumb forgot all my table manners."

"Well ya best relearn 'em quick if you're headed to see your ma. And there ain't no better time than tonight with my roast," she said, finishing with the cow.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful those brown eyes of yours are?" I asked, trying to distract her with flattery. Ma Jackson, unlike the rest of the Jackson bunch, had light brown hair with more grey in it than brown and medium brown eyes. Mariel and Mariam had the same brown eyes, but not the brown hair. And Monroe was fairer, with honey hair, but hazel eyes. Ma Jackson told me once that Monroe was the spitting image of his father.

"Why yes, my late husband used to tell me that all the time."

"Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" I asked, sharing my false enthusiasm. I was not really in the mood to dance, but I thought that a dance would clear her mind and get me out of eating human food. I could eat it, but then it would have to come back up, and that was the last thing I felt like doing right now, not to mention that I was worried it would be dangerous for the eggs I was carrying. My eggs would be fine as long as they did not come back up with the food, but I did not want to risk it and be forced to re-swallow them.

Ma Jackson ducked her head shyly, so I took her hand and lead her for a slow waltz around the barn, before sending her back inside with her milk. I let all of the animals out and found Mariam and Mariel on the porch, mending clothes, while Monroe was off to the side of the house chopping wood. I went to join my grandmother and her sister and picked up a needle, thread, and a torn sock.

I had spent all of thirty seconds mending and had finished only two socks when Monroe looked up from his wood cutting and asked, "Hey Jasper, why don't'cha come over here and help me with all this wood?"

I did not particularly want to cut wood, especially because it might disturb the humans when they realize how much faster and easier the task was for me, but I agreed. I set down the mending and took up the ax, and three minutes later I had split all of the blocks into manageable logs.

"Wow! I ain't never seen no one chop wood that quick!" Monroe exclaimed. "There goes my plans for the day. The only thing I've got left to do is go into town. Would'ja like to go with me?"

"No, I'd rather stay here," I said, dreading contact with additional humans. I was getting used to the smell of the Jackson family, but I was not in the mood to challenge myself with strangers. Plus the sun was out, as always, and although the Jacksons seemed used to sparkly people, I doubted the townsfolk would be. "But there is something I'd greatly appreciate if you'd pick up for me."

"What's that?"

"I'd like a new pocket watch. Mine hasn't worked since I fell into that wormhole. I don't have any money, but I did catch a gator last night. I was hoping you might be able to trade the skin and meat for a watch," I answered.

"Lead the way."

I lead Monroe around back to where I had left the remains of the alligator I had drunk last night. Alligator was almost as disgusting as bird, but they were the largest and easiest prey in the area and their leather hides could fetch a fair price, because alligator skin cowboy boots were highly prized. Not many people would eat alligator meat around here, but it was still used to feed slaves and as fishing bait. So the meat would not sell for much, but it would sell.

"Wow! When did'ja do all this?" he asked, stepping up to the alligator skin and touching the scales.

"This morning before y'all woke up. If I load it into the wagon, do you think you could sell it?"

"I reckon I could."

"Do you reckon it'll be enough for a watch?"

"The meat won't be, but this skin is perfect. I reckon it alone'll get'cha the watch. What kind did'ja want?"

"I don't much care for how fancy it is, just as long as it's accurate."

"And you're sure you don't wanna come into town with me and pick it yourself?"

"No offense, but you humans smell awful strong. I'd rather not have to smell any more than necessary, if you know what I mean."

"We smell strong as in bad or as in tasty?" he asked with a spike of fear.

"Tasty," I answered and he gulped. "You don't have to be worried, because I'm a carnivore, not a cannibal. I haven't touched a human in the last thirteen hundred years. I'd just rather not be tempted."

"Right," he said with apprehension. "Well I'll hitch up the wagon and you load it."

I had the wagon loaded before he had the horse hitched, so I went back to helping Mariam and Mariel with the mending. Then I helped them prepare hot water for a bath, which was not as simple as turning on the tap. I brought the young ladies bucket after bucket of water and they boiled it in a large cauldron. The whole process took half the day and Monroe was back with my watch before all of the women-folk had bathed.

"Jasper, give me a hand with the supplies," Monroe said pulling the horse and wagon into the barn.

I helped him unload the wagon and when we were done, he handed me the watch and said, "That skin fetched a mighty fine price so I was able to get a gold watch for ya. Just what did'ja want one for anyways? You don't seem the type that'd need one."

"Well I can tell the time by the position of the sun in the sky, same as anyone, but I wanted to time my twins," I said, examining the watch. It was indeed quite fancy and on a long gold chain.

"Time them at what?"

"I want to know how long they stay with me during their visits. I know it's at least an hour and it can't be more than three hours, but I haven't been able to time them to the minutes yet."

"I have: those two stay two hours every time," Monroe replied, holding up his own beaten up brass pocket watch.

"Thanks!" I said, already trying to calculate in my head how long I had been gone if each visit was equivalent to two hours in the real world.

"Once I got down to the store and started askin' 'bout watches, John started askin' me 'bout why I didn't just bring in the old one so he could fix it up. He's mighty handy with 'em, so it'd be safe enough."

"I don't doubt his skill, but my watch if from the future. Our technology's different."

"Pocket watches ain't changed much."

"They will soon," I said pulling out my dead cell phone and showing him the tiny thin rectangular piece of clear plastic film that housed the nanocomputer, three-dimensional projector, speaker, microphone, Wi-Fi, video camera and everything else necessary to tell time in the thirty-fourth century.

The entire contraption was only a square centimeter in total area and stuck to the skin with its adhesive surface. The current fashion was to stick them to your right cheek and set them to flash tiny three-dimensional blue-tinted pictures of yourself onto your face with a slight glittery effect, but I was a fan of the old-fashioned application to the back on the hand, although Alice still liked to wear hers on her ear and flash three-dimensional earrings. Scryan liked to wear his on his forehead and have it flash images of Komodo Dragons, but that was nothing compared to what the boys in his junior high school class were doing. Call me old-fashioned, but I will never understand why it became socially acceptable to attach your phone to your crotch and project three dimensional images of your own genitalia, because it completely defeats the purpose of wearing clothes.

"Where're the gears and hands?"

"My point exactly: there are none."

"Then how's it work?"

"It's electronic, not mechanical. But Edison hasn't even invented electricity yet."

"Whose's Edison and what's electricity?"

"Edison is a famous human scientist who changes the world. Everything'll be more convenient with his electricity."

"How's it work?"

"Well there are some things you have to understand first, like that matter is made up of atoms, not the four elements of fire, water, air, and earth."

"What're atoms?"

"Particles of matter that are so small we can't see them. But everything is made up of them and they are in turn made up of smaller particles which are made up of smaller particles."

"And those are made up of particles that are smaller still?"

"No, two levels down from atoms is the absolute smallest unit of matter. But atoms are made out of three types of smaller particles. One type is neutral in charge and just adds weight, or mass. That one is mixed in with one that is almost identical, but has a positive charge, like magnets. And then very tiny almost massless particles with a negative charge whiz around this ball of positive and neutral. The negative particles can come loose and travel through metal and that creates electricity that drives all our modern inventions."

"Oh, then maybe John won't be able to fix it," Monroe concluded.

Author's Note: What would you do with a cellphone patch? Personally, I'm allergic to adhesive, so I'd be allergic and have to put it on my clothes…