The Curse of Dr. Zola

Chapter 14

63 years later…

Black became dark gray, then light gray, then blue, then pinkish peachy white…..

His eyes opened slowly, his brain still unable to comprehend the images fuzzily dancing before him. He heard a sound….a voice….but it was muffled, like he was underwater…..but he wasn't. Then he felt the cold, and he shivered. His jaw worked, but no sound came out. He tried turning his head, but he felt stiffness in his neck.

The shivering continued. A blanket, warm and soft, was draped over him, and warmth slowly creeped back into his body. He felt tired and James Barnes closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

His lungs drew in air desperately, hungrily, and his chest heaved with the effort. He woke as if from a nightmare. As his eyes opened once again, he heard the faint sounds of Glenn Miller playing. He recognized the tune. "The American Patrol" was a favorite on the dance floor.

He turned his head and looked around the room. He didn't recognize it. He sat up, still feeling somewhat groggy. The room was plain and in muted colors; the bedding simple and also matching colors. He swung his legs over to the edge of the bed, tested his legs, and stood up, pushing off the blanket. Where the hell am I?

He looked down and saw that he was completely naked. When he was certain that his legs would hold him up; he ventured out and across the hall to the bathroom. He peed into the toilet, holding himself steady with one hand on the wall, and then plopped down to finish his business. He moaned softly as his body tried to expel 60 plus years of what he had held inside him.

He finished up, feeling like he just left his bowels in the toilet. He got up and walked back across the hall to the bedroom. Where are my clothes?

He looked around at first, his brain and eyesight still unreliable. Then he noticed the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, so he put it on and tied the belt. Then he wandered out down the hall.

It was there that Bucky first got his first inkling that something wasn't right. The furniture seemed … wrong, and the source of the music, well, it was nothing like he'd ever seen, except maybe…Suddenly his eyes went wide! Is that a television? He rubbed his eyes with both hands. He and Steve had gone to the World's Fair in New York back in 1939 and saw some, but, but ….. THIS! It was HUGE! Where is the console? He studied it for a few seconds and then stepped back to look at it. Surely, Howard Stark had something to do with this. He was ALWAYS trying to outdo everyone. He and Steve had even seen Starks' attempt at a flying car at the science fair on his last night before reporting for duty….

He stood up straight. The Army! The war! It all started coming back to him… Germany, the factory….trying to escape. He also sensed something else; like that feeling you get when you're not alone. He turned to hear sounds in the kitchen…..and the smell of bacon, and COFFEE! What the hell is going on?

Cautiously, he made his way over and peeked around the corner.

"Hello James. I'm glad to see you're awake."

His lungs inhaled a deep breath, and he froze in his tracks. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"My name is Mary, and you're in New York state."

"How did I get here?" He moved closer to check for weapons but saw none.

"That's a long story. I just got some water to a boil. Would you like some tea or coffee? I've got oatmeal too. Please, come have a seat, and I'll try to explain."

"That's the most ridiculous story I've ever heard! You couldn't come up with something better?"

"I didn't come up with this story. Look." She pushed a composition book towards him. "I'm afraid it gets worse. After I pushed the buttons, I saw this book lying there on the generator, so I picked it up and flipped thru it. Some of it was in my mother's hand-writing, but the first part was in hand-writing I didn't recognize. I think the woman who had you was my grandmother."

Bucky went white as a ghost.

She got up from her chair, and took his hand. "I've got to show you something."

She led him to her computer and booted it up. He looked at the unfamiliar equipment uneasily.

At first he was skeptical, but he watched as she brought up images from the 1940's, his mind scarcely believing what he was seeing. "This…..this is all fake. You made it all up."

"No. I didn't. Have you ever seen a computer before?"

He shook his head. "It can't be real, it can't."

"Look, I can't possibly know the reason why the things that happened to you happened. I never really knew my grandmother. It's killing me that she was over there, and that she did terrible things. I'm not my grandmother. I'm finding out about all of this the same time that you are. My mother NEVER told me about you, or any of this."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, James. I'd like to take you to a doctor and get you checked out, but I'm afraid for you."

"Why?"

"Everything is on computers these days. The doctor will need your personal information, like your social security number, date of birth. How can we tell him you were born in 1917? You can't use your social security number, because it's on file from 1930-something. They jail people now who steal other people's numbers. And it's not like we can tell them the truth about you."

Bucky sat down on the sofa, trying to comprehend all of this. He ran his hands thru his hair.

"If the government, or any government, finds out about you, about how you survived since WWII, they will come for you and turn you into some sort of lab rat. They will make you disappear forever and you'll be trapped in some place that has no name because it won't exist outside of those walls. You'll be a prisoner forever."

"That…that can't be. How could they do such a thing?"

"There's more."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No." She brought up the story of Captain America, and let Bucky sit at the computer.

"That's…Steve?…..but he was, I was told that he….I didn't believe her. How can this be?" Suddenly, his mind rejected it all, overwhelmed by too much information. "No. You're lying to me! You're lying, just like she did." He pushed her away.

"If you promise me you'll keep an open mind, I'll take you for a drive. You'll be able to see it, touch it, and find out for yourself."

Desperate for answers, he clenched his fists, but nodded.

"Let's go and see if we can find you some clothes."

She led the way back to his bedroom. She considered it his now, and opened the dresser drawers.

As she left the room, she closed the door to let him choose from the myriad of men's clothes that her mother had left for him.

After he got his clothes and shoes on, she led him outside to her pick-up truck, opened the passenger door and let him climb in. "You have to buckle up."

"What?"

She pulled down the seat belt, and awkwardly reached over his lap, and buckled him in with a blush on her face. She ran around and got in on the other side.

After she buckled in, she caught the amusement in his face. "What's so funny?"

"You drive a truck?"

"Why not?"

"Well, you're a girl."

"Oh dear. I forget that the 1940's were a time that men didn't think women were capable of anything except pushing out babies. Times have very much changed, and WWII had a lot to do with it. With the men overseas, a lot of women were at home working in factories building planes and all kinds of things for the war, but you'll see."

"I know women were building planes and ships; I was there."

At first, Bucky didn't see anything that mattered, but slowly as 'civilization' came into view; he noticed that things weren't normal. Cars drove by that he didn't recognize. The houses looked different. Soon, he began to realize that everything was different. Holy cow!

"How can this be?"

"I don't know all of what happened. I told you everything I know. I found that book with you, and it gave your name, and all the other information that I already told you. I have to stop at the market; do you want to come in with me?"

"Yes, I suppose I should."

She parked the truck and got out. Bucky was confused as to how to undo the strap that was holding him in the vehicle. He started to panic and gave her an accusatory glare. She opened his door, climbed up on the side step and leaned over his lap again to release the buckle, blushing furiously.

Once inside the market Bucky saw a newspaper display and picked up a paper. He read the date. He couldn't help himself; he had to read it. November 21st, 2007. His shoulders sagged. It's really real. I'm really here, and everyone I knew is probably dead. It's been… 63 years! He put the paper back in the stack, and followed her around the store, half-dazed, as thoughts swirled around in his head.

She picked up what she needed, and they waited in line to pay. His musings were momentarily disrupted as he watched her put a blue rectangular card into a machine of some kind. It buzzed and she pulled it out. The cashier handed her a receipt, which she crammed into her pocket and she handed Bucky two bags.

He stood there open-mouthed.

"Can you carry these?"

"Uh, yeah…" He came back to himself, and accepted the grocery sacks. He followed her out, but stopped her beyond the door. "What did you just do? What was that thing?"

"What thing?"

"You didn't give the cashier any cash to pay for the groceries."

"I used my debit card. I'll try to explain on the way back."