Authors: William Goldman
Trude
moved close to the blind weeping eyes.
“
Who
’
s crying? Why?
”
“
MUHHH—
—MAMMEEE
CRIII-YUNNN
!!”
“
Why is she crying? Why won
’
t she stop?
”
“
DIIIIIIII.
DRAFFFFFF.
”
“
You
’
ll die because it
’
s so drafty? It
’
s that cold? She
’
s afraid you
’
ll die of the cold?
”
“
HUNNNNNNN!
”
“
You
’
ll die of hunger and cold. You
’
re that frail, she
…
”
Trude
’
s voice stopped then because an instant before the others he realized it. He turned to Kilgore and said,
“
He
’
s connected with another life, we
’
ve made a terrible mistake—I don
’
t know where he is or when or—
“
“
-—go on!
”
R.E.L. Beulah commanded suddenly.
“
Who are you, you
’
re not Theo.
”
“
BOOKER!
BOOKERRR
!”
“
Last name?
”
“
JUH—
JACKSON!
AN
’
—
AN
’
SHE WON
’
—
—WON
’
STOP—
CR1II-YUNNN!
”
“
Ask him how old he is,
”
Beulah commanded. Trude took a deep breath, complied.
“
TWENNY
”
“
Now ask him the year!
”
Beulah
’
s voice was louder. Trude just stood silently, because it didn
’
t matter, if it wasn
’
t 1876, nothing mattered to him.
“
Ask. Ask if this is 1917!
”
Beulah was relentless. Trude did as demanded.
“
YUH
YUH.
”
“
New York?
”
Beulah went on. He was all but shouting now.
“
New York?
”
Trude repeated.
“YUH.
”
Beulah approached the giant, who sat as before, the huge arms outstretched, the sightless eyes continuing to weep.
“
The answer to our prayers,
”
he said, and then he whirled on Trude and Kil-gore.
“
Don
’
t you see? He
’
s a twenty-year-old Negro. With a mammy. And he isn
’
t cold because of the draft, his mother
’
s afraid he will die when he
’
s
drqfted
—
and
not hunger-—it
’
s the
Hun
— the Germans—this was the first half of 1917, right before the war.
”
He stared at them both.
“
Don
’
t you
set yet?
”
No one seemed to.
“
Trotsky
was in New York the first half of 1917; Leon Trotsky lived
here
before he went back to home—4esus~once we get back to 1876 and nail Bell, we can go to 1917 and kill Trotsky—we can zap the Russian Revolution before it goes anywhere—we can win
it
all!
”
Then he pointed his pipe toward Billy Boy.
“
This man,
”
he said, and there was no mistaking the emotion in his old eyes;
“
this man, well, he
’
s a national treasure
…
”
By the time Trude reached his office half an hour later, the celebration was well under way. Beulah and Kilgore had gone straight there once the 1917 revelation had occurred, and Beulah had unpacked the pint of Chivas he felt helped his bones ward off the cold. He poured the liquid into coffee cups and the party had begun.
Trude had to bring Billy Boy slowly to the present and oversee the wheeling back to his plain room. He ordered the two nurses to lock the door behind him, told Apple and Berry to alert him if anything unusual happened. So when he reached his desk, he was already more than a drink behind.
“
Jes
’
in time to settle an argument,
”
Beulah said, his speech already the least bit slurred.
“
I say Stalin,
”
Kilgore cut in.
“
If you really wanted to cripple Russia once and forever,
”
Beulah went on.
“
When we get this control business honed down and all the bugs out of it, who would you kill? Mr. Kilgore and I are locked in this intellectual debate. He says Stalin, I say no, Lenin, he was the linchpin figure. Do I mean
‘
linchpin
’
? Anyway, if you could kill any Russian you wanted, and thereby destroy Russia forever as our enemy, who would you kill?
”
…
While this question hung in the air, in his hospital room now,
the National Treasure was pulling at his temples to stop the pounding and screaming wildly
…
“
I
’
ve done a great deal of thinking on just that particular problem,
”
Trude
answered, the first sips of Scotch warming him.
“
I
’
d greatly appreciate it if you would listen to my answer, because, you see, it
’
s very hard because, yoifsee, we didn
’
t travel.
”
“
Don
’
t see the connection,
”
Beulah put in at once.
“
Well, if you could control me today and you wanted me to eliminate, say, Mrs. Thatcher, nothing simpler. I
’
d hop a plane to London, wait outside Number 10, and when she appeared, simply blast away.
”
…
While Mrs. Thatcher was being disposed of Billy Boy managed to get to his feet He fell back immediately with dizziness, but not for long
. .
“
But in the old days,
”
Trude
went on happily,
“
travel was a huge problem. A hundred years ago, it could take weeks to make a trip like that. And whoever you were after might be gone. The point being, people came
to
America—we were the magnet. It would have been much easier for a Chinaman to do it, because there were Chinamen all over the world, and you might find one easily to do your wishes. Even many Russians were here during the Civil War. But very few Americans were overseas.
”
“
So?
”
Kilgore said.
“
Just that thus far, we
’
ve found that one controls one
’
s own kind. Americans remember Americans, etcetera. So it would be very hard to get to one of the Russians, but assuming I could, my answer would be neither Lenin nor Stalin, I would do my very best to deal with Karl Marx.
”
…
While Beulah and Kilgore considered that answer, Billy Boy
staggered to the door, pounded on the little glass window, screamed
he wanted the door unlocked. The nurse with the light brown hair
used the speaker outside to tell him that was quite impossible and
to get some rest immediately. Billy Boy picked up the chair and
smashed the glass window on the third swing. Then he started
working on the door
…
“
“
I can
’
t see Marx at all,
”
Beuiah said.
“
Big mistake.
”
“
Don
’
t think so,
”
Trude
said. He was proud of his reasoning. It had come to him over many nights.
“
You
’
d have tc^get Marx early is all. The late 1830s say.
Before—
and this is essential—
before
he wrote the
‘
Communist Manifesto.
’
You see, his writings didn
’
t just give a platform and foundation to the Russians, it
’
s done the same to every revolutionary group that
’
s come along since. If you destroy Stalin or Lenin, you certainly damage Russia mortally. But some other nation might have grabbed the banner. If you erase Marx, you erase minds, and those are what always cause the most trouble to a democracy.
”
…
while democracy was being saved, Billy Boy tried to shoulder the door but it was soon clear to him that it was of some sort of special construction. Outside, the nurses were nervous. Apple and Berry knew about the special construction and told the nurses to relax. This became increasingly hard to do as Billy Boy picked up the entire bureau and began to slam it against the door
…
Kilgore was exhausted and the second drink hit him hard.
“
Let
’
s destroy America,
”
he said,
“
who would you kill?
”
He couldn
’
t help laughing.
“
This is more fun than playing Space Invaders any day.
”
“
Washington, he was the father of us all,
”
Beuiah replied.
“
More Scotch?
”
…
while Trude and Kilgore said just a touch please, the specially constructed door showed the first sign of weakening
…
“
I think I
’
ve researched every country,
”
Trude said, happily;
“
I
’
ve got a good grasp on just who would be most advantageous for us to get. But there are wrinkles. Example: Bach died neglected and stayed that way for seventy-five years till Mendelssohn revived his reputation. Does that mean if we got to Mendelssohn, there would be no Bach interest? Hardly, because even though he was
neglected,
he was not
unknown—
Mozart and Beethoven both were aware of him, so we can assume someone would have rediscovered Johann Sebastian
’
In history, there are
manifest
forces— that
’
s what people see at the time—and
latent
forces—things
unseen by contemporaries, and …
”
…
and while Trude almost emptied the room with his boring chat on forces, Billy Boy continued exerting forces of his own against the offending door. And once she realized there was no question the door would lose, the second nurse began to scream
…
“
Washington was certainly a great man
,”
Trude expounded, smiling into his coffee cup.
“
But he was also surrounded by others of greatness. Never such talent in America as then. No, I think the man to obliterate is the most hated man in our country
’
s history, Mr. Lincoln of Illinois.
”
…
while Kilgore said he hadn
’
t realized Lincoln was a despised figure, the nurse with the light brown hair began to run
…
“
During the war, loathed,
”
Trude said.
“
Like no one before or since. But he died, you see, in the arms of victory, and the Lincoln myth—he died so our country might survive, might become one again—without that, we would still be fighting the Civil War. Except again, like Marx, you
’
d have to get to Lincoln early, back in Springfield would be an excellent time, he would have been ripe for the plucking back then.
”