Detour to Otherwhen ©
by K Pelle
Prologue
Although it isn't important, my name is Sam Williams and I'm really not a very good writer, so I hope you bear with me while I compose something in the way of a prologue to a friend's journal. I'm having difficulty writing this, because I'm not even certain what tense I should be using while writing about Joe. You see, although I believe him to be deceased, I don't have any physical proof of his death. However, since he hasn't been seen or heard from in more than seven years, he has been declared legally dead, so I suppose I should use the past tense to describe my friend.
As I mentioned previously, I'm not a writer, instead I'm an administrative assistant in the Physics Department at one of the country's well known universities, but this isn't my story. Instead this is the prologue for a journal written by Joe McIntyre, who worked for the same university and who humoured me by calling me his boss. However I think that's enough about me, and this should be about my friend, Joe McIntyre.
Joe was an astonishing man in many ways. He was an excellent machinist, a wonderful foreman, an astonishing linguist, and perhaps one of the most generous men I've ever met. The one major fault which he had was his temper, but to my knowledge he was never destructive when he was angry. Instead he would control his anger and turn it into the energy needed to perform some constructive task or other, usually a job which was extremely physical in nature. But then, he had the physique and perspicacity to accomplish almost anything he wished to do. Joe was well over six feet tall and built like a modern Adonis, but at the same time he was intelligent, strikingly handsome and very gentle. Yet, he was quiet and extremely shy around women, except for once, and I happened to be a witness to that rare occurrence. I recall the incident clearly, but then that day had been memorable for other reasons as well.
Joe and I had just lived through a day from hell. A damn fool professor had screwed up the drawings he'd provide to the machine shop, then had tried to make several last minute changes, which had wasted hours and hours of Joe's time. Then to top it off, the idiot insulted Joe and called him derogatory names in front of witnesses. I'm not sure how the fool felt it was germane to the situation, but the sanctimonious ass called Joe a 'stupid half-breed, who only had a job because of the University's equal opportunity hiring policy.' I can positively say that was as far from the truth as possible - Joe was an excellent machinist and was hired because of his outstanding merit, talent and ability. I know - I hired him, and could hardly believe he chose our small university instead of working for Boeing, Cal-Tech, NASA, or any of a few dozen other establishments of the same ilk.
Even after being insulted, Joe kept a lid on his temper though and only ordered the moron out of his shop, then called me, insisting that he would no longer deal directly with the imbecile. Instead Joe stated that any further work he had to do for that particular individual was to come through my office. As well as that, any plan the half-wit submitted to me was going to have to be redrawn and vetted by an engineer before Joe would even consider wasting his time by working on it. It was my job to pass on that news to 'Professor Dork.' In only a few minutes the man convinced me that he couldn't find his own butt -- not even if he used both hands and leased a bloodhound to assist in the search. After discussing the situation with the dimwit and then his ineffectual superior for several hours, I was almost as upset as Joe and felt I needed a drink, but decided Joe could use one as well. So after work, I invited Joe to join me at the faculty club to have a relaxing evening.
We ate an excellent meal at the club, then decided to shoot a game or two of eightball while sipping a libation or two. Joe had just made an excellent shot and was celebrating winning the first game when he accidentally backed into a very attractive woman and unfortunately spilled her drink. Since he was always a gentleman, he offered to buy her a replacement and the die was cast; Joe met Anna because of that minor incident and the two of them became instant buddies. Until that moment I hadn't believed in love at first sight, but if anything, Anna and Joe were made for each other. They were both tall, they were both good looking, they were about the same age, they had similar backgrounds, they had several mutual interests and they had complimentary personalities. Within moments I realized I was a nonessential third party and politely excused myself since I was no longer needed - and probably not wanted. Needless to say, the two of them became a couple in short order.
Anna was good for Joe, because she drew him out and broke through his shyness toward others, but in a way, I suppose, Anna might also be considered responsible for Joe's disappearance. You see she was an archeologist/anthropologist and she convinced Joe to use six weeks of his holidays to take part in a newly reopened archaeological dig in the Cypress Hills. Unfortunately there were complications which derailed the original offer, but in a display of pure ingenuity and stubborn resolve, Anna and Joe found an even more challenging alternative. Of course that meant a far greater involvement, but neither of them was dissuaded by a task which required effort, so they jumped at the chance to investigate a related area. Unfortunately, during that investigation Joe, Anna and two of Anna's female students simply disappeared - leaving absolutely no trace behind. It seemed as if they and all the equipment they had taken with them simply vanished from the face of the earth.
That disappearance became a thorn in my side since as well as his job in the machine shop, Joe owned a boarding house which was very popular with university students. When he'd left town, Joe had given me limited power of attorney to manage the boarding house, which meant my work load increased. Not only did I have to find a replacement for him at work, but I also had to care for his boarding house and because of our closeness, I was also drawn into the investigation of his disappearance. I'm afraid I was of little help to the various police officers who have tried to solve the mystery, but at least I did hear part of the inside story. However, on the negative side of the situation I found myself defending Joe and Anna's reputations as various malicious rumours surfaced about them. With the passing of time though, all I was left with was the mystery of how they and several others could have vanished completely.
It wasn't until several years later that I heard or saw anything more definitive and that new source of information came from an astonishing source, but that isn't my story, instead it's Joe's. Don't get me wrong, I never saw him again, but through his will I became the owner of a manuscript, allegedly written by Joe, which explains what happened - supposedly from his point of view. That manuscript has been called a hoax, a tall tale, a myth and a thousand other names, but personally I believe it to be a factual account of what happened to Joe and his companions. If anything I feel the tale presents a far greater mystery than the overnight disappearance of a small group of people, however I am not an expert on that subject so I'm incapable of investigating that enigma.
I can personally verify that everything mentioned in the story until May 16, 2003 happened exactly as it was written since Joe and I had a conversation late that afternoon. In addition to that I have spoken to several others who were involved with him up until the morning of June 2 of that year and those people are willing to swear that what he wrote until that date was also true. What happened after that date is something I do not know and cannot verify, I can only quote from Joe's manuscript and leave the onus of belief or disbelief in Joe's veracity up to you, the reader.
So with a minimum of editing and some minor notation by your's truly, what follows is Joe's story.