Chapter 7 – Acceleration

Chapter 7 is in progress. I know there’s been a pretty long gap in posting. Life is so busy these days, and I can feel that something is very, very close to happening. I leave the house every day, knowing there’s a really good chance I’ll end my day in 1933.

I’m getting lots of emails from readers asking if I’ve jumped to my Grandfather’s time. Well, not yet, but I’ve left instructions about what to do with this site in the event I don’t make it back. Whether she will want to if that happens, I don’t know.

Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 7 – Acceleration. The in-progress chapter is here.

Sadly, I wasn’t able to do anything to change Coach MacLaren’s life, or more accurately, his death. I had a number of talks with him during my senior year, and in the three years that followed, but since Coach had never had a single symptom or sign that anything was wrong with his heart, he shrugged off my nagging. We had a lot to learn about nutrition in the 70s, about cholesterol, fat, smoking and everything else. I even got excused from practice to be at the game the night I knew Coach MacLaren was going to have his massive heart attack in the locker room. There was usually an ambulance and EMT stationed at most games, but to be sure, I had ordered up and paid for a private ambulance service to be there as well, parked right outside the doors by the home locker room.

It didn’t matter, though. It was Coach’s time. The heart attack was massive, and right on schedule. I was with him after he sent the team out on the court to warm up. I’d come to watch the guys play, I had told him, and would love to show my support in the locker room before the game. He bought it, and never asked why I wasn’t at school at practice. Coach MacLaren had asked me to go to his office to get him another play-plan clipboard, and must have collapsed right after I left the room. I picked up the board off his desk, and glancing through the window that looked into the locker room, saw him lying on his side on the floor. I didn’t even bother going to him, but instead, flew out the door to the outside and shouted for the paramedics in the amblance I’d hired. By the time they got to him though, barely a minute after I saw him on the floor, he was gone. They later told me that he was probably dead when he hit the floor.

I’ll have this chapter finished in the next week, I think. Unless, of course…