The classroom became a pandemonium of screaming, crying, and shocked questions. The teacher herself stood at the front, unsure of how to handle the situation. She could barely control her own confusion and sorrow, let alone the grief of her students. Although the assassination occurred in a country not their own, President Kennedy's loss was felt deeply by the students in that small rural school house. President Kennedy had been very popular in many parts of the world for his own powerful charismatic presence, as well as his efforts to improve the human condition through civil rights and the Peace Corps.
Violet put her head down on the wooden desk and wept. As her sobs slowed, her consciousness shuddered, as if some hidden eye in her mind had just blinked. She raised her head slightly, to survey her immediate surroundings. Everything around her became foggy except for a small round hole in the desk's top right hand corner. She stared it, unable to understand it's purpose in the worn surface. She concentrated for several minutes until her thinking became clear. The hole was an ink well, that was used to hold a bottle of ink for fountain pens, before ball point pens became readily available. She had seen pictures of antique desks with ink wells in her grade school history book.
The sudden thought caused another blink in her mind. The desk was an antique, and yet she was sitting at it, in a twelve year old body that was not her own. The year was apparently 1963, a time period fifty years in the past. Where was she, how did she get there? Where was her own body, her own time frame? She could feel panic take hold of her grasp on reality, as she blacked out and her head slumped back on the desk.
Her first lucid thought of awareness was the warmth. There had been a distinct chill from the draughty window beside her in the classroom. The difference in temperature must have acted as a trigger to signal the difference in her situation. She looked around, expecting to see the same scene that was there before she closed her eyes, but she was in for a big surprise! What she saw before her made her feel faint again.
She was no longer sitting at a desk in school. She was no longer inside a building at all. She was standing on a grassy knoll above a city plaza. There were thousands of people lining the street as a motorcade went by. An open convertible limousine moved slowly forward, as two people in the back seat waved to the crowds. Something about this scene rang a bell in her memory. No, make that a whole lot of bells. She had seen this scene before, in books. It was famous. She was in Dallas Texas, at Dealey Plaza. That was the presidential motorcade going by, and President Kennedy was still alive, so it must be just moments before his assassination!
This realization shocked Violet to her core. The first thing she needed to do was find out who she was, or at least whose eyes she was looking through. Perhaps that person had seen or heard something that could clear up all the mystery surrounding the number of shots fired, or if there were more than one shooter.
She became aware of holding something heavy, so she looked down at her host person's hands, which appeared to belong to a man. They grasped an 8 mm movie camera. The sights and sounds around her slowly entered her mind as she tried to process that information. She was in a position to find out exactly what happened that dreadful day in history! She put the camera to her right eye and focused it on the motorcade.
The limousine was still several minutes away from the spot in which the shots were historically fired, so she turned, trying to find the The Texas School Book Depository where Lee Harvey Oswald fired from. It was blocked by tree foliage. There were so many conspiracy theories that he was not the only shooter. She stood on the grassy knoll up near the top, so she panned the camera around her immediate area. She saw Abraham Zabruder standing on a cement pedestal a little further up the knoll behind her, as he filmed the most famous assassination footage of all time. She saw the wooden picket fence where a second shooter might have been standing, and climbed the little hill in that direction, filming the whole time.
She had never been a conspiracy theorist, but she hadn't really believed that the mousey little Lee Harvey Oswald was the only one involved, either. As she neared the top, the sun flashed on something just behind the fence, so she focused on the flash. What she saw made her host's jaw drop. The barrel of a high powered rifle was fitted through the slats of the fence, and it was pointed right at the president's limousine!