Thumbing through a book about Lincoln, Leon is strangely attracted to a daguerreotype of John Wilkes Booth. There is a magnetism in the eyes. Leon is floating through some strange time warp. He spirals within a cyclone and spins through the years and lands in Brooklyn in the Roaring Twenties. He's Callie, super-blond, super-flapper. Callie lands in 1864 and goes mad because she doesn't understand what has happened. She gets involved in a conspiracy to kill President Lincoln. Slowly Callie (Boots)/Booth realizes what's happening but isn't up enough on her history. The end is inevitable. John Wilkes Booth lands in 1968, and accustoms himself to part of today's world. He is prepared for this because when his fate had been decided he had the picture of himself made and prayed to be absorbed by the spirit of whoever saw the picture after a hundred years, with such a desperation that when Leon, the first to see it in the prescribed time (he was cleaning out his grandmother's attic), magic occurred.
Booth is an 1860's southerner in 1968 Brooklyn. One day while crossing the street, he is killed by a speeding motorist.
Leon cannot be a super flapper. He isn't that friendly with people. The spiralling, that awful dizzying spin, had told him something supernatural had happened. He plans to make a fortune and sell stocks just before the Market crashes and buy property, etc. just after. A jumble. He dies from a heart attack.
Or, all this happens when Booth is in a barn and is looking at a photo of himself. The switch occurs after he sets fire to the barn and Herold shoots him, but the marshals know there is something strange about the dead man's face.
Callie dies, causing a timewarp discrepancy. The two live spirits, Booth and Leon, are in telepsychic battle with each other and only one can win. Leon, who is vain, kept a diary of how either the person who left his body, or Booth, will die through traps...No good, huh?
All right. Forget it. I'm going to bed.
