Timekeeper

by Alexandra Monir

  It feels just like time travel, Michele thought frantically. Only it can’t be. I don’t have the key—and I was never able to travel with Philip when I tried before. What is this?

  She watched with a mix of terror and awe as the room’s appearance shifted rapidly in a kaleidoscope of images, and for one split second it seemed they had soared through the ceiling and into the night sky, until they hurtled toward the ground, landing in a heap on a parquet floor. Michele heard a soft moan beside her.

  “Wh-what the hell—I’m losing my mind—” Philip’s voice stammered.

  Michele felt something slip out of her grasp. Philip’s hand was no longer in hers. She turned to face him—and drew back in shock. He was gone.

  “Philip!” Michele screamed, scrambling up off the floor. But her voice was drowned out by the sounds filling the ballroom: the strains of an orchestra playing a waltz, the din of laughter and chitchat, shoes clattering as dancers weaved across the room, glasses clinking, the sweep of heavy skirts and trains.

  “Oh. My. God,” Michele whispered, staring at the scene in front of her. It was undeniable: she was in another time. But how? And where was Philip?

  She circled the ballroom in a daze. While it seemed like she had returned to the Empire Room of the Waldorf-Astoria, lit by the same French chandeliers and sconces, everything else was vastly different. The contemporary decorations from the Autumn Ball had disappeared, replaced with gilded mirrors and European tapestries framed by garlands of ivy. Everywhere Michele looked, she saw a profusion of flowers—waterfalls of orchids, potted palms, and roses adorning the chandeliers and scattering along the outskirts of the dance floor. Even the second-floor balcony, where a classical orchestra played instead of the twenty-first-century jazz band, was festooned with colorful roses and plants.

  Ben, Caissie, Matt, and all the rest of Michele’s classmates had vanished, their places taken by a more formal crowd from another era. Instead of the teenage boys reluctantly clad in tuxedos, these were stately gentlemen all dressed in the same white ties and black tails, with white gloves adorning their hands. And while the Berkshire girls had worn sleek dresses with minimal fabric, these ladies waltzing were attired in low-necked, heavy gowns of brocade and velvet, embellished with eye-popping displays of jewelry.

  Michele weaved through the crowd, invisible to the ball guests as she searched for Philip. She nearly wilted with relief when she finally spotted him, but then felt a jolt of surprise at the sight of him chatting languidly with two other young men—as if he belonged there.

  Philip turned in her direction and his eyes widened, his face breaking into an incredulous smile at the sight of her. He was still dressed in the same tux that he’d worn to the Autumn Ball, yet his expression revealed to Michele at once that this was Philip from the past—the Philip who remembered and loved her.

  He hurriedly excused himself from his friends and signaled Michele to follow him into the corridor. She found herself running toward him, heart racing with anticipation. When they both reached the quiet corridor off of the ballroom, he threw his arms around her, jubilantly lifting Michele into the air, before burying his face in her neck as he held her tight.

  “I’m so happy to see you,” he murmured.

  “Me too,” she whispered.

  Lowering his head, Philip leaned in closer, gently brushing his lips against hers. Michele held him tighter, her knees weakening and her stomach flip-flopping ecstatically from the sensation of his kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back fervently. It felt like forever since they’d been together like this.

  “How long has it been since you last saw me?” she asked breathlessly, when they finally managed to break away, flushed and exhilarated. “What’s today’s date?”

  “November 19, 1910,” Philip replied, twirling her around playfully. “It’s only been one week, but I’ve missed you terribly all the same.”

  November 19, 1910—that was just before we separated, Michele realized. He doesn’t know yet that Time will force me to say goodbye. The thought brought sudden tears to her eyes, and she blinked them away, anxious to forget everything else, to simply hold on to this blissful moment with Philip in 1910.

  “I’ve missed you too. More than you know.” She pulled him into another embrace, closing her eyes as he kissed her hair. They clasped hands and walked farther down the corridor, unable to stop smiling at each other.

  “Is this the Waldorf?” Michele asked.

  Philip nodded.

  That means I didn’t just travel back in time—I traveled to another location, Michele marveled, remembering that the original Waldorf was located on what would be the site of the Empire State Building after the 1930s.

  “I’d been dreading coming here tonight, for the Vanderbilt Ball. It’s been so difficult for me to act as I did before you came into my life, going on with the same mundane frivolity,” Philip admitted. “But you know what they say: once you accept an invitation to a dinner or ball, only death can excuse you from the commitment—and even then your executor must attend on your behalf.” Michele giggled, and Philip grinned back. “Thank God I came. I wouldn’t have missed seeing you for the world.”

  The orchestra struck up Schubert’s Serenade, and Philip and Michele exchanged a glance, laughing softly.

  “That’s our cue.” He held out his hand, and Michele’s fingers intertwined with his—just as she had done with twenty-first-century Philip’s earlier that evening, in a future Time and place. As they began to waltz, faces pressed close together, it seemed they had both escaped the constraints of Time and the physical plane. All that existed was this: a love so strong it seemed to lift them off their feet, carrying them into another world.

  “What is this?”

  Michele turned around at the sound of Kaya Morgan’s voice. What was she doing in 1910?

  Michele dropped Philip’s hand in shock as she saw a pale-faced Kaya standing with a small group that included Ben Archer, a pained look on his face. They were back in the Waldorf-Astoria lobby, standing by the grand clock—the last place they’d been before transporting to 1910.

  “We’re back,” Philip murmured dazedly.

  Michele gasped, turning to him in hopeful astonishment. Did that mean … that the new Philip remembered being there with her in 1910?

  “Seriously, Philip. What happened to you?” Kaya’s eyes flashed as she looked between him and Michele.

  Philip suddenly seemed to snap back to the present.

  “I— Let me explain.” He gave Michele a quick glance, then stepped away from her, leading Kaya out of the lobby. As she watched him go, wondering what sort of explanation he’d come up with, she spotted Ben stalking away, his shoulders slumped. Michele hurried after him, back into the Empire Room.

  “Hey.” She grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you saw, but—”

  “I saw you and the new guy getting pretty damn close and dancing like old-fashioned weirdos,” Ben snapped. “What happened to that long-distance boyfriend you told me about? Seems like he disappeared awfully fast.”

  Michele knew she couldn’t very well tell Ben that Philip Walker and the “long-distance” boyfriend happened to be one and the same.

  “We were just … waltzing,” she told him instead, her face flushing as she realized how ridiculous that sounded in the twenty-first century. “Besides … I thought you said you were cool with going as friends.”

  Ben exhaled. “Yeah. I guess I did,” he said evenly.

  The jazz band chose that moment to segue into a bouncy, peppy rendition of the Depression-era tearjerker “Brother, Can You Spare a Dime.” After a few moments of silence between them, she couldn’t help remarking, “This is a pretty odd song choice for a school dance.”

  The corners of Ben’s mouth twitched. “I don’t think they’re exactly preaching to the choir here,” he said, gesturing to the privileged sons and daughters of New York surrounding them.

  Michele laughed. She knew she had
been forgiven.

  “Come on, let’s dance,” she said, pulling him toward the parquet floor. Michele’s heart felt lighter than it had in weeks, her hand still warm from Philip’s touch, her lips still tingling from his kiss.

  “I saw you and the new guy getting pretty damn close.…”

  As Ben’s words echoed in her ears, Michele found herself grinning with delight. This proved that Philip of 1910 and Philip of 2010 were the same.

  As they circled the floor, Michele noticed Caissie making her way to the punch bowl alone.

  “Hey, where’s Matt?” Michele asked Ben.

  Ben peered over the top of her head and pointed. He was dancing with some girl Michele hadn’t seen before.

  “I’m going to go check on Caissie,” Michele told Ben as the song ended. She was dying to tell her friend what had happened too.

  “What’s going on?” she asked once she reached her.

  “That sophomore has study hall with Matt,” Caissie said numbly. “She asked him to dance, and he asked me if I minded. Of course I wasn’t going to tell him no! But it’s been three dances in a row now.”

  Michele groaned. What was he doing?

  “I’m so sorry, Caissie. He’s just being immature. How were things going with you guys before?”

  “Pretty good, actually.” Caissie bit her lip. “We were having fun, but it was different than when we normally hang out. It felt exciting. And then … he decided to go dance with another chick.”

  “That’s so weird.” Michele looked across the ballroom at Matt, puzzled. “I wonder if he just got nervous. You should talk to him, casually ask him if everything’s okay.”

  “I don’t know, I just want to avoid him at this piont. Distract me, please. How’s your night going?”

  “Are you sure? I think avoiding him will only make things more awkward,” Michele advised.

  “I don’t know what to do. But I don’t want Matt looking over here and guessing that I’m all upset over him. So c’mon, tell me about your night.” Caissie took a sip of punch and looked at her expectantly.

  “Well, it’s been kind of unbelievable,” Michele said into her ear. “Philip remembered our song when the band played it—and then we went to talk alone, and somehow we went back in time to 1910! The old Philip was there and we were a couple—and when we were jolted back to the present, the new Philip remembered that we’d been somewhere else. It wasn’t just me imagining things or traveling on my own!”

  “Wait, what?” Caissie screeched. “Are you serious? What does it mean? And how could you go anywhere without your key?”

  “I have no idea. I almost don’t know whether to believe we really, physically traveled back in time—or if it was, I don’t know …”

  “Like a shared vision or something?” Caissie suggested, furrowing her brow in thought. “I guess that could be possible in your trippy world! So what happened with Philip? Did he say exactly what he remembered?”

  “No, Kaya and Ben were there when we … got back. He went to try to explain things to her, and I haven’t seen either of them since.” Michele scanned the crowd.

  Just then, Nick Willis from their English class approached Caissie and asked her to dance. Caissie looked over at Matt, still dancing with the sophomore, and firmly took Nick’s hand.

  “I want to hear this story again, with way more detail, when I get back,” she called over her shoulder before joining Nick.

  As Caissie disappeared into the whirl of dancers, Michele’s eyes lighted on Philip escorting Kaya into the room. Both of their faces looked shaken, but Kaya had a bright smile frozen on her face.

  Though Michele and Philip didn’t have another moment alone for the rest of the night, there was a new energy between them whenever their eyes met across the dance floor. Michele sensed that the veil was finally lifting—and a new chapter was just beginning between them.

  Age Shifting is the art of traveling through time in the body of your younger or older self. This is a highly advanced Timekeeper skill, one that involves both practice and conviction. Once you’ve mastered age shifting, you will be able to move through Time in the body of your choice, which becomes especially valuable as you age. Heart disease, chronic pain, and weak bones—they all disappear when you age shift into the body of your younger self. However, caution must be advised. Much as we need sleep for our bodies to function, we also need time to “rest” in our true age. Age shifting takes quite a toll on the body, and spending too many days being younger or older can limit your total life span. Yet if used moderately, this skill can have the opposite effect, adding years.

  —THE HANDBOOK OF THE TIME SOCIETY

  8

  Michele practically floated home after the dance, glowing as she greeted Walter and Dorothy. Her grandparents attributed her happiness to a successful date with Ben Archer, and she didn’t bother correcting them. When she finally made it to bed, Michele lay there for what seemed like hours, too keyed up to sleep. As the clock ticked later and later, she realized this was the perfect time to continue her father’s story. So she slipped out of bed, flashlight in hand, and crept down to the library and the secret passage within it.

  THE DIARY OF IRVING HENRY

  January 1888—New York City

  Now that we are secretly promised to one another, Rebecca has made it crystal clear that she expects me to pay her a visit at least once a month. It’s quite a journey from my university campus; there are no direct trains to the city from Ithaca, so I must travel to Pennsylvania first and then hop another train to Manhattan. Still, I arrive as promised a few weeks after Christmas and find Rebecca nearly jumping out of her skin in eagerness to share some news. She clutches a leather-bound journal possessively in her hands.

  “I was paid a fascinating call today,” she boasts. “Millicent August—isn’t that the most intriguing name? Well, you will never begin to imagine who she is!”

  I plop into a chair, instantly grumpy. Every time I have to hear about one of Rebecca’s extraordinary adventures, my alter ego of envy rears its head. I can’t understand why I must be stuck in the provincial 1880s when I could be in the future like Rebecca, learning medical and scientific marvels. I keep trying to remind myself that as soon as we’re married, she will take me—though it grates on me that she’s pulling my strings this way, keeping me hooked with the promise of time travel. But the promise alone is tempting enough to hold me to my position as Rebecca’s reluctant fiancé.

  She leans forward, unable to hold in her news any longer. “Millicent August is almost one hundred years old, though she looks no older than my mother, and she is the leader of the Time Society. It seems there is a whole entity of people out there, just like me. I don’t know whether to be upset that I’m not the only one or pleased that I now have people on my level to associate with.”

  I sit up straight, paying full attention now. “So others can do it too? Did you ask her how?”

  Rebecca pauses before responding. “It’s called the Time Travel Gene. People know if they have the gene, just as I do.” She gestures to the book. “Millicent gave me this handbook filled with information on the Time Society, and only members are allowed to see it. There are all sorts of rules and things, she says.” Rebecca rolls her eyes. “But the main reason she came to call was with an invitation. There is a grand hotel being built in San Diego, California, called the Aura. Everyone else thinks it’s simply a luxury hotel, but the truth is that one of the builders is a Time Society member, and the hotel is our new headquarters—”

  I reach out my hand. “Please. Can I read it?”

  “Irving! I told you it’s for members only.”

  “We’re to be married, though, aren’t we? And husband and wife share everything.” As the words leave my mouth, I suddenly hate myself for getting extricated in such an unholy engagement. But I can’t help it. I’m desperate to see the future.

  “Perhaps when we’re married, you can join the Time Society too,” Rebecca offers, tucking the book clo
se to her. “But until then, I’d better not go against Millicent’s wishes.”

  I look at Rebecca with narrowed eyes. It’s typical of her to brag about something she has, only to guard it jealously. And then it occurs to me that Rebecca never takes orders from anyone; in fact, she detests authority. Her poor mother had a nightmare of a time trying to discipline her, and gave up in the end. It just isn’t in Rebecca’s character to follow the rules of this Time Society. I know in that moment—there has to be more to the story.

  I descend the grand staircase alone, having just managed to wriggle out of Rebecca’s suffocating goodbye embrace. As I reach the bottom step, my hair mussed and face still fixed in a grimace, I fail to notice Rupert at the foot of the stairs until the butler clears his throat.

  “Oh—hello, Rupert. I’m just about to go into town to catch a train back.”

  “You’re planning to return here often, aren’t you?” Rupert gives me a knowing look. “Even after graduation.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask sharply. Does he know?

  “I mean that Miss Rebecca always gets her way,” Rupert says pointedly. “As your friend, I had hoped for a better sort of girl for you—though I can understand your reasoning for being with her. But if you are going to be living in the Windsor Mansion, there is something in this house that I feel I ought to show you. You might find it gives you an escape when you need one.”

  Rupert moves in the direction of the library, and I shuffle behind him. My face burns with shame as I realize he must somehow know that I plan to marry Rebecca and clearly don’t love her. He must think I’m doing it for the money and status, and the thought makes me cringe with disgust. If only I could tell Rupert the truth!

  We quickly reach the library, my favorite room in the new Windsor Mansion, with its floor-to-ceiling shelves and glass-enclosed cases filled with books upon books. Prized artwork and regal furniture also decorate the library, but I only have eyes for the hundreds of leather-bound tomes.