Springback

by Jana Miller

  She pushed her lips to the side, then smiled. “Deal.”

  * * *

  It took me the whole day to come up with a plan for confronting Leah, but I still didn’t feel prepared when Jake pulled into a parking space at the library or while we waited for Leah’s white Jetta to pull in.

  He pointed it out as she arrived, and I took a deep breath, nervous about confronting Leah with what I’d discovered. I turned to Jake. “Ready?”

  He turned his head towards me, eyes narrowed. “Let’s do this thing.”

  I snorted and my nerves relaxed a little.

  We got out and walked toward where she’d parked. “Hey Leah,” I said as she got out.

  “Hi,” she said with a surprised sort of smile. “I thought you’d already be in there.”

  “I’m a little late,” I told her. I glanced around the parking lot and saw nobody, so I jumped in before I lost my nerve. “What do you know about the car accident my sister was involved in a few years ago?”

  I had decided that surprising her would be the easiest way for me to gauge her immediate reaction. Jake and I were both prepared to rewind if she looked at all guilty so we could try the conversation another time.

  But I didn’t see any guilt. I saw surprise and confusion. I saw her eyes moving back and forth, her mouth searching for words, and maybe a little bit of sympathy just before she replied, “I—I remember you mentioning it…” She gave me a searching look. “She was hit in the street, I think?” She looked at Jake, then back at me. “Why…? What’s going on?”

  I looked at Jake, who shrugged with his eyebrows, his hands in his pockets.

  Biting my lips together, I looked back to Leah. “The other day, we came to your house,” I began. “But when I saw—” My throat tightened, and I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous for myself or for Leah. I swallowed. “Your mom answered the door, and I rewound it.” I glanced at Jake. “Because I recognized her.”

  Leah watched me, bewildered.

  “She—” I cleared my throat. “A few years ago, she hit my sister. With her car.” Leah’s eyes widened. “And she did it…she did it more than once. When I rewound it.” Leah was shaking her head slowly, her face pale. “I think she did it until it got scary enough that I let it happen.” She covered her hand with her mouth, backing up just a fraction. “I mean, I had to let it happen. I rewound and stopped it once, but she came back the next day and it was worse. I rewound that, but then we both got hit, and she—it was really bad.”

  Now both hands were over her mouth as her eyes shone. Her reaction left absolutely no room for doubt. She’d had no idea. She was horrified—and probably several other emotions as well. My own throat tightened as I watched her try to reconcile this information with what she knew about her mom. She didn’t try to deny it, or even ask if we were sure. And I knew why. From the way she’d talked about her mom, this most likely confirmed some of her suspicions about the lengths to which Lillian was willing to go to stop other rewinders.

  “Chloe, I’m—I’m so sorry. I…had no idea.”

  I shook my head. She shouldn’t have to apologize for this. I almost apologized for even telling her. “I know,” I said. “I mean, I didn’t know—not for sure—” I bit my lip.

  She wiped at her eyes and slumped against her car, blowing out a breath. “So I guess that’s why you asked what I knew about it…to see if I was in on it too?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged an apology and she nodded her understanding.

  For a moment she looked lost as she glanced around with wide eyes, then she pressed her hands into her eyes and into her hair. “I swear, the only thing she’s ever had me do is check on you, Chloe. And I never told her anything that would have made her suspicious—” She stopped, pressing her lips together, and suddenly looked scared. “Or what if I did? Oh my gosh, Chloe, what if I did tell her something, and that’s why she did that? Maybe you told me something you’d tried, and I rewound it, then I told my mom and she rewound it…” My stomach clenched as she put her hand over her mouth again for a moment. “What if it’s my fault?” she whispered.

  Jake and I were both shaking our heads. “It’s not your fault,” Jake said emphatically.

  “Even if you did tell her anything,” I added. “There’s no way you could have known she would do something that—”

  “Sick,” Leah finished for me.

  For a moment I actually thought about rewinding this conversation. I hadn’t meant for Leah to take the blame for any of this. But even if I’d been crazy enough to try pulling the strands now, I knew this was something she had to know about her mom. Even if it was the most disgusting thing she would ever hear.

  “She told me to practice stopping time,” she said now, her voice sounding oddly detached. “Yesterday. She had me practice a few times to make sure I could do it, then she had me try to stop it at the same time as her.”

  “Yeah, we know,” I said. “You told Jake—before I rewound it.”

  She nodded. “She’s talked before about becoming Masters of Time—both of us—about making sure things are ‘how they’re supposed to be.’ I didn’t know she would go that far to get her way. And I’ve never known if she had some specific time period she wants to rewind to, but . . .” She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. “I should have asked before now,” she said, more to herself than to us. “I should have demanded more details. Made her show me what she was reading and take me where she went—”

  “Leah,” I said gently. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out. You didn’t know.”

  “But it’s more than that,” she said, looking pained. “I really think that when she says that—about changing things—she means that your family should never have been able to rewind in the first place. I think that’s why she wants to become a Master of Time.”

  “I know,” I said. “You told me that from the start.” But then it registered. “Wait. She thinks that none of my family should have ever been able to do it?” I blinked several times. “How—how would she do that?”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I can only guess.”

  “But if it goes all the way back to Melvin—Melvin Wright, in my family—” I swung my backpack from my shoulder so I could get out the family tree. “I found him,” I explained to both of them. “The journal guy, he’s like my fifth great grandpa. If his journal talks about the Ring, then at least six generations of my family have been rewinders.” I pulled out the pages my mom had printed out for me and looked at Leah, hoping she’d interject something before I could take this conversation to its natural conclusion.

  But she just bit her lip. “She’s convinced there are no limitations on a Master of Time,” she said shakily.

  I swallowed. “So that’s what she wants to do. She wants to go back two hundred years and do something to my family.” Once again, my heart rate was speeding up. Why couldn’t I have a conversation about this woman without full-blown anxiety interfering? “We already know she’s not afraid of—of hurting people,” I said.

  “But this is only if she can enter the Ring without destroying it, and if she can go back far enough,” Jake reminded me. “It seems pretty unlikely.”

  “Yeah, but still,” I said, and even though it felt like a dream, I still found myself continuing. “If she could, it probably wouldn’t be that difficult. She could stop the first rewinder from learning it, from ever meeting your family in the first place.” I stared down at the names of several generations of my grandparents. “Or she could…kill one of my ancestors—”

  Jake was shaking his head furiously, but Leah’s white face probably looked like my own. “You think she wouldn’t do it?” I asked Jake. “She could easily cause an accident, or…” I shook my head, feeling bad that Leah had to hear us talking about her mom like this. “Even if she didn’t go that far, just making my great-great-whatever grandparents never meet would totally change everything for me. My whole family tree could be wiped out.” I gripped the pages I was still h
olding. “She could make it so I’m never born.”

  Jake just stared at me as I clumsily stuffed the pages back into my backpack. I knew I couldn’t talk or think about this rationally right now, so I told them I needed to get inside. I was fifteen minutes late—not that I particularly cared—but it was a good reason to give myself some space.

  * * *

  Leah gave me about ten minutes before coming over.

  "Here,” she said quietly, and I saw she’d brought Gene’s journal again. “I thought you guys could look through this. Maybe there’s something I missed. I’ve marked the two entries with the most information."

  The first was from when Gene was twelve, talking about the first time his mother showed him the amulet.

  I expected the amulet to be grand or beautiful, but it’s just old. It is made of emerald and copper, smaller than the palm of my hand. The symbol on it was interesting, though. I also expected it to feel powerful, but it just sat in my hand. I asked her what it does and she looked at me like I was daft. But I just don’t understand why we need it if it doesn’t do anything anymore.

  The other one was his last entry—the one she’d mentioned earlier, from when he was in his fifties.

  I believe I have discovered what he was talking about when he told me about the Ring of Time before he died. The amulet has the ability to allow us to enter the Ring, but it must be done properly. None of the others who have attempted it were prepared, and Alex certainly did it at the wrong time. None of them knew what they were doing. The diagram I found in Mother’s things leads me to believe that timing is of utmost importance. I plan on attempting it next week.

  That was the last entry.

  “Who’s Alex?” I asked.

  “I think it must be Alexander Stoneman, his great-uncle. He’s the one who had the amulet before my great-grandma, who passed it to Grandpa Gene.”

  “What do you think he means by ‘none of others’?” I asked Leah. “Did several people attempt to enter the Ring?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe the kids that caused the accident a hundred years ago? They would have been in the same generation as Alexander, I think.”

  “Any idea what the diagram is he’s talking about?”

  “Nope.”

  “And the ‘timing’ that’s so important?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay.” I flipped through the journal a little. “Your mom doesn’t know you have this, right?”

  “No, so I need to put it back soon. She’ll probably need it for whatever she’s planning next.”

  “Isn’t that a really good reason for us to keep it?” Jake asked, coming up behind her.

  He was right; he and I had talked about going back far enough to prevent her from getting it, so why shouldn’t we at least keep it from her now?

  But Leah shook her head. “The damage has already been done. The only thing that will happen if I don’t put it back is that she won’t trust me at all. And I’ve got to get her to open up to me more.” Her jaw tightened. “It’s the only reason I’m not home packing up my stuff right now.”

  “What?” Jake asked.

  She looked at him. “You think I want to live with her now? Knowing what she’s done?” She shook her head. “I’ve been saving up money for a while so I can move out. One of my friends from school wants me to move in with her, and if I didn’t feel like I have to keep an eye on my mom, I would be there already. And now, with what you told me today…”

  I hadn’t really thought about how awful it must be to have your only parent be such a jerk. “What about your dad?” I asked timidly.

  “He left a long time ago,” she said. “And the more I find out about my mom, the less I blame him.”

  Jake and I looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

  “So…” Jake began, “What now?”

  I tapped my fingers on the desk for a moment before I remembered. “There are Wright family journals in Scottsdale!” I suddenly told them.

  “What?”

  I filled them in about the email I’d gotten the first time I’d lived this day, found the phone number in it, and took a cart of books to a back aisle to pretend to shelve them while I called Susie.

  “Hi, Susie,” I began awkwardly after her perky voicemail greeting. After introducing myself and trying to explain who I was, I said, “I’m doing a project on…family history, and I would really love to come look through anything you have, so if you could call me back as soon as possible, that would be great.” I gave my phone number and hung up, blowing out a breath and wondering what else we could do while we waited.

  “We need to search for the amulet,” Jake said abruptly when he found me. “It’s the key to everything,” he explained when I just looked at him. “If we have it, we can fix it. And if Lillian doesn’t have it, she can’t make it worse.”

  I looked past him to Leah, who’d followed him back. She shrugged when I gave her a questioning look. “I mean, I’ve looked some,” she said, “but I don’t know for sure if she has it.”

  Jake looked exasperated. “How else would she have messed up the Ring?” he asked.

  She shrugged.

  “So, what,” I asked Jake skeptically, “We just go search Leah’s house?”

  “Yes!”

  “Oh.” I found myself unable to point out anything completely stupid about that idea.

  “Is your mom home?” Jake asked Leah, and my eyes got huge.

  “What, you mean now?” I asked.

  “Of course I mean now! What would we wait for? Another mind-melting springback?”

  He had a point.

  “No, she won’t get home till about seven,” Leah said.

  I lifted one shoulder. “I’m not done here until seven, so . . .”

  Jake just looked at me—a look that said, Really, Chloe?

  I bristled. “What? You guys can go if you’re in such a hurry. You don’t need three people to search a house.”

  Leah bit her lip. “Actually, my house is kind of big, and we kind of need to do it quick since we’ll have less than an hour, so . . .”

  “So we should do it another day.” My stomach was in knots just imagining sneaking around anybody’s house—especially Lillian’s. “Isn’t she gone all the time?”

  “Yeah, but…I think Jake is right. There’s no telling when she’ll do something else. Or when we might need to pull time—”

  “Which would make it even worse,” Jake interrupted. “Come on, Chloe. Can’t you just tell them you need to go? Say you’re sick, or have a lot of homework, or—”

  I sighed. I hated when he was right. “Give me a few minutes.”

  * * *

  I wasn’t sure why I was so hesitant—other than the fact that I felt like a felon. I knew how important and how urgent it was that we get the amulet. I just wished we didn’t have to do it in a house that felt like slime to me now that I knew who lived here. How could I go into her house—look through her things—when I knew who she was? The whole drive over I tried to take deep breaths, telling myself over and over that it was my job to stop her. I hadn’t been able to stop her from hurting Janie; I hadn’t been able to stop her from messing up the Ring of Time; but I was not going to let her hurt anybody else in my family. If I had to go into her house to stop her, then fine. I would do it.

  I pushed away the nausea I felt approaching the front door, pushed away the memory of Lillian’s face when she’d opened it. I took a deep breath and followed Jake and Leah inside.

  “So, where have you looked?” Jake asked after we’d said hi to Gene.

  “I’ve checked all the obvious places down here,” she said. “I looked in the guest bedrooms upstairs too, but I can’t look in hers because she keeps it locked.”

  I groaned to myself as Jake got a determined look in his eye. “Then that’s where we need to look. What kind of a lock is it?”

  As Jake worked on picking the lock, I told them I’d check the guest bedrooms again.
>
  “Wait, I got it,” Jake answered, opening the door. “I just had to stick the screwdriver in and turn it just right.” He grinned in a satisfied way.

  My stomach dropped. “I’ll—I’ll just wait out here,” I said. “To keep watch.”

  Leah gave me a sympathetic look as she pulled Jake into the room, preventing him from pressing the issue.

  I listened to them pushing things around, opening and closing drawers, and riffling through her closet.

  “Is this a file cabinet?”

  “Yeah, but I think that’s locked too.”

  I heard the sound of a drawer sliding open. “Nope.”

  I looked both ways down the hall, fulfilling my lookout duty as I tried not to be too curious about what they were finding. I could hear Jake moving files around and muttering like he was reading to himself. “Wait a minute—”

  But then I heard a creak from the direction of the stairs, and my pounding heart covered up any more sounds. I held my breath for a moment, staring at the stairs and backing towards the door of Lillian’s room.

  “Her name?” Leah was saying. “Where?”

  “Here, on this file.” I glanced in to see Jake just inside of the walk-in closet, pulling out a file folder.

  Swallowing, I looked toward the stairs again, but nobody was there. I hadn’t heard any doors open downstairs, so there was no way Lillian could be here. I let out my breath when I didn’t hear anything else, then glanced back into the room.

  Leah was looking down at a sheet of paper she was holding, her eyebrows furrowed, and Jake was looking up at me, his expression unreadable.

  “What?” I asked, and Leah looked up at me.

  “She has—” Then she shook her head a little. “It’s probably nothing. It was filed away, so—”

  I took a couple steps into the room. “What is it?”

  She bit her lip and brought it over to me. The folder Jake was holding was empty, apparently having held only one page, which Leah handed to me.

  My breath caught as I saw that it was a print-out of Max’s obituary.

  I stared at it for a minute. “Why—?” I glanced up at them, and Leah had a pained expression. “Why would she have this?”