The Time Collector

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by Gwendolyn Womack


  “Wow, you go, girl. You sold all your snow globes?” Tish sounded more shocked over Melicent selling the snow globes than getting two million dollars. She looked at the sales receipt again. “To the same person?”

  A flutter hit Melicent’s stomach thinking about it. “Some guy came in and bought them all.” Some guy was putting it mildly. Tish would have flipped over her customer and been all over him trying to get his number, flirting in her yoga pants and sexy hoodie. Meanwhile Melicent hadn’t even been able to tell the man she’d made the globes—not that it mattered.

  Melicent checked her watch. “Can we talk about this later? You’re covering for me, remember? I’ve got a parent-teacher conference for Parker.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Tish sounded so put out. Melicent’s irritation returned tenfold. She’d had the school meeting on the calendar for weeks. She could literally quit her job right now and leave Tish in the lurch. The one thing holding her back was her loyalty. Melicent put on a tight smile and grabbed her purse.

  Before she left, Tish called out to her brightly, “I still want to know the story behind this sale.” She tapped the paper. “And think about that offer!”

  Melicent didn’t respond, already knowing that, just as Roan West had taken all her artwork from The Trove, soon she wouldn’t be there either.

  * * *

  When Melicent arrived at Parker’s school, all thoughts of Tish and the shop evaporated as Parker’s homeroom teacher ushered her into the principal’s office and took a seat too. She had thought she was having an end-of-the-semester parent-teacher conference, but instead they’d marshalled her in for an official sit-down meeting.

  “Miss Tilpin, I’m afraid we have a problem.” The principal got straight to the point.

  Melicent sat up straighter and clutched her purse in front of her. Her anxiety level rose as the principal sighed painfully. He seemed like a kind man. He was somewhere in his sixties, completely bald, and had aviator bifocals on that made him look like he was from the seventies.

  “Parker has been skipping school.” He dropped the bombshell. “He was caught trying to leave campus yesterday and received detention. We spoke to his afternoon teachers, and it seems that this has been going on for some time.”

  “Skipping school?” Melicent shook her head in disbelief.

  “He leaves at lunch,” Parker’s homeroom teacher added. “We were going to have him sit in on this meeting today, but he’s left again.”

  “To go where?” Melicent all but yelled. She couldn’t fathom that her brother had been doing such a thing—was doing such a thing. “Where is he right now?”

  “We don’t know.” The principal looked down at the student file in front of him. “His friend BJ has been skipping too. As you know, leaving campus is a serious offense. And Parker will be receiving Fs this quarter in his last three periods.”

  Melicent nodded slowly, overwhelmed. She was going to strangle her brother when she found him. Forget the new car, the kid was grounded.

  The principal and homeroom teacher exchanged looks, both uncomfortable. “Miss Tilpin, we’re taking into account that Parker has been through a lot this year with his mother’s passing.” The principal added, “As have you.” His eyes were sympathetic.

  “But that’s still no excuse,” Melicent said, sounding shorter than she meant to be. She didn’t know what made her angrier, the fact Parker had been skipping school with BJ or that he’d lied about it. And not only had he been missing the majority of his afternoon classes by sneaking off campus, he wasn’t even on the debate team, which was where she thought he was spending his time after school.

  What the hell was he doing?

  By the time she was done with the meeting, she could barely remember what else had been said. All she knew was Parker would have to do summer school at the end of the year if he hoped to be a senior next year. He also had some kind of community volunteer hours to do, starting in January. Melicent had basically agreed to everything to keep her brother from getting expelled.

  When she left the principal’s office she was so livid she was shaking. She drove straight to BJ’s.

  No one appeared to be home. Melicent marched through the backyard, past the garage, to the back room where she could still remember BJ and Parker playing when they were little kids.

  When she walked in, the space looked like anything but a kids’ playroom. Piles of empty beer cans were scattered around several guitars and beat-up amplifiers. Junk food wrappers littered the room and an ashtray filled with cigarette butts sat next to a bong.

  Her eyes landed on Parker. He and BJ were frozen, not sure what to hide first.

  “This is what you’ve been doing instead of going to school?” she bellowed.

  Parker and BJ jumped to their feet. Parker stammered, “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Melicent was so furious she couldn’t even think straight. “You’re skipping school to get high and drink beer? What am I, stupid?”

  Parker’s face hardened with anger and he crossed his arms.

  Melicent was too mad to care, flat-out yelling. “Did you think no one would notice?”

  Parker looked like he wasn’t going to answer her, then he shrugged. “Yeah.”

  That took the wind from her anger and she could feel a big ball of emotion rising up to choke her. Suddenly Melicent felt like the worst sister in the world—the worst guardian—because what Parker said was true. She hadn’t noticed.

  BJ had family problems, the kind that had made Sadie try to get Parker to hang with other kids more than once. BJ’s parents wouldn’t notice or care if their son was skipping school. But Sadie would have noticed—if she were still alive. And she would have stopped it, much sooner than this.

  Parker had been left alone, fending for himself ever since their mother had gotten sick. He’d put up a brave front, a silent front, coming and going and never making a demand. But now Melicent knew how fragile that front had been.

  Melicent couldn’t say another word. For the first time she was witnessing the depth of her brother’s pain, the damage it had done, and the moment overwhelmed her.

  BJ sat huddled in the corner. Melicent had known BJ most of his life and had babysat him for half of it. She gave him a cutting look. “This”—she made a circular motion with her hands, indicating the room—“this is over.” She turned back to Parker. “We’re leaving. Now.” She marched out.

  Parker followed behind without a word.

  * * *

  They drove home in stony silence. Parker’s new cell phone binged in his pocket. He had the good sense to ignore it.

  Melicent finally spoke. “I don’t know what the hell you think skipping school and sitting in the back of a garage is going to accomplish. You’re just lucky—” She stopped and bit her lip.

  “What? That Mom’s not here?” His voice caught.

  Again the phone dinged. Parker didn’t pull it out of his pocket.

  Melicent mentally berated herself. God, she was an idiot. “The bottom line is you’re doing summer school at the end of the year to make up those classes.”

  “Whatever.” He sounded petulant.

  Ding ding ding. The phone was making too much noise to ignore.

  “And no more hanging out with BJ. I’m serious.”

  Parker didn’t say anything, until he asked, “Am I still getting the car?”

  “No. I don’t know. Don’t ask me right now,” she flip-flopped, trying to focus on driving. “First you have to get a job.”

  “Didn’t you just sell a watch for like two million dollars?”

  “You need to learn responsibility! You need things to do besides getting stoned in a garage!”

  Parker let out a pained sigh.

  She tried to dial her anger back down. “Isn’t that café on Washington hiring? Something part-time, a few hours a week after school to help you readjust. I swear it’ll help.”

  “Help what? To miss Mom less?” He
crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window, his eyes suspiciously bright.

  Melicent hesitated. “No. Nothing will help with that.”

  Parker’s phone started emitting another string of sounds. “Jesus!” he exploded. He pulled it out. “What is going on?”

  Melicent let out a sigh and turned into their subdivision. She had no idea if how she was handling Parker’s situation was right. As she drove down her street, she absently waved back to several neighbors who were out doing their lawns and to Mrs. Mercer, who lived across the street. The little old lady was in the middle of her afternoon power walk. Sadie had been a friend to everyone within a three-block radius. Many people living on this street had been a lifeline during the last year, delivering meals, dropping off groceries, and driving Sadie to the doctor when Melicent couldn’t get off work.

  Parker put on his earphones and was busy reading texts. His fingers started flying as he texted someone back. Then he clicked on a link.

  “Holy shit,” he said to whatever he was watching.

  “Watch your language.” Melicent took her eyes off the road for a moment to give him a stern look.

  “Sorry, but you’re going to freak,” Parker said with wide eyes. “You’re on YouTube.”

  “I’m on what?” She had no idea what he was talking about. “Why on earth am I on YouTube?”

  He unplugged his headset and played the video he was watching. Her voice came through loud and clear on the phone’s speaker.

  “And what’s your name?”

  “Melicent Tilpin.”

  The blood rushed to her head as she listened to herself talk to the appraiser at the Antiques Roadshow. She’d signed a release to possibly be on a future show, but she hadn’t expected to be streaming on a YouTube channel within days.

  “Sometimes I pick up stuff and I can sense things, their history.”

  Her voice filled the car. In a daze, Melicent pulled into their driveway and hit the button to open the garage door.

  “There’s like ten thousand views on this already,” Parker said. “‘Psychometrist finds million-dollar watch with the power of her hands.’ You’re, like, famous.”

  “What? Antiques Roadshow called me a psychometrist?”

  “This isn’t from Antiques Roadshow … it’s on some psychic investigator’s YouTube channel.”

  Her mind was spinning. First the newspaper and now she was on some wacko’s YouTube channel racking up thousands of views?

  “Some dude uploaded it the day we were there.”

  “You’re saying that’s been on YouTube all week?”

  “Tori and Stephanie saw it and texted me. They recognized us.”

  Melicent could barely park the car. Her whole body was quivering. She felt naked, exposed. Anyone in the world could watch that video.

  Parker asked her, “Did you really sense those things with your hands?”

  Melicent couldn’t answer right away. “Yes. It’s hard to explain.” She’d been grappling her whole life with how to explain the random thoughts and sensations that filled her when she held something for too long.

  Maybe because Parker was still smarting over the day’s events and her anger, he didn’t ask her to talk about it.

  Melicent turned off the car. Before she could say anything Parker got out and slammed the door. She got out too. Her mind still reeling, she unlocked the garage door to the house and went to turn the doorknob.

  When her palm touched the knob, an ominous feeling wrapped around her wrist like a snake, along with a sharp sensation.

  She jerked back with a startled cry.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Parker was standing behind her.

  “Nothing, I…” she trailed off, staring at the doorknob in confusion.

  Parker opened it for her with an impatient twist and huffed inside.

  Melicent stood there a long minute, afraid to touch the door again. Her hand still tingled from the shock she’d received.

  A man—a stranger—had touched this doorknob and left behind a malevolent thought so corrosive, it felt like venom.

  11. THE LANTERNS

  THAT NIGHT MELICENT DOUBLE-CHECKED all the windows and doors, making sure they were locked. She stayed up late, listening to every creak and noise from the house. In bed, she tossed and turned. Every time she almost fell asleep, a clear image of the intruder’s face formed in her mind. He must have been a potential burglar, scoping out the neighborhood for unlocked doors.

  Tomorrow at work she’d look into getting an alarm system. She mentally put it on her to-do list, and when she woke the next morning, the doorknob incident seemed less scary in the light of day. Their subdivision had dealt with prowlers before, and there was a neighborhood watch. She’d let them know to be on the lookout.

  Everything would be fine.

  Before heading to work she dropped Parker off at school, now that BJ wasn’t giving him rides anymore.

  Parker looked out the window with a stoic air the whole way.

  She glanced over at him. “I have to close the shop tonight, so I’ll be home late. How are you getting home?” The subtext was no rides with BJ.

  “The bus. Maybe I’ll get mugged.”

  “Parker.”

  “What? Until I get a car I’ll be on the streets.”

  “You’re not on the streets. When you prove to me you’re going to try hard at school and show results, then you get a car.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You won’t even give me my driver’s license.”

  “Because you don’t need it yet. I don’t want you driving someone else’s car without me.” Melicent tried to reason with him. She kept his license with hers in her wallet. While he was sixteen, he only drove her car when she was with him. “And I mean it. No skipping.”

  “I’m not stupid.” He got out of the car in front of the school and slammed the door.

  She rolled down the window. “There’s leftovers in the fridge!”

  He swatted his hand behind his back, embarrassed by her calling out to him in front of other students. A group of nearby girls giggled.

  As Melicent watched him go inside the school a wave of self-pity descended on her. How did she handle a rebellious hormonal teenage boy who hated the world because his mother had died and now he was stuck with an inadequate sister?

  If anything happened to her then he’d have no one.

  She tried not to question that morbid thought and why it entered her mind—she was only twenty-seven. But the garage incident had shaken her. She couldn’t help feeling deep in her gut that the man had come for her.

  If something happened to her, she needed to make sure Parker would be provided for. Melicent harbored a fear that the Breguet company would one day come and demand that she give them back the money from the pocket watch. Perhaps it was irrational, but the sale still seemed too good to be true.

  Maybe she should get life insurance. Her situation was unusual, and it would be one more layer of protection for Parker.

  She stopped by the AAA office on her way to work and got the application. She’d been a club member for years, primarily for their towing service since her car was always breaking down. When she held the life insurance application in her hand that same feeling of dread rose up and threatened to overtake her again.

  Why had that man been in her garage? The question circled around in her head like the buzz of a fly that wouldn’t go away.

  As she drove to work, she considered the idea that maybe they should leave L.A., at least for a while. She could disguise it as an extended vacation, a celebration of the pocket watch sale. Tonight when she got home she’d pitch the idea to Parker and let him choose where to go. They both had passports. They could fly anywhere the day after school was out for the winter break, which was less than two weeks away. She’d be free from the shop as soon as she gave Tish her two-week notice.

  They could leave town and become anonymous until the watch story died down. In the meantime, she’d schedule an alarm
installation for the house and change the locks. Maybe she’d also buy pepper spray, or a Taser, or both.

  When she pulled into her parking spot behind The Trove, she was more determined than ever to quit her job right away.

  * * *

  Tish all but melted down over her cappuccino when Melicent informed her that she was leaving. It was their busiest time of the year. Melicent tried to appease her by saying she would handle interviewing the candidates and that Tish could meet with the contenders. Tish still took the news hard and huffed out of the store, not mentioning her offer to partner with her again.

  Melicent remained determined to gracefully maneuver her exit by the end of the two weeks. She decided to focus on organizing the inventory in the back room and tried to shut off all of the worries running through her mind.

  She pulled down an enormous box from the top shelf, already knowing what was inside. Last year Tish had come back from Nepal with three dozen paper lanterns. The rectangular shapes had vibrant mandala patterns painted on them with intricate designs.

  “Made from the finest Lokta paper!” Tish had said, as if that would make it easier for Melicent to turn around and sell all thirty-six.

  Perhaps guilt over giving Tish her two-week notice before the holidays made Melicent open up the box and figure out how to showcase the lanterns. She spent the remainder of the day creating a fantastical display in the store window by stringing all the lanterns up and interlacing them with pin lights, wind chimes, and paper windmills.

  Creating the window display became a welcome distraction, and random thoughts and images came to her as she handled the lanterns. She saw a Tibetan nunnery surrounded by the majestic cloudscape of the Himalayas—and a woman, the lantern maker, who was somewhere in her fifties and dressed in the traditional red robes of a Tibetan nun with a shaved head. The woman’s eyes shone with serenity and her hands were gentle as she fashioned the paper lanterns’ frames. That peaceful energy had been affecting Melicent all day like a soothing balm.

 

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