The Time Collector

by Gwendolyn Womack

“You’re not hurt?” He searched her eyes and she shook her head, the trauma of the night still a cloud around her.

  Parker announced, “Before we go anywhere I want proof.”

  “Proof of what?” Roan turned to him.

  “Of everything!” Parker raised his voice, becoming emotional. “My sister says you can do what she can do, only better. It’s why you’re here. To help her. So prove it!”

  Roan met Melicent’s gaze again in the mirror.

  Parker crossed his arms. “We’re not going anywhere until you prove it.”

  “Fine.” Roan pulled off his right glove. “Give me your wristband.”

  Parker’s hand went to his left wrist on reflex. Melicent knew her brother never took the leather cuff off. She doubted he’d hand it over.

  Parker stalled by asking, “Why?”

  “You want proof. I need to borrow it. I’ll give it back.” Roan put the car in drive and started driving.

  Parker gripped the dash. “Wait! I said—”

  “I know. But I suggest we do this on another street and not in front of your house.” Roan turned the corner and found a spot several blocks down on a side street. He shut off the car’s ignition and gave Parker his full attention. “Now,” he said, holding out his right hand like a magician about to perform a trick, “the wristband.”

  Melicent almost spoke up to warn her brother that he may not want to hand it over. After what Roan had discovered from touching her art at the store, no amount of money would make her give him her jewelry.

  But Parker surprised her by slipping it off.

  “Thank you.” Roan held the wristband with surprising gentleness and closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them again and looked at Parker closely, a hint of surprise on his face. Then he said, “You got this in Hawaii. Your mother gave it to you. A woman was selling these at a gift stand where you had lunch. Your sister was there.” Roan’s eyes glanced to Melicent in the back. She met his eyes in the mirror, holding her breath. He was looking at her, like he was comparing her to how she’d been all those years ago. He dropped his gaze and focused on the wristband again. “The trip was a splurge, a surprise present from Sadie for the three of you. The owl carved into the leather is an ’aumakua, a family guardian in Hawaii. The woman selling it said it would bring you luck, and you never take it off.”

  The car was quiet. Parker was listening with bated breath. That trip was one of Parker’s happiest memories.

  Roan jumped forward in time and announced, “You’ve been skipping school…”

  Parker snapped out of his daze and crossed his arms, defensive again. “Did my sister tell you that?”

  “… to go to the cemetery,” Roan finished his sentence.

  Both Parker and Melicent were stunned into silence.

  “You bring your mother flowers. Carnations because you can’t afford anything else. You talk to her, clean the headstone, some days you cry, some days you lie on the grass and read books. Some days you just sit, wondering if death would be easier.” He fingered the wristband. “You thought about digging a hole beside her grave and burying this with her because you don’t feel lucky anymore at all.”

  Tears pooled in Parker’s eyes as he listened to Roan go on. The intimacy within the car became stifling.

  “You don’t want to burden your sister. You think her life will be better without you, and you’ve been planning to run away. That’s why you were at BJ’s that day, to finalize your plan. He has a cousin up in Michigan you were going to stay with until you found work. Once you had the car—”

  “Enough!” Parker yelled. “Enough.” He grabbed the wristband back and held it in both hands with a sob, bowing his head.

  “I’m sorry—” Roan began, but then stopped.

  Melicent was too stunned to say anything. The bottom of her world had given way. Parker had been spending all that time at the cemetery, and she’d assumed the worst.

  He was going to run away. From her.

  “Just drive,” Parker said, his voice sounding small. With those two words he was giving Roan permission to help them.

  Roan put his glove back on and started the car. They drove in silence. Melicent was too dumbstruck by Parker’s confession to make sense of what was happening until Roan asked, “Do you have ID?”

  “Sorry?” she asked, her mind blank.

  “Do you have identification? Can you fly?”

  She nodded and then realized he couldn’t see her in the dark. “Yes. To where?”

  “New Orleans.”

  Parker was staring straight ahead, vacant. What had happened tonight was too much. He’d passed the brink.

  Melicent was barely functioning herself. In one night her entire life had been stripped away. She looked out the front window. There were few cars on Lincoln as they drove to LAX. She watched the road stretch out like a black band between the headlights, unspooling infinitely in the dark.

  18. THE WINDOW

  “IS IT MAGIC?”

  Roan looked up from his coffee to find Parker studying him. They were at the Atlantic Aviation terminal at LAX, reserved for private planes, and sequestered in the corner of the lobby with coffee, waiting for their plane to fuel. Melicent had stepped away to the ladies’ room, leaving Parker and Roan alone.

  “No,” Roan said with a faint smile. His proof in the car had fired up the sixteen-year-old’s imagination. “I don’t control anything. I only see it.”

  Parker glanced down to his coffee cup as if it held better answers.

  Roan could tell Parker wanted to talk but didn’t know how. What an earnest kid, Roan couldn’t help but think now that he’d read him. Roan hadn’t expected to feel so overwhelmed holding his wristband. Without warning he’d gotten tangled up in all the joy, sadness, and pain inside it. Parker had worn that leather band every day for six years, and it held a trove of memories; jewelry always did—the more worn, the denser. That wristband had been a time machine, showing Roan the last years of Parker’s childhood, before his voice had deepened and become a man’s. Parker was still a boy stretched inside a tall frame, a little boy afraid of heights, afraid of the dark, a boy who loved his mother and missed her very much.

  “I’m sorry about your house,” Roan offered in a quiet voice. He understood the power of home and through the imprints had witnessed Melicent’s desperate attempt to save theirs. Helpless anger filled Roan at whoever had done this to them.

  Parker nodded, trying to appear strong. In that moment he looked so much like Melicent it was uncanny. The two siblings shared Sadie’s fair coloring and same delicate features.

  Roan would have loved to touch something of Sadie’s to learn what had happened to Parker and Melicent’s father. Who was he? Why wasn’t he in the picture? Then Roan shook his head at himself. He had no right to be sifting through their past. Melicent and Parker’s family dynamics were none of his business.

  His eyes strayed across the lobby, watching Melicent return to their seats. He felt a tightening in his gut, unable to ignore his growing attraction to her. His eyes swept her body, for the first time getting a good look at the bizarre floral sweatpants and jacket set she was wearing, no doubt borrowed from her elderly neighbor. It looked like sportswear a senior citizen would wear—a tiny one. The pants were too short and the faux-velvet jacket hugged her rib cage. When she walked he caught a glimpse of skin at her waist.

  He met her eyes. She was watching him watch her. They stared at each other for a lingering moment. Roan wondered what it’d be like to kiss her.

  She slid into the leather seat next to her brother. Roan could see Parker picking up on the tension between them. Roan’s mouth twisted in consternation at the whole situation. Suddenly his life had become incredibly complicated.

  They sat quietly until Melicent said, “I’d like to pay for our airfare.”

  “Please don’t worry about it.” Roan tried to brush aside her offer.

  “But it’s too expensive.”

  “Really, it’s n
ot a problem. I’ve been finding and selling watches my whole life.” It was why they were waiting in a terminal that looked like a hotel lobby instead of standing in line with the rest of LAX.

  Her lips pursed in a frown. He hadn’t meant to sound cavalier, but it was true. He shook his head at himself for coming across wrong, something he seemed to do with her too easily, and he pulled out his cell phone to check email. Holly should have finished up her meeting with Faye Young and delivered the heirloom for the foundation. As he scrolled through his inbox he could feel Parker scrutinizing him.

  The boy asked, “Why are you really helping us like this? Flying us in a private plane? Who does that?”

  Roan could have told him helping people was what he did—although usually they were dead. He exercised his ability by returning lost heirlooms to their original owner’s descendants. But the truth was ever since he’d seen that YouTube video, Melicent Tilpin was a comet that had come streaking across his world. Was he rescuing her or chasing her? Maybe both. And now he had her inquisitive sixteen-year-old brother to handle.

  An intent light shone in the boy’s eyes and Roan could tell that nothing but the absolute truth would fly.

  He tried to explain. “My good friend in England is a psychometrist. He’s part of a group of psychometrists who are researching out-of-place artifacts.”

  “Out of what?”

  “Out-of-place. They’re called ooparts.” Roan reached into his bag and took out Hanus’s key. He dropped it into Parker’s hand. “Like this one.”

  Parker held up the key with a frown. “Looks like an old key to me.”

  “Because it is.” Roan’s eyes slid to Melicent’s, then he took the key back and returned it to his bag. “But to a psychometrist we can sense the dual timelines running through it. These artifacts shouldn’t be in the time and place they’ve been found, and there’s no explanation as to why.”

  “So these psychometrists are trying to find the explanation?” Melicent asked.

  Roan didn’t offer the key to Melicent, knowing the last thing she needed was to sense Hanus’s lifetime. “My friend Stuart’s trying to tie the ooparts together and find a unifying factor.”

  Parker frowned. “So how many people are in this group?”

  “There were six. But now two of them are missing and one is dead,” Roan said bluntly. After the fire, Melicent and Parker needed to know what had happened to the others.

  Parker was speechless. Melicent’s hand covered her mouth in a quiet gasp.

  Roan looked at them gravely, his eyes settling on Parker. “That’s why we’re taking the plane.”

  * * *

  After they boarded and took off, Roan checked his watch—six A.M. Right on schedule. They were in the air as the morning news began. Whoever set the fire was probably still in L.A., but the arson had done its job, hiding the identity of whoever was behind it.

  Before Roan had picked Melicent and Parker up, he’d parked two blocks away and walked to the house and circled the perimeter. There had been no door left to touch and find the imprint Melicent had mentioned. Roan would have given anything to hold it.

  But he’d placed his hands on the trees and replayed the scene of the fire.

  A man had stood, hidden in the shadows, watching the house catch ablaze. He wore a hoodie up over his face, looking like a jogger in the cold. As the fire spread, the man hesitated and began to throw rocks at the bedroom window. When one shattered it, he ran off.

  Through the window Roan saw Melicent get up and run out of the room and across the hall. He saw her through another window on the other side of the house. It was Parker’s room.

  She threw her things into the yard and rushed to get her brother out. Parker didn’t want to go. He was too afraid. Somehow Melicent forced him. They made their way down and collapsed on the grass, heaving in air and hugging each other.

  Roan stayed with the imprint. His mind was so honed he was standing in the moment.

  The firefighters came and then the police. Roan stood in the center of the memory as they tried to save the house and rush Melicent and Parker to safety.

  He watched Melicent get oxygen and a blanket. Then he followed her as she walked to her car. She opened the car door and got in, crying alone in the dark. She found his card and clutched it in her hands.

  Roan sat beside her in the shadow of the past, wanting so much to comfort her. But these moments had already happened. There were no imprints left for Roan to investigate.

  The man in the hoodie had not been a jogger. Roan desperately wanted to know who he was and how he was connected to them.

  Too many questions were flooding his mind.

  He folded his fingers into Vyana mudra to help his tension release. At least Melicent and her brother were safe with him thirty-five thousand feet up in the air. They were sitting on the other side of the aisle, staring out their window as the clouds moved past, no doubt thinking about their circumstances and the bombshell he’d dropped on them at the airport by telling them what he did.

  Parker was the one who broke the silence. “So what now? We just hide out in New Orleans?” His eyes went to Melicent. “Skip school the rest of the year?”

  “I’ll call the school. We need some time to figure this out.” Melicent was trying to stay strong for both of them. She looked over to Roan.

  He asked her, “You said you felt the doorknob and saw him. What did you see?” She had touched her door and gotten an imprint. Right now this arsonist was the only lead he had to finding Stuart. This person had to be connected to Stuart’s disappearance.

  She hesitated, glancing at her brother. “He wasn’t from here. He came to L.A. to find me…” She glanced at her brother again.

  “What did he look like? How old?” Roan asked, trying to get her to dig deeper into the memory. “Close your eyes and try and reimagine it.”

  She did as he asked and soon let out a shuddering breath. “Brown hair. Forties? Tall. He had a baseball cap on and sweats and a canvas bag across his shoulders. Like an army duffel. He came to burn down the house.” Her voice caught. She looked at him. Her devastation grabbed at his heart, and Roan immediately felt guilty for asking her to see a painful moment again.

  Roan unbuckled his seat belt and moved over to join them on their side of the aisle. He sat across from her. “Hey, listen to me,” he said gently, putting his hands on her knees.

  She looked at him in surprise. The connection between them was like a running current, growing stronger every minute. “You two are going to stay in New Orleans, where you’ll be safe. I’m going to find out who’s behind this. Think of your time there as a short trip.” He would deposit them at a hotel downtown near the warehouse. Holly could watch over them while he went to London.

  Melicent nodded, defeat and despair on her face. In that moment Roan wanted nothing more than to hold her hand. For the first time the barrier of his gloves frustrated him. He wanted to take them off.

  19. THE GIFT BAGS

  AFTER THE PLANE LANDED IN NEW ORLEANS, Roan drove Melicent and Parker straight to their hotel, the Westin on Canal Place. He chose it because it was near the warehouse and also the hotel had a mall next door. Parker and Melicent had no clothes and would need to buy the bare necessities while they were there.

  Melicent was adamant on paying for the hotel room and got Parker and herself two rooms that connected. Roan made note of their room numbers so he could order flowers to be delivered to them as a precaution.

  “I’m going up,” Parker said, subdued, and took his room key from his sister. “Thanks for helping us,” he added to Roan, and then turned to Melicent without meeting her eyes. “See you later. I’m going to sleep.”

  With a troubled look Melicent watched her brother leave and then she turned to Roan with a sigh.

  “He’ll come around.” Roan had felt firsthand how much Parker loved his sister. Whatever misunderstandings stood between them wouldn’t last long.

  “I still can’t believe he was
going to run away.”

  “He’s a complicated kid” was all he could say. “Give him time. You’ve both been through a lot. Why don’t you go get some rest?” he suggested. “I’ll come back late this afternoon.”

  “You’re coming back?” she asked in surprise.

  He searched her eyes. “You didn’t expect me to just drop you off at a hotel and not come back?” Her cheeks became flushed and he added, “I want you to meet Holly, my business partner. She’s going to look after you while I’m gone.” He watched her face fall in disappointment. She had no idea how expressive she was.

  “Where are you going?”

  “London—tomorrow. Only for a few days.”

  “To look for your friend?” She crossed her arms with a thoughtful frown.

  “The sooner I find out what happened to him, the sooner you two are safe.” He took a step back to leave.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his hand. “Thank you. For bringing us here. For everything.”

  He could feel the warmth of her hand through his gloves. He raised her hand and kissed it—something he’d never done to anyone before—and walked away.

  * * *

  When Roan got home he took a long steaming shower. He should have gone straight to bed to catch a few hours of sleep. Instead he came back downstairs and sat on the sofa, staring at the Trove gift bags.

  He needed to return them to Melicent. The sooner the temptation to touch her artwork was gone the better—because now he wanted to read the imprints more than ever. She was becoming an obsession. He wanted to know her.

  Maybe he would ask if he could keep one globe—the one he’d already handled. The others he would give back, upholding his promise not to touch them. But the snow globe with the rock garden he’d already held. So if he touched it again now, he wouldn’t be breaking his word. There was nothing else to see. He’d already read all the imprints.

  Before he could second-guess what he was doing, he reached in, took the snow globe out of the box, and leaned back on the couch. He rested the globe on his chest and closed his eyes. The weight of the rock rose and fell with each breath as he held it in his hands.