Biding Time- the Chestnut Covin

by E W Barnes

  Sharon’s mind raced. Was it Lloyd? Could it be her grandfather again, or even her grandmother? Or was it the owner of the house? Awakened by her movements, were they wondering what this woman was doing with their painting in the dining room?

  It was the painting that brought her thoughts back to clarity. The painting was the anachronism. It had not changed or disappeared back to when it should have when she restored the timeline. It had a temporal amplifier built into it. Whoever owned this house, this painting, was a person out of time. Whether they were friend or foe, she no longer wanted to know or cared. All she wanted was to leave now. It was time to go home.

  She pushed the button and all around her appeared to speed up. The moonlight shimmered blue and danced. As the room disappeared, she heard a voice whispering, speaking to her.

  “We will meet again, Sharon.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sharon moaned in fear and relief as the library materialized around her. The sun was shining and illuminating the warm and familiar room. She dropped to her knees next to the open bookcase, her hands holding the sides for support, not knowing whether to cry or laugh.

  It was the desire to see Caelen that brought her around. He was not in the library. She looked in the kitchen, the bathroom, and then the rest of the house looking for him, but he was not there. And the house was different. It was full of furniture, her grandparents’ furniture, as if they were still living there.

  I must have programmed the wrong date, she thought as she hurried back into the library to check the control panel. The control panel showed the exact date she had programmed - it was the morning of the day of the earthquake in her timeline.

  “Hello Sharon. Welcome back.”

  Mrs. Bower was standing in the library, smiling at her.

  “I can see you need a temporal update after that last shift, yes?”

  Bewildered, Sharon nodded.

  “What is the last thing you remember from this time frame?”

  “Uh, Caelen was here. We were here in the house, hiding out from Kevin after he attacked me in my apartment… trying to fix the errors in the timeline.”

  “You have successfully corrected the temporal errors. You are no longer hiding out here or living in your apartment. You live here now.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. When your grandparents passed away, they left the house to you in their will. You moved in a few weeks ago.”

  “What about this timeline? Is it the right one? What about my brother? My sister and Olive? Are they ok?”

  “Your brother and his family are driving across country to his new job. I believe today they will visit the Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona. Your sister is 40 weeks pregnant and cranky. Olive is full term and healthy and will be born in three days. Mother and daughter will be fine.”

  “What about Caelen? Where is he?”

  “Now that you have corrected the errors in the timeline, Agent Winters is no longer in this time frame.”

  “You mean he’s in the future?”

  “I am not privy to Agent Winter’s current temporal assignment.”

  Sharon looked around the room, expecting to see Caelen standing there, or walking in the doorway despite Mrs. Bower’s assertion he wasn't there. Her eyes stopped on the worn leather couch across from the bookcases. She had always loved that couch, how soft it was, how it enveloped her when she got lost in a book. Now she sank into its familiar softness, comforted by all the items in a room that had been bare for too long.

  “Will I ever see him again?” She had posed the question to herself, and Mrs. Bower answered.

  “That is likely. Do you have any further questions for the temporal update before we move on to your agenda?”

  “My agenda…?”

  “The TPC has requested a meeting, a routine debrief of your shifts to correct the errors in the timeline.”

  “Do I still work at the coffee shop in this timeline?”

  “Yes, but you have taken a leave of absence while you managed all the paperwork for your grandparents’ estate.”

  “So, I have time to meet with the TPC.”

  “Yes. It is a routine debrief. It won’t take more than two hours, I would guess.”

  “When is this debrief?”

  “It is scheduled for 10:00 a.m. Friday, October 16, 2204 at TPC headquarters.”

  “October 16, 2204? Almost 200 years in the future. That’s a long wait to debrief, isn’t it?

  Mrs. Bower smiled.

  “You are the keeper of a time machine. The meeting can be as sooner or as later as you want it to be.”

  ◆◆◆

  Sharon opted for later and, after asking Mrs. Bower to confirm with the TPC that she would attend the debrief in 2204, she allowed herself the time to settle into this new reality. Most of all, she wanted to be in the present when her sister delivered Olive.

  After she experienced the earthquake for the third time, turned off the gas to the house, and helped others in the neighborhood, she focused on settling into her new life.

  It surprised her how content she was to be living in her grandparents’ home again. Instead of aching for their loss, each time she crossed into a new room and saw their furniture or the familiar play of light coming in the windows, she knew all was peaceful and well.

  Sometimes there were things that would jar her, reminding her she was in a different timeline. As time passed the noticeable differences were fewer and fewer. This timeline had become home.

  She discovered that she had ordered new bedroom furniture and now slept in the master bedroom with its window opening to the back garden. In the morning she would fix breakfast in the kitchen and eat at the table in the dining room while reading or listening to music. The only thing that was missing was a Tiffany-style lampshade, she thought.

  The dining room was the only source of disquiet. The memory of the dark figure she had seen in the corner in 1933 haunted her. Once or twice she had thought she saw a shadow in the corner of her eye, but when she turned her head to look there was nothing there. Finally, she moved a floor lamp to the corner and left it on every night, just to be sure.

  She also missed Caelen. She trusted Mrs. Bower’s assertion that she would see Caelen again, and sometimes she wanted to make the shift to the future immediately just so she could see him sooner. She was more than ready when her phone rang at 3:00 a.m. few days later.

  “Hey Pete. Let me guess - Holly is ready for the big reveal.”

  “You got it! She’s gone into labor and we’re in the hospital.”

  “I am on my way. I will see you guys, soon.”

  “Holly, Sharon says she’s on her way.”

  “If she really loves me, she’ll bring ice cream… and coffee… and maybe coffee ice cream…” Holly shouted as Pete ended the call.

  ◆◆◆

  Sharon arrived at the hospital 30 minutes later, without coffee or ice cream. Holly did not notice.

  “How’s it going?” Sharon asked. Holly was taking deep breaths as Pete answered.

  “It’s going fast,” he said. “She’s dilated to eight centimeters already, and they put her on an epidural to make her more comfortable.”

  “Have you told Scott and his family yet?”

  “Scott and his family are in Albuquerque. We’ll call in a few hours. No need to wake them now.”

  Sharon settled herself in a chair next to the bed and she and Holly conversed through the regular contractions and breathing. Holly’s doctor checked on her progress, saying “We’re getting there” and “Everything looks good.”

  Just before 6:00 a.m. Pete, who had taken a walk to stretch his legs, stuck his head in.

  “Are you decent? Your parents are here.”

  Holly laughed and nodded, and Sharon got up from the chair and took several steps back. Their parents were here? That her father would come might make sense if there was someone to watch her mother; but to move her mother at all, let alone at 6:00 a.m. for an event s
he would not understand made no sense.

  Her father came into the room first, looking healthier and more rested than she had seen him in years. When her mother followed him in, Sharon could not take her eyes from her.

  She leaned over Holly, kissing her on the forehead.

  “How are you doing, sweetheart?” Holly smiled as if this kind of interaction happened every day, instead of

  her mom not seeing her or asking if she were Napoleon.

  Her mother hugged Pete. “Are you doing ok, too?”

  “Oh yeah, never better,” he said as Holly squeezed his hand white again.

  Then her mother looked at Sharon. “Hello sweetheart,” she said as she moved toward her, arms outstretched to hug her. Sharon fell into the hug numbly. It differed greatly from the last hug she’d gotten from her mother.

  “Are you ok? Not worried about your sister, are you? Don’t worry, everything will be ok.”

  “Mom…” was all Sharon could croak out before the tears started.

  “Oh honey, it’s ok.” Her mother wrapped her in her arms and Sharon sobbed on her shoulder. With Holly, Pete and her father looking confused, Sharon let them believe she had been worried about Holly, and she allowed her mother to comfort her, something she hadn’t experienced since childhood.

  Her mother guided her over to a window as a nurse came in for a routine check. Her father and Pete stood next to them, pretending not to hear as her mother reassured her, a loving arm wrapped around her waist, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder.

  There was a whoop from across the room.

  “Full dilation! Let’s get pushing!” Holly was shouting exultantly.

  ◆◆◆

  It seemed only moments later that the doctor lifted her niece into the light, squalling at the cold and brightness. Her parents looked proud. Pete looked amazed. A nurse laid the baby on Holly’s chest and she kissed her daughter’s head and closed her eyes, peace on her face. Pete looked at Sharon with stars in his eyes.

  “Call your brother for us, will you?”

  Sharon made the call, her eyes moving from her mother to her healthy niece, and back again. Her brother’s voice was strong and excited, sharing his laughter and warm congratulations as she held the phone to Holly’s ear, and then to Olive’s.

  Sharon stayed at the hospital until her parents left, following them out and hugging them both again and again. She did not want it to end for fear it was all a dream.

  “Mrs. Bower!” Sharon slammed the door, coming straight into the library before even putting her keys down.

  “Hello Sharon.”

  “What happened to my mother? In this time frame, she is no longer sick?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “What happened? How was she cured? I thought the dementia was genetic and irreversible.”

  “She did not have dementia.”

  “What do you mean? The doctors said it was dementia. She was in special care for years with it, for my entire adolescence.”

  “It was not dementia; it was temporal aberration disorder.”

  “What, like your friend Richard had?”

  Several emotions crossed Mrs. Bower’s face, including sadness and anger, even guilt.

  “Yes, like Richard.”

  “I thought temporal aberration disorder came from misuse of the temporal amplifier. How could she have done that? Did she even know about it?”

  “We are not sure how it happened, Sharon, though we don’t think she knew about the temporal amplifier. We think someone tried to use the temporal amplifier and your mother came into the library unexpectedly. Whoever was trying to use it mis-programmed it in their surprise. They escaped, but it injured her.”

  “When I corrected the errors in the timeline, it cured mom’s temporal aberration disorder, too.”

  “We think so. Since we are not sure who was trying to program the temporal amplifier, we can’t be sure. It might have been Kevin. It might have been Lloyd. It might have been someone else. Regardless, your actions prevented her injury.”

  Sharon walked around the library.

  “Did I grow up here like before?”

  Mrs. Bower smiled. “Oh yes. Instead of taking refuge from the pain of your mother’s condition, you were here because you wanted to be.”

  The image of the dark figure in the dining room came unbidden to her mind. There were still unanswered questions.

  “Who owned this house before my grandparents?”

  “Before you corrected the errors in the timeline, a Mr. George Parker owned the house from whom your grandparents rented for several years before they bought the home. After you corrected the timeline however, ownership information was no longer available to this Temporal Amplifier Holographic Interface and Security Program.”

  “Either that information was lost; the database is malfunctioning; or someone erased the data,” Sharon said.

  Mrs. Bower didn’t answer.

  “I think I am ready for that debrief, Mrs. Bower. Please do whatever you need to do to prepare for a temporal shift tomorrow morning. I’m ready to visit 2204.”

  ◆◆◆

  After a restless night, half spent in excitement about a new adventure, half nervous about traveling to a time and place about which she knew nothing, Sharon got out of bed at dawn and took her time getting ready. She wasn’t sure if her deliberate pace was because she wanted to make the best impression or because she was stalling.

  There was nothing else to do to get ready. She presented herself to Mrs. Bower, patiently waiting for her in the library.

  “I programmed the control panel for you. Are you ready?”

  Sharon hoisted her laptop bag with a yellow pad and an ample supply of pens over her shoulder. She stood in front of the control panel, confirming the coordinates were correct, and exhaled.

  “Yes, I am ready.”

  She pushed the button, and the room seemed to speed up around her. The warm golds and browns of the library dissolved into crisp whites and blues.

  She was standing in a large space with gleaming white floors, white walls with large windows, and a glass ceiling open to a clear blue sky. She could see greenery both inside and outside the building. There was the tinkle of water from a nearby fountain. People were moving around the area, and her sudden appearance surprised no one. She had shifted into the center of an atrium of a large building, and she could see generous corridors leading away from the central area.

  “Ms. Gorse?”

  The speaker was a young woman with what could have been a clipboard tucked against her side. Sharon nodded, and the young woman held out her hand.

  “Welcome to the Temporal Protection Corps headquarters. I am your on-site liaison, Agent Miranda Noon. I will assist you while you are here. Anything you need, just ask.”

  Sharon tried not to stare. Miranda’s silver hair contrasted with her rich dark complexion, and her eyes seemed to glitter, changing colors depending on what direction she looked.

  “I guess all I need is to know where to go for the debrief.”

  Miranda nodded. “Right this way.”

  She led Sharon down a broad corridor with high windows that paralleled the front of the building. To her right through the windows she could see no other buildings, just what looked like a beautifully lush and landscaped park. There were people walking along paths going toward and away from the building, some walking parallel to Miranda and Sharon outside the building, and several were moving in both directions in the corridor. There was a pleasant sense of energy that Sharon found invigorating.

  It was not what she imagined the future to look like - it was so ordinary.

  “As you can see, the 23rd century is not much different from the 21st,” Miranda said, as if reading her mind.

  They walked to the end of the corridor and then turned left into another corridor that was the same as the first except that it had doors on the right instead of windows. The first door was open, and Miranda gestured to Sharon that she sh
ould enter.

  Windows like those that had flowed along the first corridor made up one wall of the room, with tables against the opposite wall, and comfortable chairs arranged in a semi-circle in the room's middle. Someone placed the chairs to allow attendees to clear views of audio-visual technology arrayed on another wall. There were several people already in the room, most of whom she did not know, and one she did.

  Caelen beamed as she walked in, holding his hand out in greeting and then taking hers in both of his. She felt her heart beating faster as he guided her to a seat facing the windows and went to get coffee. Miranda sat in the seat to her right, and soon Caelen sat on her left, coffee in hand.

  “It's good to see you,” he said, handing her a beautiful blue cup that matched the color of the sky.

  “You too,” she said, leaning toward him. There was so much she wanted to say - how much she missed him, how sorry she was to have left him behind when she shifted to 1933, how glad she was to see him again. But before she could voice any of these thoughts, he leaned close and murmured in her ear.

  “I know that we worked together to correct errors in the 20th century, but I no longer have memories from that timeline. I'm looking forward to hearing how we did.”

  Sharon’s heart dropped and then another voice spoke.

  “Thank you all for being here this morning. Let’s get started.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  A tall, elegant woman in the chair at the top of the semi-circle called the meeting to order, but Sharon didn’t hear what she was saying over the roaring in her ears. Everyone was watching the tall woman, and it took several deep breaths before Sharon could hear her words.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Miranda whispered. “Debriefs are easy, and we’re all here to support you.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sharon saw Caelen nodding in agreement with Miranda’s encouragement. Sharon couldn’t look at him.

  “I am Ferhana Veta, Director of the Temporal Protection Corps. With us are Assistant Director Yorga Zintel, and Chausiku MacGregor, head of Temporal Security, 20th Century expert Jonas Fernley, and you’ve met your liaison Agent Miranda Noon and Agent Winters.”