by Holly Hook
On the Wilhelm Gustloff.
It's Isabel's father, the sadistic Nazi.
Chapter Eight
My heart about stops.
The Nazi murderer is standing here in Nancy's place, directing things in the kitchen like it's no big deal. How did he get here? Why? What is he doing with these foster kids? I don't get it. I turn to Isabel, but she's shrinking away from us.
“What?” I manage. It's so gross, so disgusting to see him here instead of Nancy. It's so wrong. The last I saw this guy, he was in World War Two Germany and we were diving through the restaurant rift as he opened the bathroom door. It doesn't make any sense for him to have wound up here. I know none of the Timeless would have put him in Nancy's house. They like to take people back to their original times, not help them take grand tours of others.
There's only one explanation, then.
“Isabel,” I ask. “How did this happen?”
She swallows.
I turn back to the kitchen. Isabel's father is at the sink, inspecting it. He pulls out one dish and holds it up, facing Monica and her foster brother. His mouth moves and he stiffens, gesticulating with the dish. He's yelling. I can believe that. Monica shrinks back into the fridge and the boy moves to stand in front of her. I wonder if he's going to lift a fist.
“Monica, run,” I beg through the glass. “Get out of here.”
But she doesn't. Instead, she flattens herself against the fridge and doesn't dare look away. It's like she's taken many, many of these verbal thrashings before and she's just waiting for it to be over. It's horrible to watch. Isabel's father is being such a jerk to these kids. Maybe he thinks they're subhuman or something. I wouldn't put it past him.
Then he does raise a fist.
The boy moves closer to Monica and faces him down. He lifts both hands as he speaks like he's trying to calm Isabel's father. The two talk for another minute, and then Isabel's father jabs a finger at the kids, turns, and walks away.
Monica stays there, catching her breath. The boy moves over and wraps his arm around her, pulling her into a hug. I'm glad to see that. At least Monica's entire world hasn't shattered. At least she has someone.
Nancy would never allow this. Ever.
I turn away from the window. I'm furious. I grab Isabel by the arm and pull her back towards the street. She doesn't resist. It's as if she's waiting for her punishment. We get over to the tree line and I face her. Simon follows. He has no words. Isabel's face is a pale oval in the darkness and the streetlight barely illuminates her.
“I need answers,” I say. “Something got messed up, and you knew about it. Please. I don't want to be mad about this. But we're supposed to be friends and we're not supposed to hide things like this from each other.” I grit my teeth and let go of her. If we didn't depend on each other for survival, I would murder her right here. My pulse hammers under my skin. Isabel should have told us about this right when we got our memories back. This is important. This is Monica and Nancy.
What happened to Nancy?
This is her house. She should be here.
“I couldn't do it,” Isabel manages, backing towards the trees. “I couldn't. I know I should have.” She's close to tears.
I can't help but feel bad for her--a little. “Do what?” I ask.
“Yes,” Simon adds. “What? Did you run into your father in the Hub or something? He must have gone through the rift in the restaurant bathroom if he wound up here in Nancy's time.”
“I did,” she says. “Let me explain. I know I messed things up very badly. I was going to come back here and fix it after I saved the two of you." Isabel takes a breath. “Right after the Chronophages...right after the Chronophages ate the Timeless versions of yourselves, I ran for the 1912 rift to get you guys back. But before I got there, my father stopped me in one of the corridors. I couldn't get past him. He wrapped me in a hug. He did see us vanish in the bathroom and then he came through the rift after us.”
“Huh?” Now I'm more confused than anything. “What?”
“That rift shouldn't have lasted too long,” Simon says. “We opened it. It should have lasted just long enough for us to go through.”
“With two of you opening it, it must have lasted a few minutes. Long enough for him to search the bathroom and stand in it by mistake,” she says. “I'm surprised the waiter in that restaurant didn't come through, too. He could have. That would have been an even bigger mess.”
"So what happened after that?" I ask. I don't stand too close to Isabel in case I want to shove her back or something. I have to let her tell her story. That's what I keep repeating to that rage burning through me. I have to let her get it out.
“I was trapped in his hug,” Isabel explains. She glances at the house and back again. The kitchen light's still on. I wonder if Monica and that boy are still cooking and cleaning for that guy. I wonder if they're even muttering amongst themselves about what a Nazi he is, not realizing how right they are.
“So?” I prompt.
Isabel's chin wobbles. “I was going to stab him. With Arnelia's hair clip,” she says. “It was sharp enough. And then, I tried to stab him. But the wing wouldn't go through his skin. I didn't know that Arnelia had designed her clip so it couldn't hurt mortals. Instead, my faster just looked at me in this way I will never forget. He knew what I tried to do. He asked me why I wanted to kill him and he sounded so hurt. I didn't know what else to do, so I led him to the only rift I could think of that was safe. I brought him here, to Trenton, and broke into a clothing store and made him change out of his uniform. There was no way I could try to kill him again.”
“Why Trenton?” I ask. I stretch my mind, trying to understand.
Isabel holds her hands up. “I don't know why I chose Trenton. I had hoped to leave him here where he'd never come near my family ever again. He doesn't remember who he is. Time wiped his memory when he came here. You have to understand that. As far as my father knows, he's only a man whose first memory is of waking up in the back of a retail store. If I remember right, I brought him through a Trenton rift that appeared in this town three or four years ago."
“He's been here for a few years?” Simon explodes. “How much damage has he done?”
“It looks like he remembers the fact that he's a jerk,” I say. The anger's rising up again and I sense a fight unless we resolve this, and now. "Was he ever like that to you and your sister?"
"Not always," Isabel says. "I took him to the homeless shelter in town after I'd gotten him some new clothes. I thought he would just blend into life here, learn English, and lead a normal life like everyone else. I even used a couple of later Trenton rifts to check on him, to make sure he hadn't done anything terrible to anyone. He behaved and learned your language. He got a job as a security guard at the mall. But right after he got his job, he wound up meeting Nancy who was volunteering at his shelter. The two of them started dating and he moved in with her.”
Now I'm ready to explode. “That...that Nazi dated my foster mother?”
"I didn't know that would happen!" Isabel holds up her hands. "I tried to stop it. I knew you didn't want that. I tried to break them up. I even tried to make it look like he'd had an affair with another woman, but none of it worked. But he never caused any trouble like this. He wasn't cruel to the foster kids. I don't know why that's changed now. I know this is a disaster and you are right if you hate me. I just wanted to throw him somewhere where he would never hurt anyone again.”
“It looks like he's hurting my sister,” I say. “My sister. Thanks, Isabel. I thought we were friends.”
“We are. I swear, I did not plan any of this.”
“You didn't have to bring him to Trenton.” I know she saved my life and all, but I can't forgive this. Isabel could have shoved her father into any random rift.
“The Trenton rift was the closest one that I knew,” she says. “I had to get him away from me. He...he was going to hurt me if I didn't act quickly. I didn't want to take the chance of putting
him somewhere where he could say, get a hold of the technology in Arnelia's world or something.”
My anger begins to cool.
Her father actually wanted to hurt her?
“Oh,” I say. “Why didn't you say so?”
“Julia.” Simon puts his hand on my shoulder lead leads me into the trees, out of Isabel's earshot. “Think for a minute. What would you have done, if you found out your father did something horrible? Would you have stabbed him? Would you have been able to? And if you had, would you be able to face him after that?”
“I don't know.” My father's not a killer, at least.
“Think about it. Would you have been able to stab him?”
“No. I'd never do that.”
“Even if you found out he murdered innocent kids? I'm sure Isabel's father did murder children.”
“Well, I'd never speak to him again, that's for sure. And my father would never do something like that. The jerk in my family is my mother, leaving me behind to do all her chores and take care of poor Melvin.”
“My point is, it wasn't easy for Isabel to stand there and try to stab the man who gave her life. After she failed, she had to do what she had to do.”
I think about her words. A twig snaps as she shifts. I can't imagine what she's been going through. But Monica is miserable because of Isabel's decision. Who knows what else is happening to her in that house? And why on earth would Nancy date this man?
“The point is, what else did Isabel have to do?” Simon eyes me hard and his eyes are wide.
“So you're siding with Isabel?”
“Right now, I am. We can always fix this. All we have to do is lead him back to another rift and shove him back in his own time. It'll have to be us, since the Timeless haven't been doing their jobs if he's been here for a few years. The rift at the Branch should still be working. It took forever to dissipate last time we were here, if I remember right. And there's always that one by the football field that's supposed to open if we miss that one.”
“But what about Monica? Nancy? Why would she even date that guy? She'd never let him treat their foster kids like that.”
“I don't know. It's my guess that Nancy has a soft spot for people who have amnesia. It's the reason I left you here, after all.”
“He could have.” Nancy must have no clue what's really under her roof. Heck, even Isabel's father has no clue and Isabel didn't find out what a monster he truly was until after she became Timeless. It's not like she led him right to Nancy's doorstep, after all.
“We need to talk to Monica,” I say to both Simon and Isabel. “Isabel—I'm sorry.”
“No. I am.” She stands far away from us, back by the road. “I should have told you about this.”
We have things to do. We'll talk about our communication skills later. “We have to get in there and talk to Monica somehow. Either that, or we need to wait for morning for her to come out and pray tomorrow's a school day.”
“It has to be tonight.” Simon grabs my arms and stares at me. He's all serious, terrified. “We need to act before that rift in the Branch closes again. The one by the football field won't open for another week or so. And if we miss that one, we might never find a way out of here until some member of the Timeless comes to get us. That could end up being a very long time from now, if at all since Time's still sick. It's probably even more sick now. Whatever we changed in history must be making it pretty much vomit.” He sounds glad. I don't blame him. Time's done so many horrible things to us that it's sickening in itself.
The front door to Nancy's house opens.
I turn.
Monica's stepping out. She's hauling a trash bag, just like she used to when things were normal here. Well, as normal as they could be. The look on her face breaks my heart. It's a look of no hope, of no future. It's the look of someone just getting through another day. What did Isabel's father say to her and the boy?
I have to go talk to her. I glance down at my dress again and try to think of an excuse. None comes. I'm going to have a wing it, like the people in this time always say.
“Excuse me,” I say, emerging from the trees.
Monica faces me and drops the trash bag on the sidewalk. “Huh?”
“My name is Julia,” I say. Should I put that butterfly on her head and break the entire truth to her right now? She's never going to believe that I, or her new foster dad, are people from another time. “I've heard of you. Are you the one who lives in the foster house here with Nancy and some other guy?” I try to keep my voice high and friendly.
Monica looks at me, all confused. “I do live in a foster house, yes.” She sounds suspicious, like I'm just here to make fun of her. “Are you with Wendy and her gang? The East Side is really getting on my nerves lately.”
“No. No. Not with her. I don't even like her. Or Heather, for that matter.”
Now she's even more confused. She brushes her long, dark curly hair back. “How do you know about Wendy and Heather? I've never seen you around my school.” She studies me. “Are you dressed for a play or something?”
“Yes,” I say. I can near Simon muttering something to Isabel behind me. They're staying back and letting me handle this. My mind spins. “I'm looking for someone named Nancy. I wanted to ask her about some history about ships. I heard she's really an expert on them, and in our play, we have a ship from the eighteen hundreds.”
I wait. My heart pounds. Monica relaxes a little. I might avoid looking stupid after all. “I don't know anyone named Nancy,” she says at last. “I just live here with my foster brother Daniel and my foster dad. Unfortunately. Not about Daniel. My foster dad. I don't think he knows much about ships.”
“You must know someone by her name,” I insist. “I heard someone mention that you lived with her. Or did she move away and leave you here with this jerk?” Nancy wouldn't have abandoned either of her foster kids. She's not like that. She's nothing like my biological mother back home, which is why I love her so much.
Monica takes a step like she wants to run back inside, but stops. “Who's telling you all this about me?” she asks. “How do you know my foster dad's a jerk?”
“Well, you said it was unfortunate that you lived with him.” I can't have her running away on me.
“Good point.” She lets out a breath. “I've never lived with anyone by the name of Nancy. I've only been here for a year and half. Are you sure you have the right house?”
“I'm sure.” My insides tie in a knot. Did we do something terrible by saving the Titanic? What would Nancy have to do with that? Monica's and Nancy's lives were already changed by Isabel bringing her father here. Us saving our ship must have changed it even more. “Nancy has to live somewhere in this town. She must.”
“I don't know who you are,” Monica says. “I have to get going. Maybe you can go the library and look up what you need. There's a really good one up in town that might help. I think they might have closed for the night, but you can always hop on the Internet, too. I'm assuming you know how to use it?” I can tell it's a joke and that she wants to get away from me. I'm making her uncomfortable.
And she turns away, stalking back towards the house where her crappy life waits.
“Monica!”
She stops. Turns.
“How do you know my name?”
“I know you. We're friends. Or we were, before I changed history,” I say. Nothing other than the truth is going to convince her to listen to me. I need her help figuring out what happened to Nancy. “Believe me. If I have to, I can prove that I know you. It's a long story.”
“Okay. You're freaking me out,” Monica says, holding a hand up at me. She heads to the door again, to where another shadow moves past the window. Is Daniel looking out, making sure we're not harassing her? What is he thinking, seeing us in these clothes?
“Use the clip,” Simon says from behind me.
If I do that, she'll scream and foster dad might come out here. I don't want to deal with him. I have to stop her and I ha
te what I'm about to say. “I know what your father did to you, and why you're here,” I say.
Monica stops for a second time, hand on the doorknob. She faces the door for several seconds, exhaling slowly.
“You what?”
“Before we changed history, I was your foster sister. We confided in each other. You told me things that you told no one else.” I lower my voice so Simon and Isabel don't hear. “I know what your biological dad did to you. Why you had to go into foster care. I'm the only person you ever told outside of the foster system or whatever. I know that he did...sexual things to you.”
She whirls around. Her fists are balled. “That never happened. I don't know what you're talking about or who could have told you that.”
“You told me that,” I say. “And I kept my promise. I never told a soul about it.”
Monica relaxes her hands and they hang by her side.
“I don't mean to bring it up, but I had to make you believe me,” I say. “I used to live in this house. It was you, me, and Nancy. She was awesome and treated us like her own daughters. We used to do movie nights and we used to go to the Branch together. Your boyfriend, Trey, is really bad at that dancing game there. There's a crack in your bathroom that's shaped like a palm tree. You like to stay up late and listen to alternative while you do your homework. I know you, Monica, and I know that this right now is not what your life is supposed to be. Your foster father shouldn't even be here. I've changed the past and I screwed something up, and I need help to put it back the way it should be. I need your help in figuring out what went wrong. Please, Monica.”
She says nothing. Her chin quivers.
I've gotten through to her.
“Please. I hated to bring that up.”
She wipes a tear from her eye. “You really do know me,” she says. “I don't understand. You look like you're from hundred years ago. My life sucks, and deep down, I know what it shouldn't be this way. Tell me what you have to say. Be quick, because my inner skeptic is screaming at me big time.” She's just saying this to keep herself from crying. I can hear it there in her words, between the pauses and deep in the punctuation. Monica's furious and frightened at the same time.
