He smiled. “You would have. Little Matthew here was determined to come into this world, and I don’t think he was too particular where that event took place.”
Suzanne smiled back, realizing he was uncomfortable being complimented. “So why wouldn’t they take your money?” she asked to change the subject.
Shrugging as he stared down to Matthew, he answered, “The woman said it wasn’t real. I mean it’s gold. How more real can you get?”
“Gold? You carry gold on you?” she asked, noticing that Charles looked very natural holding her tiny son in his arms. Even though it certainly wasn’t the time or place, she had to admit that dry and cleaned up, Charles Garitty was one handsome man. His auburn hair was pushed back off his tanned face and the green of the hospital shirt brought out that extraordinary color in his eyes. He looked very… masculine, much more handsome than Kevin… and when she realized her thoughts she quickly shook them out of her head as she concentrated on his words. Really! What was wrong with her? She’d just had a baby, for crying out loud!
“I have some paper money, but she wouldn’t accept that either.”
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck rose again in warning, but the words tripped off her tongue anyway. “Can I see it?” she asked, holding out her arms for her son.
Charles deposited Matty back into her arms and then reached into his pockets. Suzanne snuggled her child to her chest and then pressed the button to raise the bed so she could sit up more.
Looking at the bed, Charles’s jaw dropped. “How does that happen? There’s no crank, or anything.”
“You act as though you’ve never been in a hospital before.”
“Well, I have. But not one like this. This place is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. It’s just one more confirmation,” his voice trailed off. “Here…”
Suzanne looked at his palm and saw several thick gold coins. She picked up one and stared at it.
“It’s a perfectly legit Indian Head gold piece,” Charles declared.
Suzanne read the date. 1922. Her head started pounding, and her heartbeat raced. “May I see more?”
“Sure.” He placed another gold coin in her hand, displaying the head of Lady Liberty surrounded by a cluster of thirteen stars. It was dated 1901. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen before. “What is this one worth?” she asked, afraid of his answer.
“Ten dollars. I couldn’t understand that store lady’s reaction. In fact, I was the one who was shocked. Why, a small bouquet of flowers cost twenty-four dollars! You know, that’s nearly the price of a whole acre of flowers!”
“And you said you had paper money,” she whispered, ignoring his last statement.
He reached into his pocket and brought out a few bills and handed them to her. At first glance they looked normal, until she realized there was red ink on them. One stated Series of 1917 and the other 1923. The earlier one even had a Federal Reserve Note printed on it. When she turned them over, the bills were totally unrecognizable as modern currency. “Charles, where on earth did you get these?”
“Get them?” He again shrugged, as though her question didn’t make sense. “I got them doing business… legal transactions. Like anyone gets money. There’s nothing wrong with them.”
“But modern money doesn’t look like this. There are no five and ten dollar coins in gold now. And the paper money is completely different.” Matthew started squirming, and Suzanne handed the currency back. “Charles, what’s going on?”
Shoving everything back into his pants pocket, his expression became serious. “Well, I was hoping you might be able to tell me, Suzanne,” he said as he sat in a chair by the bed. “Because I really need to know… about what’s been happening here.”
She nodded, while praying for some semblance of sanity, for what was going through her head was crazy. “Well, I’ll try. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He took a deep breath and she could see that he was trying to keep it together. Unconsciously, she held her son tighter to her body. She didn’t know if she was protecting the baby, or Matty was grounding her, for suddenly, something, some deep instinct, was telling her that she wasn’t going to like what followed.
“First of all, I don’t think you hit me with your ring.”
“You don’t? How… I mean your head was bleeding and—”
He held up his hand to stop her words. “I was shot.”
“What? By whom? Why?”
Before he could answer, the door was opened and a young nurse came into the room. “It’s time to return the baby to the nursery.”
Ordinarily, Suzanne might have fought for more time with her son, but considering the current conversation she gladly handed over the baby. Somehow she knew this man was decent and honorable. He was no criminal, for he’d certainly had more than enough time and opportunity to take advantage of her if he’d wanted. Waiting until the door was closed again, she turned to the man sitting in the chair and saw the exhaustion on his face. “Charles, you can tell me. Are you in some kind of trouble? Why was someone shooting at you?”
He told his story about the property he had just registered with the land office, about how he and Mitch had been walking home, discussing their partnership, and about how, on the bridge over the creek, his best friend had tried to kill him.
“Charles, that’s not a toughie,” Suzanne said. “Go to the police. What your friend Mitch did is a serious crime. Just have him arrested.”
Sighing deeply, Charles closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he stared at her and whispered, “I wish it were that easy. You see, something’s happened to me, Suzanne. I know you’re not going to believe me when I tell you this, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but I’ve had time to think about it, and it’s all I can figure.”
“What is it?” Staring into his green eyes, she clutched the metal railing of the bed and waited for his answer.
“I’m not from this time.”
“What do you mean, from this time?”
Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees, ran his fingers through his hair, and when he looked up his gaze was intense. “I knew my only hope of escape was to jump from that bridge and pray I didn’t break my neck. When I was falling, all I could see was the sunlight reflecting off the water. It blinded me. I don’t know, I felt something… as though something strange passed through my body, and then I… it all went black. The next thing I knew, you were kissing me.”
“I wasn’t kissing you,” she protested again, embarrassed by the thought. “It happens to be a medical technique to blow air into your lungs and—”
“I know, I know.” He held up his hand to placate her. “Suzanne, you’ve got to believe me when I say I’m surrounded by things I’ve never even dreamed of before. Your streets and automobiles. Your machinery here at the hospital. Doors that open by themselves. I don’t recognize anything around me. Everything has changed. All I can guess is that I jumped off a bridge in nineteen twenty-six and landed in the year two thousand one.”
She was rubbing her temples, as if the act might help her understand what he was saying. “Charles, what you’re talking about is impossible,” she said as calmly as she could, though she remembered when she had nearly been blinded by light reflecting off the water too. It was that moment when she had thrown the ring. “People just don’t… leap into.. time travel!”
“Then explain me. Explain my money. Explain to me why I don’t know anything about what’s going on here. I’m not stupid or insane. Suzanne, I know how crazy this sounds, but I’m telling you the truth. This isn’t my time!”
“Okay, just hold on a minute. I’m really trying to absorb all this.” She looked back at his anguished face. On top of everything else she’d gone through this day, she couldn’t believe that she was actually considering what he was saying might be plausible. For her sanity and his, she wanted to convince the poor man that he must have hit his head and probably had amnesia. “Look, Charles—”
r /> “I have no reason to lie to you,” he interrupted in a calmer tone. “And I don’t want anything from you but an ear to listen. Right now, you’re the only person I can talk to about this and I need to talk to someone.” He paused and stared at her, as though requesting her permission to continue. Suzanne simply didn’t know what to say. His frustration was evident to her and she hoped her eyes might relay her sentiment of deep empathy for the man.
Tilting his head with a look of apprehension he began again. “Before you’ve concluded that I’m an absolute madman, let me finish.”
She nodded.
“Okay, I’ve rationalized this as much as I can. I’ve considered that I might be having a really vivid dream or hallucinating, but this is all too real. And no dream I’ve ever had lasted this long anyway.” Again he paused, running his fingers through his hair. “I know who I am, I just don’t know where I am. Fine. I may be unfamiliar with my surroundings, but I’m not crazy enough to think I can just walk into the nearest precinct and announce what I’ve just told you. I know they’d lock me up and throw away the key.”
“I’d have to agree with you there, Charlie.” The remark slipped from her lips so quickly, she hoped he wouldn’t think she’d meant it sarcastically.
“Why would anyone make up such an incredible story? Damn it. I’d give anything to walk out of this hospital and find myself back in my own time. I have a life there… waiting for me… land I just bought, a woman I was about to marry, and a debt I have to settle. I don’t belong here. I don’t want to be here.”
For some odd reason hearing him talk about a woman suddenly made her heart tighten, and it really surprised her. She certainly wasn’t about to entertain any romantic notions about him. In fact, she doubted if she could ever feel that way again with anyone after what romance had done to her. She was a mother now and that was all that mattered.
“So, if what you’re saying is true, then what do you plan on doing?” she asked, hardly believing she was buying into his fantastic story.
“That’s just it. I don’t know. But I have to get back there.”
“Back where, Charles?”
“Back to my life. My time. Nineteen twenty-six.”
The silent moment falling between them might as well have been a locomotive crashing through a wall. “I… I just don’t know what to say,” Suzanne mumbled, wishing that her brain would start working to come up with reasonable explanations as to why none of this could be true. She looked into his eyes and saw he was desperately pleading with her to believe him. But to believe in the possibility of time travel was just plain nuts.
She had believed in marriage, in friendship, in honor, and look where that had gotten her. What did she know anymore? Everything was turned upside down. All she really knew was that Charles Garitty had come into her life when she really needed help and he’d stayed by her side—which was more than she could say about those she’d trusted in the past. She knew she was a fairly intelligent woman and although she’d never considered such fantastic ideas as time travel, she couldn’t deny what she felt so deeply inside of her.
As ridiculous as it seemed, she trusted him. After all they’d been through this day, it wouldn’t hurt to show a little more compassion and she didn’t need to dig too far to know she had enough to spare. In fact, she realized their situations were really quite parallel in a way. Right here and now, they both had no one but each other.
“Look, Charles, I don’t think you’re crazy, but I do think you might need some time to rest… you’ve been through a lot. You need time to think about what’s happened and plan what you’re going to do. I know you won’t hurt me or my son. And since I’m kind of alone, I need some help right now so—”
“I would never hurt you, Suzanne. I owe you my life!” he interrupted, appearing shocked by her implication.
“No, no. I didn’t mean that. I believe you. Listen, do you think you could drive to my house, if I gave you directions?”
He stared at her. “Your house?”
Nodding, she continued, “I don’t have my purse and I need some things for tomorrow. And, as I mentioned, earlier today I told my husband to pack his things and get out of our house. He’s probably staying with my… well, someone who used to be my friend, and I really don’t want help from either one of them now. I’m not kidding myself. This isn’t going to be easy for me when I return to an empty house with Matty. If you want, you can stay with me for a few days… at least until you figure out what you’re going to do. There’s plenty of room, that is, if you don’t mind staying with a newborn baby.”
He appeared to be biting the inside corner of his cheek to keep his emotions under control. “I surely appreciate all your kindness, Suzanne,” he whispered.
“I’m glad I can do it,” she replied, feeling that burning at her eyes again. “And don’t get too soft on me now, Charles. I’m holding on by a thread myself. One of us has to be strong.” Impulsively, she extended her hand. “Friends?”
In spite of everything, he slowly grinned and shook her hand. “Friends.”
“Then it’s a deal. We’ll help each other not go crazy while we figure out our lives.”
Still holding her hand, he looked deeply into her eyes and said, “Your husband must be the crazy one, or the biggest fool on the face of this earth. If I may say so without offending you… you’re one hell of a woman, Suzanne McDermott.”
It was too much and the tears spilled over her lids as she felt her facial muscles crumbling into a childish sob. “Thank you,” she managed to spit out in between gulps of air. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that!”
Still holding her hand, he patted hers with his other. “Come on, I didn’t mean to make you cry even more.”
Realizing how pathetic she must appear, Suzanne inhaled deeply, pulled her hand away and wiped at her cheeks. “Don’t mind me. It’s just my whores moaning.”
“Excuse me?”
She couldn’t suppress the near hysterical giggle. “I was trying to make a joke. Hormones, whores moaning?” Feeling even more stupid, she muttered, “Never mind. Don’t ask me to explain body chemistry right now.”
Any remaining tension between them was broken when he smiled knowingly at her and she saw relief in his eyes.
“You’re going to be all right, Suzanne McDermott.”
“You think?” she asked and sniffled the remaining tears. “I’m just so scared.”
“You’re not alone now, lass,” he whispered, still smiling at her with tenderness as he shoved his hands back into his pockets.
Something small cracked inside of her, some wall she had been building, and she started nodding. “Right. I’ve got a friend now.”
“That’s right. We’ll figure this out somehow.”
She didn’t know if he was saying that for her benefit or his. It really didn’t matter any longer. Pulling her act together, she took a deep breath to steady herself and said, “Hey, check in that drawer behind you and see if you can find a paper and a pen. I’ll draw you a map so you can get out of here. Get some rest, Charles. You look exhausted. Just come back tomorrow morning, okay?”
“I’ll be here,” he said, opening the metal drawer of the night table.
She merely smiled. She knew he would. Something deep and instinctive told her Charles Garrity was a man who could be trusted. Refusing to give power to that part of her that said she’d been wrong before, Suzanne took the sheet of paper and the pen and began drawing him a detailed map.
Driving at night was even more harrowing than in the daytime. It had taken him more than fifteen minutes to discover the switch for the headlights, and only after he had found an instruction manual for the fantastic automobile in the glove box. Once on the road, the glaring lights of oncoming cars unnerved him, and he purposefully stayed far to the right, allowing every car also going in his direction to pass him. Amidst honking horns and yells from those who drove by, he did his best to stay calm and follow Suzanne’s directions. Whe
n he finally turned into the long drive in front of the large farmhouse, just as she’d described it, Charles felt his shoulders fall with relief.
He’d made it.
Putting the gearshift into park and pushing the headlight switch in, he turned off the engine with the key at the ignition and closed his eyes. He thought he might just get the hang of this machine, and could begin to enjoy its comforts if he could only relax when he was behind the wheel. No sense in getting comfortable with anything here, he reprimanded himself. There’s nothing like this where you come from, Charles Garrity, and won’t be in your lifetime. His lifetime… right now, he knew he couldn’t engage that thought again.
He heard the rustle of leaves from the grand old tree in the center of the circular drive and felt a soft breeze cross his stubbled face. Allowing his tired head to drop back against the seat rest behind him, he listened as the chirping crickets began their lull. Exhaling deeply, he thought it was quite nice to hear that at least one thing hadn’t changed. He opened his eyes to peer up at the bright, full moon. It still looked the same, even if it was seventy-five years older. Wincing from the stiffness in his neck, he realized there was one other thing that was certain… every muscle in his body felt as if it had aged three-quarters of a century. Yes, he was exhausted and needed to get some rest.
Opening the car door, he stepped out onto shaky legs. He needed to get some food in him too. Making his way across the gray gravel drive, he looked up at the old farmhouse that was silhouetted against the dark velvet sky. From the light of the moon he could see a wide porch with several hanging baskets of flowers. Squinting through the distance, he took a quick survey of the properties beyond the few rows of apple trees in the back of the place. The newer houses surrounding him appeared stark, without any mature landscaping. Just houses on rolling hills. They looked grand, yet cold somehow. Suzanne’s house looked warm and inviting. It looked like a home.
The sound of his heavy bootheels thumped across the porch as he walked to the dark wooden and oval etched-glass door. He fumbled with the key ring in the darkness, until he found the one Suzanne said would let him in. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key and turned the lock. As he eased the thick door open, Charles hesitated for a moment, as though he was somehow invading her privacy, and thought it would have been much better if she was there with him. It was a very odd feeling to walk into someone’s home unescorted. He was grateful for her hospitality, but even with her permission he couldn’t help feeling that he was somehow intruding in Suzanne’s life.
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