Lost In Time

by W M Wiltshire

  “You’re the genius in the family. Everything always came so easily for you. Why don’t you have the answers?” Daric snapped.

  “You know very well I have hypermnesia. That gives me a huge advantage,” Dani countered. “But that doesn’t mean I have all the answers.”

  “Yeah, it must be nice to be able to recall anything that has ever entered that brain of yours. It must have made it a real breeze for majoring in History, Literature, and Physics. Did I forget any? Oh yeah, how many languages can you speak?”

  “Well, considering our present predicament, we should both be grateful. At least I can provide us with some guidance about whatever time period we end up in; to some degree anyway,” Dani replied smugly and with a little satisfaction.

  “Oh my God, you don’t think we’re going to time travel again, do you?” Daric cried out, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic to Dani as it sounded to him.

  “I don’t know, simply because I don’t know what caused us to be here in the first place. I think when we figure that out, we should be able to control how and when we travel,” Dani reasoned.

  “Dani, how are we going to get home?” Daric asked bleakly.

  “I don’t know, but you can be sure Dad will know,” Dani said sympathetically.

  “He doesn’t even know we’re gone or where we are, or when for that matter.” Daric was moving beyond frightened. “We need to figure something out; we have to get home.”

  Dani sat beside her brother, gently grabbing his hands. “Daric, you know Dad will do everything he can to get us home. I think it’s just a matter of time, that’s all.”

  Daric reflected for a minute. He knew his sister was right. Their dad would go to the ends of the earth to bring them home. As Dani said, it was probably just a matter of time.

  Dani could feel Daric calming somewhat. She knew they both needed to accept their situation and that they both had to deal with it as best they could under the circumstances.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Daric said.

  “We have to make the best of our current situation, until Dad can get us home,” Dani said reassuringly. “Until then, we just have to be very careful in how we interact with events as they unfold in this time period. We don’t want to change history, in any way. We don’t know what the repercussions could be.”

  “But wait, what about Amelia? We can’t let her go on her world flight,” Daric exclaimed.

  “We can’t interfere, Daric,” Dani emphasized. “We have to let history play out as it did. And we both know how that ends.”

  “How do we know that our being here hasn’t already altered history?” Daric asked defiantly.

  “We don’t.”

  19: Present Day

  Quinn finished explaining the situation to Sandra, who was staring blindly past him, off into oblivion. It was a lot of unbelievable information Quinn had just dropped on her. He knew he couldn’t bring his children home tonight. He also knew he needed more time to finish his work. And possibly some help, too. He couldn’t accomplish anything more tonight. The kids were fine according to their travel band readouts. Their heart rates were a little elevated, but that was to be expected, under the circumstances. His main concern now was Sandra.

  “Sandra, please, you’re exhausted. There’s nothing more I can do here tonight. Let’s go back to the house,” Quinn pleaded.

  “But . . .” Sandra stammered, pulling herself back from her wanderings and then cutting her objection short. She knew Quinn was right. She reluctantly gave in. Besides, she was emotionally exhausted.

  “Come on, Bear,” Quinn said to the melancholy dog. She had made her way back to where Dani and Daric had vanished; she seemed to be protecting that spot, anxiously awaiting their return.

  “Bear, Dani and Daric aren’t coming home tonight.” Quinn didn’t realize how much that statement had caught in his throat and had stabbed at his heart; not until he spoke it out loud. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Come on, girl, let’s go.”

  Bear looked at Quinn as he helped Sandra to her feet. Then Bear looked at the spot in front of her, contemplating what she should do.

  “Come on, Bear, let’s get you some dinner,” Sandra encouraged. The reference to food made the decision easy for Bear. She got to her feet and led the way out of the lab.

  “Dinner,” Sandra murmured. “It’s ruined by now. But I guess that’s fine, because it seems I’ve lost my appetite.” Then something invaded her thoughts. “I bet the kids are hungry. They’ve had nothing to eat since lunch. I hope they’re okay.”

  Quinn placed his arm around Sandra’s shoulder as they walked across the vast lawn, dotted with a wide variety of trees with buds ready to burst open on the naked branches of winter. In the distance, they heard the haunting call of a loon, echoing across the calm evening water. Sandra wrapped her arm around Quinn’s waist, leaning her head on his shoulder.

  “We’ll get them back,” Quinn tried to assure her. It was a declaration he wasn’t one-hundred percent sure of at the moment, but he didn’t want to upset his wife further.

  “I know,” Sandra murmured. The emotional tension of the day had drained whatever energy she had left. She sniffled and continued. “What if . . .” She stopped her train of thought from going down that track. “It’s just that . . . they’re only children . . .”

  “Sandra, let’s give them some credit,” Quinn cut her off. He didn’t want to know where her thoughts were leading her. “They’re not children anymore. They’re young adults. And they’re both intelligent. You know Dani can talk herself out of any situation and Daric . . .”

  Quinn had to stop and think for a moment. Sandra looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “And Daric can take care of himself,” he said with conviction, and then added, “as long as he thinks before he acts.”

  Reaching the house, Quinn opened the side door and ushered Sandra into the family room, helping her to the soft plush sofa. Quinn walked behind the bar, took down two glasses and poured a generous amount of scotch into each. He added a couple of ice cubes. Returning to the sofa, he handed Sandra her glass and sat down beside her.

  “Quinn, I think we should have stayed at the lab. What if something happens?” Sandra asked uneasily.

  “Sandra, we went over this before we left. We know from their travel bands they are in Los Angeles in 1937 and we know that they’re both safe. Hermes will monitor the travel band signals twenty-four hours a day. If anything comes up, he’ll call me on my comm.” Quinn lifted his wrist to reveal an elaborate watch that could have come straight out of a James Bond movie. The comm was a direct link to his lab. It could project a miniaturized version of Hermes’ hologram and allowed for interactive dialogue and analysis. He could also call up Hermes to get updates on data computations while they ran on his sophisticated computer system. He didn’t have to be in the lab to do his work. All he had to do was instruct Hermes and Hermes would execute the request. This gave Quinn the ability to be in two places at once.

  “I should go clean up the kitchen,” Sandra muttered, as she dragged herself to her feet.

  “I’ll get it,” Quinn said, as he popped up. “Why don’t you head upstairs? I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay.”

  Quinn entered the kitchen and removed the pots from the stove. He strained the spaghetti and threw it in the trash. Placing the pot containing the sauce in the sink, he filled it with hot water. No amount of cleaning would help; the pot looked ruined.

  Quinn rejoined Sandra, who was slowly making her way up the stairs and into the bedroom. A king-sized bed sat on an Oriental rug that covered the polished hardwood floors. There was a fieldstone fireplace on the wall at the foot of the bed, with a television mounted above a small oak mantle. A rocking chair, draped with an afghan, sat in the corner. One wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pris
tine yard and the moonlight-bathed lake beyond. To one side of the fireplace, French doors led out onto a forty-foot-long wooden balcony. At one end, there were two sun lounges. At the other, there were four high-backed cushioned chairs around an oblong tempered glass-top table. The ensuite bathroom also had French doors that opened out onto the same balcony. The large shower stall and the bathroom floor were stone-grey marble, with matching vanity countertops. A Jacuzzi tub was on a raised marble platform beside a large window that overlooked the lake.

  Sandra flopped onto the bed face down. Quinn turned on the gas fireplace to take the slight spring dampness out of the air. After helping Sandra change, he joined her under the covers. Quinn snuggled in behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Both were lost in their own thoughts. Sandra was thinking about what her children must be going through, how scared they must be. Quinn was scrambling to figure out how he would get them back because he hadn’t been able to solve that piece of the puzzle yet.

  Bear had followed them upstairs and curled up in front of the French doors, looking outside, across the yard toward Quinn’s lab. Even though the lab was obscured by trees, her focus didn’t waver. She showed no interest in her usual bedtime place on the small foam bed in front of the fireplace.

  Bear looked up at Quinn with her sad brown eyes and he knew she was missing Dani and Daric, too. Quinn couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, because she didn’t know what was going on, just that they were gone.

  Sandra looked out the window at the new moon in the cloudless sky, its illumination streaking across the mirror-like stillness of the water. She had only one thought on her mind: her children. She hoped somewhere out there they could hear her silent prayer: Be safe; take care of each other. I need you home. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.

  20: Tuesday, March 9, 1937

  Harry and Daric left early in the morning for the airport. Harry was going to introduce Daric to Bo McKneely, Amelia’s mechanic. The others were going to follow a couple of hours later. Pidge was flying home today, and they were taking her to the Union Air Terminal for her 10:00 A.M. flight to Boston.

  The Cadillac pulled out of the hotel front entrance onto Olive Avenue. Millie and Pidge were in the back seat, regaling each other over their childhood antics. Dani was sitting quietly in the front, with G.P. behind the wheel.

  “Do you remember that collection we kept out in the tool shed?” Pidge asked gleefully.

  “Are you referring to the collection of worms, moths, katydids and tree toads or the collection of rats we had hunted and kept in a tin?” Amelia asked, recalling the tomboyish antics she used to drag her sister into when they were children.

  At the stop sign, G.P. looked both ways before pulling out to make a left onto San Fernando Road. Out of nowhere, a dark blue Chevy half-ton pickup truck turned right onto San Fernando Road at the same time, careening off the passenger side of the Cadillac. The car was propelled into the oncoming traffic. Amelia and Pidge were tossed around in the expansive back seat; a startled scream erupted from Pidge. G.P. struggled to regain control of the car, steering it scant inches away from a head-on collision with a transport truck, before driving it, nose-first, into the roadside drainage ditch.

  Dani took a quick glance out her window, catching a glimpse of the blue pickup as it raced away down the road, the driver apparently oblivious to the accident he had just caused.

  “Is everyone okay?” G.P. asked, turning to check on the two in the back seat.

  “Yeah, fine, just a bump on my head,” Amelia replied. “Pidge?”

  “Fine, just a little shaken, is all.”

  “It almost seemed like that guy, driving the pickup, intentionally tried to ram us. But that’s crazy, right?” Dani asked warily.

  G.P. gave Dani a perplexed glance, the same thought had occurred to him, too. He smiled uneasily. “Let me see if I can get us out of this ditch. After all, we have a flight to catch.”

  * * *

  The driver of the dark blue 1934 Chevy pickup looked in his rear-view mirror and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He had failed. He would have to try something else. He just hoped the young woman in the front seat hadn’t gotten a good look at him.

  21

  “I wish I could be here to see you off, but I have to get home; responsibilities, you know,” Pidge said sadly.

  “I know,” Millie said, grabbing her sister’s hands. “It was great you could get away at all. I’ve missed you something fierce. I’m just so sorry that it’s been so hectic over this past week while you were here. With all the details to sort out for this flight, it seemed like we didn’t get much time to ourselves.”

  “Millie, get G.P. to wire me when you are a few days from completing your world flight. I want to be here to welcome you home,” Pidge said.

  “Oh, Pidge, you don’t have to do that.” Millie didn’t want Pidge to spend that kind of money, with the times being so tough. “You know how tight-fisted Albert can be.”

  “Nonsense, I want to, end of discussion,” Pidge persisted. “I’ll deal with my husband. And you be careful, you hear me. Don’t be reckless or take any unnecessary risks. I want my big sister back home, safe and sound. Promise?”

  “I promise,” Millie said reassuringly. “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve got the best airplane, latest in radio equipment and an exceptional navigator on board.”

  They hugged quickly. “Give Amy and David a kiss for me. Tell them their aunt will visit as soon I get back, okay? And give my best to Albert, too,” she added reluctantly. She wasn’t fond of Albert. She always felt he had too tight a rein on Pidge.

  “I will.” Pidge gave her sister one final hug and climbed the stairs to board her flight to Boston and then home to her waiting family.

  22

  The exterior of the United Air Services hangar was constructed of wooden planking. The interior skeleton was all steel beams and girders. Just below the roof line, a band of three-foot-high windows encircled the hangar, providing natural lighting to the dull grey interior. For additional lighting on overcast days like today, a suspended string of metal light fixtures ran down the middle of the hangar from one end to the other. Two large sliding barn-like doors, hanging from metal tracks, defined the two stalls for the company’s aircraft. Amelia’s airplane was in the right-hand stall.

  Harry and Daric approached the lone figure in the hangar, bent over a tool chest. “Hi, Bo,” Harry said cheerfully. Not waiting for a response, Harry started the introductions.

  “Daric, this is Bo McKneely, Amelia’s mechanic. He’s been with her for almost a year now. Before that, he was an overhaul mechanic with Pratt & Whitney for six years, so he’s perfect for this job.”

  Ruckins “Bo” McKneely was a quiet, good-natured man with wavy brown hair and smiling light blue eyes. He was barrel-chested and stood roughly five-foot-eight. He was wearing ash-grey coveralls, with his name “Bo” stitched in black letters over the right breast pocket.

  “Bo, this is Daric Delaney, our newest team member. He says he’s an expert with engines.” Harry’s attention was redirected to Daric. “Didn’t you tell Amelia you used to take apart a Pratt & Whitney engine you had in your garage at home?” he prodded, hoping to highlight Daric’s abilities and to soften Bo’s stubborn posture.

  “Yes, I did, but it doesn’t compare to these,” Daric asserted, pointing at the engines hanging off the Electra’s wing.

  “Bo, you now have an extra pair of hands. Can you get him a pair of coveralls?” Harry instructed, giving up on Bo’s cold attitude toward Daric. “Don’t want to get grease on those new clothes.”

  “Sure thing,” Bo mumbled, on his way to complete the request, never acknowledging Daric. “Be right back.”

  “Never mind him, Daric, he’ll come around. Just give him some time,” Harry offered, sort of apologizing for Bo’s lack of manner
s. “I’ll come back to get you when we’re about to call it a day and head back to the hotel.”

  “Yeah, sure thing. Thanks, Harry,” Daric muttered, his eyes never wavering from the Electra.

  Harry could only smile at his young companion’s evident excitement. It was almost contagious. He made his way across the apron toward to the Union Air Terminal and another day of crunching numbers and arranging maps for what seemed the hundredth time. Amelia had often said, ‘Preparation is rightly two-thirds of any venture.’ Harry wanted to make sure he overlooked nothing and was prepared to review every detail daily just to be sure.

  Daric was ecstatic. He was actually going to work on Amelia Earhart’s airplane. He had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Sure, he had an aircraft engine he dabbled with at home, but right here, right now, this engine was legendary.

  In the back right corner, where Bo had disappeared, was a partitioned-off storage room with an attached restroom. Along the back wall was an array of tools, benches, vises, trolleys, etc., all the equipment for every eventuality when it came to servicing airplanes. In the far left corner, there were two steel drums with pumps, for fueling the aircraft.

  Bo returned with an old pair of coveralls he tossed at Daric. “Here you go, kid. So you’re an expert with engines, are ya?”

  “I’ve had some experience, yes,” Daric replied modestly.

  “Well, kid, you’ve never seen one of these before.” He motioned to the engine. “This is the Pratt & Whitney R . . .”

  “R-1340 Wasp, the first reciprocating engine built by Pratt & Whitney. It has a single-row, nine-cylinder air-cooled radial design and displaces 1,344 cubic inches,” Daric finished.

  “Now, how on earth could you possibly know that?” Bo was blown away by the young man’s knowledge of this new engine.