by Julie Cross
I watched him take off running out the doors and realized, for the first time, that he might not have been there at the end, either. She was alone. I stood up and slipped into Courtney’s room, unnoticed by any hospital staff. It was the largest patient room in the hospital and the entire thing was covered with flowers, cards, and gifts. I closed the door behind me and already I felt the urge to run. Because I knew what was coming, the weight was so heavy, like a semi truck sitting on my chest.
Courtney was lying on her side, curled up and so pale. If it weren’t for the red hair, she’d have just blended in with the sterile white sheets. The monitor above her head ticked like a clock, counting the minutes.
Somehow I managed to put one foot in front of the other and made it to the chair next to her bed. The one I’m certain my father had just abandoned to go find me. Her eyes peeled open and then squinted as if trying to focus on my face. “Jackson?”
All I could do was nod and force back the tears.
“You look so different … must be the morphine,” she said.
Just hearing her voice, seeing that little bit of life still clinging to her body, it was too much. I started to get up, but she slipped her cold fingers under mine. “Please don’t go. I haven’t seen you in forever.”
I scooted my chair closer and squeezed her hand. “I won’t.”
She smiled and her eyes fluttered, but she forced them open. “I hate this place, too. No wonder you never want to come.”
That’s when I lost it. I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the cold white sheet and watched the tears drop from the end of my nose onto the bed. “I’m sorry, Courtney. I’m so sorry.”
Her cold fingers moved through my hair, rubbing my head.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She patted the empty space next to her. “Come up here with me, I’m freezing.”
I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my sweater and rested my head on her pillow. Courtney moved closer and my heart pounded. This was almost like seeing a ghost.
She lifted my hand and rested it against her cheek. “You’re so warm … and you’re scared to be here, aren’t you?”
I stared into her green eyes, which were still bright as ever. “Yes, but I won’t leave. I promise.”
“Close your eyes,” she whispered. “It helps me when I want to be somewhere else. Now tell me something great, but no hospital or sick people or medicine stuff.”
I closed my eyes and forced my voice to come out even and told her the same thing I’d told her in 2004. “I have a girlfriend now.”
“No way,” she said, only a faint whisper. “Who?”
“She’s from a different school.” I moved my hand to her back and rubbed it gently.
“How did you meet her?”
“It’s a great story. Do you want to hear it?”
“Yes, please.”
“You know the big doors in the front of the YMCA? With the steps leading up to it?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Well, I was walking up the steps almost to the big doors, when this girl comes barreling into me. Apparently she was reading a book while walking—”
“What book?”
I brushed the hair from her face and smiled. “I knew you’d ask that. It was some John Grisham book. Anyway, she knocks right into me and her giant pink smoothie falls on top of my shoes. So we’re sliding around in frozen strawberries and the first thing I notice are her pale blue eyes.”
Courtney laughed lightly. “So romantic … but I don’t believe you looked at her eyes first.”
“No lie. I totally did. Then I reached for her book to save it from the smoothie flood and saw she had written her name on the inside cover, Holly Flynn, with a big curly loop in front of the H. Of course, I thought it was really cute, but I couldn’t tell her that. I mean, who actually writes their name inside a book?”
“I do,” Courtney whispered. “So then what happened?”
“Well … I handed her the book and she smiled at me. And all I could think was how much I wanted to kiss her. Just to see what it felt like. Somehow, I knew it would be different with Holly. Everything would be different.”
“My brother’s in love … never thought I’d hear that,” she mumbled with a smile.
I touched my lips to her forehead. “You’re so cold.”
“Jackson, promise me something, okay?”
“Anything.”
“Marry the girl with the smoothie and have lots of kids. At least six. And you can name one Courtney and another one Lily. I’ve always loved that name.”
“I know. You named, like, five of your dolls Lily. But I’m only nineteen, a little too young to get married…”
Her eyes flew open and I could see her brain reeling with theories, and then panic flooding in. She gasped before saying, “You’re not really Jackson, are you?”
I pulled her closer, wrapping both arms around her. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s really me, just older.”
“But we never meet here. I usually go to see you.”
“Yeah … I know,” I said, even though she wasn’t making any sense. I hated that she was so calm after what I had just accidentally told her. No punching me or screaming in the middle of coffee shops. It meant they were giving her a lot of morphine and she was dangling by a thread.
She yawned and relaxed her muscles again. “I’m so … tired.”
I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was only eight forty-five. Watching her eyes close again, knowing she would drift off soon, sent me into a panic. Even though I knew what was coming. I mean, I’d already seen my sister lying in a casket … but still, I wanted to stop it. Or at least delay it. Give her a little more time.
“Courtney! Stay awake … please. Please.” I shook her shoulders lightly, then pressed my forehead against her hair. “Just a little longer.”
She touched her hand to my face and wiped the tears off my cheeks. “You have hair on your face … it’s prickly.”
I laughed. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I love you, too.” Her hand slid to my neck, like she didn’t have the strength to hold it up. “You still haven’t promised me … marry the smoothie girl, have six kids and maybe a dog.”
“I promise,” I whispered right in her ear, so I knew she’d hear. Her face broke into a huge grin. “What should our wedding song be?”
“Hmm…”
“I know what you’d pick,” I teased before singing her favorite song, “I see the bad moon arising.”
“Yep,” she said. “Not really a wedding song, though…”
I could already feel the shallowness of her breath. I wanted to be brave. To keep talking and hold it together for Courtney, but I couldn’t. She was headed somewhere far away from me and I felt more alone than ever.
I wiped my nose with my sleeve and lifted her chin to make sure her eyes were still open. “Courtney, does it hurt? Anywhere?”
“I’m okay.”
She was lying. I could see it written all over her face. “Courtney, tell me the truth.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she finally nodded. “Yes … it hurts … everywhere … and trying to stay … that hurts the most. Like holding on to the edge of a cliff and my fingers keep slipping.”
That’s why she’d hung on for two more hours the first time. She was waiting for us. For someone. I squeezed her tighter and felt the tears falling twice as fast. “I’m sorry. It should be me. It should be me.”
“No, Jackson. Don’t say that, ever.” Her voice came out with more life than it had this whole time.
I drew in a deep shaky breath and forced myself to stop crying. “It’s okay, Courtney. You can sleep now. It’s okay. No more pain.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
And I could almost see it, a clear picture in my mind: her knuckles white, fingers gripping around a rock, and then the instant relief of letting go. Free-falling, feeling nothing but air, no weight. No pain.
I co
mbed my fingers through her hair and watched with silent tears until her breath came in short spurts and then it just … stopped.
The beeps turned to one long beep. Several pairs of feet pounded against the tile floor of the hallway. I whispered one last good-bye and closed my eyes, thinking of nothing but Holly, lying on her dorm room floor, bleeding and alone. That’s where I needed to be.
I heard Dr. Melvin’s voice just before I jumped as he uttered a loud but confused, “Jackson?”
* * *
I didn’t even open my eyes when I tagged up in 2007. I felt myself being pulled back together. Chief Marshall’s hands had dropped from my throat. Nothing but air surrounded me, but I was sure they were all still close by, ready to make a move. I heard my dad’s voice just before I attempted the full jump back to October 30, 2009. Again. Please let it work this time.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Icy water splashed over my face. I coughed and sputtered, tasting chlorine. The air was thick and humid and dissolved the chill I had gotten from the hospital.
And that jump. It felt like nothing. No pulling-apart sensation. A full jump. I finally did it again. But to where? And it totally felt too hot to be October 30.
“Maybe he’s drunk,” a voice said. “Want me to dump another bucket on his head?”
“No, it’s swine flu, I know it is,” another voice said.
I opened one eye and was nearly blinded by the sun. Then the six or so pairs of little eyes leaned closer.
“Why are you dressed for winter?”
I shot up and all the kids jumped backward. “Oh, no.”
“Jackson? Are you okay?” a little girl asked.
I stood up from my chair and nearly walked backward right into the pool. “Um … what year is it?”
All the kids giggled and then one spoke up. “2009. Yup, he’s drunk.”
2009. I did it. I actually made it back here. Well … at least I hoped it was the same timeline I left.
“Hunter, nobody’s drunk,” a familiar voice said from behind me.
I spun around and came face-to-face with Holly. I clutched her shoulders. “What year is it?”
Her forehead wrinkled as she looked me up and down. “What are you wearing? When did you change clothes?”
“I don’t know,” I answered slowly.
I was still wearing the thick sweater and dress pants I had worn for my dad’s fake party in 2007. I could already feel the sweat running down my back. The temperature had to be at least ninety degrees. Adam walked up behind Holly and his eyes were huge. “Uh-oh.”
“Adam, thank God! What year is it? How long have you known me?”
Holly laughed, but there was a hint of nervousness. “Is he okay?”
“Um … must be the heat.” He grabbed my arm. “Let’s get you in the shade. And it’s August 2009. You’ve known me since … March.”
Okay, it’s the right timeline. He doesn’t remember meeting me in 2007. I got the year right, too. Just not the month … or the day … but if this worked like it did when I jumped to 2007, the slightly younger me should have disappeared. Which meant that I might have time to fix things. Or, more important, to prevent things.
I followed him away from the pool and under the protection of a tree. I fell onto the grass and lay down, looking up at the swaying branches. Holly knelt down beside me and pressed her hand to my forehead. “Do you need water?”
I grabbed the front of Adam’s shirt. “I don’t know if I’m really here in … you know … home base.”
I heard his breath catch. “But you’re sweating … you can feel heat … it has to be—”
“I know.”
“We should get some help,” Holly said, panic filling her voice.
“No! It’s just these … vitamins I made with herbs from the greenhouse. Jackson offered to test them out. I think he’s having hallucinations.”
“Lots of them. Like weeks’ worth of hallucinations,” I said.
“Damn,” Adam mumbled under his breath.
Holly shoved him, hard. “Are you crazy? You can’t just make stuff and give it to people. What if you poisoned him?”
Adam pulled me up so I was standing. “He’ll probably be fine. It’s all-natural ingredients. Maybe we should go to the hospital just in case.”
He was pulling me farther from Holly and I couldn’t stand the thought of having her out of my sight. “Wait! I just need—”
“You need to come with me, now!” Adam said.
I pushed him out of the way and dropped down in front of Holly, who was still sitting in the grass. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed tight. “I missed you so much.”
“Seriously, Adam, what did you give him? He’s really messed up.”
I released her and held her face with both hands, then touched my lips to hers. “I’m so sorry I left.”
She gently pried my hands from her face and stood, glancing at Adam. “I’m going to round up the kids. Help him, okay? Use Mr. Wellborn’s car.”
I flopped back onto the grass and closed my eyes. A minute later, Adam shook my shoulders. “She’s gone.”
“I had no idea you were so puny at sixteen.” I shot up like the building was on fire. My plan … Dr. Melvin’s experiment. “We’ve got to do something … go somewhere.”
Right now, in this timeline, no one in the CIA knew about time-traveling Jackson. They were completely unsuspecting and I had to act fast before that changed.
I quickly filled Adam in on Marshall’s mention of the experiment, which I thought would fascinate him, but he couldn’t get past the CIA stuff and being stuck in 2007 to ask the most important questions.
“I can’t believe your other self just disappeared in 2007. That’s so freaky! Never in any of my time-travel research did I expect to hear that,” he said.
“The weirdest part is that they totally freaked when I told them about seeing my other self … in the half-jump or whatever. It was like they’d never heard of that, and Dr. Melvin’s supposed to be some kind of expert on this messed-up gene or whatever.”
Adam shook his head in disbelief and then let out a huge breath, like he’d been holding it in for the last few minutes.
“We should go,” I reminded him.
“I’ve got extra shorts and a T-shirt you can change into. You’ll die of heatstroke in those clothes,” Adam said, already heading in the direction of the camp office.
“Wait!” I said. “Where was the other me … before I ended up here? We should make sure he’s really gone … what if going forward or sideways or whatever is different? I can’t have two of me running around.”
Adam stopped and turned around to face me. “You were by the pool watching your group during swim lessons.”
Just to be sure, Adam radioed every single counselor in the camp to see if they’d seen the other me, the one that was actually dressed for work … and for August weather. We couldn’t take a chance not knowing for sure, but I had never left my group of kids alone during swim lessons, and my other self’s bag with wallet was abandoned by the pool. Something else I wouldn’t have done.
After we convinced the camp director my medical condition required attention, but not in the form of an ambulance, and we were on the road headed to Dr. Melvin’s office in the hospital, I finally explained things in more detail.
He took my story with a lot less shock than most people would, but that’s totally Adam.
“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” I said as my plan formed in more detail. “Since we know Dr. Melvin did some kind of wacky experiment that involves me, and let’s say the data is stored in his computer somewhere, could you get it out? Copy it or whatever genius computer hackers like you do? I’d like to do this without a time jump, if we can pull it off. I don’t want to risk exposing my abilities.”
Assuming I haven’t already.
“If it’s in there, I can get it. There are very few networks I haven’t been able to breach,” he said.
“Damn, the CIA
would love to get their hands on you.” I grinned at him and then remembered the most important part. “They called it Axelle … I don’t know if the file would be named that or not, but Dr. Melvin is bound to have done more than one experiment in his life.”
“Got it,” he said with a quick nod. “I think the real question is … can I do this without somebody killing me?”
“And without my superpowers.” I thought about this for a minute before answering. “I need to fake an injury.”
“You could run into a pole, get a big bump on your head,” he suggested.
“No, nothing that might require brain scans of any kind.”
“Right … forgot about that. When was the last time he did a full-body scan?”
I let out a breath. “June. Right before my birthday.”
“So … you think … he knows?”
I looked out the window. This was something I thought about a lot in 2007. “He knows something. He has to. Maybe it doesn’t mean he did something bad with the information, but the signs sure point in that direction.”
“So, basically, you have no clue who’s good and who might want to kill you?” Adam concluded.
“Yep,” I said. “From now on, I’m on my own side.”
Adam nodded and his expression was full of sympathy. “I think you’ve always been on your own side.”
He meant that in a good way. I was certain he did, but to me it just reiterated the fact that I was alone in my own universe. My own timeline.
The ride up the elevator to Melvin’s office was like that day in 2007, when Dad and I went to see Melvin. I decided on faking a back injury because lots of people have that without anything a doctor can physically see.
Melvin came right out of his office to meet me. “What happened, Jackson?”
“He fell off … um … a diving board,” Adam said.
“Actually, it was more like I fell on a diving board,” I added.
Dr. Melvin hurried me into an open exam room. “You’re still walking, that’s a good sign.”
“Do you mind if my friend waits in your office?” I asked.
“No, not at all,” Melvin said.
