“Where do ye want me to start?” Benji asked. “There willna be much to do while ye are in the hospital so I can start the razing and land clearing. Then, if ye have the plans, I can be yer contractor. I jest need yer permission to act on yer behalf.”
“Do you mean you could be the general contractor?” asked Billy.
“Weel, act as one. I’m not sure of the local regulations but I can do jest about anything that needs done with constructing a building. I mean, excavating and pouring the foundation, the plumbing, electrical, framing, drywall…”
“I get it, I get it,” Billy said with hand held up. “If it has wings, wheels, or tracks you can operate it. If it has wires, pipes, or concrete, you can build it.”
“Pretty much,” Benji said with a full-faced grin. “But I think that ye need to have the building plans on file around here. I wouldna want ye to be doin’ anything illegal now…” he commented to his policeman friend with a wink.
5 Mother Knows Best
Barden Hall, Scotland, 1985
M ona and Gregg MacKay had made the difficult decision several years earlier to leave their life and her parents in 1772 and to travel forward; to return to their native-born time of the 20th century. They had lived with her mother and father, Sarah and Jody Pomeroy, for seven years back in the 18th century. There, their two children, Benji and Rebecca, were born. It was only because of a medical crisis that they made the physically painful journey through ‘The Stones’ to go back to the 20th century. The ancient standing stones in North Carolina, like the ones at Stonehenge and scores of other sites around the world, were portals through time. This method of time travel, the secret of the centuries, was precarious and also caused the travelers intense physical pain. But, the trip had been necessary so Benji’s infant sister, Rebecca, could receive the modern cardiac surgery needed to save her life. Becky was fine now, completely healed, and thriving.
The parents had decided to remain in the 20th century. The horrific pain of traveling was their only deterrent to returning to their 18th century family, but it was enough. They re-adapted quickly to their former lifestyle and were a traditional Scottish family. Both parents held respectable jobs, their seemingly fantasy life 200 years previously, a closely held family secret. Thanks to some creative estate planning by Sarah before she returned to her husband and the 18th century, the land and buildings of Jody’s family estate of Barden Hall in Scotland now belonged to their daughter, Mona.
Life was almost perfect for the MacKays. There was still a hole in their lives though. Mona missed her mother and father terribly and, even though life in that era had been rough on Gregg, he, also, enjoyed the simpler times. The change to a modern way of life was hardest on young Benji. He only had good memories of his life before running water and electricity, cars and televisions. He tried telling his classmates about hunting with Grandpa, how when he was little, there weren’t radios or airplanes, but they responded with taunts and name-calling, alienating him and deeming him crazy.
Grandpa Jody had been his mentor and best friend. Even though Benji loved his father and, even though they spent as much time together as a father and son could, it wasn’t the same. Grandpa was special to him. And, he was determined that he was going to find his way back to him, one way or another. No one could change his mind although, after a year, he stopped telling his parents of his plan. He didn’t like the way it made his mother sad and his father frustrated. He wouldn’t bother them with it anymore. But, he would go back.
Ж
January 2, 1989
Barden Hall
“I want to read them all,” Mona announced suddenly to her husband. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she stroked her greatest treasure, the inlaid box of letters. These were the written diaries, histories of a sort, sent to her and her family by her parents. The letters had been held in trust for two centuries by God only knows whom, when they were discovered amongst Gregg’s deceased father’s vast boxes of historical records. She and Gregg were reading one every month, or every few weeks if she was antsy, and now her curiosity had the best of her. Again. She wanted them all, now—she wanted to read all of the letters right away.
“Uh, I dinna think so,” Gregg replied. “We agreed that we’d savor them, space them out, and read them over time. There are a finite number and once we’ve read them all, we willna have anything else to look forward to.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind and I want to read them all, every last one of them, this weekend. And, I’m not changing my mind back again. Now, you can read them with me or I’ll read them by myself. I’ll put them back in the same order when I’m done and then you can read them, one a month, until you’ve read them all.” Mona stuck her chin out and crossed her arms in front of her chest; she was determined and not going to change her mind. Again.
It was early Saturday morning; their children, Benji and Becky, were in town with their friend Maura for the weekend so they could remodel the bathroom without distractions. Mona had said the same thing at least three times in the last two years, but they always went back to their ‘ration the letters’ agreement. Gregg rolled his eyes. He’d seen the jutting chin and heard that tone more than once. He could argue with her, but that would only eat up their limited time. He decided he’d simply say okay to her and then she’d change her mind, again. Just like she always did.
“Go aheid; open all of them, right now. If there’s anythin’ interestin’, let me ken. Otherwise, ye’ll ken what’s in them and I willna. I’ll have a treat comin’ to me the first of every month and ye willna,” Gregg said, biting off the urge to say, ‘nanner, nanner, nanner!’
“Okay, fine,” Mona declared sharply then snorted. “Sorry about the attitude,” she amended quickly. “It’s just, well—call it women’s intuition or mother’s intuition or whatever. I just feel like there’s a warning in there for me. I’ll savor the words later. Right now I’m, well, searching for something.”
Mona wiped her nose. Although he hadn’t seen any tears, Gregg could tell that she was definitely emotional about something. “All right, ye win or whatever. But let’s do it together. I hate it when ye ken more than I do about somethin’— at least when it’s pertinent to both of us. I’m glad ye ken more than I do about engineerin’ and plumbin’. And, speakin’ of that, ye agree that we’ll only buzz through these—just scan through them fer now? We can go back to our once a month readin’s later for further appreciation? We still have to get the bathroom replumbed, ye ken. I want to be able to take a hot shower, not a warm dribble.”
“Okay, you stoke the fire and I’ll bring a couple of tall lattes and a plate of biscuits. There are at least two dozen letters here. Let’s get comfortable.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Gregg said as he brought the coffee table closer to the couch where they were seated. “I’ll just scan them, or ye can, fer bold writing: somethin’ that looks like a warnin’. That shouldna take too much time. If we find somethin’: great, or not great. And, if we dinna, we can go through them slower or…maybe just go back to readin’ one a month again?” he suggested cautiously.
“We’ll see,” Mona answered in the same tone, “we’ll see.”
Gregg handed Mona a letter. She unfolded it gently, scanned it for obvious warnings, then refolded it and put it aside. They didn’t find anything extraordinary until the sixth letter. Gregg noticed the small note enclosed even before he gave it to Mona to open. He pulled it out. “Look,” he said as he pointed to the writing, “It’s written with a ballpoint pen!”
“Let me see!” Mona shrieked as she reached for the letter.
“Together,” Gregg announced then put the note in his right hand and opened out his left arm for her to snuggle close so they could both read it at the same time.
‘Mona, Gregg: Benji will disappear but he’s fine. He’s here with his Grandpa and Grannie. Do NOT look for him or you will endanger him and yourselves. Take care of each other, Evie (your sister-in-law).’
“What
the fu..?” Mona exclaimed. “Benji…gone?” she gulped. Her original furor and shock had segued into fear and desperation.
Gregg took the note out of her hand and turned it over, looking for more clues. There was nothing but the short and to the point warning by someone who they didn’t know about, at least yet. “Sister-in-law?” Gregg asked. “Does that mean that Wallace…that Wallace has acknowledged Jody as his father?”
“Hell if I know. But Benji…how, why, when? There isn’t a date on it, is there? Can’t we protect him? Do you think that we should move from here? Would that help? And why can’t we look for him?” Mona’s questions were popping like a case of Jiffy Pop in a bonfire.
“Slow down,” Gregg said as he wrapped his other arm around her and held her tight.
“There has to be a reason why we’re not supposed to look for him,” she said. “Shit, he isn’t even gone. Oh, crap, he’s with Maura. But, I’m sure he’s fine. He and Becky are both fine. But if he disappears…”
“When he disappears,” Gregg corrected.
“If or when he disappears, he’ll be fine.” Mona sighed deeply. “So I guess all we can do is keep him near us, let him know how much we love him, and trust that he’ll enjoy his life back with his Grannie and Grandpa. Are we supposed to say anything to him?”
“NO!” Gregg screamed. “No,” he repeated, bringing it down a few decibels. “God, he’d be terrified, afraid to go out into the daylight, afraid that anyone or everyone will grab him…”
Mona snorted. “Not hardly; he’d try to find out who was trying to kidnap him and challenge him: dare him to try and take him away from his mother, father, and little sister.”
Now Gregg snorted, “Or he’d search out whoever was gonna take him back to Grandpa and tell him to hurry up.” Gregg inhaled deeply, slowly letting out his breath and his confession, “If I dinna love yer father so much, I’d be jealous. Those two have a surreal bond and I wouldna dream of subjugatin’ it. But, I will start teachin’ him self-defense.”
“Well, I guess there’s a bright side to this note. My father can claim his son and now Benji has an uncle and an aunt.” Mona’s tears were flowing. She grabbed the napkin and started blotting the wetness. “I knew I’d have to let my son go eventually, but I thought it would be to college or another woman. I never thought it’d be to my own father in the 18th century!”
“Well, Evie said he’s fine so let’s jest hope he finds someone there to make him happy. And maybe he’ll send us a note…” Gregg and Mona both grabbed for the pile of unread letters. “We’re just lookin’ fer his handwritin’, nothin’ else,” Gregg scolded.
“Right,” Mona said as she took the seventh letter in the series. “And unless his penmanship improves, it shouldn’t be too hard to spot. It looks like his granddad’s only worse.”
Ж
“Okay, I’ll admit defeat,” Mona said as she put down the last letter. They had scanned over every one twice, not reading ideas, but looking for the name Benji and his handwriting. They had found references to Benji, but only Jody speaking fondly of him when he was a child, with the hope that he would grow to be a fine man, one who would make his parents proud.
“I dinna think that it was some sick joke,” Gregg said, voicing the concern that they both felt. “Who would have access to those letters except for a member of the family or someone verra close? And who would ken who Benji was? Well, anyone who kent yer father fer verra long would have heard him brag about his grandson…”
“No, I think it’s legitimate,” Mona said with a sigh. “I’ll just make sure he knows how much we love him while he’s with us. At least he’s going back to a time, a place, which he’s always missed. I just wish we knew more.”
“Well,” Gregg said gently, “if neither yer father nor Benji wrote about him bein’ back there in these letters, and we ken that this is a comprehensive set, then it’s because they dinna want us to ken. Sarah wouldna have written anythin’ if Jody dinna want her to. But, it looks like yer brother got himself a sassy wife. I wouldna doubt that they have a child or two: she’s warnin’ ye like she would want to be warned. Come on; let’s go check out the plumbin’ situation. Ye tell me what ye need and I’ll hand ye the tools or hold the flashlight, yer choice.”
6 Surprise, Surprise
October 17, 1781
Pomeroys’ Place
S arah didn’t complain as a rule, but I could tell something was bothering her. She didn’t have any spark and sat down every chance she got. When I asked her what was wrong, she’d say, “Oh, nothing,” or “I just don't feel quite right.” She wasn’t sick, but couldn't explain the fatigue or queasy stomach that had plagued her for the last two weeks.
"Lie down," I told her when she came in with an armload of kindling. Her non-specific frown of fatigue was just too much for me to ignore. It was time for me to confirm or dispel my suspicions.
She gave me a look that said, 'who's the doctor here?' but lay down on her bed and didn’t say a word. I felt her forehead just to eliminate the possibility that she had a flu bug. Nope, she was fine. It was early autumn and the daytime temperatures had dropped. It was nice not being in a constant state of bake.
“What are you doing?" she asked indignantly as I felt her lower abdomen.
I grinned and said, "You stopped having periods quite a while back, didn't you?”
“You know I did,” she replied curtly. “I told you how great it was. The hot flashes aren’t any fun, but not having a monthly is a fair trade.”
“But you haven't been having hot flashes, have you,” I asked. I was enjoying this.
“No, not really; just a warm minute or two when I’m fatigued which, now that I think about it, happens all the time... Oh, crap," she said as realization hit. "How could that be?"
"I really don't think I need to tell a doctor how babies are made," I said.
"I mean, I'm 59 years old for God's sake."
"Yes, and according to my lovely eldest daughter, who is 24 by the way, I was 36 when I had her. That means that I was 60 when I had these lovely creatures. Remember, I told you to be careful, that the Fountain of Youth serum had certain, um, side effects, like fertility enhancement..."
“Yes, but I was careful,” she interrupted. “I went and found the wild carrot seeds the very next day.”
“Okay. I believe you. But, what was the first thing Jody did when he woke up after taking the, um, elixir?”
“He, we, oh, Lord,” she said, and turned onto her side, hiding her head in her hands in a combination of embarrassment and disbelief.
“And, that was a short two months ago. So, I would say that you're having twins,” I said, then paused for the full effect, “at least." I grinned at her and was glad to see her roll over onto her back and give me at least a seed of a smile. "Oh, you have no idea how sweet it is to tell you that,” I said as I patted her on the shoulder.
“Yeah, well now I know how you felt,” she carped. “I'm getting too old for this shit!" she grumbled as she sat up.
“Oh, no you're not,” I argued in a singsong manner.
“What shite are ye gettin' too auld for?” Jody asked. He walked in with the rest of the firewood, set it down, and looked at Sarah, concerned and worried about her.
"I think I'm going to have to tie a bell around your ankle, my dear brother-in-law father-in-law,” I said brightly. I grabbed a dishtowel and headed to the well. “I think Sarah has something to tell you. And, I think it would best be done without an audience.”
7 The Best News
J ody set down his load of firewood and walked over to Sarah’s side. “So, what is it that yer too auld fer?” he teased as he squatted down, moving as if he was going to lie down next to her.
“No, no, you don’t,” she admonished, her hand held high to stop his progress. “I’m getting up.” She grunted as she struggled to rise, “if I can make it. My back seems to have come unhinged.”
“Aye, I remember ye had that problem with Hope. Dinna ye
say that the ligaments loosened up when ye were pregnant.”
Jody saw Sarah’s face drop at his words. “What? Are ye pregnant? Ye have been a bit peekish lately…”
Sarah didn’t say a word, but Jody could see the answer in her face: the glow of pregnancy that he had subconsciously remembered when he mentioned their first child, Hope, was all about her. “Yer with child!” he whispered proudly, and reached over to help her rise. He gathered her into his arms and held her close. “I thought those days were behind us,” he crooned into the hair behind her ear, rocking her back and forth with contentment.
Sarah basked in his comforting hold, glad that she didn’t have to find the words to relay the shocking news that even she was having a hard time believing. “Those days were behind us,” she said as she pulled her face away from his chest, “but that ‘magic’ water Evie gave you, and then me, two months ago, that ‘Fountain of Youth’ elixir, did a biological rewind.”
Sarah could see the confused look on her husband’s face and explained. “It was the same elixir Simon used on her when she had a fractured skull and broken back when she first came ‘here’ a year or so ago. Evie gave you the Fountain of Youth elixir to repair your body after the blood loss. I had given you a transfusion of Leah’s blood, but it couldn’t repair your renal—kidney—failure. So, Evie brought out that wee blue bottle she had ‘lifted’ from Master Simon. She dosed you with several drops of the elixir. She said that since age reversal had occurred when Master Simon had given it to her, she wanted me to take a few drops, too. If you did get younger, I would, too. Remember when we woke up…”
The Great Big Fairy Page 4
