by Kit Morgan
Adele finished tying the tennis shoes and stood. “They’re so… flat.” She walked to the other side of the kitchen and back, a huge smile on her face. “But so comfortable!”
Lorelei did the same, sans the smile. “These are different. Sturdy.” She cast a longing look at Adele’s feet.
“Are these warm?” Adele asked.
“Not really. They weren’t meant for snow. They’re for …” Was basketball even invented yet? “… for indoor wear.”
“What kind of shoe is just made for indoors?” She paced the kitchen again. “I wonder if Mrs. Dunnigan can order them for the mercantile.”
“No, they’re … well, that has to do with my secret.” She was planning to let Adele in on it anyway – why not now? “Promise me you won’t tell anyone? Your parents and Jefferson already know, but nobody else.”
“I already promised, remember?”
That’s right, she did. “Okay, sit down.”
Adele sat. “So how did you get these shoes?”
“They’re pretty common where I’m from. Or should I say, when I’m from. You see, the MacDonalds grabbed me from Clear Creek … a hundred and forty years in the future. No, I’m not kidding,” she added before Adele could ask.
Adele just stared at her, her mouth slowly opening.
“Don’t ask me how they did it, or why – I don’t know. Believe me, when they come back, I will be asking them. But I’m telling you the truth – I was born in 2001. And now here I am in 1879.”
All Adele did for a minute was blink and breathe. Finally, she managed to whisper, “that’s a big secret, all right.” She paused again before asking, “Are you sure you’re not loco?”
Lorelei laughed. “Oh, yes, I’m sure. It doesn’t make sense to me, but it’s either that or someone is playing a practical joke on me and spending millions of dollars to do it, and that makes even less sense. If you need proof, well, look at your feet.”
Adele did. “Well, I’ve never seen shoes like this before. Whoever sewed them – that’s better stitching than I’ve ever seen on anything.”
“In my time, they have machines for that.”
“Oh my.” She bent down and touched the canvas. “Not much protection if you got stepped on.”
“Stepped on?”
Adele looked at her. “Horses, cows …”
“Like I said, they’re for indoor wear. Athletics, mainly, but people wear them for comfort too. People who work with horses and cows in my time, they wear big heavy boots.”
“That makes sense.” Adele was clearly in shock. Then she smiled and said, “I’m wearing shoes from the future?”
“Yes, you are. But I do want them back – they’re almost the only thing I have from my time.”
Adele nodded and they traded shoes again. “Let’s find Parthena, clean up the kitchen and go build snowmen while we have time. Or … can you wear those while making snowmen?”
Lorelei grinned. “My feet might get a little damp, but I’ll survive.”
“Well, if you’re sure …” Adele headed into the hall.
Lorelei followed Adele to her bedroom and waited in the hall while Parthena put her knitting away. She was making a present for one of her siblings. Adele seemed to be taking it rather well. But she had a more pressing problem: Jefferson. To think she’d been worried about taking a liking to him. If what Adele said was true, what could she do, other than tell him to forget it? How did one let a boy down easy? She had no experience with boys, other than their rejection, and she didn’t want to tell Jefferson to drop dead.
Besides, Jeff was no boy – he was a man. They were both of marriageable age, and in this century, people married young and quickly. Probably for survival reasons – it was just the way of things. She knew some people married for love even here, but that was an extra bonus if she remembered her history right. And deep down, she wanted Jefferson to be “calf-eyed” over her. Everything she’d dreamed of in a man in her own time, she was finding here in this one.
It wasn’t fair.
Once again Lorelei told herself to stay strong and not get too attached. It could only end in pain – something she had far too much experience with.
Chapter Fifteen
“What do you mean there’s no room at the inn?!”
Annie King pinched the bridge of her nose. “Colin, you don’t need to scream.”
“Oh?” he said as his eyebrows rose in innocence. “I thought it would have dramatic effect.”
“The story’s dramatic enough. We don’t need … histrionics.”
He shrugged. “Oh, very well. I’ll suppress my artistic tendencies.”
Annie shut her eyes tight. She looked to Lorelei like she was counting to ten. This had to be the sixth time Colin had blown his lines - not messing them up, just adding to them.
“If that man don’t do this right, Annie’s liable to bust a gut.”
Lorelei turned to find Grandma Waller, Mary Mulligan and – she couldn’t believe it was really her name – Fanny Fig in the pew behind her. It was the latter who’d spoken, and she still wore a pinched expression and was shaking her head at Colin. “He was very excited to get the part,” Lorelei said in his defense.
“Too excited, if you ask me. That man’s going to make a shambles of this play!”
“He’ll shape up,” Grandma assured her. “I hope.” She smiled at Lorelei. “How are you doing, child?”
Lorelei smiled shyly. She liked the old woman, who looked frail but was tough as nails. “Very well, thank you.” She’d always wanted to say that to someone.
“Glad to hear it. Any word from the MacDonalds?”
“No, ma’am.” She ran a hand over her skirt. She’d been wearing the same dress for days – people in the past apparently didn’t change clothes too often. Thankfully, today she could get a new one at the mercantile after play practice. Belle was minding the store – she, Colin and the Mulligans were taking turns covering for the Dunnigans. Colin, mostly, which explained why Jefferson had to work more than usual. He’d even had to cancel their trip to town to have tea, much to her and Adele’s disappointment. If all went well, they’d go tomorrow.
In the meantime, she watched him from a distance and spent as much time as she could with Adele and the other kids. They did chores together, cooked together, played games in the evening in front of the fire in the parlor, and occasionally – when the younger ones weren’t around – Adele would ask her about “the future.”
And the kids asked Lorelei to tell stories. They loved her stories. She had to change things, of course – replacing cars with horses and the like. But she still managed tales of a brave collie dog and the boy that owned her, of seven castaways stranded on a desert island, or of a family with a huge ranch in the Ponderosa region of California. Who knew that watching so many reruns of Lassie, Gilligan’s Island and Bonanza would come in so handy? Oddly enough, they loved the Gilligan’s Island stories the best. She could just imagine the looks on their faces if they ever saw a real television.
She made a mental note to try a different sort of story with them – if she could figure out how to word it. If she said, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away,” would they know what a galaxy was?
“I think they need you, child,” Grandma said.
She started. “What?”
“To fix the camel!” Fanny snapped.
Lorelei caught Grandma glaring at Fanny as she left the pew and decided to let them sort it out. She had a camel to mend.
“The neck seam – again,” Annie commented, handing her a needle and thread.
Jefferson was standing in the back half of the camel, occasionally grumbling at Owen Kincaid in the front. Owen was sixteen and must be going through a growth spurt because every time he got into the costume, he seemed taller. Which meant that he split the seams holding the head to the neck and it had to be re-sewn. Lorelei, with no on-stage responsibilities and having proven she could mend a seam without stabbing herself to death, had
quickly become the designated camel-neck repairwoman.
It gave her something to do, since even when Jeff wasn’t in the camel, he’d sit next to his father, while she purposely sat on the other side of the church. When she sat next to him, her heart would race, and sometimes she’d even break out in a sweat. It had been especially bad when they’d attended church yesterday. True, she was attracted to him, no denying it. But she couldn’t afford to get attached when eventually she would go home.
Home. She’d been in the past over a week. Did Mr. Jensen have the police looking for her? Did anyone question Patsy and Bob? Would they even care she’d gone missing? Or did time travel not work that way? She had so many questions for the MacDonalds when they returned …
“Lorelei?”
She gasped and looked at Annie. “I’m sorry, I was … thinking.” She looked at Owen, who’d taken off the camel head and was blushing. “Maybe we should just add a few inches of fabric to the neck, make it longer.”
Annie made a face. “It would be hard to get the colors to match.”
“The colors don’t match anyway.” Jefferson replied, muffled by the fabric. Which was true – there were so many patches and add-ons that the camel costume looked like Frankenstein’s next project.
“Why don’t we make the extension red or black, so it looks like a collar?” Lorelei suggested. “And use some tougher thread, like … I don’t know, maybe something for sewing shoes or …?” She was improvising – she knew next to nothing about thread types.
Annie tapped her chin. “That might work. Okay, boys, get out of there. And Jefferson, go to the mercantile and have your mother send over a yard by three inches of black canvas and some of the strongest thread she’s got. We’ll lick this one way or another.”
Jefferson headed off at a run. Lorelei watched him go.
“What the …?” Annie said behind her.
Lorelei turned to find the preacher’s wife staring at her Converse high-tops. Oh dear. “Yes, I hope to get a new pair of shoes today,” she said with a shrug.
“I’ve never seen any like those before.”
Okay, how to dissuade her from asking more questions? “It’s a … long story. I’d rather not get into it.” Lorelei did her best to look uncomfortable.
Thankfully, Colin saw what was happening and swooped in. “Is there any chance I could try again while we’re waiting for the materials?”
Several people groaned. Annie gritted her teeth. “Colin, really,” she sighed.
“Maybe I can help,” Lorelei suggested. “Mr. Cooke, can we talk alone?”
“Um, all right.” Colin walked to the far side of the stage – really, just a raised platform at the front of the church. In her time this church still sat at the edge of Clear Creek’s restored Old Town, looking much as it did here, and was used mostly for weddings. Lorelei had attended a wedding here once, when her friend Julie’s foster big brother got married.
Tears stung her eyes when she thought of Julie. She’d gone off to college in southern California in the fall. They were supposed to get together when Julie came home for Christmas break, but …
“Are you all right?” Colin asked.
Lorelei blinked. “Sorry, just … never mind. I was thinking – maybe you should try to downplay Joseph a little.”
Colin shook his head in confusion. “Downplay? What does that mean?”
Lorelei frowned. How did one translate concepts gleaned from a lifetime of movie watching to an era where they didn’t even have movies? Well, they did have stage plays – that was something. “I think Mrs. King wants you to show less emotion, not more. You could act like Joseph is a little bit in shock, or just so busy trying to get Mary to a safe place that he doesn’t have the energy to get angry or loud.”
“Hm. Would that work? How will the people in the back tell I’m doing anything?”
“I think it’ll still come through. I know in my time, there are some actors who are very successful because they tend to be a little …” Robotic wouldn’t make sense, hmmm … “… stiff. It works for the roles they take.”
“I could do that.” Colin didn’t sound convinced, but he did sound willing. “Just one try, please,” he called to Annie. “I really do want to get this right.”
Annie looked at Lorelei, who nodded. “All right. You, Fanny and Jefferson get in position.” Fanny Fig was playing Mary; Jefferson Cooke the elder was the innkeeper.
They began, and Colin delivered his lines as deadpan as he could manage. It went off without a hitch, and at the end everyone in the church applauded. “That’s exactly how I want it,” Annie said cheerily afterward.
Colin went back to Lorelei. “Thank you for the advice. Who knew?”
Lorelei glowed at the compliment. “In my time, there’s an expression – ‘sometimes less is more’.”
Colin laughed. “For someone who doesn’t want to be on stage, you seem to know a lot about stagecraft.”
“I’ve watched quite a few … performances.” Never mind that they were on tape or disc rather than live on stage – she wasn’t going to explain that with dozens of people around who weren’t in on her secret.
Just then Jeff came back with the needed supplies. Annie turned direction over to her husband while she and Lorelei got to work on the camel’s neck. Lorelei was still grinning from her successful assistance with Colin. If she’d tried suggesting anything to anyone in high school drama, she’d have been laughed right out of the room. It was one of the reasons she’d never been in a school play. But here in this place, with these people, she could almost be herself. No one judged her, no one made fun of her, there were no bullies.
She didn’t know why she’d rubbed people the wrong way in her own time, only that the older she got the worse it became. Especially with people like Cindy Crankshaw and her friends. Even Erwin had become more and more irritable around her during her senior year of high school. At home he hardly spoke a word to her. But maybe that’s because of Cindy’s bad influence. Boys weren’t rational with someone they were playing tonsil hockey with.
Soon they had the new piece sewn in place and Jeff and Owen tried on the costume again. This time there was no danger of seam splitting – not only was the neck not stretched, but the added fabric naturally folded in on itself, looking just like a collar. Even Owen found it comfier.
Though there was another problem. “Owen, that’s revolting!” Jeff groaned inside the suit.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it – it just came out.”
Annie immediately realized what was going on but couldn’t stop laughing enough to respond. Lorelei sighed. “Owen, did you, um …” What was the 1870s term? She had no idea – she’d have to guess. “… break wind?”
“Yes, he did,” Jeff answered before Owen could. “It smells like something died.”
Now Lorelei was having to swallow giggles; Annie was doubled over. “Come out for some fresh air, Jefferson. And Owen, no eating beans until after the play – you don’t want to make your back half ill.”
“That probably was it,” Owen admitted as Jefferson threw off the blanket that covered the middle of the beast, stood up and began gasping for oxygen. “Ma made a big mess of beans last night, and I was hungry, so I had three helpings.”
Lorelei nodded. “That’ll do it.”
Annie finally regained her composure. “Owen, when you get home, tell your ma what Miss Carson said – no more beans this week.” She shook her head and looked at Lorelei. “It happens at least once every year. The worst was when Wilfred and Cyrus were the camel several years ago. I think Wilfred did it on purpose the whole week – and twice during the actual play.”
Now Lorelei broke up laughing. “That’s so mean!”
“Cyrus had been beating Wilfred pretty badly at checkers, I think, so it was Wilfred’s revenge. Those two take their checkers seriously.”
“Still …” Though in a town as small and isolated as Clear Creek was in 1879, Lorelei could imagine things like che
ckers might be taken very seriously. Other than work, there wasn’t much to do in town. She wondered if either of them played chess.
“All right, boys, let’s get you back together. And Owen, if you feel it coming on, warn Jefferson and let him escape.” Annie stifled a snort.
“Yes, ma’am,” Owen said in some embarrassment.
As Annie brought the Wise Men on stage and had them practice walking the camel around, Lorelei went back to her pew. She couldn’t remember having this much fun in high school. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she ever felt like she belonged as much as she did here. The thought was sobering. Her life in her own era sucked, that was true, but after spending time with the Cookes she was beginning to realize just how much.
* * *
Jefferson did his best not to trip and pull Owen down with him. Not that he hadn’t earned it by breaking wind right in his face, but it was certain to tear the costume. “A little warning?” he complained as he stumbled over a step, or something.
“I ain’t supposed to talk,” Owen replied.
“Well, give me some way to know.” There was only a little light because it was daytime, but Jefferson was bent over and covered by the suit and a blanket. In a dimly lit church on the night of the play, he wouldn’t be able to see anything.
They fell silent as one of the Wise Men continued to lead them around. Then Owen tapped twice on Jefferson’s hand, which was holding Owen’s belt to keep them together. “Step,” he whispered.
Knowing it was coming made navigating a lot easier. The next time, Owen tapped without talking, and Jefferson had no problem. “I think we’re getting this,” he hissed.
“All right, places everyone,” Annie called out. “Owen, you and Jefferson stand over here.”
Owen walked them to wherever it was she indicated and stopped. “How are you doing back there?”
“Fine, seeing as you’re not blowing leftover beans on me.”
“I said I was sorry!”
