Timepiece: An Hourglass Novel

by Myra Mcentire

  “Yeah.” He loved me. But he trusted Michael. Everyone did. The last thing I wanted to do was to get into that with Emerson.

  A faint breeze brought the smell of caramel corn and cider. It sent Em’s hair flying, and she tucked it behind her ears. “Also, about Lily—”

  “Oh no.” I shook my head. “You don’t get to yell at me now. Lily already took care of the shaming portion of the day. I won’t bother her again, swear.”

  Em laughed. “I’m not worried about you bothering her. If you do, you’re the one who’ll be in trouble.”

  I got a really strange feeling, and I looked around. We were in a crowd of people, but none of them were little kids in costume. The smells of the festival had disappeared and been replaced by the smell of popcorn.

  “The line for the theater is really long,” I said, mostly under my breath. “What’s so exciting …”

  “Everyone has on hats. Those are 1940s-style coats,” Em said slowly. “Hells bells.”

  We looked up at the giant marquis at the exact same time.

  GONE WITH THE WIND

  MIDDLE TENNESSEE

  PREMIERE TONIGHT AT 7:45

  ADMISSION $1.10

  “What do we do?” I asked, overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies lined up on the sidewalk. Em and I were the only modern people in sight. “Where did our Ivy Springs go? What happened?”

  “Time slipped. Maybe you can help me pick it up?” Em extended her arm to touch a woman wearing red lipstick with hair in big, fat loops on top of her head. “And who decided to call a hairstyle a victory roll, anyway? Dumbest name ev—”

  She froze.

  Dread, the kind that makes your stomach bottom out.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “They don’t see me.” Em waved her hands in front of the woman’s face, careful not to touch her. When the woman didn’t react, Em ran down the length of the movie line, stopping every few feet to try to catch the attention of one of the patrons.

  I followed, almost knocking her over when she stopped short.

  Em was shaking her head. “Why don’t they see me?”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking.”

  “Rips. I’ve had conversations with them. They notice me, and I notice them. These rips don’t see me.” She closed her eyes. “The rip at your house yesterday—the soldier I touched didn’t see me coming. The rip the night I went back to save Michael was the same way. I was in a house with a mom and her kids, a small house, but they didn’t see me.”

  “Hey,” I said, concerned with her whirl of fear and anxiety. “It’s okay.”

  “I actually think it’s a huge sign that it’s not okay at all.” Em reached out to touch the closest rip. As the scene dissolved, she sighed in relief. “We need to get out of here. And then Michael and I need to talk to your dad.”

  Chapter 9

  F

  ingertips tapped a staccato rhythm on my bedroom door. I took the ice pack off my ribs and shoved it under my pillow before marking my book with a wayward candy wrapper. I opened the door to my dad. “Ava is getting settled.” He reached out to ruffle my hair on his way in. A year ago, I would have ducked. Now I fought the urge to lean into his touch. “I’m glad you asked her to move in. Wish I’d thought of it.”

  “It’s not like she’ll ever come out of her room.” I noticed a beer bottle cap sticking out from under the edge of my dresser. I walked over, kicked the cap underneath it, and leaned against the edge.

  “Maybe not, but we’ll know she’s safe,” Dad said, frowning in the direction of the bottle cap.

  “As safe as anyone can be from Jack.” I twisted the drawstrings hanging from the hood of my sweatshirt. “Did you and Em and Mike come to any conclusions about the way the rips are changing?”

  “Just combined our observations.”

  That was all I was going to get. Something else I couldn’t be trusted with.

  “Switching topics.” He sat down on the end of my bed, smoothing out the wedding ring quilt. It had been passed down through my mother’s family and was mine since I was little. I loved the comfort and the weight, knowing generations of Walkers had slept under it. “Have you been taking your emotion control meds regularly?”

  “Depends on what you mean by regularly.” I was. But alcohol definitely dulled the effects.

  “Daily is preferable. I wondered if something was going on. I’ve noticed a … change between us.” It hurt him to say it. I wasn’t interested in making it easier for him.

  “You were dead for six months. A lot of things changed.”

  He flinched, as if I’d swung at him and barely missed. “Fair enough.”

  “What are you getting at?” People not saying what they meant made me weary. Especially people I cared about. I could do with some complete honesty, but I’d never find it here. Not from Dad.

  “You seem more emotional than you used to be. We don’t talk about your mom, you don’t visit her—”

  “I don’t want to visit her.” I never went near her room. I was too afraid that if I did, I’d curl up beside her and never leave. I reached for one of the Atomic Fireballs on my bed and popped it in, welcoming the rush of heat.

  “Your prerogative.” He didn’t try to hide his disappointment.

  “You’ve changed, too.” I shoved my hands into the kangaroo pocket on the front of my shirt, stretching it toward my knees. “You and Michael have secrets. You didn’t … before.”

  “I had other adults to depend on before.”

  But I’m your son.

  I wanted to say that out loud. Instead, I pushed the candy into my cheek, feeling the roundness of it stretching my skin. “You aren’t going to change your mind about the rest of us helping?”

  “Not right now. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Why don’t you have some faith in your dear old dad?”

  “Maybe you should have some in us.” I said around the candy, exhaling to cool off my mouth and to distract myself from my own emotions. It didn’t work. Biting down hard, I broke the Fireball in half and traced the circles inside it with my tongue.

  “It’s not a matter of faith in you. My interests lie strictly in keeping you safe.” He stood. “Consider this the end of the discussion. Understand?”

  I didn’t answer him.

  “I promised Thomas and Dru we’d help them finish up the move. We’ll leave for the Coles’ at five. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  Em was moving in next door. A mile down the road to be exact, but she and her family would still be our closest neighbors.

  Since Thomas was so slammed during Pumpkin Daze, Dad had offered the use of our combined muscle mass to help situate the furniture. Michael’s convertible already occupied one side of the driveway by the time we arrived. I hung back once Dad got out.

  “All right,” I lectured my reflection in the rearview. “You will behave. You will not argue with anyone. Dru is pregnant, so you’ll think of helping her and not yourself, put her needs ahead of your own. You are sweetness and light. Human cotton candy.”

  My laugh started as a snicker but ended up a snort.

  I opened the Jeep door and stepped out onto the driveway. Into Lily Garcia.

  “You really take vanity to a new level.” Her hands were on her hips. “Talking to yourself in the mirror, laughing at your own jokes …”

  What had she heard? “Were you spying on me?”

  “Your window’s rolled down there, genius.” Her messy bun, combined with the tiny wire-rimmed glasses she wore, gave her a librarian vibe. A slightly sexy, seriously judgmental librarian vibe. “I assume you’re here to help unpack boxes.”

  “No, genius, I’m here to help move the furniture.” I made an exaggerated show of flexing my pecs.

  “Putting all that beef to use. Too bad your intelligence just atrophies away in that tiny little brain.”

  “Aww, you think I’m intelligent?”

  She just sighed and turned her back. I followed h
er up to the house.

  Arranging the furniture didn’t take too long. Thomas came in halfway through and stole a kiss from Dru, rubbing her belly before he got to work. Dad watched them out of the corner of his eye.

  He couldn’t stop watching them. His intense ache for my mother never eased. When I couldn’t take any more, I stepped outside on the back deck to cool off, to put some distance between myself and my father’s heartache. Leaning back against the outside wall, I closed my eyes and listened to the brisk breeze rustling the tree branches. I smelled burning leaves, the best part of living out in the country in the fall, in my opinion. Unless you counted bonfires. And hayrides.

  Hayrides were the perfect place to make out with a girl and get away with grabby hands. Could always blame it on bumpy farm roads.

  I was almost ready to go back to the house, when I heard two people arguing in the side yard. I couldn’t get back up the stairs to the porch without my heavy boots echoing on the wooden plank stairs, so I listened.

  “You have to let me do it.” Urgency saturated Lily’s voice. “Why won’t you?”

  “Your grandmother will freak,” Em answered. “She’ll freak, cause me bodily harm, and she’ll never make me another Cubano. She’s made it very clear that you aren’t allowed to look for people.”

  “You are my best friend. That makes it different.” For the first time, I noticed Lily’s slight Spanish accent. It probably became more pronounced when she was angry or upset, like she was now.

  I peered around the house to find that the ferocity of Lily’s emotions matched her expression.

  “I said no.” Em’s denial almost outmatched Lily’s insistence. “You’re loyal, and your loyalties to Abi should outweigh any you have for me. She’s your family.”

  Lily grabbed Em’s hands. “So are you. This time, what Abi doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m not going to break her rule. Not exactly.”

  “How are you going to get around it?” Em’s green eyes were full of pleading. “Finding a megalomaniac who can time travel isn’t like knowing a bank bag is back in a building. You can occasionally find things, but never people, right?”

  “That’s the rule.” Lily let go of Em. “Abi’s never explained why I can’t use it—just that I can’t.”

  “She wouldn’t have been so adamant about it for so many years if she didn’t have a good reason.”

  “Ugh, this is so frustrating.” Lily dropped her hands. “What’s the point in being a human radar detector if I can’t detect?”

  A human radar detector?

  I thought back to the conversation I’d overheard between Em and Michael at the coffeehouse.

  Disbelief exploded like a bomb in my chest. I took off down the back steps and across the short stretch of lawn.

  I crashed through a pile of crunchy leaves, causing them both to jump.

  I moved into Em’s personal space, so close she had to tilt her chin all the way up to meet my eyes. “Lily can find people. That’s why you wanted us to meet at Murphy’s Law. You thought Lily was our answer to finding Jack.”

  “I am the answer,” Lily growled, and stepped between Em and me. “Maybe you need to learn to mind your own business.”

  “But”—I looked at Em and then at Lily in confusion—“you said you couldn’t look for a person. Just things.”

  “I’m working it out. It’ll be fine,” Lily said. “I’m helping. But I have to do it on my terms.”

  “Your terms? There’s no room for terms, sweetheart.”

  “Listen, jack hole, I wasn’t aware until recently that Ivy Springs is some kind of …” Lily waved her hands around, searching for the right word. “I don’t know … freak magnet.”

  “Freak is my word, not hers,” Em contributed, her gaze bouncing back and forth between us.

  “Whose word is jack hole?” I asked.

  Lily kept going. “You might be comfortable with whatever your abnormality is, but mine’s not something I usually talk about, and it’s definitely not something I’d choose to discuss with you.”

  “Did Em tell you the consequences if we don’t find Jack?”

  “No.” Bewilderment.

  “The people who want Jack claim to have a way to rewind time,” I informed her. “If we don’t find him and turn him over, they’ll rewind it. My dad will be dead, and Em will be a vegetable in a mental hospital.”

  Frustration and anger, moving quickly into fear.

  Lily shook her head as if she didn’t believe she’d heard me properly. “A vegetable in a mental hospital?”

  “Okay, enough.” Emerson pushed her way between Lily and me. “I don’t want guilt to be Lily’s motivation for breaking a promise to her grandmother.”

  “Breaking a promise or jeopardizing lives,” I said. “Which is more important?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the consequences?” Lily asked Em.

  I took Em’s hand, concentrating, reading her. She tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her. “Why are you trying to hide the truth?”

  Em finally broke away, reminding me how much strength there was in her petite body, and took off toward the back porch at a jog.

  “Give us just a second?” I pleaded with Lily. She nodded, and I caught up with Em.

  “We’ll stop Jack,” I said. “But we have to find him to do it.”

  “No, that’s not it.” She fought tears. “Jack never mentioned Lily specifically in the list of all the things he ‘did’ for me. But I’d be an idiot to think otherwise. A best friend with a supernatural ability? A coincidence?”

  “I’m sorry, Em.”

  Her fear was for Lily. “And I don’t know where she’ll end up. Her life … it hasn’t been easy as it is. What if it was as easy as Jack could make it?”

  “Why don’t you just tell her?”

  Em lowered her voice as Lily walked toward us. “How would you feel, hearing that? Knowing your whole life was manipulated because someone wanted something from your best friend?”

  “But you don’t know if—”

  “If he did put her here, he knows what her ability is. Jack has a reason for everything he does.” The tears she’d been fighting filled her eyes. “Why would he put someone in our direct path who could find him, especially when he doesn’t want to be found?”

  “That’s it. Private time is over.” Lily interrupted and pulled Em into her arms, hugging her long and hard. “Em. Go inside.”

  “What?” Em wiped her eyes and frowned.

  “I want to talk to him. Alone.”

  She was looking at me.

  Chapter 10

  O

  nce Em was gone, I faced Lily. “I usually find bossy to be a sexy trait in a girl. You’ve broken the streak.” “I don’t give a damn what you think about me.” Lily didn’t mess around; her words always matched her emotions. “You haven’t broken any streaks at all. I’ve met a hundred boys like you in a hundred different scenarios, even dated one or two, and you’re all exactly the same.”

  “It’s not nice to stereotype.”

  “Don’t talk to me about stereotypes.” She stared up at the pale pink sky and frowned. Her eyes matched the tiger’s-eye pendant that hung from her neck. “I’m not here for friendly conversation. Michael’s solidly on Em’s side, so I’m not going to get any information from him. But you’re selfish enough to tell me the truth.”

  “Perceptive.”

  “Very.”

  “Maybe Em’s already told you the truth,” I countered. “Catch me up on what you know.”

  “Smooth.”

  “Very.”

  Lily sighed. “I know that Jack Landers messed with her time line. I know what the Hourglass does, sort of, and that you all have to find Jack.” Worry. Helplessness. “I knew there was an ultimatum, but I didn’t know what it was, or the consequences of it. Until you.”

  “Now that you do know, why did you ask me to stay out here with you, alone?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and
tilted her chin up at me. “Do you have any other way to find Jack, or am I the only option?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Dad says he’ll handle it. Well, that he and Michael will handle it.”

  “So Em’s being her usual self by trying to circumvent the problem and take care of it herself?”

  “Yes.”

  Lily’s face was screwed up in concentration, her features smoothing out as she put puzzle pieces in the right places. I didn’t want her to fit in the piece about how she ended up in this exact time and place.

  “Ivy Springs isn’t a magnet for freaks,” I said abruptly, trying to derail her train of thought. I fished a stick out of a pile of leaves and peeled off the bark, throwing it on the ground.

  “This many ‘special abilities’ in one tiny town makes it a magnet,” she said, disagreeing.

  “How do you know there aren’t fifty freaks living in Nashville? Or five hundred in Atlanta?” I peeled off another piece of bark. “Maybe they’re keeping it a secret, too.”

  “There are at least five hundred freaks in Atlanta, but that doesn’t mean any of them have a special ability.” She jerked the stick out of my hands and snapped it in half.

  “Okay.” I raised my eyebrows.

  “You’re trying to change the subject.” She chucked a piece of the stick toward the woods. “I don’t know why, but if you want to succeed, you’ll have to try harder.”

  “One point to Lily.”

  “If you don’t find Jack, and time is rewound, how do you know things wouldn’t play out the exact way they did the first time?” she asked. Too perceptive. “How do you know people wouldn’t make the same choices, live the same lives?”

  “I think the people who want Jack will take him out of the picture. From what point do they take him? After he killed my dad but before he changed Emerson’s time line?”

  She threw the other half, harder this time. “That sucks.”

  “That sucks,” I agreed.

  “If I do help …” She stopped, catching her breath, and stared over my shoulder. I turned around.

  A man sat on a horse twenty feet in front of us.