by Wolf, Bree
Sometimes the world had a sick sense of humor.
Thinking of what Abby had said, I wondered whether there was such a thing as fate. Were there things that were predetermined? Was there a pattern? A way in which everything worked together? Intertwined and not separate? Was there a reason why I had just now at this point in my life been given the task of writing a review on this book?
I shook my head. These thoughts would lead nowhere.
Leaving the office building, I started reading the first chapter, now and then lifting my eyes off the page to see where I was going. I managed to walk two blocks without bumping into someone or something.
Then a skater came out of nowhere.
Trying my best to avoid a collision with him, I stumbled sideways and stepped on someone’s foot. My heart beating in my chest, I mumbled an apology to the woman and turned my gaze back to the pages before me.
That was when something suddenly seemed different. Felt different. I felt like I was being watched.
Looking up, I let my eyes glide down the street, then across and up.
There under a streetlight stood the man from the elevator, staring at me once again.
At first, I felt as paralyzed as I had before. However, Abby was right. Somehow our last encounter had prepared me for this one.
Without another moment of hesitation, I headed towards him, quickly glancing up and down the street to avoid another near hit with a car and then crossed to the other side. He was still standing under the streetlight, motionless. When I was maybe half a block away from him though, he suddenly turned around and walked away, down the street.
I hurried on, avoiding run-ins with other pedestrians while at the same time keeping my eyes fixed on him. Once he turned around and looked at me as though checking if I was following. Then he walked around a corner, and I lost sight of him.
Picking up the pace, I hurried onward and reached the corner only a few seconds after I’d seen him vanish around it. Looking down the street, he was nowhere to be seen. The street was empty.
I stood there, thinking that maybe he had entered one of the buildings framing the little side street. Maybe he lived around here. But because of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, that seemed unreasonable. I knew that he was gone. Like he had vanished into thin air. I didn’t know why, but that seemed more likely than any other explanation I could’ve come up with.
Unable to just walk away, I swept my eyes across the darkening street and whispered, “Who are you?”
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but I received no answer. Reluctantly, I turned back and headed home.
At the apartment, I found Andy waiting at the kitchen table, a fast food bag in front of him. When I walked in, he was just wiping his fingers on a napkin he then tossed into the empty bag.
“I take it you’re not hungry anymore.”
He shook his head, grinning. “Now that you mention it, no, not really.” He got up, dumping the bag in the trash. “How was your day? You look a little spooked.”
I was about to answer when I realized how tired I was. I didn’t feel like talking this over again, and looking at my brother, I could clearly read the reluctance on his face with which he had asked the question, not wanting to hear the answer. He didn’t really want to know. So I put on a brave smile and said, “It was just a long day. I’m really tired.”
There was a hint of relief on his face, and he didn’t press the matter. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at me.
Looking down, I realized I was still holding the book Ryan had given me. “Oh, I got this at work.” I handed him the book.
Reading the title, he said, “I’ve heard of this book. It’s supposed to be really great.” He looked up at me. “Since when do you read sci-fi?”
“Since I was asked to write a review,” I replied.
His eyes opened wide. “Really? That’s great!” He gave me a hug. “I’m proud of you, Sis.”
I smiled up at him. “Thanks. Ryan said they’ll only publish it if it’s good enough…which I guess should go without saying, and I know that sci-fi is not really my thing, but I’ve decided to try it anyway.”
He nodded. “You should. It’s a great opportunity.”
“I know,” I said, taking the book from him. “So, if you’ll excuse me? I think I’ll get right to it then.”
I quickly changed into my pajamas, and propping up my pillows, I lay back in bed and started to read. Surprised, I found it interesting from page one, without that usual technology babble that only people with a PhD in physics could understand. Now and then, I even heard myself laugh.
Taking a few notes here and there, I soon began to have trouble reading my own handwriting and the print became more difficult to make out as well. Stifling a yawn, I took the engraved silver bookmark from Jane Eyre and clipped it on the page, putting the book on my nightstand.
Pulling the blanket tight around me, I soon drifted off to sleep, and as though we had a nightly appointment, there it was again. That voice I had been hearing almost every night for a few days now.
Again, it sounded familiar. And again, I didn’t recognize it. However, that night I noted for the first time that it was a male voice speaking to me.
Book Three
Chapter Ten – Book-Learning
The cheerful twittering of birds slowly drifted into my mind. Yawning, I opened my eyes. How was it that morning always came too soon? Looking out the window, I saw snowflakes flying by, whirling around in circles and settling on the crossbars of the window. There already was an inch-high pile on the outside window sill.
And then it hit me. Snow? It was August. Why was there snow?
Sitting up abruptly, my eyes opened wide as I found myself in my old bedroom in my grandmother’s cottage, which was about an hour from town, in winter maybe two. It was the place where my brother and I had grown up after our parents’ death.
Rubbing my temples, I realized it had happened again. And again, I hadn’t noticed. I had gone to bed in 2011. What year was it now?
Looking around the room, I detected nothing unusual. It looked the same as I’d left it after moving out. My grandmother had never changed it. She had always wanted us to feel at home when we came to visit.
There in the corner by the door stood a suitcase, yet unpacked, which meant that I didn’t live here anymore. It was only a visit. But that still didn’t tell me which year it was.
I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and headed down into the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked waffles finding me halfway down the stairs.
“There you are, sleepyhead,” came my grandma’s cheery voice. “Are you this tired from too much book-learning or partying?” she asked, putting the final touches on the breakfast table.
“Book-learning?” I frowned, sitting down at my usual spot.
She nodded. “With all the courses you’re taking I bet you don’t have a lot of time left for anything other than studying. Or is the workload less this semester?”
“This semester?” I repeated like a dummy. My eyes fell on the calendar pinned to the front of the fridge, and I grabbed the table for support.
Apparently, it was December 23rd, 2004.
“Are you all right?” my grandma asked, putting a hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever,” she stated. “Here, have something to eat. It’ll make you feel better.”
The door flew open, and Andy walked in, covered in snow. He grinned at me, putting the snow shovel by the door, and took off his boots. “Finally up, sleepyhead?”
I frowned at him. “What are you two? On the same cycle?”
“Keep those boots by the door,” my grandma instructed with a stern voice. “I don’t want no snow in my house.”
Obediently, Andy put his boots on the mat left out for that specific purpose. “Are there any waffles left for me?” he asked, sitting down.
“Don’t worry. I saved you some,” Grandma said. “But on second thought, maybe you shouldn’
t have any. You’re growing much too tall. What are you now? 6’8’’? 7’?”
Andy grinned. “5’9’’. But who’s counting? Pass the syrup, please.”
It was easy getting back into the old routine; and it felt wonderful. I had always loved Christmas in this house. It felt so distant from everything else. A little cottage far out by a lake, surrounded by trees and bushes and fields as far as the eye could see with only one unpaved road leading up to it. And right now, it was sugared with snow, gleaming in the sun.
But at the same time, I knew I shouldn’t be here. It might be my place, but not my time. Not anymore. And I had no idea what I was doing here or how I was supposed to get back to where or, better yet, when I belonged. Whenever that was? Right then and there, I wasn’t sure. Was 2011 really the time I belonged to? Or was it just right now the most up-to-date one I remembered?
Suddenly, another thought flashed across my mind. One that upset me deeply. I had been yanked out of 2011 before I had been able to hand in my review.
Would I ever get back and be able to actually write it? Or had I just missed my chance because time would move on without me? If I ever did, would I get back to a time after that event with no knowledge of what had happened in-between? However, so far there had been no gaps in my memory. That was comforting.
“Abby is going to come, right?” Andy asked, picking at his waffles.
“What?” I hadn’t been paying attention.
“Abby,” he repeated, avoiding my eyes. “She’ll spend Christmas with us, right? You said so.”
“Eh,” I started. For a moment, I was lost. However, as before my memories returned and were as clear as could be expected. “Yes. She’ll come. Her parents are in London arguing about who gets to keep what. She really doesn’t want to see them.”
Andy nodded, still looking at his plate. “Good.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking?”
He shook his head. “Just wanted to know.”
For a moment, I thought I spotted a faint blush darkening his face. Knowing what would happen with them down the road, I suddenly saw something I hadn’t seen before. At least not that I remembered. How could I have missed it? He had always liked her.
“Divorce is hard on everyone,” my grandma said, shaking her head. “How is Abby dealing with it? She must be devastated.”
“Actually, she doesn’t care all that much,” I said, knowing that my grandma wouldn’t understand. “Abby’s not that close to her parents. She never has been, and I think she doesn’t mind as long as they leave her alone and don’t bother her with their problems. She might seem feisty but she likes harmony as much as anyone…I guess.”
After breakfast, I dressed in the warmest clothes I could find and went outside. I needed to think, and the house felt a little too crowded. For a moment, I thought about saying something to Andy. However, he would have had no idea what I was talking about. I might remember our conversations about my time shifts because they were in my past but for him, they hadn’t happened yet.
The cold, clean air was incredibly refreshing, and except for a slight tingling sensation in my ears, I felt quite relaxed. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided on a longer walk and rounding the lake headed toward the village where I used to go to school. In the last ten years, not much had changed. However, technically that had been only four years ago and not ten.
The houses and streets were decorated with garlands and lights. Everything shone in green, red and gold. A smoky aroma hung in the air from the huge bonfire in town’s square that was traditionally lit every night for the last four nights before Christmas Day. So close to the big day, the streets were bustling with people, most of them doing some last minute shopping. I guess in that regard people were the same anywhere. Some things just didn’t change.
Walking up toward town’s square, I was actually swimming against the tide and had some trouble dodging people carrying huge bags of what I presumed to be presents. That they didn’t fall over from the weight seemed to be a miracle in itself.
Constantly muttering apologies for bumping or almost bumping into someone, I finally saw the yet unlit bonfire up ahead.
Coming around another group of shoppers sipping steaming cups of mulled wine, I slipped on a hidden patch of black ice and almost went down.
Fortunately, an arm caught me in the last minute.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you,” I mumbled, trying to get my feet back under me. When I looked up, the breath was once more knocked from my lungs though.
It was him.
He had taken hold of my elbow and pulled me back to my feet. As soon as I stood upright, he let go and just looked at me in this strange way that became more familiar every time I saw him.
Once more, there was that weird stillness settling over me, which like the ice on the road seemed to spread into every part of my body, making it impossible for me to set them in motion.
I stood there, frozen.
His eyes held mine, never venturing. Then he took a deep breath and closed them for just a moment before looking at me again. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, the words spoken carefully but with vehemence. To match, his eyes grew hard as though he was getting impatient with me.
Still unable to move, I started to say something. However, the moment I opened my mouth, another shopper slipped on the ice to my left. Having nothing else to hold on to but me, he grabbed my arm, pulling me down with him.
I hit the ground hard and let out a cry of pain. As did he.
Scrambling back up, he quickly apologized and helped me back to my feet. But when I turned back to the man, who again had appeared out of nothing, I found him nowhere to be seen. Once more, he had vanished into the same nothing he had come from.
And once again, frustration hit me. It was like a strange cycle we were stuck in. He would show up, then disappear before I could get anything out of him, leaving me feeling discouraged and somehow mentally exhausted until he would show up again. So far we had done this a couple of times, and it looked like nothing was going to change. At least not anytime soon.
I wondered why it was that we were always interrupted. Mostly he turned away and left. He would get my attention only to walk away. But sometimes it was like the world came between us, made me lose sight of him or keep me from getting to where he was. Just like today.
I wondered if there was a reason. Maybe we were not meant to meet. At least not for real.
Still looking at the spot where he had stood only a moment ago, I realized something else.
In the midst of our sudden encounter, it hadn’t occurred to me that seeing him here–in this time and place–meant that there had to be a connection between my time shifts and his appearances. Somehow the two were connected.
Maybe he caused the time shifts himself? But if that was true, then why would they affect me? Or maybe he was stuck in them just like I was? But if that was true, then it seemed very likely that we were experiencing the same time shifts. After all, he had been pulled back to 2004 as well.
Chapter Eleven – Family
I arrived home in time to see a cab carefully picking its way down the icy driveway and back onto the road. Leaving my wet boots on the mat by the door, I went into the living room where my grandmother was just hugging Abby.
“It’s so good to see you again, girl. I’ve missed you around here. Sometimes it gets awfully quiet.”
“Thanks again for letting me spend Christmas with you, Eleanor,” Abby said, her face flushed from the cold.
“Oh, think nothing of it,” my grandma replied. “You’re family any way.”
A relieved smile appeared on Abby’s face. “I’m just so glad I won’t have to deal with those arguing parents of mine. I mean they are trying on a normal day, but with the holidays and everything, I don’t think I could take any more of their bitching. One of us was bound to get hurt.” Grinning at me, she added, “I’m not so much worried about myself as I am about them. I’m not picky when it comes to
shutting them up.”
Coming down the stairs, my brother’s face seemed to light up a little upon seeing Abby. It was so strange that I’d never noticed that before.
“Hi, Abby, how was your trip?”
“Good.” She smiled at him cordially, then took my arm and pulled me back to the front door. “C’mon, you can help me unpack,” pointing to her bags, she spoke with a show master attitude, “but first it is your great privilege to assist your best friend in moving her very delicate possessions to the second floor.” An overly stretched camera grin appeared on her face.
In all honesty, she looked like she was possessed or something.
“Let me do that,” Andy said, sneaking up from behind, and before we could say anything, he was already halfway up the stairs.
“Perfect,” Abby marveled. “Little brothers do seem to come in handy sometimes. Maybe I should get one for myself, what do you think?” We followed her luggage upstairs. “Or would you mind sharing yours?”
I caught a glimpse of Andy’s face. He didn’t seem all too pleased with her comment.
Andy put her bags in my room, and when he hesitated by the door, Abby said, “I’d tip you, but I’m a little short on cash.” Nothing new there.
Without another word, my brother disappeared into his own room.
I had to admit I felt a little sorry for him. Should I ever get back to my own time, I’d ask him for how long he’d been carrying the Abby-torch.
“So, who gets to sleep in the bed?” Abby asked, eyeing the twin bed warily. “There’s no way we’d both fit into it.”
“How about you take it—”
Clapping her hands, she said, “Oh, goodie. Now, we’re talking!”
I held up a hand to put the brakes on her enthusiasm. “Wait a second! Would you let me finish?”
Frowning, she shook her head. “Not if it ends badly for me.”
