Time-Travel Duo

by James Paddock

  Car headlights showed along the road and without thinking she dropped flat on the ground. She laid and shook both from the cold seeping up from the ground and from the fear of the slithering thing coming back to feast on her blood. She definitely should have stayed in the warm back seat.

  A truck rumbled by. There was no way she was going to lie there and wait for more slithering things to happen by. She jumped to her feet and bolted into a dead run. She would rather take her chances on the road than with the snakes.

  Something burst from the bush near the water’s edge not six feet away and she almost jumped into the field. A Blue Heron rose and flew back the way she had come. It landed and Anne patted her chest, willing her heart to slow down. What next? An alligator? Don’t even think about it. Just keep going.

  Ten yards from the road, she slowed and eased her way forward. At four yards she dropped to a crouch. If a car came along there was no way to hide. She eased forward until she could see all the way up and down the road, but it was just dark enough that she could not see if Bronson’s car was still sitting in front of Southern Carolina Used Furniture. Maybe he drove down that path behind the building expecting that was where she had gone, using his headlights to look for her, probably waking people.

  In the other direction, there seemed to be more homes, businesses. There also appeared to be a track of houses on the other side, about a half-mile down.

  A half-mile.

  She could get there on the run in less than five minutes. If he were looking in the fields, he would be much longer than that. She started running on the highway, glancing back every few seconds for lights. A dirt road dropped off across from her going into the trees. She didn’t notice it until she heard a truck engine start. A few seconds later headlights appeared from out of the trees.

  I could wave down a ride, she thought. Can’t be Bronson. But what if it turns out to be some guy who would think to take advantage of a woman wandering around in her nightclothes.

  She dropped down off the road and lay on her stomach. A truck pulled up onto the highway and then stopped. Anne heard a door open and then steps on the road.

  “Do you need help, Miss?”

  Anne turned her head and looked up. All she could see against the truck lights was the silhouette of a big man. “Please leave me alone.”

  “Let me talk to her. You’re scaring her, Fritz.” A woman stepped up beside him. “Go back to the truck.” Without question he got in the truck and closed the door. To Anne she said, “Let us help you.”

  Anne came up on one knee. “Where am I? How far is it to Charleston?”

  “It’s about five miles. That’s where we’re going – taking a load to the market. Let us take you there. You’re going to come down with the croup ifin you stay out here.”

  Anne looked down the road toward were she knew Bronson probably was, realized if she argued for too long he might see and know. Besides, this didn’t sound like that bad a deal.

  “Whatever you’re running away from, we don’t care.” The woman stepped toward her off the road and offered her hand. Anne saw she was older, fifties maybe, round pleasant face.

  “Thank you.” She looked down the road one more time, and then accepted the hand. Just before getting into the truck after the woman she glanced down the road again. No sign.

  “Let’s go, Fritz,” the woman ordered. “Whoever she’s scared of is not far away.”

  Anne clamored in beside her.

  “Am I right?” she asked Anne.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Myrtle. This is my husband, Fritz.”

  The truck accelerated. Anne bent forward to look in the mirror. She couldn’t see anything.

  “There’s no one back there,” Fritz said. “No lights at all.”

  Anne looked at Fritz and then at Myrtle. She smiled and said, “Thank you. My life was in danger.”

  “I’m sure it was, Dear, for you to be out in the middle of the night dressed like that. You’re shivering.”

  Anne looked down at herself. Her nightgown was covered with grass, dirt and probably snake and alligator slime. “God, I’m a mess.” She looked at her benefactors. “I live near Colonial Lake. You can drop me off by the hospital and I can walk from there.”

  “Like that? Not on your life. We’ll take you right to your door. Or will he find you there?”

  “The house I board in is owned by a police officer. I’ll be fine.”

  While they talked, Myrtle took off her coat and put it around Anne. “It takes a while for the truck to heat up. This’ll help.”

  “You’re being awfully kind.”

  “Nothin’ awful about it. We’ve a daughter almost your age with man problems. We know how it is. With her it’s those Navy boys. They come and then go and never write. Her heart’s been broken over and over. She lives in Charleston, too. Works in the yard. Is yours a Navy guy?”

  Anne shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.” She could tell that Myrtle was waiting for something more – a satisfaction of her curiosity as to why a woman would be trying to hide in the weeds along side the highway with nothing on but a flimsy nightgown and two pairs of socks. “It’s terribly complicated and something I really can’t talk about. You’re being so kind you deserve more than that but...”

  “Never you mind, Dear. You don’t have to tell us nothin’. It’s enough for us to know we can get you somewhere you feel safe. This is kind of our way of paying back. Ashley, that’s our daughter, got in trouble once and a nice man come to her aid, brought her right to our door. He never asked any questions and we never got his name. That’s just the way it is sometimes. People helping people and wanting nothin’ in return. Ain’t that right, Fritz?”

  “That’s right, Myrtle.”

  Anne felt the shivers die away under the heavy coat. She got lucky. Twice now. Would she be lucky a third time? And she can’t endanger Ruth and James anymore. Next time he may use something stronger than ether – like a gun. She smiled her appreciation at Fritz and Myrtle and saw the Ashley River Bridge up ahead. Now she knew where she was. They passed across onto the peninsula and Anne gave them directions. Just before they slowed to make the first turn, she spotted James coming up the street on Roger.

  “Stop! Stop! That’s James, my police friend.” The truck jerked to a halt and Anne flew out. James was off of Roger when she threw herself into his arms. “Oh, God it’s good to see you.”

  “What...?”

  “I was kidnapped.”

  He pulled her aside and started for the old couple, now both standing outside their truck.

  “No! No! Not them. They helped me get away.” She lowered her voice. “Bronson got me... with the ether again.”

  James stopped and looked at her.

  “He trapped me in my bedclothes. I couldn’t fight. I woke up later and managed to escape while he was changing a flat tire. These people gave me a ride.” The couple walked up closer. “James, this is Fritz and Myrtle. If they hadn’t come along, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “Thank you,” James said and shook their hands.

  “James!” Anne said, “I don’t know about Mom or Elizabeth Anne!”

  James’ eyes got big. “Get on.”

  “Wait!” Anne pulled off the coat and handed it to Myrtle and gave her and Fritz each a hug and a kiss. “Thank you.” She then turned to James, who without apparent effort, lifted her onto Roger and then swung himself up behind her.

  Fritz and Myrtle stood for a long time staring at the corner where the horse and riders turned and disappeared. Finally Myrtle turned around. “Got to get going... Fritz!”

  He looked at his wife. “What?”

  “Get that ‘I just got kissed by a pretty young woman with hardly any clothes on’ grin off your face and let’s go.”

  He put his arm around her and laughed. “You think she’ll be all right?”

  “Not really our business anymore. But, yes, I think she’s in safe hands now.”

&
nbsp; Anne leaned forward with her arms around Roger, first to feel his heat, second to not fall off. Roger was the only horse she had ever ridden and that was up and down the street a few times, nothing like this. She could feel James’ legs pressing against her thighs, the heat of his hands on her waist, her nightgown riding up on her hips and her nakedness pressing against the horseflesh. She also felt another heat deep in her center and then, briefly she felt ashamed before it was driven out by a wave... a wave of something that kept running through her... over and over. Oh God! Oh God! She wanted to scream. She clamped her mouth closed so as not to cry out and fought the urge to rock her hips down against Roger’s body, or back against James. And then she felt something else, something hard pressing against her, under her. Somehow she realized it was the saddle horn. That it wasn’t James was both a relief and a disappointment. She channeled the raw, sexual, exploding energy into her arms and legs and fought the urge to press herself back against the horn. Did James have any idea what was happening to her?

  Suddenly Roger stopped, and Anne released her grip as James pulled her from the horse. She was glad to be carried because there was no way she was going to be able to stand. She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, and felt the waves and shudders die away. He set her down long enough to unlock the door and then carried her inside.

  “Mom!” He yelled. He laid Anne on the sofa.

  Anne looked at his bandaged hand. “I’m sorry.”

  He turned and ran up the stairs. “Mom!”

  Anne felt like a rag doll, abandoned for another toy. It was as though every bone had been turned to cotton stuffing. And it wasn’t the ether or the run through the woods or lying in the weeds in a flimsy nightgown shivering from the cold, wet night air. It was the ride, the last few minutes. Where the hell did that come from? One minute she’s running for her life, and the next her body decides it’s time for a sexual release – no – not a release. An explosion – a spontaneous orgasmic explosion. Sex with Steven was good – but never had she ever felt sensations such as those while on the back of James’ horse with his thighs and hands on her.

  “I didn’t hear nothing,” Ruth exclaimed as she came rushing down the stairs. She dropped down next to Anne and threw her arms around her. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I can’t believe he was actually in here.”

  “Elizabeth Anne,” Anne said. “Please check on Elizabeth.”

  “She’s fine.” James appeared with the baby in his arms and settled into the big chair. “She was sound asleep. She and Mom slept through it all.”

  “I’m not surprised. He only wanted me and the last thing he needed was for Elizabeth Anne to start crying.” One last shudder rattled through her. Wasted. She felt exhausted, wasted, dirty inside and out, and most of all, ashamed.

  “You’re shaking. My gosh! You must be frozen – out in this thin fabric. I’ll go run you a hot bath.”

  A hot bath sounded good, she told Ruth, who then practically ran up the stairs. Anne tried standing, felt her knees buckle, and then James’ hand under her elbow. Another surge ran from his fingertips. God! Is this going to stop or what?

  “I’ll carry you up,” James said.

  “No!” Anne almost shouted it. “I’ve got to get my legs back under me. Thank you though. You’ve got Elizabeth and you’ve done enough already.”

  “All I did was bring you home, and it looks like the ride shook you up more than anything.”

  You’ve no idea, James Lamric.

  “This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t cut my hand and not finished searching the attic.”

  “Maybe... maybe not. He might not have even been in the attic.”

  “He was. He left the attic door open.”

  “And so if you had seen him, he would have had the element of surprise and you probably would be dead, or hurt. I certainly couldn’t live with that.”

  And so Anne enjoyed the hot bath and the constant hovering of Ruth making sure everything was okay, all the time trying to figure out how she would tell this woman she so comfortably calls Mom, that she should not spend the night here any more. Twice she endangered them. Bronson doesn’t know where the cabin is, or else he would have grabbed her there instead of in the city. Only a few more weeks. Before Thanksgiving, Steven said. And then she’ll be home.

  If it works.

  The books made it.

  By the time she finished with her bath, the yellow light of day was starting to filter in the windows. She felt exhausted but not ready to lie down. She wasn’t even sure she could force sleep. She walked into the kitchen to find Ruth bustling about.

  “How about a little breakfast and then up to bed?” Ruth said.

  “Don’t know if I can sleep.”

  “You have to.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Breakfast does sound good.” Anne’s stomach growled at the thought.

  “Five minutes, then. Got some more hot cocoa for you.”

  Anne picked up the warm mug and stood at the back door looking down at the rabbit. “You’re next, Fluffy. In three days you go home.” And then what? Am I next? Or will they want a dog? And then what? How many tests before they deem it safe and ready for Elizabeth Anne and me? Why so much time in between tests?

  Of course she knew the reason. They need time to analyze every piece of data with a scientific magnifying glass. Never, ever introduce a human subject until you’ve done everything possible to be certain the success factor and risk factor reside on opposite ends of the scale. Ideally, the chances of success should be 100% and failure 0%. The ideal never exists so where does she lay on that scale?

  You and I both made it one direction, Fluffy, or should I call you Charlie now? Other than my initial memory loss and confusion, I’ve had no health problems. How about you, Fluffy-Charlie? Have you experienced any ill effects?

  Chapter 57

  Saturday ~ November 6, 1943

  “Anne!”

  Anne could hear the voice as though it was filtered through a ball of cotton.

  “Anne, dear!”

  Someone is touching me. “No!” My hands – trapped – get them out – kick – kick him off. Get-a-way, get-a-way.

  “Anne... Anne. It’s me.”

  No! No! Me who? “No!” Hands free. “No!” Grab him.

  “Anne... it’s me, Ruth... Mother. Wake up.”

  Mother? Anne relaxed, becoming vaguely aware she was coming out of what seemed to be a drug induced sleep, but there were no drugs. She opened her eyes. “Mom!”

  Ruth ran her hand over Anne’s forehead, brushing hair from her eyes. “You must have been having a bad dream.”

  The sleep fog gradually lifted. “I don’t know. I was tangled in something. Couldn’t get my hands free.” She turned her head to look out the window. Lots of blue sky. “What time is it?”

  “Almost 10:00 dear.”

  She pulled back the covers, swung her feet to the floor and looked at the crib. “Where’s Elizabeth?”

  “Sarah, Marie and Heather are entertaining her.”

  “They’re here already?”

  “Danny had some unexpected business to attend to so he dropped them off first. Don’t go frettin’ yourself. They’re fine. They know they’re early. I told them you were up real late and wanted to sleep until they got here.”

  Anne started to stand and then sat back down. “Oh, my God! My legs feel like I ran a marathon.”

  “Marathon?”

  Anne laughed. “Another of our favorite pastimes come the 1980s – running marathons. Twenty-six point two miles.”

  Ruth blinked a couple times. “Why?”

  Anne thought about that for a few seconds. “I have no idea. Because it’s there, I guess. You wouldn’t catch me doing it, that’s for sure. That and bungee jumping.”

  “What is that?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Anne said laughing and rolling her eyes.

  By the time Anne got down
stairs, Elizabeth Anne was announcing her hunger and Anne’s breasts where feeling fuller with each cry. While Elizabeth nursed, they talked of what they would do today.

  “Girls’ day out,” Anne called it and they all liked that.

  “No boys,” Marie happily announced.

  “Yeah. Just us,” Heather declared.

  “I’ll be glad when I can do that,” Sarah said.

  Anne raised her eyebrows at this half developed young teenager. “I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean.”

  “Nursing a baby. I can’t wait until I can do that.”

  Heather and Marie looked at their older sister and then at Anne, obviously anxious to hear what her response to Sarah would be.

  What was it she read about parenting when questions or comments of this nature came up? Parents have a tendency to over answer or over explain. When a child asks how far it is to the moon, don’t explain the creation of the universe, the book said. If they pop up and say they want to be a policeman, don’t go into a fifteen-page job description spouting the whys or why-nots. So, how does she respond to such a statement? Recommend to Danny that he put a chastity belt on his oldest daughter until she’s twenty? Whatever you do, don’t disagree with a thirteen-year-old.

  “Why?” Anne finally said.

  “Because it seems very pleasant. I don’t want to do the sex part or have a baby part. That’s yucky and painful. I just like the idea of being able to feed the baby. It seems so warm and cuddly.”

  “You mean having a human life totally dependent upon you? You’re the center of its life?”

  “Yeah. That too, I guess.”

  “Well, I have to agree. Unfortunately, it comes with the yucky part. The nice thing about the yucky part is it’s not so yucky when you’re married. The having the baby part – you’ve seen your mother do it enough to know how painful it is.”

  Sarah nodded her head.

  “Why does she keep doing it?”

  “She likes kids.”

  Anne looked down at Elizabeth Anne on her breast. “This is worth all the pain – when you’re married. If you’re not married, your entire life turns yucky.” Anne looked up at Ruth who was watching with interest how Anne handled the question. She sensed her adopted mother’s approval and then said, “So, where are we going today?”