Time-Travel Duo

by James Paddock

  She stared at the blinking cursor while running her conversation with Beth through her head, and wondered if she truly would have listened if someone had said the same thing to her. Was it even good advice? What other advice was there to give?

  Support him or walk. That’s what I said to her. What would you have done if I’d said it was me or the Marines? I’m sort of glad you can’t answer that. What would I have done if Beth had said to me, support him or walk? I would have flat out ignored her because I would have been scared of losing you.

  How ironic. I lost you anyway.

  Annie stared at the blinking cursor for a long time, and then wrote again,

  I lost you anyway.

  She saved and closed the journal, then closed the computer and watched the blue lights on the front until one turned yellow and started its slow blinking, indicating the computer had gone to sleep. Then she put it aside, turned off the light and slid under the heavy blankets. She closed her eyes but it was some time before the images of her angry and final moments with Tony faded from her mind and she drifted into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 13

  May 29, 2007

  Annie’s eyes popped open looking directly at the clock. 4:53. She rolled to her back and thought about the conversation with Beth, and her restless night. She had awakened the first time—sat straight up in bed—just after midnight with one statement she had made to Beth running through her head. It had awakened her a half dozen more times. Each time she forced it away and fell back asleep, but it wasn’t good sleep. Her subconscious never stopped working it and, as a result, she was exhausted.

  The words she had uttered were strictly to make a point. No rational human being would consider the statement serious. Until midnight, neither had she. It was like saying, “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” Everyone knows it would be impossible to eat a horse, just as everyone knows it would be impossible to do what she had suggested; except, it had been done, nearly 20 years before, leading to her own birth 44 years early. The first four months of her life were spent in 1943, until her mother managed to return her to the time in which she belonged, only to die in the attempt to do the same for herself. Until two weeks ago Annie assumed that it would never be done again. Then came the meeting with Professor Grae and her grandfather where she declared that if it was going to be done again it would be without her help or her blessing.

  Now that she was awake her rational side could take over and tell her subconscious to let it go. But try as she might the vision of her and Tony arguing just out of earshot of the line of people waiting to go through airport security wouldn’t allow her rational side to let go. Beth had stirred it up and now, like a bad song with a catchy rhythm, it kept rolling around in her head.

  The bedside alarm went off. She slapped it quiet and then sat on the edge of the bed and willed her warm feet to overcome the cold floor.

  She thought about a movie she had seen recently. The title was The Note. After a fight between a young woman and her father, the plane her father was later on crashed and he was killed. She had said some terrible things and was racked with guilt because of it. Her father, knowing that he was about to die, penned a quick note to her that said that he forgave her. It eventually found its way into her hands, and all was well. Tony had written no such note. Is that because he didn’t forgive her, or because he didn’t get around to writing it before the roadside bomb ended his life? He didn’t have the few extra minutes that the father had to take care of final business. What would he have done if he had? Would he have thought of it? Did their argument twist in his stomach as much as it did in hers? In the split second between the time the bomb went off and he died, did he think, “How ironic?”

  Concluding that her feet were never going to warm the floor, she rushed down the stairs, turned up the heat, flipped on the coffee maker she had readied the night before, and then stepped into the shower. She put her forehead against the shower wall and with the water pounding on her back thought about the words that she said to Beth.

  I’d give anything to go back and unsay the things that I said to Tony.

  She shook her head. “No! It’s not right. I won’t take the chance of screwing something else up. And neither should professor Grae.”

  It wasn’t like she’d never thought of it before. For a while she actually dreamed that she would find a way to go back and meet her mother. That was until she started to understand the danger of traveling back in time. In the four months that her mother lived in 1943, what effect did she have on history? She would be the only one to know, and she died upon her return. When Annie was sixteen she became obsessed with the idea of going back, and then with how it could cause a wrinkle in time. She started reading everything she could find on the subject, becoming especially fascinated with the grandfather theory. It was so ironic because the jest of the theory was what would happen if someone traveled back in time and killed her grandfather before he could sire her father? She would not be born. If so then she could not have existed to go back and kill her grandfather, which means she would be born. The irony of it was that Annie’s mother did go back in time, but instead of killing her grandfather, she saved his life by taking his bullet, which eventually led to her own death. If she hadn’t have been born to go back in time to save his life, he would have died which would have been the reason she wouldn’t have been born to begin with. This twist on the theory had Annie’s mind spinning for months before she came to the conclusion that time travel was dangerous. It was as unpredictable as a bomb with a hair trigger.

  The water went from hot to warm. Annie turned it off and got out.

  By the time she was dressed and had her travel mug filled with coffee, Annie had finally put the thoughts of Tony and time travel aside and started working on how many layers of clothing to add to go sit by the river with Mary and Richard. She pulled a sweater on over her head just as Mary’s knock came at her door.

  It wasn’t nearly as cold as Annie thought it would be. She sat on a fallen tree next to Mary, sipping her coffee. Richard had wandered off to look at something fifty yards or so downriver. It was twenty minutes past sunrise and they had seen nothing more than a bunch of birds. Still, the morning was beautiful: dead calm, clear sky, all the snow from the morning before was gone and the temperature was above forty degrees. Annie was scanning the trees on the other side of the river in anticipation of movement other than birds when Mary broke not only the silence, but also the mood.

  “Your husband was Tony Caschetta. He died in Iraq February fifth.”

  Annie looked at Mary, but didn’t say anything.

  “I’m sorry but I couldn’t help thinking about what that man said at the sports shop yesterday. Richard knows people and made some calls last night; found that it was true. My heart aches for you.”

  Now Annie understood the pat on Mary’s knee just before Richard stood and walked away. They had both been acting strange.

  “I understand your need to keep it a secret. You came here to escape the memories, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Annie said softly.

  “And every time you turn around there he is.”

  “Not so much there he is as,” Annie bit down on her emotions, “I wish he was here so I could share this with him.”

  “Amounts to the same empty feelings though, doesn’t it?”

  Annie nodded.

  “I know that feeling all too much.”

  Annie looked up at Richard who was peering down into the water, and then back at Mary.

  “Richard and I went through a rough time twelve years ago. We had a son, William, our only child. He hit a deer one night on his way to spend Christmas with us. It was icy and he lost control. He was in a coma for eight days before he died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “His fiancée, who we were to meet for the first time, was with him. She also died. She was carrying our grandchild . . . their Christmas surprise.”

  Annie put her hand on Mary’s.

/>   “You can’t escape the memories,” Mary added with a catch in her voice. “You can only keep your mind busy. I prayed for a long time for God to come and take me. Now I pray that when our time has come Richard and I are taken together so that neither of us has to go through the loss again. He’s been my rock.”

  “I’m sure you have been his,” Annie said.

  “Yes. You’re probably right about that. Who’s been your rock?”

  Annie had to think about that for a full minute. She wiped away a tear, a movement she hardly thought about anymore. “My dad, I guess. He tried to be there for me, but I don’t think he knew how.”

  “You probably pushed him away.”

  Annie thoughtfully tilted her head at Mary. “Yeah. I guess maybe I did.”

  “It’s normal, but I sure don’t know why. Richard and I pushed each other away at first, and then somehow, probably out of stubbornness, found our way back.” She wiped away a couple of her own tears. “Now you and I know each other’s secret.”

  “I won’t tell yours if you don’t tell mine.”

  “That’s a deal.” Mary thought for a minute and took a deep, end-of-cry breath. “What I want to know is how the bloke at the sports shop found out about your husband and the fact that you attend MIT.”

  “Bloke?”

  “Sorry, Dear. Me British showing again. Thirty years we’ve been in the states and still talk like we’re fresh off the tram.”

  Annie squeezed her hand. “I like it.”

  “Then bloke he is. The whole thing is a bit dodgy I’d say. That’s not normal information one could quickly get from a credit card number. Maybe they could infer from your address and your age that you might be at university, but how would they figure MIT?”

  “They wouldn’t run a scam based on a wild guess, would they?”

  “I can’t imagine. Could they have found out on the Internet?”

  Annie considered and then said, “Yes, they could. There was a Boston Herald article when Tony died that named me and the fact that I was a Cambridge resident and attended MIT. It even had my picture. One search could have pulled that easily.”

  “Then there you go.”

  “But why? What are they expecting to gain? Were they hoping I’d just hand them a briefcase full of money? Do I look that naive? And how do they know if I have any money? They may have been able to find out where I’m from, but that’s it. There’s no way they could find out how much I’m worth that fast. It would take some serious research if they could find out at all.”

  “I’m really not being nosy, just curious, if there’s a difference between the two; are you really worth that much?”

  Annie smiled at Mary. “Yes; I am.”

  “How much?” Mary immediately put up her hand. “Never mind. That’s being way too nosy for sure. I’m sorry. It must be nice, though.” Mary looked down the river. “What’s Richard waving at?”

  Annie looked as Richard’s waving arm became a point, and then turned her gaze up river. “Look! It’s Beauty and Bambi.” The doe and her fawn stood on the riverbank less than a hundred feet away.

  “How beautiful! And such perfect names?”

  “I saw them the first minute I was here, at the pond when I pulled in. Ruth told me their names.”

  Richard joined them, and then the three watched the animals until they reentered the forest. For some time they sat looking into the trees as though expecting Beauty and Bambi’s return, each in their own thoughts and memories.

  “Well,” Richard said, pushing to his feet with an effort seeming to indicate more age than when he sat down. “Another beautiful morning.” He looked at Annie. “Did you get some good pictures?”

  Annie looked down at the camera hanging around her neck. “No. I forgot.”

  Richard laughed. “You’ll make a hell of a photographer. It’s an hour yet until breakfast. Let’s go for a walk. Maybe we’ll see something else that you can forget to take pictures of.”

  Annie punched his shoulder and leaped to her feet. For some reason she suddenly felt good. Her first thought was that it had to do with Beauty and Bambi, and then she realized that they were only part of it. It was being able to talk about Tony, but it was even more than that. She had talked about Tony with Beth and her dad, but it never made her feel like this. As a matter of fact, with Mikhail intent on joining the Marines, talking to Beth only made her feel worse, violently worse. With Mary it was a comfort in knowing that she was no longer alone in her grief, that she had found someone who truly understood, someone who had been there, survived and wore the badge. Was it all right to be happy and sad at the same time?

  Richard turned to help Mary to her feet. Annie grabbed his arm. “Wait! Sit back down. I want your picture. And turn around so that the river is behind you.”

  They did so and sat with their arms around each other, smiling like a couple of young lovers. After fiddling with the camera and remembering to remove the lens cap, Annie took three pictures. Richard then took the camera from her so that she could sit with Mary, followed by Mary taking pictures of her and Richard. When all the photographs were done, Annie gave Mary a hug. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 14

  June 3, 2007

  My Dear Tony,

  So much for my vow to keep up with my journal. It is already Sunday night, the end of my seventh full day here and this is only my second entry. I promise to get better.

  Beth is still mad at me. She hasn’t listened to anything I’ve said and I’ve called her every day. That’s no easy feat since I have to drive almost all the way into Columbia Falls for cell phone reception and then have to find a place where I can be completely alone in case I get that attack again. Fortunately the Marines put Mikhail off for a while. He won’t be able to sign up until late July. I pray that he changes his mind. If he doesn’t Beth will have to come to her senses. Every time I talk to her I come away depressed, but so far it hasn’t been as bad as that day at Safeway. I’m not going to call her now for another week at least.

  Haven’t seen Brad since Monday, but that ugly eyesore truck of his isn’t gone. Maybe, like me, he is off on vacation and didn’t take his truck. Not a very big loss. He is too weird.

  Went shopping again with Mary. I never believed that running around with an older person would be so much fun. I really like Richard, too. I sometimes have the urge to call Mary, Mom, but Richard I’d like to call Granddad. He’s a lot more interesting than Grandfather Hair. They have such a strange way of saying things. Tonight; Richard said, “Off to spend a penny,” then got up and left. I asked Mary what he meant and she said, “Off to the loo, dear.” I knew what loo meant, but never really believed anyone ever said it. They are so funny. One reason I like them is because we have one thing in common, losing someone we love. Their son died twelve years ago. They still mourn, but they’ve survived. They are good people. I love Mary.

  Went up and checked email a little while ago. Haven’t used dialup since I was a kid. How can anyone possibly do anything? Might as well write a letter and drop it in a mailbox. And forget surfing and blogging.

  Only two emails from Beth, both from before I started talking to her on the phone about Mikhail. That tells you how mad she is at me and how long it’s been since I’ve checked email. I know. That’s not like me. I checked Beth’s blog. It has a lot of long entries. She’s writing to the entire world, but not to me.

  Had a strange email from Grandfather Hair. He gave me a set of satellite coordinates, told me to get a GPS, and added some gibberish about codes. That’s all he said. What do I want with a GPS? Got one in my car I hardly ever use. You liked it because of the sexy voice. Wonder if I can get the voice changed? I could make it your voice. That way you’d always be with me and it’d be like old times. You could tell me to turn and I could ignore you. It’d be even better because you wouldn’t argue with me.

  Annie thought she heard a noise. She set her computer aside, got up, and looked between the blinds. Too dark to see anything, sh
e opened the door and poked her head out. All she could see was the night light in front of some of the other cabins and the campfire reflecting off the back of the lodge. That was curious because she was the last one to leave, outside of Chuck, and at that time the fire was but a few glowing embers. She started to step back in and then looked again. The flicker of firelight was momentarily broken by a person’s shadow. She shrugged and closed the door. After getting resettled she read what she had written, wiped the back of her hand across her cheek and started typing again.

  A sigh and a tear. God I miss you, Tony. I really would rather have you here to argue with.

  I thought of putting Grandfather’s coordinates in Google Earth just to see where it was, but with dialup I might as well watch grass grow. I was lucky to be able to see Beth’s blog.

  There was also an email from dad saying that cop was by looking for me again. Officer Worley. I swear I haven’t seen Mrs. Williams since that last time. He gave me a warning already so that should be it, right? He can’t change his mind, can he? What is he going to do anyway, make me go back to Cambridge for court? I don’t think so! Dad thinks it was a personal visit because he introduced himself as Jeff Worley instead of Officer Worley, and was not in uniform. Like what is he talking about? Does Jeff Worley want a date or something? Get in line!

  That’s funny. What line?

  At least another week before Glacier Park opens. It depends on the weather. I can’t believe there could still be that much snow up there. Found a different place to shop for outdoor stuff. The Sportman & Ski Haus in Kalispell. Didn’t buy anything except a collapsible walking stick with a compass and flashlight on top. Don’t know how practical it is, but it is cool. You’d like it. The guy I talked to there said that hiking in Glacier Park will be limited for a little while until all the snow melts off. I’ll stick to the lower elevation trails for a while. Besides, I’m kind of wondering how I’ll handle higher elevations. I’ve spent my entire life at sea level.