by Diane Darcy
Even in the dim light she saw it was covered with hand-drawn moons in various stages of lunar phase, dates written beside each one. At the bottom was a time line, with more dates written in. He’d worked really hard on this project.
He cleared his throat importantly. “Okay, do I have a story for you. Here’s the deal. Blue moons happen,” he turned on the flashlight and pointed the beam at his notes on the table. “I mean, they occur when there are two full moons in the same month. Usually on the first and the thirty-first day of the month. Any questions so far?” He looked at Melissa.
Keeping her gaze squarely on him to avoid looking at the moon, she shook her head.
Richard raised a hand. “I have a question.”
Jeremy looked delighted and Melissa wished she’d thought of one. “Yes?”
“How often do blue moons occur, and can they be predicted?”
Jeremy pointed to some dates on the time line. “They don’t happen very often. Usually every two-and-a-half years or even longer. That’s why there’s the expression ‘once in a blue moon’ because they don’t take place very often. But they can be predicted. And see these dates at the bottom? These are the dates the last fifty blue moons happened. I memorized them for extra credit on my project. Do you want to hear me recite them?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “No way. We’ll be here all night. Just tell me how come blue moons aren’t blue?”
“Well, the moon actually can look blue if there’s a large volcanic eruption or if there is a big forest fire or something. The ash or smoke disrupt--”
”That’s not what I asked, dummy. I asked why the blue moon isn’t blue.”
“Because it’s just an expression, stupid.”
“Kids,” Richard’s tone held reproof.
Jeremy shook his head. “Okay, now everyone look at the moon. I want you to notice how big it looks.”
Melissa froze, her gaze automatically going to the ground.
Jeremy sighed. “Mom, you’re not looking.”
Again she was gripped by sudden, inexplicable dread. She knew she was being unreasonable. She’d made it out here just fine, hadn’t she? She was already sitting in the moonlight, wasn’t she? Slowly, very slowly, she forced herself to look up at the moon.
The white orb was bright, very clear, the craters visible. She gazed at it, and slowly relaxed. Why, it was beautiful; and everything was fine. There was nothing here to fear and to prove it to herself, she tried to close her eyes, to look away. She couldn’t.
Fear exploded, harsher than before; dizziness gripped her hard, and her stomach started to heave as her heart pounded violently in her chest. Still she couldn’t look away.
Making an inarticulate noise, she grabbed for Richard, but he fell to his knees and out of her reach and she missed him. She tried to speak, but her throat was tight and no sound escaped. In her peripheral vision, she saw Jessica and Jeremy fall to their knees.
The moon. All she could see was the moon. It pulsated, called to her, pulled at her, at her stomach, at her very soul.
She pushed past the tightness in her throat and screamed, could hear her children screaming. Her children. Anguish ripped through her. She should have warned them; why hadn’t she warned them?
Richard yelled her name and she fought as hard as she could, fought to look away as the moon increased in size then hurtled toward her.
Everything went white, and she plummeted.
* * *
Melissa woke slowly, head pounding, mouth dry as sawdust, bright sunlight stinging her eyes, and every muscle in her body throbbing. She must have stayed up all night again and fallen asleep at her desk.
She groaned. She needed to get up and get going; get to work. She had a lot to do today. Had she accomplished any work last night? Or did she need to play catch up today? She couldn’t remember; couldn’t seem to concentrate.
Something wasn’t right. She was cold, and something was poking her cheek. Some kind of material? Carpet? Oh baby, she was in worse shape than she’d thought if she’d fallen asleep on the floor.
Turning to her other side, away from the bright light, she tried to force her eyes open, but they felt glued shut. And what was that earthy smell? Apparently she needed to have Claudia call the carpet cleaners in.
Slowly she focused on what looked like long, wheat-colored...grass? She blinked several times, then rolled onto her back. More grass rustled beneath her, tangled in her short hair and stuck up a foot or more out of the ground in all directions. She turned her head, still unable to comprehend what she was seeing, and the sun hit her full in the face.
Wincing, she lifted an arm to block the rays. What was going on? Why was she lying on the ground? She hurriedly brushed at what felt like a bug crawling on her face and, grimacing, quickly sat up, speared her fingers into her hair and felt for more bugs.
She glanced around, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Richard, Jessica and Jeremy lay sprawled on the ground nearby. She shook her head to try and clear it. Why was her entire family lying in a field? “Richard?”
Richard groaned, turned over, then lay still.
Panic built inside her, but she pushed it down. It wouldn’t do any good to panic. She needed to stay in control and figure out what was going on.
She glanced around but didn’t recognize the place. They seemed to be lying in a huge field out in the middle of nowhere, not a building in sight.
Again, she fought the panic pushing at her. How had they arrived there? The last thing she remembered was listening to Jeremy’s presentation in the back yard and the moon...the moon had...done something.
Fear tightened her chest. Melissa lifted her gaze, squinted against the harsh glare of the sun and searched the heavens. No moon in sight. She rubbed her eyes, glad to block out her surroundings, and took a deep breath. She could control the fear. She wouldn’t give in to panic. Richard would have a logical explanation for everything. She dropped her hands onto her lap. “Richard.” She hissed his name.
He moaned, but didn’t wake.
Breathe. She needed to breathe.
Melissa crawled across the grass and shook him. She would not panic. There was a reason they were in this field. Richard knew what it was and would tell her. She shook him again, harder. He still didn’t wake. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a huge breath of air. Perhaps panic had its place after all. “Richard!”
* * *
Richard jackknifed into a sitting position. “What? What’s wrong?” Wild-eyed, he glanced around, unable to comprehend where he was. He seemed to be in a field.
Confused, he focused on Melissa, who looked crazed, her makeup smeared, hair and grass sticking out in all directions around her head. He could see the kids on the ground not far behind her.
He blinked, then rubbed both hands over his face. Was he dreaming? “What’s going on? Where are we?”
At his questions, Melissa looked like she might cry. She shook her head.
Richard looked at the kids again, lying lifeless. Adrenaline kicked him hard in the gut and he scrambled across the grass and shook them.
Jeremy mumbled, and Jessica stretched and yawned. Relief rushed through him, leaving him shaky. For a moment he’d thought they were dead. That Melissa was upset because they were dead. He blew out a breath and willed his heart to decelerate. What a way to wake up in the morning.
The kids sat up, looking startled as they took in their surroundings.
Jeremy glanced up. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know yet.” Richard stood, surveyed the area and his fingers clenched. What was going on?
Jessica whimpered. “Dad?”
“It’s okay, pumpkin. Just sit there for a minute while I figure this out.”
Melissa gazed up at him. “Richard. How did we get here?” She sounded calm, but like she was barely holding onto her sanity.
Richard gritted his teeth and forced his breathing to slow, forced himself to study his surroundings; to think. How had they g
otten here? They’d been outside watching Jeremy’s science presentation. He’d gotten sick. His family had screamed.
He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then opened them to study the land again, this time more slowly as he tried to process what he was seeing.
It looked familiar. He’d been here before. His brow furrowed. In fact, it kind of looked like their property. But that was impossible since there was no house. He searched the area again, once more recognizing familiar landmarks.
A chill ran up his spine. It was their property. He’d know it anywhere. His family had owned this piece of land forever. They’d had picnics here when he was a kid, long before he’d married and built the house.
But there were subtle differences. The scrub brush to the south and the grove of trees to the north were missing. What was going on?
His gaze settled on Melissa. She looked haggard. Melissa had never looked haggard in her life and relief rushed though him. He must be having a realistic dream. He pinched the tender skin under his arm hard enough to leave a bruise. It hurt.
Fear slammed into him and his jaw tensed. No, he wasn’t dreaming. “We’re on our property.” He made the statement, needing to hear it out loud.
Melissa looked at him blankly. “You bought more property?”
“No. This is the property we built our house on.”
Melissa glanced around before laughing a touch hysterically. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Take a look around.” He pointed. “There’s the hill in the back yard. And there’s the oak tree.”
Everyone studied the tree. It was a relatively small tree, barely big enough to support a climber. It was certainly not the huge, old tree in their back yard.
Melissa laughed shrilly. “Are you insane? That’s not our tree! I’m dreaming, right?”
He didn’t blame her for the disbelief, or the edge of hysteria, but he needed to take charge before things got too out of control. He needed to figure this out before she went over the edge and took them all with her.
Richard shook his head, trying to rid himself of the buzz in his ears, and said the only thing he knew to be true. “We’re not dreaming. This is our property.”
Melissa jumped up. “Then where is our house?” She gestured wildly. “Where are the neighbors?” She shrieked the words at him.
Richard tried to think of a rational explanation, but couldn’t. “I don’t know.” Could someone be playing some kind of elaborate joke on them? For what purpose?
Melissa stilled, looking so lost and forlorn that Richard reached out and put his arm around her.
She pushed him away.
His lips tightened, but he didn’t say anything.
Jeremy stood and looked around. “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”
Everyone stared at him.
Jeremy grinned. “This is so cool! Don’t you get it? We’ve been sucked into the past, just like that guy on TV!”
Jessica started to cry.
Richard knelt to put an arm around Jessica, but his attention stayed on Jeremy. “What are you talking about? What guy?”
“Some guy was on the news last night and said the blue moon sucked him back in time. Mom saw it too.”
Richard’s brows drew together as irritation flared. “Jeremy, you’re not helping.”
Jeremy’s eyes widened. “It’s true! Tell him, Mom.”
Richard turned to look at Melissa. She was holding her head in her hands, pulling her hair.
“Lissa?”
She shook her head. “No. No. No. This isn’t happening. I’ve been under so much stress lately. That’s it, isn’t it? I’ve finally cracked. I’m going to check myself into a clinic today. After I finish the designs for that movie star. Oh, what is her name? The blonde one.”
She laughed maniacally. “Oh yes! They’re all blonde! Oh, why can’t I think of her name? I’ve got to get those designs done. If that backstabbing boss of mine thinks I’ll let him take that account from me then he is out of his mind.”
Richard left Jessica to walk toward Melissa. He pulled her into his arms and this time she didn’t resist, but clung to him. “Melissa. It’s all right. We’re going to figure out what’s going on here and it’s going to be okay.” As he spoke, his eyes landed on their tree again and goose bumps broke out on the back of his neck. Even when he’d been a kid the tree hadn’t been anywhere near that small.
He gazed into the distance where the neighbor’s house had always stood. The landscape was the same, but the house wasn’t there. Nothing was there. But this was their property; he was sure of it. The slope of the hill, the flat area at the bottom, the rise off to the right, the tree, even small, in the correct spot.
Melissa looked up at him. “Someone is putting us on, right? It’s a joke, we’re being punk’d or something, right?” She stared up at him hopefully, then looked around as if searching for the camera crew.
Apparently she found nothing suspicious and broke away to circle wildly. She stopped to looked up at the sky. “Take me back! I don’t belong here! I don’t want to live with Indians!”
Richard wondered if he should slap her. He swallowed and concentrated on her hysteria so he wouldn’t give in to his own.
Suddenly Melissa screamed. Loudly.
Wincing, his gaze followed the direction of her pointing finger.
At the top of the hill stood an old man, his craggy face deeply lined, his eyes squinting against the sun. He sported a full red beard, threaded liberally with gray. He was shaggy, dirty and wore a battered, greasy-looking cowboy hat. But what caught Richard’s eye was the Winchester rifle in his hands.
He cocked it and everyone froze.
The old guy took a few steps down the hill, and Richard moved to place himself in front of his family, waving them behind him.
“Who are you people,” the man drawled, his voice slow and low. “And what are ya doing jabbering away on my property?”
Melissa gripped the waistband of Richard’s jeans and laughed hysterically, Jessica whimpered, and Jeremy breathed out an awed, “Cool!” as Richard closed his eyes against the impossible. This was unbelievable. He opened his eyes to focus on the old man once more.
He’d moved a few steps down the hill. Closer.
Richard recognized him.
Or rather, remembered him from an old, old photo in the family scrapbook. As blood rushed from his head, he let out a shaky sigh and accepted the unacceptable. He nodded at the old man. “Hello, Grandpa.”
Chapter Four
Hysteria bubbled just below the surface, and Melissa tried to swallow it down. Gun or no gun, she needed to know the date. Needed to know if she were delusional. Surely this couldn’t be what it seemed. Time travel was impossible; everyone knew that.
She brushed past Richard. “What is today’s date?”
The man’s eyes widened as he looked at her then turned away, an embarrassed expression on his face as he lowered the gun.
When he didn’t answer, her brows rose. She swallowed again, trying to hold it together. Was the guy an imbecile? “The date? Please tell me the date!”
The old man looked past Melissa to Richard, ignoring her completely. “You look familiar to me. Do I know you?”
Richard was staring at the old man. “Uh, no, we’ve never met.”
She couldn’t believe this. Melissa stepped between the two of them. “Sir--”
The old man took a step back up the hill and looked over her head at Richard. “You sure? Because--”
Melissa lost it. Just lost it. She shrieked, stomped a foot, and got her high heel stuck in the ground, which enraged her even more. “You tell me what the date is today or I’ll take that gun and shove it up your--”
Richard grabbed her elbow. “Melissa!” He looked up. “Uh, sorry, she’s just a little upset.”
The old man nodded. “About the robbery?”
She wrenched her heel free and glared. “The date!”
He sti
ll didn’t look at her. “It’s the first day of
August.”
Melissa dug her nails into her palms and turned to glare at Richard.
He took the hint. “The year?”
The old man spit tobacco onto the ground. “You some kind of dummy? It’s 1887.”
With a moan, Melissa sank to her knees. “1887?” She started to laugh, softly at first, then harder, her stomach aching, until finally the laughter ran out and she looked up at Richard, who still stared at the old man, ignoring her completely.
She stood and faced her husband. “Now what? Now what do I do? Do you realize I’m supposed to meet an important client tomorrow? That I could lose the client if I’m not there for my appointment? Does it even matter to you that Xavier will steal her right out from under me the minute I don’t show? Do you think I have time for this?”
Jeremy laughed. “Mom, Xavier isn’t even born yet.”
Melissa turned to Jeremy and pointed a finger. “And you. You and your science presentation. You did this on purpose. You wanted this to happen!”
Richard lifted a hand. “Now, Melissa--”
Jessica sighed loudly. “Mom, would you just chill? We don’t need this right now.”
She shot Jessica a scathing look and staggered over to the old man. When he refused to look at her again, her lips tightened. “Look at me.”
He didn’t.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
The old man gulped, then finally met her gaze. “Where’s your clothes, missy?”
Melissa looked down quickly. Above the knee, off-white skirt, sleeveless white blouse--slightly stained--and white, strappy, high-heeled sandals. Everything in place. “Clothes?”
The old man swallowed again. “What ya doing in your unmentionables? Someone steal your clothes?”
Melissa’s mouth parted and she froze. The history of fashion flashed through her brain in fast forward then slowed down and stopped in 1887. Horror gripped her and she shook her head. No. This couldn’t be happening.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and did the only thing she could do.
