Waking in Time

by Angie Stanton

  Will comes and sits on my bed, putting an arm around me. “Abbi. We can’t let that happen. We have to find a way to fix this and get back to our rightful times.”

  I look at him, a little surprised. “You want to go back? Even though your family’s gone?”

  He considers it and nods. “I don’t think there’s any way I could prevent my family from getting sick and dying, but if I was back where I started, maybe I could save the farm and my father’s legacy. I should at least try.”

  I relax into his side, the warmth of his body radiates through the soft fabric of his shirt. Everything about him feels strong, as if he could handle anything. He exudes masculinity. “I wonder… if I ever make it home and tell people about this, will anyone believe me? Will my life be the same? Or will things have changed?”

  “I don’t know,” Will says softly.

  “Like, have I done something that changes the future? Or, have you? And did Professor Smith die in the bombing? Or did I save him?”

  Will sighs. “I hope we find out.” Despite his physical strength and the brave face he puts on, there’s a vulnerability in his voice.

  We settle in, Will on Mildred’s bed, me on mine, and talk about anything and everything—our childhoods and friends, our wishes and dreams. Anything to avoid the reality of our situation.

  As dawn breaks and the sun peaks over the horizon, I sneak Will out before any of the girls are awake. Then I crawl groggily back into bed for a few hours’ sleep.

  * * *

  This becomes our new routine. Each night, we whisper in the dark, teasing and joking, making up stories about Mildred and the poor sap she found to marry her. But we also cover serious ground. I try to teach Will something new about the future, like escalators, televisions, computers, and cell phones. Will, in turn, dials back and tells me how to start a fire in a cookstove, how to hitch a horse to a buggy, and how to thread a kerosene lantern. The fact that I may need this knowledge to survive is beyond terrifying.

  Each day forges our friendship more. I relax in the safety Will brings, trying to ignore the fact that at some point, I will leave him or he will leave me, against our will, when we travel again.

  Even though we catch a few hours of sleep each morning, we’re both exhausted. We stumble to classes, nap through lectures, and do the bare minimum to get by, but Will, who also goes to crew practice every day, is especially tired.

  “Why do you bother going to crew?” I ask one night as we sit on the floor, leaning against my bed.

  He looks down at his hands and rubs the callouses with his thumb. “It’s my one constant. Rowing is repetitive and familiar, and the water helps me relax. I only have to think about the strokes.”

  We yawn simultaneously, then look at each other and laugh. We are both so tired and desperate to come up with a solution. “What if we took turns sleeping at night?” I suggest. “Then at least one of us would get some rest.”

  Will runs his hand through his hair, considering. “But what if, by accident, the awake person drifts off? Or what if the sleeping person somehow still traveled—right in front of us?”

  I consider those problems. “Or,” I glance at my bed and wonder how he’ll react to my next idea. I bite my lip. “What if we both slept?”

  His brow furrows as he waits for me to explain.

  “I don’t want to end up somewhere by myself. But if you’re on my bed with me, if I travel, you’ll come too,” I explain, hoping that’s actually true.

  He gives me a crooked smile. “Are you inviting me into your bed?”

  I shrug and nod the affirmative.

  He flashes his eyes suggestively, and my stomach turns somersaults.

  “There is logic to your idea—I can’t argue with that. You’ve said that whatever is on the bed travels with you.”

  We stare at the narrow bed.

  “Yeah, so far.” I’m picturing us side by side, his lanky body stretched out beside me, us spending hours just inches apart, or even… touching.

  Will clears his throat. “I know a gentleman would say no, but the idea of lying in bed next to a beautiful girl, well, I’m also human. And, I’m beyond exhausted,” he says with a crooked smile.

  I can’t help wringing my hands. “So when do we start?”

  “There’s no time like the present.” He lifts an eyebrow.

  “Right. Tonight it is. So… how is this going to work?”

  Will scrunches his face in thought. “First, we shouldn’t go to bed with our shoes on.”

  “True.”

  We slip off our shoes. And for some reason, that simple act feels like I’m stripping off a whole lot more.

  I pull back the covers and climb into the bed, moving the hatbox to the corner. “This stays with me. And this.” I grab for my macramé bag, “Anything you need? Make sure it’s on the bed.”

  Will hooks his duffle bag over the post at the foot of the bed and then stands grinning down at me. His devious smile is adorable.

  I shake my head. “Stop that. You’re making me nervous.”

  Will turns off the light and climbs in next to me, taking up most of the space. Between the two of us, my hatbox, and my bag, there isn’t an inch to spare. We lie side by side, our heads sharing the same pillow. I realize I’m holding my breath.

  After a few nervous seconds, I laugh. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

  “I’m willing to put in the necessary practice to get it right,” he says in a serious tone as if this is a science experiment.

  “Oh, I bet you are.”

  The bed shakes from his chuckling. “At this rate, we’ll never be able to sleep.”

  As I stare at the dark ceiling, my body is pinging on high alert because of the gorgeous guy beside me. His forearm rests against mine, his blond arm hairs tickling my skin, making it impossible to relax. And yet, there’s a sense of safety I feel when he’s near, like we’re in a cocoon and nothing bad can happen. Having him in my bed, a hairsbreadth away, quiets the constant hum of fear that has plagued me since my travels began.

  Eventually, we must drift off, because when I wake, the sun is streaming in. I’m smooshed between Will’s warm body and the wall. He’s stretched out across the middle of the bed. His face is relaxed and unguarded. There’s scruff on his chin, and his bare chest moves slowly with each breath. He must have taken his shirt off sometime in the night, I note with interest.

  I could watch him all day, but I hear doors opening and closing in the hall. “Will,” I say softly, looking around the room and seeing that it’s unchanged. We didn’t travel! But we overslept, and by this hour the dorm floor is crawling with girls.

  I say his name again, but he doesn’t even stir. I lightly touch his bare shoulder, well-muscled from all that rowing. He jerks awake, wondering where he is—something I often do these days.

  “Did we make it?” He shoots up in alarm.

  “We did.” I smile.

  “Well isn’t that just the bee’s knees,” he relaxes back down and stretches like a cat. “I haven’t slept so well in weeks.”

  “Goodie for you, ya bed hog,” I tease.

  He lifts his head off the pillow and sees that I’m squeezed against the wall. “That was horribly bad-mannered of me. I’ll try to do better tonight,” he says, making no effort to scoot over.

  I laugh, filled with relief and even a little excitement that he’ll be back to weather another night with me.

  “Our next challenge is, how do we get you out of here without getting caught?”

  He gets up, stretches, and says, “Guess you’re giving me the bum’s rush, eh?”

  I shush him and check the hall while he slips his shirt and shoes back on. When it’s clear, he makes a dash for the stairs, turning at the last minute to tip an imaginary hat at me.

  I grin in relief with the knowledge th
at I’ll have Will by my side each night.

  * * *

  That night after dinner, Will and I meet at the library to research the effigy mounds. We discover that Sauk Indians were here before the land was turned into the university campus, and we dig into their story. After some help from a librarian, we have a number of history books, which are now spread out before us.

  “Look here.” Will places a book in front of me and points to a section. His face is inches from mine, and I’m having trouble focusing on the page. “It says here that after the Sauk Indians were pushed out of Madison, they traveled west.”

  His close proximity plays with my emotions. I dip my head and see the hollow of his cheek and the curve of his mouth. He angles his face toward mine, feigning a better look at the page. His breath tickles my neck.

  I try to ignore it by reading the next section. “And then they were massacred in the Battle of Bad Axe. That’s terrible,” I say, turning to him.

  Will looks at me and I lose focus, mesmerized by the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. “Poor souls,” he murmurs.

  I fight to keep my breath even, and not because of the book. My hands tremble, so I hide them on my lap and read on. “It says here that Elizabeth Waters dormitory was built on sacred burial grounds.”

  “And there’s an effigy mound right outside my dorm.” He gazes into my eyes. “We’re cursed.”

  “Yes we are,” I breathe.

  He leans closer, his lips about to touch mine.

  A door slams and voices sound.

  Will moves away, and the moment is lost.

  * * *

  Later when I slip downstairs to let Will in, a shyness comes over me that I don’t expect. There’s no denying anymore how much I like him, but I don’t know if he feels the same. I know he cares about me, but is it only because we’re stuck in this craziness together?

  “Hi,” I say with a nervous smile once we’re safely behind my locked door.

  “Hi.” He twirls a blade of grass in his fingers. “Any word from Ruby?”

  “Nothing yet.” We have a long night alone together and I need to get my mind off hopping into bed, so I move across the room and rearrange the hairpins on my dresser. “How are you doing with giving up cigarettes?”

  “I’d rather have a smoke, but you know what the future brings, so I’ll have to trust you.” He hooks his bag on the end of my bed.

  “Even if I won’t be there to nag you?”

  “Especially because of that. It terrifies me to imagine a world where so much changes.” Will sits on the extra bed and rubs his temples. “So many wars and disasters, not to mention those little boxes you say everyone holds that can tell you anything you want.”

  “Smart phones,” I say, missing mine.

  “My head can’t comprehend much of what you’ve told me. I sincerely wish you could be there with me.” When he looks at me, I see the fear he’s trying to tamp down.

  “I wish I could too.”

  “And what will you do if you keep going back?”

  “I’d rather not think about it,” I whisper and turn away. As each day passes, the stark reality weighs heavier on my mind. He’s taught me what he can, but life in the early 1900s sounds difficult at best. How will I survive in times when women have even fewer rights than they do in 1930?

  I take a deep breath and try to control my emotions, but when I exhale, my breath hitches on the edge of a cry.

  Will appears at my side and pulls me close. I struggle to hold back my tears. It’s getting harder to put on a brave face as the reality of my future becomes clearer… or rather, completely unclear.

  “I’m scared, Will.” I admit, melting into his warmth.

  “I know,” he murmurs. “Abbi, I will move heaven and earth to be here for you. Even if it means traveling hundreds of years into the future, so that I can figure out how to come back in time and save you.”

  I look up at him, overwhelmed at the idea that he would do that for me. “Thank you.”

  Will kisses my forehead and I wish for more. I want to throw myself at him, but I must already seem brash and pushy compared to the women of his time, and I don’t want to scare him away.

  But then his lips move down to my cheek. He pulls back just enough to look at me with his deep blue eyes. He leans back in and lightly brushes his lips over mine, setting my nerve endings dancing.

  He slides his hand to the small of my back and holds me slightly off balance, his strong arm holding my weight. He draws his hand through my hair, and angles his head down so that I have to tilt mine up, just enough that my neck is exposed to the light caress of his thumb. Finally, he lowers his lips to mine. This old-fashioned boy knows how to kiss.

  When the kiss ends, I’m a misty-eyed puddle. He still holds me in his arms with that sexy confidence of his that I noticed the first day we met.

  I murmur, “How the hell are we supposed to share the same bed now?”

  Will laughs.

  My hand flies to my mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”

  He releases me and groans a bit. “You make an excellent point. I’m afraid I shouldn’t have opened that can of worms, but there it is.” He gives me a crooked smile.

  I slip out to change into the crew T-shirt and sweat pants he gave me that first night in the boathouse. When I return, Will is studying the yearbook that Smitty gave me. I see he’s looking at the photo of Ruby.

  “I’m worried about her,” I say. “Seems she should have gotten a letter to me by now.”

  “Maybe Walter was able to rescue her from her father’s house.” Will closes the book.

  “Maybe, but wouldn’t she have written to tell me? I wish I could go see her.”

  “I don’t have a car or know anyone who does. But, we could call,” he suggests.

  “That’s a great idea. Do you think they have a phone?”

  “Only one way to find out. We can try tomorrow.”

  When we prepare to crawl in for the night, Will is more polite than ever.

  “I’ll try not to hog the bed tonight.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll just kick you out if you do,” I tease.

  We pull the quilt over us and lie facing each other. The hatbox and the rest of our things are in place. We’re as set as we can be for whenever we might travel to, like the two souls on a raft in the open sea, with only each other to rely on.

  Will curls his hand around mine. “Thank you for coming for me.”

  I revel in the touch of his skin on mine. “You’re welcome, but it’s not like I had any say in the matter.”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if there’s more to us coming together than random time travel,” he says thoughtfully.

  “Because, heck, any ol’ person can time travel.”

  We laugh, and I love the low rumble of his voice.

  “That’s right. All the kids are doing it now,” he says. “But truthfully, I wonder if there’s some sort of logic or pattern.”

  “You did introduce Ruby and Walter. If you hadn’t, they wouldn’t have my grandmother in a few years, and I wouldn’t exist. That’s… epic.”

  “Very true. What are the other constants or coincidences that have happened?”

  I think back. If I count days, it was about two months ago, but it seems like a lifetime. “Well, you. Grandma. Certainly the professor.”

  “Remind me. Did you meet him the first time you traveled?”

  “No, I was freaking out too much. But I called my grandmother.” My head drops. “She had no idea who I was.”

  “I’m sorry. But isn’t it possible the professor was there and you didn’t see him, because you didn’t go to class?”

  “True, and I did have physics on my schedule, but there’s also the awful possibility that he died in the Sterling Hall bombing.” I picture the professor through
the years that I knew him, from a wise middle-aged man, to awkward young college student unsure of himself. “He was such a good person and was trying so hard to help me. I really hope he survived.”

  “I do too.” He squeezes my hand.

  “The first time I met Professor Smith, he seemed so hopeful about his theories.”

  “Good. So even if he did die, maybe his work was passed along to a colleague.”

  “He didn’t mention anyone.” I turn his hand over. “Your palms are all calloused.”

  He closes his hand and pulls it away. “I’m sorry. It’s from rowing.”

  “Let me see.” I open his fist for a closer look. I glance to see if I’m bothering him, but he’s just watching my face. I move my fingertip lightly over his skin.

  He laughs and his hand closes. “That tickles!”

  “You’re ticklish?”

  “I am when you touch me like that.” He shivers and says, “Okay, focus. What else? What are we missing?”

  But focusing with Will holding my hand is nearly impossible. I think back to what happened after the horrible bombing. “I met you.”

  He smiles.

  I grin back. “And the professor. He toured my room and took pictures of everything in the hatbox to see if there’s any connection.”

  “Good. All this supports your theory that he’s the key to helping bring us home.”

  “And when I traveled again, I was with Grandma.” I get quiet, thinking about how it felt to find her and then lose her again.

  “I think that’s a big key too. You were grieving and lonely and were drawn to the person you had such an emotional connection to. I was sad and melancholy too. Maybe that’s why we found each other.”

  “I could believe that,” I say. Will and I have only been together a short time, but already he means the world to me. “And that time with Grandma was the longest I’ve been anywhere, so far.”

  “That might be because you’ve figured out how to fight the system.”

  A lock of hair falls in my face. I tuck it behind my ear. “Maybe. And now that you mention that emotional pull, Grandma desperately wanted to find out what happened to Ruby’s baby, and poof, here I am in Ruby’s time and she’s pregnant.”