Kale, I realize now that I took a terrible risk—I filled the old well. I wasn’t thinking. I might have created a time paradox—I might never have met you! But I did. Maybe there are parallel realities.
On the morning Maggie was supposed to die, I almost slept through my opportunity to save the love of my life. An old woman that looked strangely familiar woke me in the nick of time. At the time, I didn’t know who she was, but as I write this and see my own visage in the mirror, I can only thank you for obviously indulging me one final time.
Loving Maggie is the most important thing I have ever done in my entire life. I don’t know how I could ever live without her. She is even more beautiful in person than she was in my dreams. The first time we made love, it was so incredibly life altering. I was changed forever.
As I suspected, her death was not an accident. I knew the reports of her death in the Free Press sounded odd. An accomplished horsewoman just doesn’t fall off her horse over a cliff. You see, having arrived five months before she died, I worked my magic and made her fall in love with me. (Not that it was hard. As you know, I’m incredibly charming, wink, wink!) Being that close to her, I was able to observe the day-to-day events, and soon realized that her demise was being carefully planned and staged by Jan. Remember her? Reading about Maggie and Jan’s relationship while I was in the hospital upset me terribly. Now I know why. I knew there was something evil about that woman.
Jan made a show of running the farm and making sure I knew my place. I would catch her in the barn when she wasn’t aware I was there. She seemed to have a fascination with the saddles, especially Maggie’s. It turns out she had cut the stirrup on the right side of Maggie’s saddle so that it was barely attached. Considering horsemen mount from the left side, Maggie wouldn’t have noticed it until it was too late, until she had already mounted and was speeding across the plains. I moved Maggie’s saddle to the pile of tack that was going out for repair the next day. The last thing I wanted was for Maggie to be injured.
Unfortunately, the saddler was unable to pick up the damaged saddle on time and it was still there the morning of March 29. On that morning, Maggie decided to take her horse on her usual early morning run along the cliffs, bordering Lake Champlain. Once awakened, I immediately ran to the barn looking for Maggie and realized her horse was gone. I also realized her defective saddle was no longer in the repair pile. As fast as I could possibly move, I saddled another horse and rode after her.
I was sure I would be too late as I scanned the horizon hoping for a glimpse of her. Finally, I saw her, galloping directly toward the edge of the cliffs. I pushed my horse as hard as I could and came to within thirty feet of her when I heard a loud shot. It sounded like a rifle or shotgun. Maggie’s horse suddenly reared in fright. She stood in the saddle in an attempt to calm the animal, then the defective stirrup snapped and she began to tumble directly toward the cliff. I barely reached her in time and grabbed the back of her denim jacket.
By the way, she was wearing the jacket you sent to me. Apparently, denim in the future is much more durable, because it held without ripping. Anyway, here I was, barely hanging on to my own saddle with one hand, while holding her by the collar with the other. I swear her feet were dragging the ground. She nearly pulled me off my own horse as I half-dragged, half-carried her away from the edge of the cliff.
When we had cleared the cliffs by a good distance, I dropped her to the ground and stopped my horse. I dismounted and ran toward her. We fell into each other’s arms and cried for what seemed like an eternity and we clung to each other like there was no tomorrow. We must have knelt there for a good half hour just holding each other. The reality of what might have happened came crashing down on us.
Maggie’s horse had run off back to the barn as I knew it would, so we both mounted my horse. She wrapped her arms around me and clung so tightly, I could hardly breathe. It was the sweetest bone-crushing grip I had ever known. I never wanted her to release me. It was both the most uncomfortable, yet most wonderful ride back to the farm. Before we headed back to the farm, I directed my horse to the spot where Maggie’s mount had reared. There, on the ground, was a brightly colored bag. It was empty.
The following day, I returned to the cliff and searched around, both on the precipice and on the ground at the bottom of the cliff. I found a 10-gauge shotgun shell among the rocks—directly under the location where Maggie’s horse reared. I am convinced Jan was responsible for that gunshot. Jan would have known Maggie would be drawn to the colorful sack so oddly out of place on the snow covered plain, and planned the gunshot at the precise moment Maggie was closest to the edge.
After it was all over, I learned from the other farmhand, John, that Jan had saddled Maggie’s horse for her that morning. Obviously, she used the saddle she had tampered with. Kale, her plan would have worked if I hadn’t discovered those diaries. This was meant to be, of that I am certain.
Jan turned out to be Janneal Safford, the woman who owned the farm immediately following Maggie’s parents. As it turned out, Jan had convinced Maggie’s father to leave the farm in both Maggie’s and her name. She would assume ownership if Maggie died before she did. Jan had been planning Maggie’s death for several months. As you know, she succeeded, at least until I appeared on the scene. With me in the picture, Jan’s plan failed. Curiously enough, Jan disappeared that very evening, but not before I cornered her in the barn and kicked the shit out of her. Even though I had no real proof, I made her well aware that I knew what she had done. We never saw her again.
Oh, jumping ahead for a moment, Kale—do you remember the land records said there were several owners between Maggie’s parents and mine? Well, I needed to find a way to assure you and Andi ended up with the farm, so I convinced Maggie to hold on to it until 2071, when my parents came along, and we sold it directly to them. Let me tell you, it was very odd meeting them before I was even born. They both stared at me in the oddest way, like they thought they should know me. I wanted so much to tell them who I was, but that might have just given them both heart attacks, then I would have killed my parents before I was even born. Talk about the ultimate paradox!
Anyway, Maggie asked me how I knew she was in danger. I had no choice but to tell her about my life and my journey into the past to be by her side. Quite frankly, she thought I was insane at first. I tried to prove it to her by recounting word for word, things she had written in her diary. She immediately accused me of finding the diaries and stealing them, which I readily confessed to doing... one hundred years later. She actually made me tear the walls down in our bedroom to prove to her they were still there. She pretty much freaked out when I told her the whole story. I don’t think she totally believed me until I was able to predict historical events that occurred over the next few years, but eventually, she relented and admitted that I was such a wing-nut, I could only have come from another time. She was just too cute.
Maggie and I were married a year later, and thanks to the wonders of science, we had two children, a boy we named Kale, and a daughter named Andrea, after the two people I love with all my heart. The two of you made all of this possible for me. I will forever be in your debt and will watch over you and your loved ones for the rest of eternity. That is my promise to you.
Kale, you warned me about not creating paradoxes with my presence in the past, but as I see it, impacts of a positive nature would surely be welcome. So, as you probably know, I continued our spinal cord regeneration research. It is my sincere hope that by taking the knowledge back one hundred years, SCI healing will have advanced at a phenomenal rate. It’s the least I could do to repay the two of you, and Peter, for all you did for me.
If you’re reading this letter, then you have met our grandson, Jordan. We are so proud of him. He has known about where I came from since he was a child. In fact, our children, Kale and Andrea, as well as all six of our grandchildren know. Jordan chose to enter the field of spinal cord regeneration to follow in my footsteps. When I realized he mi
ght have the opportunity to meet you in person, I penned this letter and gave it to him for safekeeping until he had the opportunity to deliver it personally. It is my sincere hope that he carried out my wishes.
Well, my dear friends, I am tired and must rest. It is unfortunate that time travel cannot erase the ravages of age. My body is old, but my spirit is still young. I have little time left in this world and look forward to the day that Maggie will join me and we will be together again for all eternity. I am not afraid to die. I know there is something more beyond this physical state. One day, Maggie will join me, as will both of you. I will miss my Maggie when I go, but we have had fifty-eight wonderful years together thanks to you. There is nothing in this world that I could ever do to repay you. Know that I love you both, and I look forward to seeing you again one day. Give my best to Peter. Take care of you...
Love, Jordan
Andi clutched at her heart. “It hurts so much. I miss her.”
Kale made no attempt to stem the flow of tears from his eyes. He brought the letter to his lips and kissed it tenderly.
“I love you too, Jordan. I always have.” He reached over to take Andrea’s hand in his own. “It warms my heart to know she was happy.”
Andi smiled through her tears. “Me, too.”
Kale held the letter in front of them both. “Jordan,” he said out loud. “You said there was nothing in this world that you could do to repay us. Well, my friend, you were wrong. You are giving our child’s life back to us. That is a greater repayment than we could ever ask for.”
“Amen,” Andi chimed in.
Kale leaned over and kissed Andi tenderly. “Have I told you today that I love you?”
Andi inhaled deeply. “I believe you have, but I never tire of hearing it. I love you too, Kale, across all space and time.”
“Across all space and time.”
Kale carefully folded Jordan’s letter and placed it in his pocket, then rose to his feet and offered his hand to Andi. Soon, they were walking hand in hand back to the farm.
At that moment, if Kale and Andi had looked at Jordan’s headstone they would have seen that it now mysteriously read:
Jordan Marie Lewis, age 90. Born September 20, 2073, died July 4th, 2077. Free from the bonds of time and held by the arms of love. Thank you, Kale and Andi.
About the Author
Photo Credit: Brad Fowler, Song of Myself Photography
Karen D. Badger, better known to her online fans as “kd bard” is the author of On a Wing and a Prayer and Yesterday Once More, both of which are published by Blue Feather Books, Ltd. Born and raised in Vermont, Karen is the second of five children who were raised by a fiercely independent mother, who remains one of her best friends to this day. Karen earned her B.A. in 1978 in Theater and in Elementary Education, and in 1994, earned a B.S. in Mathematics.
Ten years ago, writing became an escape when Karen underwent a much-needed lifestyle change, and reinvented herself as an independent woman. Her sons remain the pride of her life. In April of 2005, a beautiful baby boy came into her life when her first grandchild was born. Kyren is the apple of his Nona’s eye. Just 18 months later, a beautiful granddaughter made her appearance. Ariana is Nona’s little angel. Granddaughter Elise is due in the fall of 2008. Karen considers herself blessed to be living in Vermont and surrounded by the love of her family and friends. She has learned to put the past behind and to move on, never looking back. She firmly believes that “If you keep looking back, you’ll trip over what's in front of you.”
Karen currently works as an Engineer in the semiconductor field and still lives in Vermont with her partner, Barb. She fills her spare time with writing, and spending time with family and friends. She is currently editing the Billie/Cat series for publication.
Look for the exciting first story in the Billie/Cat series,
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Available soon, only from
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Karen D. Badger - Yesterday Once More Page 37
