Tempus

by Tyra Lynn

  “Yeah, I guess so.” That made me sad. I didn’t want my dad to feel like I was all he had.

  “He’s very proud of you, Jessie. He’s got good reason to be, though.”

  He couldn’t see me, but I blushed. “Umm, thanks.”

  I heard Steve laugh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. You’re a special person, Jessie, you always have been. There is just something about you.”

  His words were so sweet, and they were breaking my heart. He was such a good guy. Then it occurred to me, maybe I was thinking more of myself than I should. Who was I to presume I could break his heart? He wasn’t even my boyfriend.

  “Hey, Jessie. Remember the first time we met?”

  I did remember. I was at the store with Mom. I was eleven. It was after school. I was doing homework in the back.

  “Yeah.” I said.

  “Your mom took my mom in the back to show her something they just got in. You were sitting on a stool at that desk. You had on a pink lacy dress and pink shoes and had pink ribbons in your hair. I thought you were a doll when I first saw you. Like a real doll, until you turned around.” He laughed.

  “Picture day.” I mumbled.

  “You whined about a math problem, and I offered to help.”

  I remembered. His hair wasn’t spiky then, and it was longer. He had the prettiest eyes I had ever seen. They made me think of the set of green Fostoria candleholders on Moms’ nightstand. He was the first boy I had ever really noticed, or should I say thought was good-looking. And he was sweet.

  My tummy fluttered a little with the memory. “I thought you had the prettiest eyes I had ever seen. Of course, I was only eleven.” I laughed.

  “So what are you trying to say?” He tried to sound insulted.

  “Just that’s what I remember most. Your beautiful green eyes.” And his smile. He had a very sweet smile.

  “I remember your big brown eyes. They made me think of Bambi, you know, the deer. That’s what you reminded me of, a baby deer, with your gangly long legs. You grew into them nicely.”

  I hadn’t thought about that day in years. I think I had a crush on him the first time I ever looked into those eyes. He was fifteen, and hadn’t started filling out yet. He was long-legged and skinny, but he had big hands and feet. They looked a little too big, like a big-dog puppy you knew would grow up to be huge. Funny, but he seemed confident, even then.

  “You made me think of a big puppy.” The thought made me laugh.

  “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  “Good, I guess. Kids like puppies.”

  “You make me smile, Jessie.”

  “You make me smile too, Steve.” And he did.

  “So, I guess I’ll call you tomorrow before I leave the store. Wear something you won’t mind getting dirty, and bring some gloves, too.”

  “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

  “Sweet dreams, Jessie.”

  “Sweet dreams, Steve.”

  I hung up and started to put my phone back on the charger, then stopped. I was torn. Should I call Julie? She was my best friend, after all. Maybe she could help. The only problem was I couldn’t tell her everything, and without knowing everything, how could she possibly help me?

  I growled, and dialed her number. She answered, “Hey! Where were you today?”

  “Julie! I have a dilemma! Help!” ‘Help’ always got Julie immediately focused.

  “Tell me everything!” I could imagine her sitting up at attention as she said it.

  The first thing I told her was about this morning, nearly falling out my window and Gabriel coming to the rescue. She interrupted me immediately.

  “And you didn’t call me and tell me anything! How could you not call me? OHMIGOD! You could have died!”

  “Julie, focus! That’s not even the important thing!”

  “Not important! How could you....”

  “JULIE! I’m sorry I didn’t call, but you have to listen, please! There’s more!”

  I told her about meeting Steve for lunch, about seeing Gabriel and his dad, about them inviting us to dinner, and how Gabriel wanted me to come early. I told her about him picking me up and taking me to his house.

  “Wait, wait, wait. Gabriel came to your house and took you to his house?”

  “Right.”

  “To cook.”

  “Right.”

  “Right.” She said the word like it had twelve letter ‘I’s.’

  “Seriously, Julie!”

  “Okay. But don’t you think that’s a little weird? I mean, he’s gorgeous and all that, but his dad was creepy at the café.”

  “Thomas?”

  “Oh, it’s Thomas, is it? That’s his Dad’s name?”

  “Yeah. Actually, he’s pretty nice. Especially for a professor.”

  “If you say so. But there’s still something weird, like what about those words written in your notebook?”

  I had forgotten I’d sent her that. Think, think, think. Argh! I didn’t want to lie to Julie, but I had to say something. “Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”

  “No, but I’ll try not to.” She laughed.

  “I think I wrote it.” I lied.

  “No way!”

  “Yes, way. I’ll tell you why.”

  I tried to explain that I kept dreaming about Gabriel. I also reminded her of the historical porch-swing fiasco on my thirteenth birthday. I told her there were almost, but not quite, fireworks with Steve, but that I also felt drawn to Gabriel. Then I told her what my dad had told me about my mom.

  “And so with all that, and then this morning he shows up as I’m about to plunge to my death.” I left out the part where I was leaning out because of Gabriel. “He came in my house, Julie, to rescue me! He pulled splinters out of my hands. There’s something there, like fate.” I concluded. I waited to see what she might say.

  “Then why are you even asking me anything?”

  “Because I don’t know what to do! I don’t want to hurt Steve, but I can’t pretend I don’t feel something for Gabriel, as insane as it sounds. I drew his picture before we ever met! Doesn’t that mean something?”

  “Yeah, probably. I just don’t know what. Maybe he’s the devil, sent to tempt you.”

  “JULIE!”

  “Sorry,” she laughed. “I don’t know. I wish I could help, but I really, seriously don’t know. It all sounds too crazy, like a book or movie, or something.”

  “I know!”

  “Well, you’ll have to let me think about it. I think you should still go with Steve tomorrow. I wouldn’t make any quick decisions about anything. You might be thinking clearer in the morning, too. Maybe.”

  “Great. Thanks a lot.” I couldn’t help but sound sarcastic.

  “You still love me.” She said.

  “I know. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  That was absolutely no help whatsoever! Of course, being fair to Julie, she didn’t know the whole thing. She couldn’t. I was beginning to think that maybe I was crazy. I looked at my watch. It was nearing nine-thirty. Earlier, I couldn’t wait for nine-thirty to get here. Now, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Talking to Steve, remembering the past—Steve—Steve was real. Steve had been here, for years. Steve wasn’t going anywhere. Even if time reset, if it could reset, Steve would still be right here.

  All this time, I had associated Gabriel with an archangel. What if he was the opposite? Even as I thought it, I knew it was wrong. Why would I have mixed feelings, if it were fate? If Gabriel were my destiny, if there even were such a thing, wouldn’t I know that? No, if I were already certain, that certainty would be unnatural. That’s what wouldn’t be normal.

  Insane, insane, insane!

  This must be exactly how crazy people feel. Standing in front of the mirror, looking at myself, watching a million emotions flicker across my own face—I looked like a stranger. I had two minutes. Two minutes to decide what I was going to do.

  I looked myself in the eyes, thinking that maybe I could
see a clue in there, something that would tell me. I could try; I could put my hands on the mirror and try. I could also just go to bed. I could turn off my phone, go to bed, and ignore the mirror. I could wake up tomorrow and wait for Steve and go on living a normal life, as normal as possible.

  Sure I could. Free will. My choice.

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.

  —Rabindranath Tagore

  As if I had a choice. Maybe I never did. Maybe none of us do.

  I placed my hands on the mirror, but my eyes were closed. I don’t know why I closed my eyes—either I would see him, or I wouldn’t. Fate would decide. I would stand there a few minutes, and either Gabriel would be there, or he wouldn’t.

  I felt the moment he was there.

  I felt his hand on my cheek. I felt him step close to me. I felt his arms go around me, and I felt my hands release the mirror.

  “If I open my eyes, will I see you?” I asked.

  “Yes, you will.” I felt the words flow across my ear as he stepped back a little.

  I opened my eyes.

  Those were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. Deep, dark indigo. Magnetic. I trembled.

  He had changed clothes. He was wearing what I could only describe as a pirate shirt, long-sleeves rolled up and collarless, with drawstrings up the front, but hanging open several inches down his chest. His pants were black, and form fitting, his shirt was tucked in neatly. He looked like the cover of a romance novel, and I could barely breathe—then I realized I hadn’t changed clothes.

  “Oh, god. I must look horrible!” I said.

  “You look wonderful.” His breath rolled over me, touching my cheeks, down my neck, and across my collarbone.

  I trembled again. “You cheat.” I said.

  “And you don’t?” He looked me over. “I could find you a million years from now.”

  At that moment, I believed him.

  His hands were on my waist, holding it loosely on either side. “Would you like to sit down?” He asked.

  I had no idea. I could have stood there and looked at him forever. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I was back to believing the whole ‘archangel’ idea, because if he was the devil, my soul was in serious jeopardy.

  “Are you the devil?” I asked.

  “Hardly. What happened to the angel idea?”

  “You already told me you weren’t.”

  His laugh was deep and husky, not like an angel at all. I felt that pull, and I stepped closer. Any thoughts of anyone else went out of my mind entirely. All I could feel was his presence as it completely enveloped me. Now I knew how it felt to him when I imagined my heart wrapping around his.

  He swept me off my feet and carried me over to the bed. I was helpless to resist. Not that I wanted to, but I couldn’t have, even if I tried. He sat me on the edge, sitting gracefully beside me, and smiled.

  It was somewhat disorienting, and I put my hands on the bed to steady myself.

  “Tell me something about you I don’t know.” He said.

  I thought for a second. “That might be hard. You remember things I don’t, I could repeat myself, and not know it.”

  “I’ll stop you.” He smiled a devilish grin. Maybe Julie was closer to right than I was.

  “Hmm. Can’t you help me out? Give me a hint? What do you want to know?”

  “Okay. What do you dream of being one day? What if you could be anything at all?”

  Oh, good grief. That was like ‘what do you want to be when you grow up.’ “I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it much.” He tilted his head to the side. “Don’t say anything, either! I know I should have some idea by now, but I don’t. I used to think I wanted to be an artist, but according to most people, that doesn’t ‘pay the bills.’ I don’t really care about fame. Or money, for that matter.”

  “What if you didn’t have to ‘pay the bills,’ so to speak? You could be anything.”

  “I don’t know!” Why did it feel like if I picked something, I’d either be stuck with it, or be picking the wrong thing?

  “Okay, sorry. Maybe this one will be easier.” He grinned. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

  Wow, easier huh? “I like doing a lot of things. I like working at the store. I like drawing. I like taking pictures.” I realized I was quite a boring person.

  “But what’s your favorite thing?” He pressed.

  I thought again. There had to be something. “My glimpses. Being able to do that is my favorite thing. But I also hate it sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can never get the whole story. Sometimes I see something that I wish I could see more of, but then I can’t. It’s like watching a movie, maybe, but never getting to see the end. Also, I don’t get to choose when to have them, it’s just random. Sometimes I see things I’d rather not see.” I thought of Mr. Henderson in the pink panties and laughed.

  “What’s funny?”

  I explained the whole “pink panty” episode, in great detail. We were both laughing, and I had to tell him to quiet down. It would be very bad if my dad heard us.

  “Now you have to answer something for me.” I said.

  “If I can.”

  “How did you get here, just now?”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t know, for certain. I can explain how it works with my father and me, or with other travelers.”

  “Okay. I doubt I’ll understand, though.”

  He reached over and took my hand. I could feel that pulsing magnetic electricity. “Maybe I can’t explain how exactly, but I can explain what happens. Let’s say my father and I are home and I decide to travel to one place or time, and he decides to travel to another, and let’s say I need him to come where I am. I can ‘contact’ him, with energy.”

  “Like what I did, through the floor?”

  “It’s a little like that. Do you remember anything about setting paths of mirrors?” He asked.

  “Yeah. The bathrooms not suddenly the kitchen, or something like that.”

  “Something like that.” He laughed. “When it comes to contact, the bathroom can become the kitchen, but only for a short while. We call it ‘targeting,’ for lack of a better word. You’d think we’d be more creative than that.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Okay, let’s say I wanted my dad to come here, now. The last time he went through that mirror was Monday. If he chooses simply to travel through it, he would end up here at the last time he went through, on Monday. That’s the ‘path.’ But if I ‘call’ him here, he can target me, target my energy, and he’ll show up here at this time, not on Monday.”

  I tried to picture it all in my head. “So would that permanently change the path? Could he never go back on Monday?”

  “Very good. That is correct.”

  “So when you came through just now, did I call you here, or did you just ‘target’ me?” I asked.

  “A little of both, and I don’t know how much of which. I wasn’t certain it would work. I presumed it might because, well, when you touched me in the library—you have no idea how strange, not strange but—you shouldn’t have been able to do that. Normal people can’t do that. We don’t quite do that, either, not exactly like that.”

  “We target frequencies, basically electro-magnetic frequencies. Every single person has their own, but an average persons’ is very, very weak. People who can do what we do—it’s much stronger, and somewhat controllable. We can direct it, to an extent, and use it to communicate, to an extent. For us, it’s most often someone we are very close to, like family that we can target. Interceptors are different though.” He seemed to be trying to make something make sense.

  “I heard you and your dad say that word a few times. What, or who, are interceptors?”

  “I told you how things can get messed up, and we have to fix them, right?” I nodded. “Interceptors are the ‘fixers,’ in effect. If we dete
ct something seriously wrong, it was caused by one of our kind. My father, that’s what he does. He finds the cause, the ‘person’ responsible, and informs the interceptors.”

  “They send an interceptor to target the root—that’s what we call them—before they caused the problem. It’s typically an accident, just so you know. Most of us are very careful. We all know history, future history, and have a respect for the order of things. I wanted to be an interceptor when I was younger. I wanted to ‘save the world’ and be a hero, even if nobody ever knew but me.” He laughed and shook his head.

  “So do you still want to be an interceptor?” It sounded intriguing.

  “No, but not because I decided not to, though. I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He sucked air through his teeth. “Growing up with this, I never realized how much there was to know. Trying to explain it all—it puts it in perspective.” He rubbed his hands together, thinking. “It’s not like a job you train for. It’s how you are born. It appears to be genetic, but since there are so few of us at any time, there’s no way to study it. We can’t just go into some lab somewhere and ask them to test us, you know.”

  I laughed at the thought at first, but then I remembered that old movie, ‘E.T,’ and how they wanted to probe and test the poor little ugly alien. I wouldn’t want anybody doing that to Gabriel, or his dad. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

  “We’ve resigned ourselves to the fact that we may never understand the ‘how.’ Not in our lifetime, at least.” He leaned against my shoulder a little. “Or yours. Not for a long time. If we will, it hasn’t been written anywhere yet. My father would have found it.”

  “Speaking of found, what did your father find? You said he found something, but you never told me what, or when.” I said the last word more like a whisper.

  Gabriel’s mood changed instantly. I felt him stiffen a little, even though he tried not to let it show. “He won’t even give me the details, probably because he knew you would ask, and I might not be able to refrain from telling you. Whatever it is, he is both excited beyond measure, and apprehensive. He has never been secretive with me before, so this is difficult for both of us. I do know he will handle it the right way, whatever ‘it’ might be.”