“You’re getting there,” she said brightly, then took a clinical tone. “So, which do we do first: the smartphone search or the letters?”
James took off the hat and reached into his carry-on bag for his wallet. He pulled out the silver ancient Greek coin he had found hidden inside the sheath of the old map, that ‘historical document’ he bought last Halloween that had set this mystery in motion. He twisted the shiny drachma back and forth, showing it to her quickly. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads. Hey, is that the coin you had to grow up to get, so your grandfather—or father or whatever he was back then—could go back in time?” asked Leah.
James flipped the coin. “Heads for the smartphone, tails for the letters. It’s tails. Here,” he said and handed her the bundle of letters. He pushed down the quilt, scooted under the sheet, and made sure it was tucked in his lap. He looked down, patted the sheet, and commented, “Gap insurance: this fly doesn’t have buttons. Yes, this is the coin—here.”
Leah took it gingerly. “Oh, shit! This is just like the one my mother had on when she was in the hospital. Hers was on a piece of black ribbon. She wore it like a necklace. If your,” she nodded as if to ask a question, “father?” James returned the nod, “had one of these, and he disappeared, and my mother had one, and she disappeared…whoa!” She set the coin down in James’s hand. “Do you have any idea how it works?”
“Yes, I have an idea, but only an idea. Let’s read. Maybe this will help explain it.”
Leah cuddled up to James and looked over his shoulder as he read aloud.
Dear James,
I know it seems like you saw me only yesterday, but if all has gone according to instructions, you will be getting this 230 years after I have written it. I think you can verify this if you have the paper dated. Remember that strange man, Simon? He does have something to do with us, or rather me. I followed him into the park, and I accidentally fell through time. Right now, I am living with your ancestors. I actually married your great—I don’t know how many times over—uncle’s son. I think I found the Revolutionary War relative you were looking for. That is, if you were looking for Lord Julian Wallace Hart, brother of Lord Anthony Melbourne. Julian’s a wonderful man, and his (step) son and I have three children (triplets!).
The reason for my letter is that I want you to contact my daughter, Leah Madigan. Please, share this:
Leah,
I am alive and well in 1781. All the stories by Lisa Sinclaire are pretty much true. I will show up again on August 4, 2013 at the hospital you work in, but you will have to let me return home to my new family. You are bright and grown up now, and can live life on your own, but my babies and my new husband, Wallace Pomeroy-Hart, need me. Sarah and Jody Pomeroy are as wonderful as you told me and as the history (not science fiction or fantasy) books say. It is possible to change history on a small scale or I wouldn’t be here with your siblings who are nearly 200 years older than you.
James, as of August 4, 2013, Leah is working at the Moses H. Cone Memorial Hospital in Greensboro, not far from our little cafe. She was, will be, my recovery room nurse. So, if you have a chance to talk to her in person, would you please explain what happened and let her read this letter? I love her very much and don’t want her to worry about me. Oh, and I have a new first name: Evie. I’ll write more as time goes by, but please do not read any other letters (I hope to get a journal started for you/her) until you get a chance to speak with her and let this settle in for both of you.
Hugs and kisses from me and your great-many-times-over uncles and love from, Mom
Leah pulled away from him after he had finished reading. “So that’s why you knew Bibb was familiar with the letters—she asked about my mother, Evie? And she had triplets, so that means I’m not an only child anymore.” She paused, then asked, “Hey, have you ever heard of Lisa Sinclaire?”
“Yes, and this is the very strange part. Actually, all of this is very strange, so let’s just say that this is another hugely odd factor. Just as I realized that I hadn’t brought anything, other than this,” he said as he tapped the pile of letters, “to read on the plane from London, the flight attendant came through the cabin with a basket of books and magazines for perusal. She suggested I read ‘Through the Stones’ by Lisa Sinclaire. I had that book in my hands for the first time just moments before I read your mother’s letter. Well, I read the letter—which you know is a big shock in itself—and then there it was, on my lap, all ready for me to do the historical research. My grandfather, er, father, never had her books around, as far as I know. But since he had read and probably studied these,” James fanned the letters, “he probably had her books hidden, not wanting to influence me with her stories. Someone other than Bibb apparently knows something, possibly a,” James laughed menacingly and shook his face in front of Leah’s, “secret agent or,” he returned his normal tone, “Perhaps it was fate that had a hand in all of this.”
“Let’s put that fate idea of yours on hold for a moment. I personally don’t subscribe to that theory, but I’ve never been one to stomp on another’s beliefs, either. I want to—well, I really don’t want to, but I think I’m ready to—see what’s on this.” Leah picked up the white-smudged smartphone with her thumb and index finger and held it away from her, as if it were a poopy diaper. “Would you do the honors? I’m not brave enough.” She dropped the phone into his open hand and returned to her comfort spot, snuggled against his shoulder.
“Okay, here goes,” he said, and powered on the phone.
“Hello, there. Would you tell Dani you found her phone? I guess I’ve lost it again. You can call…”
Leah reached across James and tapped the menu icon on the phone’s screen. She had found her nerve. “Excuse me, I can drive now.”
James nodded and handed her the phone. Leah sat up straight and pulled her body away from his, feeling braver. “It’s just like my phone, an Almost Alchemy prototype. I just want to bypass this, this old stuff,” she said sniffling.
James reached over and grabbed a wad of fresh tissues for her. She nodded thanks, and used one hand to wipe her nose, the other to navigate to the audio recordings menu. Click, tap, tap. The file contained only prerecorded music files and the voice mail greeting. Leah could tell by the details column that they were all from early 2012, months before her mother disappeared.
Click, tap, tap. Photo files. Leah scanned the files without blinking, her face empty of emotions. “Phew,” she huffed, as she closed the folder. “No new pictures, just old stuff. All of the file dates are pre October 31, 2012. She didn’t even take pictures on the day she left. One more folder, and then I can breathe right again.”
She tapped on the video folder icon. “Oh, crap. Here, you open it. Oh, no…wait…” Leah bolted into the bathroom, slammed the toilet seat up, and heaved.
James didn’t ask if she was okay. To him, there was nothing worse than someone trying to talk to you while you were vomiting. And, if she was tossing her pizza and beer, there was something obviously wrong. He stood behind her and helped hold her hair out of her face, gently pulling back the stray strands that had fallen away from her one-handed grasp. She finally finished, but didn’t bring her head up. James grabbed a washcloth for her from the overhead tubular metal towel shelf while he kept hold of her hair with the other.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, as she used it to wipe her mouth.
James stepped back to the sink, unwrapped a glass tumbler, and filled it halfway with cool water. She accepted it with a grimace of embarrassment, shut the door, and turned back to the commode to rinse and spit.
Palm out like a butler with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, he was ready for her when she came out.
Leah accepted his gift—a warm, damp washcloth—and moved to the sink to perform a more thorough job of washing her face, hopefully removing some of her terror at the same time.
James wanted to hold her to him, comfort her, but realized that she was going to have to make the first move. Instea
d, he walked over to the bed, picked up the used tissues, threw them in the garbage, and rearranged the sheets and pillows. He folded back the quilt, and then sat at the end of the bed, waiting for her to make that move.
Leah looked over at him and tried to smile. Embarrassed that her weak stomach had betrayed her, she turned away briefly, still shaky, then came back around, her eyes fixed with steely determination—she would follow through with looking at that smartphone, no matter what. Just as she began to declare her resolve, he looked into her eyes. She averted his gaze and looked down, down to his lap.
“Mph!” She managed to transform her outburst of laughter, converting it to a noise halfway between a cough and a strangled snort. She turned around, went back into the bathroom, and came back out. “Here,” she said, and threw a hand towel at him. “It looks like the monster’s trying to come out.”
James looked down and blushed at the sight of his limp penis poking through the gap of his yellow and green boxer shorts. He quickly grabbed the white towel and covered himself. “Sorry about that,” he said, still blushing red. “I think I’ll go back and apply the gap insurance.” He stood up with the impromptu apron covering the front of his skivvies, pulled back the sheets, and slid in. “So, now that I’ve both distracted and entertained you—are you ready for the main show?”
“You know, you talk about fate. Well, I believe that God has all of this,” she waved her hand towards the door and the little pile composed of old letters and the smartphone, “under control. I think that how we deal with everything is what makes us who we are. There are mysteries to be solved, and mysteries to be accepted. Wisdom is knowing which is which. Let’s watch the video that was made on March tenth of this year.”
James pulled back the sheets so Leah could slide in next to him. What a bright and sensitive woman! Why hadn’t he met someone like her sooner? A smile crept across his face. If what she had just said was true, God wanted her in his life now, not earlier, not later. And now was a good time for him. “Ready?” he asked, grateful all over again for her presence.
Leah snuggled up close to him, clutched his arm, and nodded. She was warm and fragrant, and he was very glad that the sheet was in his lap. The stressful situation they shared hadn’t been relayed to his maleness—‘it’ had a mind of its own. He bit his lip and double-clicked the newest video file.
“A cell phone is a communications device. It often has a GPS in it, that’s global positioning system, which uses satellites to pinpoint its location. This smartphone version can take pictures, cruise the internet, do calculations, play music, and much, much more.”
“That’s my mother,” Leah said, half as a question, half as a statement.
“Yeah, I know, but who’s that?” James said, then decided to be mum and watch the rest of the show.
Dani/Evie continued, “Oh, when I remember 21st century stuff, I forget that you don’t know what I’m talking about. That probably sounded Greek to you, didn’t it?”
“No,” the man in the video started off slowly, “I ken how to speak a bit of Greek, and that is no Greek. The only words I recognized were pictures and music. Are ye tellin’ me that this wee box can make music and all those other things ye were talkin’ about?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if I want to turn it on. I’m afraid it’ll be like Pandora’s Box. I don’t know if there are any evils in there, but I’ll bet there is information about my past life in it. I don’t want to know about who I was and where I came from—at least not yet. I like it here and now in 1781.”
“Are ye sayin’ that ye canna miss what ye dinna ken ye had?” the very big red-haired man asked.
Dani/Evie paused. She started to speak, then stopped, started, and then stopped again. Finally she said, “How do you say it, ‘better the devil you know than the devil you don’t’?”
“Aye, that’s it, and true it is. What do ye want to do with this? Ye could use it as a mirror. It has a wee light on it. It would be easy to find in the dark.”
“And why would I need a mirror in the dark?” Dani/Evie asked with a chuckle. “Thanks, Jody, you always seem to make me feel better. Just put it in a safe place, and if I get curious about it, I’ll come to you. We can look at it together.”
“I’ll put it back in here,” the man who was evidently named Jody said as he put it into his sporran. “It’s unlikely anyone will take it without me kennin’ about it if it’s in here. Now, since it’s jest the two of us, how about an early dinner? I’ll chase down some eggs if ye wouldna mind fixin’ some of those egg burritos. José sent along some more of those long keepin’ tomatoes fer ye.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll get right on it.”
There was nothing but darkness—black screen—on the video portion of the little movie, but they could still hear incidental sounds of movement. Obviously, Jody’s sporran was moving when he walked and bent over looking for eggs, but there wasn’t any video. James and Leah shifted their positions, but never took their eyes off the smartphone’s little monitor. A few moments later, there was dialogue:
“Ho, there, Jessie.” The voice was Jody’s, and the clanking of leather and metal made it sound as if he was grabbing reins or a halter. “Sarah, what are ye doin’ home now? I thought ye had a bairn to bring into the world. And why are ye ridin’ so late in the day? Ye ken it isna always safe.”
“Hello, Jody; glad to see you, too,” a woman with a thick English, not Scottish, accent replied coldly. Evidently her name was Sarah.
“Sorry, ye gave me a fright,” Jody’s voice sounded apologetic. “Are ye ailin’?” There was no reply, but it sounded as if she was dismounting. “Then why did ye come back so soon and so close to mirk?”
There was the sound of two bodies close—by the squish and thunk noises, probably hugging with the sporran in between them—and then the swish, swish of walking. After a moment, there were stifled sounds of animals in a barn, then the conversation began anew:
“Now dinna be givin’ her a sair wame with too many oats,” Jody’s voice scolded, then he murmured in Gaelic to the nag. “Yes, yer a good mare, and I thank ye, but dinna be lettin’ well-meanin’ women knot up yer wame.”
Sounds of movement began again, then wood smacking on wood—evidently the woman was returning the second helping of oats back to a lidded wooden box.
“What happened out there today? Are Mrs. Donaldson and her bairn awright? And where’s Hannah? Did she stay with her?” Jody asked.
“Mrs. Donaldson is fine. I think she miscalculated her due date by a month. She is plenty big all right, but not ready for delivery. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure I heard two heartbeats when I checked her. I left Hannah with her, just in case. She’ll be a big help as a babysitter, cook, and housekeeper. Those four little Donaldson girls sure have a lot of energy. If Mrs. Donaldson is having twins, she should be on bed rest for the next few weeks. I don’t think Mac can handle his chores, the cooking, cleaning, and all those little girls without an extra hand. Hannah was more than willing. Girls would rather do anyone else’s chores but their own. That, I think, will never change. Mona was the same way,” said Sarah.
“Then why did ye come home tonight? Ye could have waited fer the morn and not afeart me,” Jody said.
“Oh, that isn’t why I came back early. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt like Ian was here. I wanted to get back here and give him a piece of my mind. Now that I’m here, though, I wonder why I acted so impulsively. He’s not here, is he?” Sarah asked sheepishly.
“Nooo,” Jody answered slowly, “but he was.”
“I knew it!” exclaimed Sarah. There was silence and then a snort. “What happened? Did he see Evie, and did she see him?”
“Nae, they dinna see each other. He dinna want to see me either, but I came up behind him—and he dinna get a chance to run and hide, the coward. He dinna even ask about the bairns, or bairn. I dinna think he kens there’s more than one. He lied to me, sayin’ that he’d been castrated, that Evie sho
uld go on with her life and get marrit to someone else.”
“The bastard,” Sarah huffed. There was a moment of silence. “Sorry, no disrespect meant to your sister.”
“Aye, the word may be wrong, but I feel the same. By the way, he did say to say ‘hallo’ to you.”
There was another pause, this one longer, then Sarah said, “Hmph.”
“I agree with that,” said Jody. “Come on in. We’re havin’ egg burritos for supper, a la Evie. By the way, she dinna ask about Ian, and I dinna offer up what he said. She’s in a good mood now, and I dinna want to spoil it.”
There was the sound of more walking then a new voice. “Sarah!” was voiced loudly and excitedly.
James and Leah looked at each other. “Mom,” Leah said just as James said, “Your Mom.”
They turned their attention back to the smartphone screen. It was still dark, but now there were kitchen noises—pans clanking, dishes banging, chairs moving. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather sit down and take a load off?” It was Dani/Evie again. “You must have ridden all day today, or at least I’ll bet it feels like it.”
“That’s for sure. By the way, it looks like Mrs. Donaldson is going to be the first to have twins in the neighborhood. It turns out she isn’t due for a month or so. I left Hannah with her to watch the girls and take care of the house so she could get some rest. You are putting your feet up several times a day, aren’t you?” Sarah asked in a clinical tone.
Dani/Evie replied, “Yes, ma’am, I am! Hey, I have some news—unless Jody already told you.”
There was a long pause, as if everyone was looking at each other. Dani/Evie continued, “Ian came back. And get this, he didn’t come back for me—big surprise.” She sounded very sarcastic with the remark. She continued, “He came back for my old cell phone!”
“Cell phone,” asked Sarah, “as in cellular phone?” There was another pause before Sarah continued. “Where did you have a cellular phone hidden? I never saw you take one out of your bag.”
Aye, I am a Fairy (The Fairies Saga Book 2) Page 12
