Chapter 5
Head over Heels
November 30th, 1998 Montauk Point
MATT all of a sudden stood on a cliff top, looking out across the Atlantic Ocean. Page no longer held him in a tight embrace, but her right arm was clasping his as her angry eyes burned into him. Then he felt the ground crumble from underneath her feet. She was falling and pulling him over the edge along with her.
He dropped straight down, flattening himself spread-eagle on the ground, stretching out over the eroding bluff. He held her arm with all his strength, her entire body dangling below. The harsh, bitterly cold wind whipped across his back, and the glare of the sun in his eyes forced him to squint.
Matt’s arm was growing heavy with the effort of supporting her weight. “Stop flailing and see if you can get your feet up against the cliff face.” Then he remembered that she was in bare feet. Or had been a few seconds ago when she’d been in the bed at the clinic. What in creation had happened?
Miraculously Page managed to get a foothold—the pull on his arm lessened. She hadn’t screamed yet, but she did sound a little strained as she yelled up at him. “I could use some help here.”
“Okay, I’m going to try and drag you up. Get ready.”
He slowly rose up into a crouch so he could use his legs under him to brace and add some strength to his effort. He took a long, deep breath. Then he stood and yanked and leaned backward pushing as hard as he could with his heels, all in one motion.
Page came scrambling over the edge of the bluff and flew into Matt’s arms. Again. He smiled, thinking he could get used to this kind of treatment. Page pushed him away and glared.
She glanced around then and yelped, “Where’s my watch?”
Matt started to rub the top of his head. She was only now becoming hysterical when her life was no longer in danger. “The watch?”
Page looked back at the cliff. “The watch, you idiot. You were holding it when we Traveled. You should’ve still been holding it as we arrived.” Her face was white. “You didn’t drop it over the cliff, did you?”
Matt started to consider what had actually happened. Teleportation? He wouldn’t have imagined seeing research that advanced in his lifetime, but he couldn’t deny the evidence of his eyes. He looked around and knew where they were standing. And it was a far cry from where they’d been the moment before.
“My device!” Page dropped to her knees and started searching in the grass.
Matt tried to recall the details. The watch had been in his left hand when he dropped himself to the ground. His eyes zeroed in on the very spot, and he squatted to grab it before she could.
They both stood at the same time, and he then noticed the shape she was in—the paper gown she’d been wearing was torn and stained with dirt. Her knees were freshly scraped, as were her bare feet. And despite the big bandage on her head, the strong wind was blowing her red hair into a fury. And it only made her more beautiful.
Matt grinned. “You’re quite a sight, you know.”
She didn’t forget to glare at Matt as she made a grab for the watch in his hand, but he snatched it away. She hugged herself against the cold wind as it whipped around them. “Give it to me.”
Matt shook his head. “Not until you explain to me what’s going on.” He noticed she was shivering. “And that should wait until after we get you some warmer clothes.”
Page clenched her teeth. “And how are you going to do that? I don’t know where you’ve brought us—do you even have any idea what year you Traveled us to?”
What year? That implied time travel. He had a hard time believing that when she seemed so vague about everything.
Matt pointed down the coast to a lighthouse in the distance. “I do know where we are. Montauk Point. In Suffolk County.” Matt saw the confusion on her face. “On Long Island.”
“Long Island?” Page drew out the question as if she were tasting the words. “Isn’t that somewhere near New York City?”
Matt shook his head. She looked and sounded like a mental case, but he was actually beginning to put stock in the idea that she was a time-traveler. It would be better than an extraterrestrial.
“That’s kind of difficult to explain, to someone who doesn’t already know.” He looked back at the lighthouse. “Where we are right now, it’s not technically part of New York City, but it’s close enough. Most of the island is actually part of the city.” Matt sighed. “Now let’s get you some clothes.”
Page scoffed. “And again, how do you propose to do that?”
Matt considered. It looked like early morning, and he couldn’t see anyone in the immediate vicinity. Thankfully. It must be the off season. And then he realized it was far too cold for summer. If they really had time-traveled he had to believe that not only might it be a different year, but a different time of year. Somehow that was more difficult to accept. Because it jars the senses.
“I came out here once with a friend. I seem to remember there being a souvenir shop around here somewhere. It should have something better than what you’re wearing now.”
Page shivered again. “I don’t have any money on me.”
Matt pulled out his wallet and started counting. “I have some cash. It ought to be enough. If we’ve really traveled in time, I guess I shouldn’t try to use my credit card.”
“You need to check the dates on your money. If you’ve taken us into the past, you don’t want to try and use money that was printed in the future.”
The past? Matt scratched behind his ear. “And how will I know that, if I don’t know the year.”
Page bared her teeth in an approximation of a smile. “Indeed. Why should I say? You’ve yet to convince me that I can trust you.”
Matt sighed. “Even so, we’ll have to cooperate to a degree.”
“Then consult that watch you’re holding. My watch.”
He glanced down warily, ready for another attempt to wrest the thing from him. What he saw on the watch face was the time and date. The thirtieth of November. Nineteen ninety-eight. They’d traveled into the past. That’ll set the cat among the pigeons.
Page sighed. “Well? What year is it?”
Matt grinned. She looked enough like an escaped mental patient as it was. “I’m holding onto this until I get my own answers, remember?” And so you don’t run away on me.
She cocked her head as she appraised him. “I think you know more than you should already. You aren’t so stupid you haven’t realized that we Traveled in time. To which idea you’re adapting rather quickly.”
Matt thought she sounded suspicious of him. “I am studying theoretical physics. So the theories of time travel are rather familiar to me.” He smiled at her and reached out to grab her hand. “I don’t want you running away from me before you’ve explained a bit more than that.”
Page sniffed. “Even if you give me back my device, I can’t Travel until it’s recharged anyway.”
Matt grinned. “And when I said I didn’t want you skipping out on me, I wasn’t just talking about time travel. Now, let’s go get you some clothes.”
He dragged Page inland until they reached the souvenir shop he remembered. He opened up his wallet to check that he had plenty of older bills that wouldn’t raise any red flags. He certainly wouldn’t dare try using his credit card.
He set her right in front of the shop window so he could keep an eye on her. “Don’t you move from this spot. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me what kind of clothes I want you to get me?”
Matt sighed. “I don’t think I’ll have much of a choice.”
“Heels. Get me a nice pair of high-heeled shoes, and as for the color, it’ll depend on the dress—”
Matt held up his hand. “Stop. I wouldn’t buy you a pair of high heels even if I could, which I can’t see being an option anyway. Or likely anything else you’re about to ask me for. So don’t bother. It’s my money, you know. You’ll have to make do with what I choose for you.�
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Page folded her arms and frowned. “Well, what are you standing around dawdling for? I need some clothes. And before I freeze to death.”
Matt shook his head as he opened the door to the tinkle of chimes. He didn’t want to leave her out there alone, but he couldn’t imagine what a clerk or shopkeeper might make of Page in her present condition.
His eyes scanned the entire shop in a few moments. He flipped through the meager selection as rapidly as he could until he came across a quadruple extra large sweatshirt with a picture of the Montauk Point lighthouse. Then he grabbed a pair of one-size-fits-most beach sandals. It was all about as far from the dress and heels Page wanted as possible.
He took his treasures up to the quaint wooden counter that served as the checkout. He nodded at the sweet, gray-haired old lady who sat there ready to talk his ear off no doubt. He didn’t want to be rude, so he pre-empted her.
“I’m sorry, but my girl is getting impatient, and I’d rather not keep her waiting.” Matt tossed three twenties on the counter. “Keep the change.”
He breezed out the door and found Page had already disappeared despite the short time he’d been inside the shop. His head swiveled in every direction looking for the red hair. He spotted her right away—as she was being led off toward town by a uniformed police officer. Blast.
“Page!” He walked fast toward them, but didn’t run. They both looked suspicious enough as it was.
The man glanced back, keeping one hand firmly around Page’s arm. “You know this young lady?”
Matt slowed and nodded to the officer as he approached the two of them. “I do. She was supposed to be waiting for me.”
The policeman squinted at him, then looked to Page. “This man hasn’t abducted you or anything, has he?”
Page frowned. “Well, I suppose you could say that he did kidnap me.”
The officer frowned himself, and he kept a firm grip on Page’s upper arm while his other hand hovered over his holstered weapon. That’s a relief. As bad as the circumstances might appear, the policeman wasn’t being hasty—he was glancing back and forth between the two of them and taking in every detail. That was good, too.
He addressed Page again. “In what way, miss?”
Matt spoke up before she could say more. “She got herself banged up, as you can see, officer. I’ve got a doctor friend, and I took her to the clinic he works at.” It was so easy to make up a story when it happened to be the truth. “She took off from there, but I don’t think she intended to come here. I doubt she knows what she wants.”
Page glared at him. “I want the clothes you said you’d be getting me.” She glanced around at the still and empty morning as if every eye was on her. “As for where I want to go—I want you to take me into Manhattan. If you can.”
Matt nodded. “That’s easy enough. Wherever you want to go.” He gave the officer a meaningful look and kept nodding. The man gave an almost imperceptible nod in return. Page looking like an escaped mental patient might be what kept them both from being detained by the local authorities.
Matt held out the sweatshirt and sandals. “Put these on so the nice officer doesn’t have to arrest you for indecent exposure.”
The officer released her and watched as she accepted her new clothes with a pout. “Is this the best you could do?”
Matt took a deep breath to contain his annoyance. “That sweatshirt is the largest they had. It’s big enough to fit you like a dress, and be at least a little modest. And you’re welcome to buy yourself some high heels whenever you can, but with those sandals at least you won’t be going around in your bare feet.”
The officer sighed and gave Matt a commiserating smile. “Well, I’ll let you take care of her, then.”
Matt offered a weak smile of his own in return. “Thank you for your concern, Officer.”
“Have a nice day, sir.” He tipped the brim of his hat at Page. “Mam.”
With that, the man ambled away, casting the occasional glance back. But Page was worth a glance. Or three.
Only once the policeman had disappeared from view did Matt place his hand to his brow to check that he wasn’t drenched with sweat. His skin was bone dry, and cold.
By that time, Page had pulled the sweatshirt on and was glaring at him again. “This ‘dress’ is like wearing a big bag. It makes me look shapeless.” She slipped on the sandals. “These do nothing for me.”
“They protect the soles of your feet.” He looked at said feet and the slender legs attached and took another deep breath. “I think that outfit does wonderful things for you.” Seeing her continued glare, he hurried on. “You can find clothes more to your liking in Manhattan. You really want to go?”
“I said so, didn’t I? I need to go to the bank and get some money.”
“If only it was that easy. You need an account.” And money in it.
“I do have an account. Sort of.”
Of course it would be something complicated. He only hoped she knew what she was talking about, and that if she did have trouble she would let him know so he could help. Before she landed them in more hot water.
“Well, the LIRR begins around here. It’ll take the two of us straight into Manhattan. But I really think we should find you some more clothes before we get on the train, and especially before we get into the city. You still look rather—” Matt was unsure how to phrase what he had to say in a way which wouldn’t offend her.
“Underdressed,” suggested Page.
Matt nodded. “At least you’re safe enough now to go in and choose clothes for yourself.” And have only yourself to blame for whatever you end up with. “So let’s find some shop where you can at least get a pair of pants and not draw the wrong kind of attention.” But she would draw attention—wherever she went, and whatever clothes she was wearing.
Page finally smiled. “I’d like that.”
Matt hoped he had enough money for what she did find. “We still need to have that long talk about who you are, and where or when you come from and what the blazes is the deal with this watch.”
“I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”
“You already have.” Matt stuffed the watch into his jeans pocket and steered Page down the street to where he hoped to find a clothing store.
“While it’s not a hard and fast rule, we shouldn’t reveal ourselves. None of our rules are rigid. We’re meant to use our own good judgment.”
Good judgment? Matt wondered if they knew Page well when they suggested that one.
She walked beside him, sandals flopping. “Like when I asked that nice officer what year it was. So now I know. Too.”
Matt smiled to himself. No wonder the man so readily had bought into the idea of Page as a mental case—she not only looked the part, she acted it.
Matt glanced at her and nodded. “So now you know we did travel into the past. A lot of scientists don’t even think that’s possible, but I disagree, and now I know I’m right. I even think I understand the reason those rules of yours aren’t hard-and-fast.”
Page looked up into his face with interest. “How can you understand? I don’t really myself.”
“Well, mathematically speaking, traveling into the future or the past is exactly the same thing. You should appreciate that.”
“My kind of math is statistical modeling of human behavior. I don’t do physics.”
“Oh.” Matt looked down at the side of her face as she squinted into the wind. Page didn’t look like she was from another world, but in a very real sense she existed in a completely different universe from him. “Anyway, the presumption that it’s impossible to travel backward in time is based on the paradox principle—that if you changed anything in the past, you’d have created a paradox, which couldn’t happen, so you can’t travel into the past.”
She yawned. “But you can. We have.”
“Exactly. You prove the presumption unfounded.” Matt wondered if this was so commonplace in her time that she simply couldn’t be bo
thered with the science. “There are a couple fundamental theories that try to explain how travel into the past might be possible. One is the concept of multiple realities, with every change made in the timeline creating a new, separate branch of reality. Different from the ‘old version’ of events—before someone went back and changed history.”
“And the other theory?”
“The one I prefer, because it makes more sense to me. Well, mathematically—” he winked at Page, “the past and the future aren’t different. That’s just a function of our limited perception. The past is as to-be-determined as the future, and the future has already happened just as much as the past.”
Page frowned. “That makes my head hurt.”
“It did get a hard knock.” Matt grinned. “But that’s probably why most people don’t like to think about time travel that way—it’s too difficult for our minds to conceive. Our brains, our natural senses, aren’t designed to experience time properly. That shortcoming keeps us from being able to fully understand the implications of the math.”
She shook her head as he led her onto a quiet, idyllic street filled with quaint shops. He could use this as an illustration.
Matt stopped where they stood and tried to explain. He pointed at a fashion boutique. “For you, buying whatever clothes you get in that shop is in your future—it hasn’t happened yet and you can choose the clothes you want.” That I can afford to pay for. “But three years in the future, if I’d come here, whatever clothes you’re going to buy would already have been sold, even though you have yet to pick them out here in the past.”
Page took a deep breath and sighed. “And now my head hurts even more. Let’s go get those clothes you were talking about.” She gave him a little smile as she started for the store. “But as it happens, that sounds an awful lot like the way the professor tried to explain time travel to us.”
Matt smiled to himself and followed her into a small, scented shop. This really wasn’t the place to find inexpensive clothes. Not that Page was looking for cheap, but they were limited to what Matt could pay cash for, and here his funds wouldn’t go far. He would have to restrain Page from picking out whatever she wanted.
Millennium Crash Page 5
