by Sharon Haste
Chapter Ten
Charli endures the whirlwind of memories, the dizziness as nauseating as the first time she travelled, and her hand wraps around Tobi's. They land in the same spot beneath the spreading fig.
'What tha....?’ 'Tobi's incoherent as he sits on the grass.
Charli still has hold of his hand when they hear a splash. She heaves him up, dragging him behind her. 'We've got to hurry,' she screams. 'You've got to help me, Tobi. Run.'
Tobi resists; fear has put lead in every step. Her own panic rises as she drags him, resisting, toward the water. She releases his hand in frustration and sprints into the night. Without hesitation, she shucks her shoes, drops the backpack, and wades in. She swims to the middle this time before diving in. She passes the other Charli, making her way to the surface. She gets to Ash first; she is already halfway up before they see her again. Past Charli grabs his shoulder, and they drag him to the surface together. Tobi hovers in the shallows, concern on his features; his eyes flick from one to the other as they move toward him, dragging Ash between them.
Once clear of the water, present Charli shouts orders. She gets Ash on his back and squeezes the water out. She gives him the required breaths before pressing on his chest with precise rhythm and speed. The other Charli stands with her hands by her sides and her hair plastered to her head. Tears streak her cheeks as she calls her brother's name. Charli wants to slap her and tell her to shut up, but she concentrates on Ash. Tobi hovers, not knowing what to do; he is dazed and confused. She works on Ash, her arms aching and throat raw, until Tobi's hand squeezes her shoulder.
'He's gone, Charli. Ya gotta let him go. There's someone comin'.'
She looks up to a light splaying across the grass and a distant bark. Her other self is running toward the man with the Labrador and screaming for help.
'What do we do now?'
'We've gotta go before he sees us,' Charli says. She rises on shaky feet, grabs her shoes and backpack, and reaches for Tobi's hand before wrenching the pendant off.
They find themselves back in the walk-in-wardrobe, dizzy with their own swirl of memories. Both pause, suck in their breath, and wait. Silence surrounds them. Cautious, Charli grabs Tobi's hand and pulls him through the bedroom and down the stairs with her heart in her throat. They race through an empty kitchen and across the veranda to the back garden. They're soon surrounded by splaying ferns, coloured shrubs, and a choir of insects whirring with a feverish pitch. It takes a minute for Tobi to punch her arm and shout. 'What the hell was that?'
'It's a long story,' Charli says. 'We've got to go.' She grabs his arm and pushes him toward the back gate. Once through the gate, they run through Mrs P's overgrown garden and onto the street, keeping a brisk pace until they're into the next suburb. Tobi drags her to a park and shoves her onto a bench.
'Spill, Richter,' he says. 'What just happened?'
Panting, she pleads for understanding with her eyes wide. She digs into her pocket and retrieves the cross, telling him what she knows and swinging it between them. He frowns and is quiet. She babbles on; she spills the story of her first unsuccessful attempt to save her family.
'I think that's what I'm meant to do. Can't think why else it takes me to the lake on that night.'
Tobi shrugs. 'Who knows whatcha can do with that thing?' he says warily. 'Maybe that old girl knows.'
'That's why I went to her house,' Charli says. 'It's a shame she's in the hospital. I hope she's all right. Do you think we could visit her there? Find out what she knows.'
'Too risky, ya might be seen.'
She nods, and they both stare at the cross on her palm. She folds her hand around it and pushes it into her pocket.
'So ya reckon this necklace thing can take ya back in time whenever ya want?'
'I'm not sure; that's why I wanted to talk to Mrs P.' She gives Tobi a sombre look. 'I know the pendant can take me back, but I don't know anything else about it, except it was made by the Incas. I don't know how many times I can use it or even if you can change what's happened. All I can think of when I'm there is saving them, but the resuscitation's not working. I have to think a bit harder about it and try to come up with something that'll work.' She frowns, staring at the cross, and then looks back at Tobi. 'Mrs P said something about love being the key. I don't know what that means. Do I have to love them more or less? And then I can't help thinking that I might get stuck there or change something that has a follow-on effect for other people.'
'Like what?'
'I dunno. What if I save them, and then terrible things keep happening or I change someone's else's life in some obscure way? You never know what messing with time will do. There's sure to be consequences, and I don't want to make things worse.'
Tobi frowns. 'What kinda consequences do ya reckon?'
'Any change to the past is going to make the future different. Say, for instance, if you went back and got the lottery numbers, and you won a few million dollars. Think of how your life would change.'
'That'd be awesome! Do ya think we could do that?'
'It may be awesome for you, but what about the people who were meant to win that money? What will it mean for them? Their lives will change, too. And once you do something, you can't undo it. It's scary.'
'I'd still take the lottery,' Tobi says.
Charli thumps his arm. She'd always had enough money and can't imagine a life where you never had enough.
'You get my point though, don't you?'
'I guess, but getting back to the lottery. Do ya think it's possible?'
'I'm not sure. I just want to focus on getting my family back so my life will go back to normal.'
Tobi nods. 'Ya know, if ya'd told me about this and I hadn't gone there myself, I'd think ya were nuts.'
'That's why I don't want to tell anyone. The last thing I need is to be locked in some psych ward for being crazy.'
'Well, I don't think ya mad. I think it rocks.' He lifts his hand and gives her a high five.
'But I don't know what to do with it. I feel like the pendant can help, but I'm not sure how. Both times it's taken me to the lake at the moment the car goes in, and it's too late to save them both. I can't even get Ash back.'
Tobi cocks his head in thought. 'Have ya tried givin' yourself more time? Going back earlier?'
'No. I don't know how. It takes me back to the same time. I don't even know if I can control it.' Charli thinks about the possibilities of going back earlier in the day and having more time and maybe some equipment to save her mum and brother. 'How do you think that could work? I don't even know why it takes me back then.'
'Maybe because that's what's on ya mind. Have ya tried thinkin' about something that happened earlier in the day or even the day before?'
'No, the accident is all I think about. Maybe you're right, and that's why I keep going back to that time. I want to change it so bad that it keeps picking up on that vibe.'
'Makes sense, dunnit?'
'Yeah, makes sense, but how am I supposed to change it? Do you think that just by focussing on a different time before the accident, it will take me back before it happened?'
'I reckon it's worth a try.'
'Do you think it would have to be something bigger than the accident or just a change of focus? I can't think of anything that even comes close.'
'Maybe Jael can help? I reckon we should do a computer search on the cross and see what we can find out about it. Maybe get some ideas. Jael's gonna freak when he finds out.' Tobi's face is animated and jubilant.
'No,' Charli barks, her face set. 'It's my pendant, and I say who knows about it or not.' Her tone is bossy.
Tobi's face falls. 'But Jael's cool; he won't spill.'
'Don't you get it, Tobi? This necklace could be the only thing that brings my family back and that gives me my life back. I don't care about how cool it is to tell your friends. I don't want him to know. Otherwise, I could mess it up and never see them again. You got that?'
She sounds mean a
nd selfish, but she doesn't care. He can sulk all he likes; it's her pendant. She stares at his sullen, downcast face and dares him to challenge her. He remains silent, not looking at her.
'I want them back. I want my life back, and I'm going to do everything I can to get them back. You can either help me or leave. It's your choice.'
There's an awkward silence between them as Tobi mulls over her words. 'I get that ya want ya family back,' he says. 'I'd do the same if I could. I was just trying to help.'
She wonders if he's thinking about his mum and has a twinge of guilt. 'I know. I just don't want to tell people. I thought I made that clear.'
The air between them is stiff.
'So are you in or out?' Charli asks, rising to her feet.
'In,' he mutters as he gets up. 'On one condition.'
'What?'
'That when this is over, you help me get what I want.'
'What's that?'
'If it's possible, I want my mum back. But if not, I want to give Rosa some money and make her life easier for all she's done for me. I wanna win the lotto.'
She smiles to herself. 'Tobi, if any of that's possible, I'll be glad to help you.'
He grins, sticking out his hand. He gives hers a firm shake.
'You got yourself a partner, Richter.'
She smiles back, relieved.
'So, is there anywhere else we can stay besides Rosa's? I was thinking of a motel, somewhere low-key where no one will ask questions.'
She waits for his response, hoping he has some ideas and maybe find a place that does have the internet. Searching the internet is a good idea if it gives them some more information on the necklace. She's not sure it will though. If only she had her phone, she could look it up in seconds. She feels lost without the technology she's used to having at her fingertips. While Tobi thinks, she digs around in her backpack and pulls out two fifty-dollar notes, holding them out to him.
'As promised, for helping me this morning,' she says.
He looks up, surprised. 'I didn't do much.'
'Find me a place to stay and consider the job done. I can pay cash for the room.'
'Thanks,' he says, his grin broad and his dimples popping up.
He takes the money, folding and tucking it into his pocket. It lightens his mood, and he begins to chatter about possible motels and ways of saving Clare and Ash. Thirst drives them to a corner store where Charli plies him with cola and hot chips, buying a bag of supplies for later. He reassures her that there are a number of discreet places less than half an hour's walk away, where cash got you a room with no questions asked, no matter what you've done.
Clouds darken the sky as they enter the chipped cement drive of 'La Vista': a red brick building with little finesse or decoration. A white arrow points to the reception room, serviced by a shrivelled man with greasy hair combed over the top of his skull and a toothpick hanging from his bottom lip. Charli feigns interest in a pile of brochures while Tobi pays for two nights and leaves the desk, brandishing a swipe card.
Room forty-four is toward the end of the row of peeling brown doors. The room is dank and non-descript, reeking of mildew and neglect, but it is cooler than the smouldering day outside and a good deal safer than anywhere else she can think of. The flick of a switch lights a single fluorescent globe, showing dull brown tiles, twin single beds with heavy tan and gold bedspreads, a small table with a lamp between the beds, and a flat-screen television mounted on the wall. A door leads to the bathroom. A tiny fridge is to its right. Inside the bathroom, there's a shower mounted over a porcelain tub behind a polka dot shower curtain, a toilet, and a sink with a mirrored cabinet.
'Home, sweet home,' Tobi says, bouncing on the bed nearest the television with the remote for the air conditioner in one hand and the television remote in the other.
She drops her backpack and sinks into the second bed, her weary body grateful for the soft pillow and firm mattress. Her mind travels over the day, trying to comprehend how long it's been since the accident. Two days feels like years to her. She thinks of Zoe and Ella, aching for her best friends and wishing they were here now. But Zoe's in New Zealand, and Ella's in London and would have boarded her plane at the same time Charli was trying to save her family. Do they even know what's happened? Are they on their way home again? What will they be thinking when I don't answer their calls and texts?
Tobi tosses her the newspaper from his bed.
'Lifted this in the office,' he says.
Charli grabs the paper, sitting cross-legged on the bed; she is eager to read the latest news. She flips the pages, stopping at page three; it has a story about her family. ‘Teen disappears after tragedy. Father pleads for her return.’ There's a recent school photo of Charli with her dark hair shining and her eyes bright; she is smiling at the camera.
She remembers the day. The photographer was a misery, so Ella made faces behind his back to make her laugh. He'd caught Charli in a beautiful smile, and it was a good photo, one she actually liked. The corners of her mouth tug up at the memory. Ella always made her laugh; she was always acting out and making everything fun. And Zoe was always in the background doing something dumb to get her attention. She misses having them around to talk to. They know her better than anyone else. They'd been friends forever, had grown up together, and knew each other's deepest secrets.
Her finger traces a small photo of her dad outside Parliament House. He had his public mask on, and his lips were curled into a perfunctory smile. How are you coping with all this, Dad? Do you miss them as much as I do?
The story goes through the events of Sunday morning and ends with a plea for her to come forward, offering a reward for her safe return. An invisible blade of pain slices through her, and she continues to touch his cheek with her finger. Unbidden memories flood her mind, reminding her of the days before politics when he had time to play with her and take her to the park and spin her around until she wanted to throw up. There were picnics, melting ice cream cones, trips to the beach, lazy days at home, and the warmth of his body and steady thrum of his heart as she laid her head on his chest, feeling safe and happy. Guilt culminates in a sudden fear.
'Do you think the man at the desk recognised me?'
The weight of it brings her legs over the side of the bed.
'Nah, he wasn't looking. Only had eyes for the money I gave him.'
'But there's a reward for bringing me in,' she says.
'You look nothing like that photo there,' he reassures her. 'No offense or nothing.'
She nods. Maybe she should change the way she looks like they do in the movies. She'd cut her hair and dye it blonde. Will that be enough to disguise me? The thought of prison makes her sick. She's got to find out what really happened before they find her.
The next paragraph is about the funeral, a single service for two of the most important people in her life. A single tear escapes. She thinks of them descending into the ground. No! I can't let that happen. I have to save them. Her heart speeds when she thinks that she might fail. This could be my last chance to say good-bye. I have to go.
She glances up at Tobi and back to the page, staring at the photo of her dad. He needs me there. How do I pull this off without getting caught? She looks back at Tobi, watching as he lies on his back. His whole face is captivated by the cartoon on the screen before him. She wonders how much she can rely on him to help her. Folding the paper, she tosses it on the floor and reaches for her backpack. She heads to the bathroom, showers, cleans her teeth, and changes into her first clean clothes for two days. When she returns, Tobi is still engrossed in the television, chewing on a metre-long strip of liquorice.
'Night,' she says as she passes his bed.
'Yeah, later.'
His eyes remain glued as she hefts back the covers and crawls in, curling into the tightest ball she can muster. Her tears soak the cotton pillowcase as she drifts off, desperate for a slice of unconscious bliss and an escape from the cruel reality that is her life.
Cha
pter Eleven
Sam pushes back from the desk, sending her chair into a pile of paper behind her. The stack totters but stays intact. She knows her filing system needs work and can feel Mal's disapproval in the dip of his brows and the shake of his head every time his eyes drift to her side of the office that they share. Mal often says that one's physical environment reflects one's capacity for problem-solving. Sam's space didn't live up to his expectations. Her desk is in the corner and faces out, giving her ample room to stack piles of notes and documents against the wall behind her chair. At first, the piles were almost invisible, but as they grew, so did Mal's impatience with her filing system.
'Official documents need to be archived,' he says. 'What if somebody wants to follow up on something? How're they supposed to make head or tails of that?' She defends herself by reassuring him that she knows the contents and details of every pile, but he shakes his head and mutters, 'What if you were hit by a bus? Someone else would have to deal with it.'
She knows he's right and keeps promising to sort it, but it's low on her list of priorities right now. In contrast, Mal's side is neater than a pin; his shelves are filled with identical files lined up like grey soldiers, and his desk is clear at the end of each day. His wife, Marge, and their two daughters stare at her from within their silver frame, and she feels their disapproval from across the room.
Sam eyes her desk, a flash of guilt zipping through her. She needs to file a 'missing person' alert on her in-tray that is buried beneath an avalanche of paper that never subsides. Pens, scissors, stapler, hole punch, and glue all poke their heads from beneath books and folders across the desk in any available space—there is no system there. A Post-It note caterpillar crawls the side of her computer, stretching across the desk and disappearing underneath some newspaper clippings. Her eyes widen. Now she's taking notice of it, she's mortified and resolves to clean it up by the end of the day, starting by tossing all the takeaway coffee cups, a few balled up scraps of paper, and some of the Post-It notes into the overflowing bin. She gathers the bin liner and ties a knot in the top. She drops it into the industrial bin by the back door before squinting into the afternoon sun.
