Katie's Rescue

by Michael Graeme

  Katie's Rescue

  Michael Graeme

  Published: 2009

  Tag(s): "paranormal romance" "short story" "time slip" romance romantic speculative

  Katie's Rescue

  a short story

  by

  Michael Graeme

  Katie's Rescue

  It felt odd, driving into Raworth, because where I come from Raworth does not exist. I know that stretch of road, you see? It dips down to the river Warfe, crosses over by the old bridge, then rises up the dale on the other side. Ordinarily there's just a steep wooded ravine and a picturesque waterfall on the river but, like I said, on this occasion, there was also Raworth.

  It was a pretty little Dales village with an old fashioned garage, a tearoom, and a scattering of lovely stone-built houses. Then there was the Parish Church, a Post Office, and the Dun Bull - a white rendered, black beamed coaching inn. The first time round, I knew something was wrong but I drove on, hoping it would all fix itself if I just ignored it. I crossed over the bridge and picked up the road on the other side, but ten minutes later I was driving down into Raworth again, having mysteriously looped back on myself. So, rather doggedly now, I drove through again, only to find myself once more looping back into Raworth.

  It's not the first time this sort of thing has happened to me. It's hard to explain, but now and then I'll sense a shift in my frame of reference, and before I know it I've blundered into a place that seems perfectly plausible, but it's clearly somewhere I don't belong. It sort of sucks me in and holds me there for a while. Anyway, this time around I did the sensible thing, and pulled over onto the Dun Bull car park in order to wait it out.

  It's best not to panic in situations like this because when realities get muddled up they usually have a way of settling back on their own if you let them. This means keeping calm, because the fewer waves you make with your emotions, the quicker you'll get back to normal and be on your way again.

  I don't mean to sound like an expert here because I'm not. In fact I'm not sure how it works at all - if it's just that we're only equipped to deal with a certain degree of otherness, or if it's the experience of our own reality that actually dictates the kinds of places we're susceptible to falling into. Either way, there are only ever minor differences between one and the next, so you'll always find you can function quite well, if you remember to keep your head. The cars on the car park looked regular enough - a few makes I wasn't familiar with, and the registration plates were coded differently, of course, but it all seemed contemporary, and quite acceptable to my senses - no bug eyed monsters or flying elephants, or other nonsense like that.

  I stepped out of the car and stretched my back. The atmosphere was calming and pleasantly warm - a lovely summers' afternoon in a Dales village, down by the Warfe. What could be finer? It was seductive, and I found myself reluctant to let it go. I fancied I could see ripples in the fabric of things, a bit like the ripples on the Warfe - all sun spangled and pretty. I breathed out slowly, felt the ripples spreading, the lovely vision fading. Any second now it would be gone. It was a pity, and I wanted to hang onto it for a while longer, but like I said, I didn't belong here so the best thing was to let it go.

  "Gimme your keys!"

  "What?"

  Suddenly it all snapped into focus and I spun round to find a guy threatening me with a tyre iron. Could this really be happening? He was wearing a business suit and a tie, so he was not exactly your average mugger, but he was excited - the tie at half mast, his shirt laps dangling, and he was flushed and sweating.

  Behind him was a young woman - also smart in a dark fitted suit. She had short auburn hair and bookish spectacles. She seemed to be trying to restrain him, though without going so far as to actually touch him, as if he were somehow unclean. In such a quiet place as Raworth, all of this seemed more than a little surreal.

  "No, Mr Parker,… ” she was saying. "This is not the way!"

  "Be quiet, you silly cow!" then to me, again, louder: "KEYS!"

  Before I could think about it, he was coming at me. My keys were in my hand. He made a grab for them, snatched them, gashed my fingers in the process, which had me backing away in pained surprise and before I could recover, he'd jumped into my car and was driving off in a cloud of dust. The woman trotted after him as best she could in her tight skirt and heels, then stood with a look of disbelief as he raced away over the bridge and up the hill on the other side of the river. He'd apparently abandoned her.

  She walked back to me, embarrassed, and unable to quite meet my gaze. It wasn't her fault – she'd tried to stop him, but clearly she felt awkward now, like an accomplice. Then I realised: they didn't belong here either! They'd been trying to break out of the same loop! I gazed at her in amazement, relieved it happened to others as well; it made me feel less strange of a sudden.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "He's completely lost it. If it's any comfort his car's over there." She nodded to a big black Mercedes. "The keys are in it. I suppose we could just help ourselves?"

  "Well, it's tempting, but I don't think it'll do us any good, do you?"

  She sighed."I suppose not."

  "How did you know I wasn't from,… well,… around here?"

  "We sort of guessed by your registration plate."

  "Ah, of course. And you thought, what, exactly?”

  "Well, Parker thought your car might be different, somehow - not,… well,… cursed or anything."

  "Okay. I think I can see a weird sort of logic in that. But you should try to think of this as less the result of a curse, and more of an entanglement. I take it it's your first time?"

  "Yes. We've been here since yesterday afternoon."

  "That long?"

  This was interesting! The most I'd ever managed in a place like this was a couple of hours. It was possible to draw things out for days then, and all a question of what? Focus? Might it be worth trying? This wasn't of any interest to her though; she just wanted to get out of here.

  "Where did you sleep?"

  "I didn't," she replied. "I sat up in the car all night - at least the part of it he wasn't driving us around the same bit of the Dales, searching for a way out." She gave me an anxious look, wondering perhaps if I was to be trusted. "Are you saying this has happened to you before?"

  "It's becoming a bit of a habit for me, yes."

  She closed her eyes and put her hands up to her cheeks, then shook her head in weary bewilderment. "I was hoping I was losing my mind," she said. "That would have been easier to explain,… or that I was somehow dreaming it,… I mean you hear of lucid dreams don't you?"

  Faces were appearing at the window of the inn. We were creating a scene, and I suspected that once the locals started latching onto us with their curiosity, it might delay our exit even more as we became ever more entangled in their reality. For myself I was in no particular hurry, and would gladly have traded places with her for a while, but she clearly felt she'd been here long enough, so I felt obliged to help her if I could

  "It's not a dream," I told her. "And you're not losing your mind. This is something altogether more remarkable. It's distressing, I know, but things have a way of righting themselves, so you mustn't worry. What's your name?"

  "Katie."

  "All right, Katie: For the benefit of our audience, very casually, smile like you know me,… that's good. Now walk with me."

  I never thought to tell her my own name. It didn't seem worth it. We'd most likely be out of there in no time, I thought, and never meet again. I should have told her, though, but as we moved off, the moment seemed to pass and I just let it go.

  Parker had a real problem! His inflated ego was holding him captive, and he really needed to calm down otherwise he'd never escape, but he'd stolen my car and I w
asn't much concerned with his welfare now. Katie was different though. She was a gentle soul and I was sure she just needed to be quiet for a while. By the time I sat her down in the tea shop, she was already starting to relax and open up a little, and I was sure she'd be on her way soon enough.

  "We were travelling back from a conference in Scarborough," she explained.

  "Scarborough? You were coming home by the scenic route then. This is miles out of your way."

  She gave a wry smile. "If you knew Parker, you'd understand. Anyway, once we came to Raworth, I had a feeling things weren't right."

  "I know – me too. How many times did you drive through?"

  "I lost count," she said. "Look, this is just a crazy idea and don't take me seriously or anything but what if we stole another car,… a local one."

  "Wouldn't work," I assured her.

  "You've tried it?"

  "Heavens, no. I borrowed a bicycle once, that's all. A local conveyance will get you out of the village, I think – it'll stop this looping back all the time – the same if you just walk, but that's not what we want is it?"

  "So, what do we do then?"

  "Like I said, it'll happen on its own. It's just a question of relaxing into it. As a last resort there are,… well,… techniques."

  "Techniques?"

  "Relaxation methods, maybe even a bit of hypnotic suggestion as a last resort, but I'm sure it won't come to that."

  I ordered tea and scones from the waitress. She had a friendly face and an engaging smile, but this same friendliness just made things appear all the more sinister to Katie who merely eyed the girl suspiciously.

  "There's something else you should know,” I said. “Where we come from, it's still the same time as when you left. And the time doesn't move, until you go back. It's like you've hit the pause button. Okay? So, no one will be worrying about you back home - if that's what's upsetting you."

  This seemed to comfort her a little. "It doesn't explain how I got here though."

  "My guess is there are slightly different versions of the same reality. Normally they're all separate of course, but now and then they seem to intersect. I don't know what keeps us fixed in one place as opposed getting swept across into another, but I suspect some of us are just less well screwed down, that's all."

  "And that's supposed to cheer me up?"

  I was only confusing her now – better change the subject, then: "Here: have some scones."

  "I'll be sick. How can you eat?"

  "It's best to just go along with things for now. And drink. You're dehydrated. You look terrible."

  "Oh? Well, thanks very much!"

  After a while there came the sound of my car being driven hard. It flashed past the window and vanished in the direction of the Dun Bull. Moments later, I saw it climbing up out of the village; it looked like he was going round again.

  Katie took a deep breath, cradled her hands around the teacup, then took a long pull at the tea.

  "Better?"

  She drained the cup, nodded, and I poured her another.

  "I'm assuming Parker's a colleague?"

  "Boss, actually."

  "Really? What's he like to work for?"

  She wrinkled her nose. "He's a bully and a lecherous sleaze."

  "Ah." I had an uncomfortable thought. "Does that explain the quiet country lanes?"

  "I'm afraid so. He's been trying it on all week. The roads are so lonely around here – I was glad to see Raworth,… I mean at first."

  "And is he always so,… assertive?"

  "Well, I've never seen him hijack someone's car before, but,… well, let's just say I'm not surprised. When normality breaks down people can revert to savagery very quickly."

  "Not all, surely! I mean, look at us. This is very civilised, don't you think?"

  She managed a smile, which I found encouraging. A sense of humour is a valuable asset under any circumstances. "It's odd though," I went on. "I wouldn't have thought people like Parker were susceptible to falling through. They aren't prone to moments of detachment, you see? Me? I drift off all the time. It's no wonder I keep finding myself in places like this."

  It could have been her of course; she could have been prone to it, like me, and anything she was touching or anyone she was with at the time simply came tumbling through with her. And now? Well, perhaps Parker's ego wasn't just preventing his own escape - it was preventing Katie's too: I remembered the way everything had snapped into focus as soon as he'd demanded my keys. Emotion, pain, anxiety: it locked you in all the more.

  My finger was still bleeding a little and I was holding a napkin over the cut. Katie seemed only just to have noticed this. "I'm sorry" she said. "You're hurt. Let me see?"

  She rummaged in her bag for some sticking plasters and began to apply them. She explained that she was the first-aider in her office, and assured me my wound wasn't serious. She had lovely fingers, long and slender with pretty little pointed nails, and a delicate manner that I found most endearing, but she was also wearing a wedding, engagement and an eternity ring, which triple underlined her unavailability. This had obviously not troubled the randy Parker but I was relieved by it because she was an attractive young lady, and though I had not dared to trouble myself with the fairer sex for a while now, I remained as susceptible as ever.

  "Have you any children, Katie?"

  She nodded. "A little boy." Then her face cracked and the tears began. It was the hardest thing of all: a mother separated from her child. I tried to console her. "You'll see him again. I promise! Have you a picture?"

  She produced a wallet with his photograph. He was a charming little chap, perhaps two years old, a bright smile and shining eyes. This was also bad. You needed to remain detached you see? You had to fool yourself into thinking you didn't care one way or the other if you went back, or remained – desiring anything at all, anything, disturbed the emotions and delayed your escape.

  Detachment is easy enough for a footloose and curmudgeonly misanthrope like me, but a young mother like Katie? How did such people ever escape these places? Or did they find themselves trapped for ever, somehow learning to adapt and survive, yet for ever feeling themselves to be alien, and grieving for the loss of the life they used to know? I felt a shiver. It was a horrible thought.

  My car came around for yet another circuit. How stubborn he was! He'd already spent half the night searching for a way out that he was never going to find, and now he looked set to do it all again.

  "I think we're going to have to get away from here," I told her.

  "Well, obviously," she said. "But how?"

  "No, I mean Parker's attitude is preventing you from escaping. His panicking ego is sending out waves, muddying the water for you - do you understand?"

  "I think so."

  "I'm wondering, if we can make our way along to the next village, you'll no longer be disturbed by his influence, and you can make your exit from there."

  She thought about this for a moment, then shook her head. "I can't go back without him."

  "You may have to."

  "But how would I explain it? We were seen leaving a conference together. Then I turn up on my own with no sign of him anywhere, and with no explanation that anyone in their right mind would ever believe?"

  She was right: that would be no good at all! I gave her a smile - no sense in upsetting her even more by telling her I was running out of ideas now. I couldn't leave her trapped here, but getting him out as well seemed, frankly, impossible.

  "We may have to settle in for a while, then," I said.

  "What? But for how long?"

  "I'm not sure. Until things calm down by themselves, I suppose."

  "You seem so calm already – you won't,… go back without me, will you?"

  "The emotional ripples coming off you are probably preventing that."

  "Oh,.. I hadn't thought. I'm sorry."

  "Don't worry. I'm in no hurry. I'll see you back safely, then make my way home in my own time."

&
nbsp; I sought out the waitress, by the counter, in order to settle up. I'd none of the local currency, but I knew from previous experience card payments were okay and came without the inconvenience of a bill showing up on the other side. Anyway, I figured I might need some currency eventually, and asked if there was a cash-point in the village - oh, and an hotel. The cash point was by the post office, she told me. There was no hotel as such, but she said her father had some rooms for rent next door, and there was the Dun Bull of course.

  I took the liberty of securing the rooms. It was a holiday let and I took out a week's lease, with the option of a further week if I needed it - I wasn't feeling terribly confident at this point, you see? Then I had the task of breaking all of this to Katie. Her reaction was understandably dubious:

  "I'm not sharing a room with you!"

  "It's not a room. It's a holiday apartment - more than one room, you see? Look, I know you're a married woman with a husband and a lovely little boy waiting for you, so you needn't worry, truly,… it's just somewhere we can hang out for a while, in comfort, or would you prefer to spend another night sitting in the car? "

  This seemed to persuade her. "Well, if it's only for a little while,… "

  "Good. Now, have you a suitcase in the car?… Then can I suggest you go and fetch it? Meanwhile, I'll see what cash I can draw from the machine."

  I found the cash-point and drew out my limit. The notes were similar to the ones I knew - the same Queen's head, but the colours were different, and I was intrigued by the twenty-five pound denominations. Inside the post office I was able to purchase a map of the area, at least this version of it - just to get my bearings - and I was careful to hide this in my pocket, in case Katie should think I was still mulling over the idea of persuading her to leave Raworth for somewhere quieter. Well, all right, that's exactly what I was thinking. It was possible, you see, that if she escaped the tsunami of Parker's egotism, and I managed to get her back on the right side of reality again, everything she'd brought with her, including Parker, would simply follow her across in the same way it had followed her here. It was risky though - it might be different with people, and Parker's block-headedness would hold him prisoner, leaving her in the lurch on the other side – just as she had feared.