by F. M. Isaacs
But Bella and Hannah...I'd ask my parents about them now and see if they had any “new” information to share.
Leah (Lisette) 1761-2013.
My eyes rested on those words and dates. It was mind-boggling. This woman had really lived for two hundred and fifty-two years? No wonder they had named me after her! How had she died?
“Uncle Jonas made that by time traveling.”
Mom stood in the doorway. I wasn't sure how long she had been there as I'd been so engrossed in the contents of the tree.
“So why didn't he go further back and do more?”
“Well, he was working on learning the languages.” She sat down next to me on the loveseat. “When you travel, you hit language barriers, cultural barriers... It's not all fun and games, like your dad told me when I started out. We're dealing with people's lives. You'll see wonderful things and horrible tragedies. You're opening a window onto other people's existences. Don't interfere with them. Your father and I learned that the hard way. Well, he did especially.”
“Dad messed with people's lives?”
“In a sense. He was trying to help people and make the world better in the process. See, your father rescued people.”
“Rescued?”
“He saved talented people who had died young. He'd rescue them right before they died, and he'd bring them to the present.”
Dad's dream-words came back to me, “People I saved, people I lost, people who hurt us...” My father, saving people's lives. The enormity of Mom's words struck me, and I listened with rapt attention as she went on.
“But his actions created a lot of negative repercussions, so he mostly stopped doing it.”
So, probably under my very nose, my family had been quietly fixing the world. “Did you help him?”
“I did a few with him. The artist Scott Manton, Mozart...” She raised her eyebrows.
I nearly choked. “Mozart? Come on, Mom!”
“The composer commissioned to write the new Olympics theme, you know, Jim Smith?”
“How could I not know who Jim Smith is, Mom? I mean, he's got to be one of the greatest movie score composers around! We play his music practically every year in band!”
“He's really Mozart.”
I think I stopped breathing for a moment. “You have got to be kidding me. That’s...” I had to pause. Mozart was living and breathing under the very same sky that I was? “Can I meet him?” I piped up.
“Sure! He loves to see us!”
Well, why wouldn’t he? We have friends and relatives visit all the time. Why not a legendary, long-presumed-dead composer?
More silence. Then another realization. “Bella is...”
“A rescue. Her father, Wilhelm Gruber, was a brilliant scientist who was originally murdered by the Nazis. Julian saved him, his wife Anna, and their baby daughter, Bella.”
Dad's concentration camp memories flooded my head. Graphic images of Nazis slaughtering children threatened to swallow my very soul...
I held back a wail. I'm not sure how Mom took that reaction, but she continued on while I forced myself to calm down.
“Yes, Bella was rescued as a baby from Nazi Germany. Jade, Hannah and Andrew...they're all rescues too.”
And I'd thought they were patients. “What about Rollo, the English guy?”
She laughed. “Rollo went the other way. He met a girl in 1854 when we brought him back in time, and he married her and stayed there. So Rollo's dead.” She didn't seem too overwrought about this statement.
“But I just saw him. If he died in the past, then...”
“That's because Julian brings him forward from time to time to visit. Or we go to see him. We can visit him whenever we want!”
Okay. My brain was officially fried...
AT DINNER, I TOLD MY parents about what had happened in the school bathroom. Dad got really angry. He stood up from the table, grabbing it tightly. “Corinne! I told you to wait to do any more traveling until you talked to us about it first!”
“I know, but I figured a few minutes wouldn't hurt.”
“But it did! Two girls know something is up, and the one that you appeared in front of in the stall, well, that was probably pretty dam-aging!”
“Well, how was I supposed to know someone was there?” I cried.
“If you had just... Oh, damn it, Corinne!”
My mother moved over to me. “You'll get a feel for it. We can sense if people or objects are where we're aiming to go. Until you develop that, make sure the place you're going is safe and empty first.”
“Right. Right. Maybe I'll just never travel!” I yelled and stalked off. Now I was grateful that I hadn't told them about Allen yet. They'd be far angrier than they were now.
“Corinne, who was the girl in the bathroom stall?”
“One of your patients' daughters – Stephanie Burr,” I called back.
“Oh, Clarice Burr’s daughter? Great,” Mom exclaimed.
“Go to her,” Dad replied.
“I will,” was the quiet response.
Only my dad came upstairs after me.
“I WENT BACK TO CENTRAL City,” Dad said, hovering over my bedside. Well, he wasn't actually floating, but he could have been had he wanted to.
I turned away. “What's Mom doing to Stephanie?”
“She's making her forget. Like my father does, only she can completely erase thoughts. Grandpa Ron usually can only blur them up.”
I snorted. “Is there anything Mom can't do?”
“Corinne,” Dad sat down beside me, ignoring my question, “they said Doc Vervain tried to help me out.”
“Yes! He tried to bleed you, Dad! It's a wonder you didn't get gangrene or something when he plunged that unsterilized blade into you with his dirty hands!”
“How'd you stop him from doing the bloodletting? Did you say anything you shouldn't have?”
Shouldn't have? What was that supposed to mean? “Like that I was from the future? No. I just said I didn't want him to kill you. Now why did you go back? To revisit the scene of the crime?” I asked bitterly.
“No,” he snapped. “I paid the poor man for his services. He's a good man. He's one of the people who taught my friend Rollo how to be a doctor.”
“Then Rollo's probably pretty bad at it.”
“No, other than the bloodletting part, Doc Vervain was an excellent doctor, and he taught at Rollo’s medical school. Rollo learned a lot from him. He wasn't successful in changing Doc's mind on the bloodletting issue, though.”
“A person from now went to medical school in the 1860s? That’s weird.”
“1850s, and yes, it was weird for him. I sat in on some of his classes. Pre-Civil War medicine in some cases is little more than faith healing.”
I closed my eyes, picturing my father lying helpless before Doc Vervain. “Dad?”
“What?”
“I'm glad he didn't kill you.”
“Me too. Dying once already was enough for me.”
DAD'S MEMORIES BOMBARDED my sleeping brain, playing over and over again. I couldn't pull myself from witnessing Nazi barbarities, but I was helpless to do anything...
“Mom! Dad!” I shrieked, not sure if I was even awake or not.
They were beside me despite the fact that the door of my bedroom had never opened. Mom merely had to look at me to know what was wrong. “What you saw. You can't get it out of your head.” She sat down on the bed beside me and wiped at my tears with the sleeve of her nightgown.
“I need Grandpa Ron,” I cried, clasping at her tightly. “I...can't handle it... I really can't...”
Dad glanced at the clock. “It's after twelve,” he stated. “Should I get him?”
Mom placed her hand on my forehead. “I can do it too if you'd like, Corinne.”
With the frilly pink nightgown and disheveled hair, Mom seemed like a fairy godmother to me right now. “Can you erase it all?” I asked her.
“Yes, but I don't think that's a good idea. Know what's out
there. Keep it from happening again.”
“Whatever,” I whispered. “Just please, please help me, Mom.”
“Shh. I'll lessen it for you. Lie down.”
I lay back. Mom leaned over more, her palm warm against my skin. Her touch introduced a calm all through me, and my whole body relaxed. As Dad looked on, Mom shut her eyes and did whatever it was that she needed to do.
And I dreamed of flying.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The three of us sat at breakfast, Mom looking relatively happy, Dad appearing worried. Usually it was the other way around.
“How do you feel, Corinne?” Mom inquired. “Okay now?”
“Mom, I don't know what you did or how you do it, but I'm much better. I mean, the pictures aren't gone, but they don't hurt now.”
“Good. Good.” She smiled.
And indeed, when I searched my mind for Dad's memories, they were still there, but they were fuzzy and painless, like half-remembered childhood nightmares. I was so grateful to my mother, I wasn't even sure how to express it.
“Thank you so much, Mom. Everything's...tucked away.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied. “That’s what we’re here for,” she added, prodding my father.
Dad remained quiet.
“What's wrong, Dad?” I prompted him.
He was looking into his tea cup, and he barely lifted his head. “Like I said, traveling's a big responsibility, Corinne.”
“After what we just went through, I know.”
Dad went on. “When I found out I could travel, I thought I was the most fantastic person in the world, and I went all over time, recklessly.”
“How recklessly?”
“I didn't go completely crazy, but you have to be careful. You saw already what nearly happened to us both. I mean, something happens to you, you die in, say 1414, you're dead. We'd have to try to find where and when you are, but you can't count on that.”
“And you know not to tell anyone about any of this. No matter how tempting,” Mom inserted.
I thought of Allen, and how he knew everything about me. Perhaps it was time to tell them about him.
Somehow, timed perfectly, Mom came out with, “That guy you mentioned – are you still seeing him?”
A bit annoyed at her question, I decided not to reveal everything to her quite yet. “Well, he's not like my boyfriend, Mom,” I said offhandedly. But I knew she could see through anything. Maybe that was some special power too.
“Was he at your party?” she inquired abruptly.
“He couldn't make it,” I grumbled, then mulled over the wisdom of keeping silent. Perhaps Daniel or Matthew had mentioned to them that I knew Allen? Then again, he hadn’t attended the party. He had mostly been loafing around in the woods.
“Be careful,” Dad muttered, and set back to his tea.
“So, is it okay if I travel now?”
My parents glanced at each other. “Look, we can't tell you not to. You're not a child anymore. But please watch yourself. Also, make sure you dress the part. We have clothes in the attic,” said my mother.
“She knows, Patricia. We used one of your dresses in our little trip to Central City.”
“Yes, the blue one that was caked with mud and stuffed in the bottom of the laundry basket. You could have just asked me to wash it – or even washed it yourself. You'll be doing that soon in college, you know.”
I squirmed in response.
Mom continued, “If you have any questions about anything, ask us, Corinne. Really, I'd prefer you travel with one of us – at least in the beginning. It would make me much more comfortable.”
I sighed, but I agreed with her. Walking around a new time all alone, especially one I knew nothing about, sounded daunting after Central City. I'd travel with other people when I could.
“Have you heard from Daniel lately, Corinne?” Mom asked as I got up from the chair and inched out of the kitchen. I turned toward her, but before I could answer, she raised her eyebrows. “Where are you going?”
“I'm going to the school to help clean the courtyard and feed the animals.” Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. I was going to the school courtyard, at least.
“Since when do you do that?”
“I volunteered.”
My mother was quiet. I usually didn't volunteer to do anything. I didn't have time to do much with all the extracurricular activities I was already involved in.
“You didn't say, Corinne. Have you heard from Daniel?” Dad chimed in.
“No, but he's probably still mad at you guys from you yelling at him the other night,” I replied, pulling open the door. “See you later.”
AS I WALKED DOWN THE front path, I pictured Daniel appearing in front of me. He’d mentioned that he could teleport by traveling through the present. Could I do the same? It was worth a try, and it would definitely save me a walk.
Going behind a tree to keep any nosy neighbors from seeing me, I concentrated on the woods near my school. “Go to the school... Be by the trees...” I had to “put” myself there, this very moment.
The lurch I experienced was much milder than when I had traveled in time. I now stood on a crisp carpet of dead leaves, my feet sinking into the ground as I steadied myself. Feeling slightly lightheaded, I emerged from the woods, proud and beaming. I'd just teleported! I saved time and energy. Well, maybe not energy – I actually was kind of knocked out from my newest feat.
“I'm so awesome,” I sang out joyfully, making a silly half-hop. “So. Amazingly. Awesome!”
“Yes you are,” I heard behind me.
Mortified, I covered my mouth. I flipped around to see Allen several feet away, grinning.
“Okay, where'd you come from? I didn't see you!”
“I was climbing this tree.”
I followed his gaze, stymied. There was an oak tree before us, but there was nothing particularly special about it. Why was a grown man scaling trees?
“While I waited for you, I was enjoying being a vine for a while.”
Well, there it was. He wasn't a grown man at the time. He was just...growing. “A vine? Really?”
“Yes. Being a plant relaxes me. You can try it too when you're ready. But I have other plans for today.”
My successes were welling up within me, and I needed to share them with someone first. Allen already knew I could time travel, so what harm could it do to tell him? “I teleported here!” I burst out with pride.
“Teleportation! Like going from one place to the next in an instant?”
“Yup!”
“Great! Then maybe you teleport us into the courtyard. The door there is shut, and when I started roaming around to get to the back door, a crazy janitor started yelling at me. That’s when I came and waited for you on this nice tree.” He tapped the oak. “I figured you’d come through this area. You know, I have to tell you, that janitor was a real nasty guy.”
“That's Sal. He's a jerk. Can you turn him into a garbage can?”
He chuckled. “Well, I'd like to, but who'd clean the school then?”
I laughed and took hold of him. “Hang on tight. I hope I can do this without killing us.”
With a bit of a crash, we ended up right where I had aimed – the little outdoor courtyard nestled in the center of the school. The area had two entrances: one door in the front and one in the back, both of which were locked. In the middle sat three benches with flowers twining through them. Several tame rabbits lived here, as did two mallards, who had been lured in by the small pond at the back.
We settled into one of the seats. “What made you decide to bring me here?” Allen asked, pushing part of a branch away from his face.
“I love this place. It's so pretty, and the rabbits are so adorable.” I petted one that had perched next to my foot.
“What would you like to do?”
“I don't know. Maybe we can talk?”
“Just talk? You don't want to change?” he exclaimed, confounded.
&n
bsp; “Oh, we'll get to that. Let's just take a few minutes to ourselves.”
He shrugged. “Okay. What do you want to talk about? It's funny, where I come from, none of this would be tolerated. Meeting you in the woods, being alone with a woman who's not your wife?”
“You tried to bring me inside your house last time.”
“I wasn't thinking, honestly. A person can suffer from that problem in any time period.”
I still had a lot to learn about Allen; I never really bothered to ask him about his history. What did he do in his spare time? Who were his parents? Did he have siblings?
“What’s your last name and what college do you go to?” That seemed a good place to start.
He held his hands up, amused. “They call that the third degree here, I understand. Okay,” he pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Well, I attend classes at the local community college. As for a last name,” he scratched his head, “well, we didn’t really have them where I’m from.”
“So what are you called?” I asked, confused. Who didn’t have a last name?
“Well, I guess I’d be Allen, son of Samuel.”
That sounded like he’d walked straight out of the Bible, but I glossed over the comment. “Next question: how long have you been here?”
“Not long enough, I'd say.”
“But you know the language pretty well – you sound even better than when I first met you. You fit in, and you're going to be a principal? How did you manage that?”
“Okay,” he cracked his knuckles. “The last part was tougher. Your parents know someone who forges documents. Daniel got me in touch with him, and he worked it out.”
I couldn't imagine my parents associating with anyone like that, but I figured that it was better not to go down that path. “Someone as powerful as you wants to be a boring school principal?” Somehow I couldn't fathom myself doing anything as banal as that anymore, given what I was capable of.
“I really do want to help kids and be part of their schooling! In my time, education was only for the very wealthy.”
“You should be a science teacher. You could be all the lab samples. They could even dissect you!” I tittered, thinking I was funny, but my attempt at humor went far over Allen's head. He stared at me vacantly before resuming his story.
