JACK KNIFED

by Christopher Greyson

  She gave him a grandmotherly smile. “Everything’s fine. She’s just not used to someone being so nice to her. She told me how you’ve taken her in and all that you’ve done for her already. I think it’s the kindest thing that you’re getting another apartment so she can have a room and a bed. And now you’ve done this. She’s very touched.”

  “She’s very touched all right, mentally,” Jack muttered as he looked around.

  Barbara frowned and lowered her gaze.

  “Sorry,” Jack apologized. He looked away and noticed a display of shoes. “Do you think she needs shoes to go with that dress?”

  The elderly woman’s eyes filled with tears, and she suddenly hugged Jack.

  “You’re the most thoughtful man.”

  They’re all crazy.

  Jack awkwardly kept his hand out as Barbara hugged him. She turned, grabbed two different pairs of tan shoes, and disappeared into the dressing room. He crept forward and tried to listen. After a few seconds, Replacement started to cry again, and Jack’s shoulders slumped.

  “Why is she so moody?”

  Jack turned to look at the old man who’d spoken.

  “What?” Jack asked.

  “Is she pregnant?” the old man continued.

  “Who?”

  “Your wife?”

  “No. She’s not my wife.” Jack shook his head.

  “Girlfriend?”

  “Yeah. No. She’s a girl…and my friend but…she’s not my girlfriend.”

  “That explains it.” The man nodded wisely, as if he had solved a great riddle, and just walked away.

  Jack rolled his eyes as he looked toward the exit and hoped this shopping trip would end soon.

  And women wonder why men don’t like shopping.

  Barbara came out and stood next to him. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat and the dressing room door opened. Jack’s jaw dropped. She was so beautiful it took his breath away. Replacement stood before him and just beamed. Her eyes were wet with tears, but the smile on her face was contagious. Jack knew he grinned like a moron, but he couldn’t stop himself. Barbara nudged him from behind. He stepped forward.

  “You look beautiful. Please, please don’t cry anymore.”

  “You like it? Are you sure?” She looked down at the dress.

  “Yeah…it looks great on you.”

  Barbara stepped over. “I’ll have them ring it all up in electronics so you can get right out.” She winked.

  “Thanks for your help.”

  She nodded.

  After they had checked out, he followed behind Replacement as she headed for the car. She varied between walking and skipping through the parking lot. She looked back at Jack and stopped. When he caught up to her, she gave him a quick hug and a gigantic grin.

  “Thank you.” Her voice cracked.

  “It’s nothing, kid.”

  “It is to me.”

  Hope Falls

  The Hope Falls Inn was a large, old estate home that had been converted into a bed and breakfast. The new paint and manicured lawn showed someone cared very much for it. Jack grabbed the duffle bag, and they started down the walkway.

  Three wide steps led up to a wooden front porch with a white swing suspended on an ivory chain. Jack walked through the door and watched as Replacement turned around and took everything in. It was as if they were back in the 1800s. Not as if he was in a museum where nothing could be touched; rather, Jack looked back at the door to make sure he hadn’t stumbled through some time portal.

  A middle-aged woman with her brown hair done up in a bun came to the front desk. Adorned in a period-style dress with a high collar, she glided behind the counter. Her eyes widened slightly when they shifted from Replacement to Jack, and he heard her inhale sharply. She only paused for a moment before she tilted her head and gave a slight curtsy.

  “Good evening.” Her voice was very polished and smooth. “I’m Ms. Foster, and I welcome you to the Hope Falls Inn.”

  Jack smiled. There was something about the way she looked at him that caused him to stand up a little straighter. “Hello. We have a reservation. Stratton.”

  Replacement clasped her hands together and rocked up on her toes. Her whole body seemed to vibrate as she grinned.

  “Of course, Mr. Stratton. Room 102. It’s at the top of the stairs and to the right.” She smiled and pointed up the stairs.

  She runs the place. This inn is hers. She’s the one who cares about the fresh paint and cut lawn.

  He noticed her eyes as they swept the room when she walked out of the doorway from behind the main counter. She was constantly checking to see that everything was in order, like an actress walking onto the stage. This stage was hers, and he was the audience.

  “The kitchen is closed, but if you’re hungry I can get you something.”

  “No, thank you.” He signed the necessary paperwork, but as he looked up at the woman, he noticed that her demeanor had shifted. Her smile now seemed slightly forced. Jack tossed the key to Replacement, and she dashed up the stairs.

  “Breakfast begins at seven.” Her eyes lifted slightly as she stared at Jack. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Stratton?”

  “No, thank you.” He grabbed the duffle bag and started to jog up the stairs after Replacement.

  Ms. Foster cleared her throat, and Jack stopped. He looked back, puzzled; she glared at his feet, and her lips pressed together.

  I’m walking too loud?

  “Sorry.” He smiled.

  Looks like it will be only one night here.

  He slowly walked up to the room and hurried in. It was a medium-sized room with all period furniture. The wallpaper was a bright white with an intricate pattern of green filigree. A large bed with a white comforter and pillows was the predominant feature. Dark ornamental bureaus stood along the wall, and a loveseat sat to the left of the door. He tossed the duffle bag down and then looked around for Replacement. She was gone.

  “Hey, kid?” he called out.

  She walked out of the bathroom. “You were right. They have toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo.”

  “They do that.” Jack tried to smile and not smirk.

  Replacement held up a bottle. “But it’s free. It says complimentary.”

  Jack was going to explain that it was included in the price of the room but he didn’t have the heart. He flopped down on the bed and groaned.

  It’s so soft. What’s this made of? This bed…

  He sat bolt upright and stood up.

  It’s a king.

  He spun around and looked at the enormous bed. “You got a king?” he asked Replacement.

  “What?” Replacement came back into the room, examining a wrapped bottle of conditioner.

  “You got one, king-sized bed?”

  “It’s huge.” She went over and fell down on it with her arms wide.

  “No. Nope. Hold on.” Jack turned and walked briskly to the front desk.

  Halfway down the stairs, the same woman who had greeted him earlier was giving him a stern look. He slowed down and all but tiptoed the rest of the way. She smiled approvingly.

  “Hi. I’m sorry, Ms. Foster, but there was a little mix-up with our room.”

  “How so?” Her smile vanished.

  “There’s only one bed.”

  “All of our rooms feature a full-size Victorian bed. That would be the most historically accurate in keeping with our theme.”

  “All of the rooms?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, did they have a spare bed or a cot back in time?”

  “I’m afraid not. There’s a sofa.”

  Jack tried to recall the room.

  Big canopy bed. Bathroom to the left. Old bureaus.

  “I can assure you that there’s a sofa.” She looked as though she was starting to get perturbed.

  “Lady, do you have another room?”

  “None of our rooms—”

  Jack waved his hands to cut her off. “A whole new room. I’ll
rent two.”

  Her eyebrow rose slightly, and her amber eyes narrowed. “We’re currently at full occupancy.”

  He put one hand on the counter and leaned in. “No offense, but is there another hotel in town?”

  She smiled pleasantly and shook her head. “The nearest is in Plimpton, and that’s a bit of a drive. I must mention that once you appear for your reservation, there are no refunds.” She pointed to a sign behind the counter written in an old English script: NO REFUNDS.

  “Is that historically accurate?” Jack leaned on the counter. “The Pilgrims didn’t give refunds?”

  Her jaw clenched slightly before she spoke. “The inn is designed to reflect the 1800s…”

  “It was just a joke. Lighten up.” Jack scowled, and so did the woman. He turned and started for the stairs. As he stepped loudly onto the first one, he said, “We’ll be checking out in the morning.”

  The woman’s eyes gleamed. “You reserved the room for a week.”

  Jack took two more steps upstairs and then rushed back down. “Wait a second, are you saying I have to pay for a week of time travel?”

  “There are no refunds once you—”

  “Seriously? She registered for a week? Now I have to stay here for a week?”

  The woman nodded.

  Jack held up his hands and walked backward. “Okay. Thanks. Thanks a lot.” He wanted to stomp up the stairs, but he didn’t.

  Sleeping on the sofa won’t kill me.

  Jack marched back into the room and second-guessed his earlier assessment. The “sofa” was an old loveseat that was four feet long. He sat down on it, and it moved under his weight. The white cushions were only about an inch thick. He rubbed them between his fingers, trying to figure out what they were stuffed with.

  Hay?

  Replacement stuck her head out of the bathroom and looked sheepishly at him.

  “What?” He tried not to sneer.

  “Can I take a bath? They have a giant tub. I could swim in it.”

  “Sure, kid. Knock yourself out.”

  She let out a little squeal and disappeared. After an hour, she came back out, purring like a kitten. He was glad that he’d gotten her a T-shirt and a pair of sweats, but even dressed like that…Jack swallowed hard and tried to keep his focus on her face.

  “Smell me! Smell me!” She ran over and thrust her hand under his nose.

  Jack was going to protest the odd request, but she smelled like lilies of the valley.

  Mrs. Lincoln.

  Jack had a teacher in elementary school who wore it. She’d been his first real crush, and even now he could picture the young woman standing before the class.

  “It’s nice.” He sighed as the image of his smiling teacher retreated from his mind.

  “Feel!” Before he could stop her, she grabbed him and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Her body was still warm from the bath, and his hand glided over her silky skin. She let go, and Jack caressed her arm with the back of his hand. On the upswing, his fingers paused at the large, open sleeve.

  He pulled his hand back. “Okay. Enough touching and smelling. You’re good with both. We better get to bed.”

  “I’m on the right.” She giggled, dashed over, and got under the covers. When her head appeared, she snuggled down into the comforter and peered out at Jack. “You’re not going to sleep on that?” She laughed as she noticed his blanket.

  Here I’m trying to be nice about her screw-up, and she laughs at me?

  “I know you didn’t know better, but you should have gotten two beds.” Jack plunked down on the sofa.

  “Why? This one is enormous. You’ll be all the way over there. Two beds wouldn’t even fit in this room.”

  “I’m fine. I slept on worse in the Army.”

  “But you don’t have to. I don’t mind. I’ve seen you naked.” She snickered.

  “We’re not sharing a bed. Go to sleep.”

  It was quiet for a couple of minutes and then she said, “Okey-dokey. If you need to, just climb in on the left. I’ll put pillows between us.”

  Jack smiled and lay back. He might as well have tried to sleep on a balance beam. The loveseat defeated him after an hour, but there was no way that he was going to get in the bed. He wrapped himself in the blanket and got down on the floor.

  Jack rolled over and, as he lay on his back, he could feel his hair billowing in a cold breeze. He couldn’t tell where the wind was coming from, but a draft blew air steadily across the floor. He curled up tighter in the blanket. As the hours ticked by, he realized it wasn’t the floor or the cold that kept him from sleep. He had dealt with far worse.

  Twenty years. He’d seen her face a thousand times in his sleep but, before today, it had been twenty years since he’d been in her presence. Was it only this morning that he saw her?

  Jack rolled over and kept his eyes open. The nightmares were bad enough before.

  What hell will I dream of tonight?

  Guard The Door, George

  Jack lay on his back on the floor and tried to let everything go. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. The rise and fall of his chest slowed as he imagined himself sinking into the floor. His muscles relaxed, and he finally drifted into sleep.

  When Jack opened his eyes and looked around the room, it was a motel room but not the inn. It was the kind of motel he and his mother “lived in” when he was little. He looked down at his hands, and when he saw the Curious George doll clutched in them, he knew he must be dreaming. He hadn’t seen that doll since he was five.

  Jack set the doll down on the stained couch next to the front door and stared at the dangling chain.

  I remember this. This room. This…

  Jack could feel his heartbeat speed up. His breath came in little panicked puffs and his throat hurt. Fear seized him, and the nightmare ripped him back to that place, that time, and those feelings.

  He began to shake.

  I can’t lock the door, or she’ll be mad.

  His grumbling stomach made him turn and run back to the bathroom. The hot water in the sink was running. He grabbed the empty motel ice bucket and poured the last of the pasta in. He carefully covered his meal with hot water and shut off the faucet.

  I have to let it get mushy.

  Jack carefully set down the bucket and watched it. It was the last of the food in the motel room and, even though he was starving, he was scared to eat it.

  What if she doesn’t come back? What if she left me like she said she should? What’ll I eat next? I can’t leave the room, and there’s nothing else to eat.

  He rubbed his fingers through his hair and fought back tears of frustration. He stood up and pressed his back into the wall. He was almost panting and, when he looked down at his stomach, it seemed to leap with each terrified gulp of air. He closed his eyes and pounded his own leg.

  Jack waited until the pasta was mushy and poured the water out. It was very chewy and bland, but he forced himself to eat all of it and drink lots of water when he did. As he finished another glass, he groaned.

  I have to make sure I go pee a lot before bed. She just gave me my blanket back after my last accident.

  When he finished, he darted out of the bathroom and stopped. The room got darker. He looked up and George was gone from watching the door. A little girl sat on the couch and stared at him. Somehow, he knew she was waiting for his answer, but he didn’t know the question. He didn’t know the girl, either. She was small and had big blue eyes. Her blond hair was very dirty, but she had a bright pink ribbon in it.

  “I’m five.” He held his hand out, but she didn’t smile.

  She just waited and stared at him.

  Jack closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he was back in the institution. It was the room where he’d met his mother. The little girl sat across the table and stared at him.

  “Are you looking?” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” She tilted her head an
d swung her legs.

  “Don’t get what?” Jack slammed his hand down on the table, and then stared at his own hand in shock. It had changed. He wasn’t five anymore, but grown.

  When he looked up, the little girl held her arms against her chest and her lip trembled.

  “Kid…don’t cry.”

  “I’m five.” She held up her hand.

  Jack smiled. “What’s your name?”

  “Patty.”

  Jack’s eyes flew open, and he rolled over on the floor and found himself staring at the ceiling. He rubbed his throat and gulped for air as he fought to get control of his breathing. He knew the end of his dream wasn’t real, but he remembered the pasta. His mother had been gone for six days, but when she came home, she acted as if she’d only gone out to the store.

  From the amount of light coming in the window, he hoped it was past seven. He closed his eyes and lay there, listening for Replacement. He thought she was awake but he hoped he might get some more sleep. He’d gotten an hour, tops. Replacement sprang out of bed and stepped on his stomach. When Jack groaned, she screamed and hopped back into bed.

  “Thanks,” he grumbled.

  Replacement stuck her head over the side of the bed. Her green eyes were wide, and she scrunched up her face. “Did you sleep on the floor?”

  “No.”

  She tilted her head to the other side. “You’re on the floor with blankets.”

  “I didn’t sleep.”

  “I did. This bed is super soft.” She disappeared from sight.

  Jack groaned and got up. “I already took a shower. Let’s go down to breakfast and then head to the library.”

  “You took a shower at night?” she asked.

  “I thought it would help me sleep.”

  “What’s at the library?”

  “It’s the place with books.” Jack smirked.

  “I know what a library is.” Replacement bounded out of the bed and raced to the closet. “I don’t know why you want to go there.” She yanked open the door, reached into the closet, and pulled out the brown dress with the white trim. “Can I wear this?” She clutched it to her body and twirled back and forth.