“What can ya’ do, Tabitha? Set down your life and your child and go racin’ after him? Ya’ can’t do this. I can’t. No. No idea. He has friends in the four corners. Everywhere he go, he makes a friend. They not the friends I would want. I’m just at a loss. I’m sorry. I know ya’ love him too. Don’ beat ya’ self up, girl. I just have ta believe he’ll be alright.”
“Well, I just thought I’d check. Are the two of you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Nah, sweetie. We’ve got food to eat. I’m gettin’ some trainin’ on computers a few mornin’s a week. Calais starts school in a year or so. I think she can get the free preschool. I’ll be able to work. We’re fine, Tabitha. Ya’ worry about ya’self, okay? Ya’ got that new baby and that husband ta tend to.”
Tabitha choked back a sob. It was all too much. She didn’t need this from Jared right now. “We’ll come see you, soon. Maybe for Calais’ birthday.” They had been there for her first two birthdays, so why should this be any different?
“That would be wonderful. Jus’ let me know ahead. We’ll be ready.”
“Okay, Louise. Take care.”
She hung up the phone and sobbed into her sleeves. No regard for me. No regard for his baby and the mother of his child, even. He is an uncle and a father, and he doesn’t care. After how much work Milt and I did to find his sorry butt. I can’t believe it. Well, he was a father and didn’t even care. Preferred wandering the streets like a stray dog.
He has a problem, she told herself. You have to remember. Just be glad he is alive.
If he is alive. It didn’t matter that she had seen the future, for what she had seen was all based on a life in which she and Milt had not made all of the decisions they had enacted in these last two years. She’d also thought their support with rehab would turn Jared’s world around. After all, they were changing the future, weren’t they? No, it seemed to just be a pit stop for him. From what she had read on addiction, it seemed that was the norm.
What an emotional day. She went and lay in bed, wanting to hide under the covers. She drifted in and out of sleep, every now and then hearing sounds of Peter rustling in his crib, expecting to hear his cries any moment. He’d likely have an empty stomach and a full diaper soon.
The inevitable sound came through the monitor. Her feet swung over the bed. Darkness had started falling. Where was Milt?
She went in and got the baby. He was sucking on his hand again. After settling into the rocking chair, she tried to feed him, but he was extremely fussy.
“Come on, Peter. Don’t tell me I can’t do even this right!” She shifted him onto her hip, then placed him in the crib where he was starting to cry again.
A quick dash to get her shoes, and she lifted Peter out of the crib again. He was cranky and kept crying. She got him into the car, buckled him in the car seat, key in the ignition. That was it; she was going to go buy formula. She figured she may have a clogged milk duct. It did feel a little different. As she was told, some people just had struggles with breastfeeding. Was she just going to stop, then? Perhaps binding was needed? She hoped she wasn’t headed for the dreaded mastitis. She decided to add cabbage to her purchase at the grocery store. According to their neighbor, Mrs. Snead, cabbage leaves could help with the pain and the mess of weaning oneself off of breastfeeding. Lining the bra with cabbage sounded ridiculous, but she’d try it if needed.
Wait! I have to open the garage door, she thought. Good Lord, I need to get with it. I could’ve hurt myself and the baby! She was sure it had happened to someone before. Sometimes I think I’m not cut out for this.
Briefly, it dawned on her: this is why some people did it. They left their baby on a doorstep, at a church, or at a kindly old couple’s house. They just couldn’t take it anymore. Her imagination was spinning in circles.
As the garage door lifted, she looked back at her infant son in the back seat, and for a moment, she realized she had so much to be thankful for. How he had grown in the last month! Time seemed to fly. Wanna speed into the future? Become a parent. She chuckled. It seemed so true. Okay, focus. I am operating a moving vehicle, and my child’s life is in my hands. Eyes on the road.
Later, she sat at the dining table. Milt was cooking dinner, and after only a few sips from the bottle, Peter had fallen asleep. She’d taken him to the crib to sleep.
“You should have called, Milt. I thought something might have happened to you.” She didn’t tell him about the squirrel she saw someone run over on the way to the store, how it felt like an omen. “I don’t need to be worrying about you, too!”
“I’m sorry. I had to meet with Jack.”
“Oh. Jack. Seriously, I really don’t want the details now. I tried to feed Peter today, and he just wouldn’t take to it. I had to go and get him some formula. I suppose he doesn’t need me as much now. I just, I don’t like this feeling.” She put her face in her hands.
“Tabitha, you have done an excellent job, and he will always need you.” Milt came closer and rubbed her shoulders.
She needed that, badly. Looking up, she saw his dark curly hair hanging down in his eyes. She’d always loved his unruly hair. Tabitha imagined herself running her fingers through that hair and pulling him down to her with an inviting kiss. Yet, she smelled of breast milk since Peter hadn’t nursed for hours. Soon, the formula would take the place of mother’s milk and--And the mood was gone. The moment, ruined. She looked back up at Milt’s curly hair and wondered if he’d get a haircut for New Years. Not quite a romantic thought.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, sincerely. “I did call. I started to worry when you weren’t here, but then I saw the note you left.”
“Well, it’s what I would have wanted you to do for me.” She stared at him coldly.
He didn’t know how to answer. He was used to getting attitude from her; Lord only knew she was a pistol. But this felt different. Like a knife in the back. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, or so they say. He was usually on the fence lately when deciding how much to tell her about his side projects with Jack. Stopping an evil scientist he had not yet met, to be exact.
“How are things at the gallery?” He changed the subject swiftly, tried to shift it to a positive note. At least he hoped it would be positive.
“Oh, they’re going to be the hot spot for ringing in the Millenium. The party will be something else, and the food will be divine. They’re beefing up security. That’s something new. It seems they’re afraid people will riot when the year 2000 hits.”
“Will we be able to leave around 9 or 10 p.m.?”
She let out a huge sigh. “Oh, I guess so.”
“Sorry to drag you to a party of stiffs. I am sure they won’t be as interesting as your art crowd.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see which party pleases. Thanks for cooking dinner, by the way.” With a flick or her long hair, she walked toward the bedroom door.
“It’s ready. Wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m not hungry. Guess I’m just in a mood. Really. I’m sorry. I kind of have a headache. I’ll try to eat a little later.” She shrugged and opened the bedroom door, stepping in. It was one of those rare moments when Peter was sleeping quietly. Another nap was in order.
Milt looked at her with concern. “Tabitha, maybe you need to step back and realize you are trying to do too much,” he spoke in a soft voice.
She turned for a moment, but all she gave him was a glare, and a close of the door.
Chapter 4
Conversational Landmines
Trying to do too much? Who does he think he is? Is that the man I married? Is he insinuating that I’m failing or that I can’t handle this? Everyone was right, marriage is hell. Yet it seemed so wonderful at first. Was this little blessing in the form of a bundle of joy going to be their doing in? What an irony that would be.
Tabitha couldn’t sleep. And right now she really needed that dream of Mars. Images fluttered before her eyelids, but sleep
would not come.
The woman at the shoe store- who did she look like? She reminded Tabitha of someone, with her petite yet womanly figure and tawny yet creamy complexion with an attitude to match it.
The girl with the angel wings! She had stood outside the coffee shop in the year 2047. The things Tabitha and Milt had seen. Anyone would think she were insane if she talked about them. Yet, for a number of days, they were reality to her and Milt. A reality that may never come to pass. It was hard not to get too attached to it. She thought of the girl as a friend, from the mere three sentences she had spoken to them. A little cranky, almost to the point of crass, but she softened and explained her attempt at a life change. She seemed to be going through quite a big amount of stress. Tabitha could identify. Funny, Tabitha could not remember if she had given her name.
Other images flooded into Tabitha’s mind. The electronics shop; was that what it was called? The device that told her where her brother was in 2047. She shuddered, then remembered her parents’ memorial. Brandon. The woman with a cat’s paw. Milt putting his hair up to not look so much like himself. Milt, her “partner in crime”. How that last excursion had brought them together, breaking so many rules, trying to right their own wrongs, being powerless to do so. Time travel really was dangerous.
And yet, the Envo was parked in their garage. Only one room away, a portal to another time. How easily she could just hop in and escape to a whole new world.
Her body felt weary, but her mind would not stop. She heard a stirring on the monitor and then the familiar cries. She jerked as if to get up, but her legs stayed firmly in place. Milt came to the door. It was close to midnight.
“Tabitha, are you awake? Should I just give him formula? Or I could bring him to you.”
“Yeah, okay.”
A moment later the door opened and Milt handed her Peter. He then sat down beside her, and lay back.
“I’ve been thinking we should get away, maybe the first weekend in January.”
“I’d LOVE to get away,” she responded. Peter was getting fussy again.
Talking over his shoulder, he left the room. “Let me double check my calendar. Oh wait, there’s an inventor’s convention at the end of January. Shoot! We’ll have to make it February. ” He came back in.
“Hmmm. ‘Shoot.’ I’m thinking of a stronger word.”
“Well, feel free. You know, my dad never cursed. My mother was the one who used strong language, and it was always in Italian….”
Tabitha rolled over and faced the other side of the room, laying Peter beside her. “Yes, I know. Your mother was the outspoken one, quite similar to how things go with us. Milt, I’m not in the mood for this. You’ve been thinking we should get away? Are you sure? Can you just, just leave the room?”
He opened his mouth but no words came out.
She sighed and added, “Why’d you even come in here, trying to make me feel better with some false promise?”
“No, I---”
“Milt, just leave the room.”
He knew he had done it again. Having her turn her back on him was just one clue. Milt didn’t even have to try and he was stepping in it at every turn, putting his foot in his mouth, setting off land mines unaware. Leaving the room, he realized it was almost bed time. Tomorrow would be a tiresome day. He wasn’t really sure just how he could make things better for Tabitha. The turmoil in her mind had to be hormonal, chemical, due to stress and the extreme physiological changes. Family upsets, like Jared taking off again, did not help that stress level. He knew what it was, but he never knew the right thing to say! Was this just the downfall of being a man? When timing seemed better, he would recommend they go and talk to someone. Overall, he really wished Tabitha would just tell him what she needed from him. He had come so close just now.
Sitting down with a sigh, he flipped the TV on to the NASA channel. It was always relaxing to him. He could hear Peter crying. A moment later, Tabitha came out. Her cheeks were wet, most likely from tears.
“He fed for a little while and then was fussy; he just wasn’t getting enough. I don’t know why I feel like such a failure at this.” She handed the baby to Milt and went to take a bottle of formula out of the refrigerator.
“You’re not a failure. You were doing fine feeding him the first few weeks. Even breast-feeding for one month gives the baby incredible health benefits. Don’t feel bad about this.”
Staring at the TV, she took Peter from him and gave him the bottle, all the while mindlessly staring at the view of a sunrise from space. Well, perhaps not mindlessly, but who really knew what was going on in her mind?
“Jack had new information on Percival Stein,” Milt added, quietly, shuffling his feet.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, the inventor,” she said, uninterested. They hadn’t talked about it in a good while because, well, the whole idea was rather nerve-wracking and potentially downright depressing.
“We know where he lives, and we know his affiliations. It is possible we can stop the development of his weapon.”
“That’s nice.” She looked ahead at the television, dreaming of her own little get away, Peter happily sucking away at the bottle.
“I believe it is my duty to stop him and Dr. George Mahoney from commiserating or furthering the weapon of destruction. Even if by bringing in legal authorities. I just have to hope my P.I. finds some incriminating evidence. Believe me, so far, Jack has proven very competent. Nonetheless, I’m interviewing at M.I.T. on Thursday, just to get a feel for his territory. I don’t plan to work there. Please don’t worry, though. We have good help. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“What of the Envo? What happens to that dangerous little weapon?” Tabitha looked at him with steely eyes.
He looked at her, shocked. Of course, he did not want it in use. Yet, he was quite fond of it. He had driven it around town last weekend, stopped at the gas station, many gawking at that beautiful yet odd hybrid creation. Most just thought it was an awesome antique. They didn’t know. At any rate, the Allen wrench that made the time leap possible was in the night table drawer. Perhaps he should soon destroy the time leaping capabilities in the Envo. When would there be time? He’d have to make time.
“You know,” she added, “if I went back to 2047, knowing what I do now, that there are some things we are not supposed to know, that nothing is written in stone, I would not waste my time trying to find out my own fate. I think I would just sit back, look around, and observe, touching nothing.”
“Are you feeling guilty over our time spent there? I’ve felt it myself.”
“Oh, I feel a thousand horrible things, all with different names. Not all attributed to one thing. Motherhood. Time traveling. Seeing what we saw, knowing what I now know. My new figure, and evidently, new shoe size.”
“Are you feeling anything pleasant right now?”
“Yes. I feel the tenderness in my son’s hands and his head leaning on me. The smell of baby lotion and knowing he will have my nose.”
“I think I detect a smile.” Milt caressed her cheek.
“Maybe, Milt. I am just so tired.”
He had wanted to tell her about at least part of his plan to somehow stop George Mahoney’s plans that may or may not have even materialized yet. It might put her at ease, but it didn’t seem like the time to bring up such things.
Sensing she did not want to talk, Milt grew silent and turned to the TV. He always found the NASA channel relaxing. Fondly, he reminisced on the days that they were simply friends, how he admired her band t-shirts and the occasional torn sweatshirt when she came to help him tidy up his office. He had dreamed of holding her long before it ever happened. She always seemed to look on him as comic relief, yet he had been there for her many times.
It was interesting that they really came together on their last time-travel trip. So many things were revealed about Tabitha to him. It truly had brought them closer, even before he found out the details of their future that may hav
e only come partly true. Still, it was not a surprise that they would end up married. They had been slowly growing closer with time. He had wondered why she didn’t date anyone in the few years after breaking up with Adam. He had hoped it was because she was spending that time growing fond of Milt. Did any of those feelings remain? He sighed. The Envo had helped reveal many things to them and even had set them on a path to find her missing brother.
Little did he know that the aforementioned Envo was at the forefront of Tabitha’s thoughts.
Chapter 5
A Waking Dream
“I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.” -Emily Dickinson
They were both exhausted after putting Peter to bed in his crib. Tabitha fell asleep right away, but it was a fitful sleep, and she woke when the neighbor’s dog barked. A man with a huge weapon dominated her dreams. He was blurry, yet his silhouette was familiar, only from a picture she had once seen. She lay there, realizing it was George Mahoney who’d shown up in her dreams, a man they’d never known about until visiting the future and peering into a dark past from that surreal vantage point. She looked into the darkness at Milt’s vague outline, hearing his heavy snoring. How nice it would be to have such a deep sleep.
Sure, they’d discovered some scary things when visiting 2047, but there were also many wonders. If she wanted to use the Envo, did she know what to do? The little wrench was in the nightstand. She quietly took it from its place and held it against her, feeling its cold steel. Not any ordinary Allen wrench but the same size and similar shape, it had carvings and notches much like a key. One of a kind, that simple little tool could set in motion the complex machinery that could take her to another time. She didn’t understand the mechanics of what was under the hood being activated, but she’d seen Milt use it many times and was confident she could do it herself. She knew its purpose.
What about one last little trip? They certainly couldn’t go together. Someone had to stay behind with their child. There was a little danger involved, but then again, wasn’t there danger every time one stepped out of the house and got into their car?
Undercurrents in Time Page 3
