by Bryan Davis
“Nathan?”
The voice from the cell phone shook him out of his thoughts. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking. Where was I?”
Her voice faded to a whisper. “What do you want me to tell Daryl Red?”
He gazed at Kelly's glistening eyes and let out a sigh. “Tell her I'm on my way.” He clapped the phone shut and banged on the steering wheel with his fist. “I can't believe this!”
“It'll be okay,” Kelly said, touching his elbow. “We'll go to the other place as soon as we get Daryl out of her jam. Don't forget, what we do there only takes a little while here and on Earth Red.”
“I know, but I keep getting the feeling that I'm putting on the clown suit Patar talked about.”
“Don't worry about that freak of nature.” She rubbed his upper arm. “Just keep telling yourself that he wanted you to kill Scarlet. You're not the clown. He is.”
He cut off the engine and reached for the other mirror on the backseat. “I'd better see if I can fire this thing up without going home. Every second we talk could be an hour for Daryl. We don't want her strangling your father.”
After playing “Foundation's Key” on the violin, the mirror's image morphed from a reflection of the car's interior to Daryl, still sitting at the desk, now with her head resting on her folded arms. As expected, the rain had stopped, removing the need for an umbrella and for a doting, younger Tony to shelter her from getting wet. The computer monitor cast a green glow across her red hair, painting it with a light brown hue. Her head moved up and down slightly, yet not with a breathing rhythm.
“I think she's crying.” Kelly pointed the flashlight at the mirror. “Can we go?”
Nathan gave her a nod. “Let's do it.”
She flashed the light. Instantly, the world surrounding the car melted like candle wax and dripped away, revealing the familiar house. They still sat in the car, now parked between Daryl's table and the cottonwood tree in the front yard.
Since the engine wasn't running, they hadn't made a sound. Nathan pressed his finger to his lips and opened the door quietly. Kelly slid out through the driver's side, and the two skulked toward Daryl on tiptoes.
The old-fashioned radio hummed, and the tiny satellite dish rotated, making a slight squeak with every turn. Daryl's head bobbed, and her quiet weeping blended with the other sounds.
Nathan gritted his teeth. He wanted to say the right thing, something funny to break the tension, like, “Don't shoot me, I'm only the violin player,” but her pitiful cries squelched any thought of using her as the butt of a joke.
He reached forward and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I'm here, Daryl. I'm sorry it took so long.”
13
A MOTHER'S LAMENT
Daryl's head popped up. She stared at Nathan with red eyes, tears following well-marked tracks down her cheeks. At first, a hint of a smile turned her lips upward, but a furrowed brow took over and twisted her face into a ferocious scowl. She rose slowly from her chair, her shoulders raised. As she rounded the corner of the desk, she lifted her hand and pushed a finger into Nathan's chest. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you, Mister Nathan Shepherd?”
She pressed him hard with her finger. He backpedaled, but she closed the gap. “I'll tell you how long! Two years, eight months, fourteen days, three hours, seven minutes, and …” She glanced at a watch on her wrist. “And forty-five seconds!”
Nathan halted, and Daryl kept poking his chest, her cheeks now flaming. “I finished high school, started college, rejected three marriage proposals, started my own computer consulting business, and moved into an apartment to get away from Romeo, a.k.a. Tony Clark, who is ignoring Kelly's mom in order to deliver a single red rose to me every day. I've been trying to push him away, but I still have to come to his house to use the transmitter, because I can't get a signal from inside my apartment, and I can't run an extension cord from my kitchen to the park across the street. So he says I'm coming here because I can't stay away from him.”
Daryl drew in a long breath. As she raised her finger to make another point, she stared at Kelly and Nathan in turn. Her brow loosened, and her bottom lip began to tremble. She lunged forward, grabbed Nathan around his waist, and leaned her head against his chest. “Oh, Nathan! I'm so glad you came to get me! I waited and waited and sent so many messages, and I only got one answer over two years ago. I thought I'd never get out of this place! Never!”
As she sobbed, Kelly rubbed her back. “I'm sorry it took so long,” Kelly said. “It was only overnight and part of a day for us.”
Nathan added his own hand to Kelly's comforting rub. “Didn't you get another message? I just sent it telling you I was on my way.”
Daryl just shook her head. Her tears seeped through Nathan's shirt, but he didn't dare pull away.
“That must mean power's out at Interfinity Blue,” he said. “Daryl Blue couldn't relay it.”
Squeaking hinges sounded from the front door, followed by a booming male voice. “Hey! What's going on here? Who are you two?”
Nathan turned his head. A gangly young man, at least six foot three, ambled out of the house. A younger Tony Clark strode toward them, his eyes bugging out as he approached. “Why is Daryl crying?”
Nathan pushed Daryl away gently and cleared his throat. “We're old friends from high school. Daryl's just really glad to see us.” He extended his hand. “I'm Nathan.”
As Tony took Nathan's hand, he leaned over slightly and peered at Nathan's face. “You look just like Flash, a friend of mine. You're a little younger, but I swear you're his twin. You wouldn't happen to be related to Solomon Shepherd, would you?”
“My father's name is Solomon, but he's a lot older.” Trying not to grimace at Tony's crushing grip, Nathan gestured toward the computer and transmitter with his thumb. “That's quite a setup you've got there.”
“You bet it is.” Tony released Nathan and took three long strides toward the desk. “We're getting signals from outer space, and Daryl's trying to translate them. Maybe we can ‘phone home,’ like in E.T.” He slapped his thigh and let out a roaring belly laugh. “Pretty funny, huh?”
Kelly clutched Nathan's arm and whispered, barely moving her lips. “My father was a real comic, wasn't he?”
Daryl wiped her eyes. “Tony, why don't you go inside and get them something to drink? They came a long way to get here.”
“Will do.” Tony glanced at the car in the middle of the yard. “Must've been too tired to stay on the road.” He grinned. “Get it? Too tired? The car has tires?” Now chuckling, he strode back into the house, repeating the joke to himself.
Daryl grabbed Nathan's shirt and jerked him close. “Get me outta here before he comes back! I've been listening to those lame jokes for over two years.”
“Wait!” Kelly raised her hand. “Shouldn't we make sure he switches his affections to my future mother? If he's heartbroken over you, maybe they won't get together.”
“Don't worry, Kelly-kins. Your mother will make sure she catches the rebound. She's chasing Tony like a hound hunting a fox. She's not likely to lose his trail.”
“We can't just leave,” Nathan said. “We have to get the bow.”
Daryl sighed. “Right. The bow. I forgot.”
Tony pushed the door open with his foot, two long-necked bottles dangling from each hand. “Got a game tonight,” he said as he passed the cold, wet bottles of Pepsi around. “Coach would kill me if I had a beer.”
Nathan took a long drink and nodded his appreciation. “So, uh, Tony, Daryl tells me you constructed a big violin bow.”
“Yeah. I found this letter that promised me a rare twenty-dollar bill if I followed all the instructions. But when I finished the bow, no one showed up to give me the money. So, I just hung it up on my wall.” He took a long drink and let out a quiet belch. “It looks pretty good there, actually. I decided to —”
Tony's jaw dropped open. “What did you say your name is?”
“Nathan. The
same guy who signed the letter.” He pulled out his wallet and withdrew a twenty. “Sorry it took me so long to bring it.”
Tony snatched the bill and examined it closely. “It's just like the other one. Andrew Jackson's head is a lot bigger.”
“Yeah. Check out the date. It's from the future, too.”
Tony's eyes bugged out twice as far as usual. “That's like the new movie!” He looked at Daryl. “What's it called?”
Daryl rolled her eyes. “Back to the Future, Tony.”
“That's it!” He shifted his wild stare back to the twenty. “I have to see that again!”
After taking another drink, Nathan eased toward the front door. “All right if I get the bow?”
“Sure.” Using his long legs, Tony strode ahead of him and held the door. “You paid for it. Besides, what am I going to do with a ten-foot-long bow?”
Nathan went inside and headed straight for the bedroom. He could hear Tony's voice as he followed. “You know where to go?”
“Yep!” He entered the bedroom and reached for the bow, suspended by metal hooks, but it was too high up on the wall.
Before Nathan could grab the desk chair, Tony marched in and pulled the bow from its perch. “Here you go.”
Nathan took it and gestured for Tony to sit. “Let's talk for a minute.”
Tony set his drink on the desk and pulled up the chair while Nathan settled on the bed with the bow at his side. “Listen,” Nathan said, “I can tell that you like Daryl. Am I right?”
“Yeah.” Tony grinned. “She's something else! Smart, cute, funny, and she loves movies.”
“But she hasn't been responsive, has she?”
“No. Playing hard to get, I think.” Tony took a quick swig from his bottle. “She keeps coming around here, though. Almost every day, really, so she must like me a little. I've been sending her roses, but I'm not sure it's working. You got any ideas?”
Nathan took in Tony's earnest expression. His sincerity and frankness were refreshing. Maybe it wasn't right to keep the truth from this poor guy. “You ever wonder why Daryl knows so much?” he asked. “I mean, she's not just smart, she probably upgraded that computer like she knew every bit of technology that was ready to hit the market.”
“Yeah. She's on top of things all right. Kind of spooky sometimes.”
Nathan pulled the twenty-dollar bill from Tony's fingers and showed it to him. “This isn't the only thing from the future.”
Again, Tony's eyes seemed to pop out from his skull. “Daryl is?”
Nathan smiled and nodded. “And so is the girl who came with me. We have to take Daryl back to the future.”
As Tony stared at Nathan, his smile slowly weakened, and a deep line traced across his brow. He shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “You had me going for a while. Who put you up to this? Flash? You're really his brother, right?” He looked around the room. “That old camera hound's probably already got a hundred shots of me acting like a fool. He'll probably show them to the whole team, and they'll get a kick—”
“It's not a joke.” Nathan laid the twenty back in Tony's hand. “You saw the car in the yard. Did you see any tire tracks?”
“I already figured that out. If everyone on the team chipped in, they could carry it. They couldn't afford a Delorean, so they brought a Toyota. I've never seen that model, though. I guess it's new.”
“You could say that.” Nathan leaned closer to Tony. “Listen. I'll prove we're from a future world, but you gotta help us out. First, did Daryl teach you how to use that computer and transmitter?”
Tony shook his head. “She wouldn't let me touch it, but I watched her enough times to figure it out.”
“Good. When we get back, I'll try to contact you through it. Second, when you go to see Back to the Future again, I think you should ask that other girl who's been trying to get your attention.”
“Molly? The law school student?”
“Yeah. I think …” Nathan bit his lip. He was about to say, “you'll have a wonderful life together,” but that would be a lie. Taking a breath, he finished with, “you and she should get married.”
Tony's brow bent down a notch. “Molly's cool most of the time, but she's got a nasty temper if you cross her, you know, typical Irish. But if you can prove what you say, I'll keep her in mind. I mean, if you know the future, I'm not going to argue with you.”
“One more thing. Can I get Flash's phone number? I have a message from the future for him, too.”
“Sure.” Tony jotted down the number on a pad and ripped off the top sheet. “Here you go.”
Nathan stuffed the sheet into his pocket. Considering all the information he had just spilled, would Tony be able to keep it to himself? He was probably a prime target for Mictar's dream-stalking, so he might not be able to hide what he knew.
Rising from the bed, Nathan looked Tony in the eye. “Are you a next-day dreamer or a traveler?”
“Neither. I don't dream at all. Makes life easier. I pity those folks who are getting harassed even when they're trying to sleep.”
“Yeah. It's like the Gestapo.” Cradling the huge bow in both hands, Nathan headed for the door. “Let's go.”
By the time they reached the car, Kelly was already in the front seat with the mirror in her lap, and Daryl had made room for herself in the back among the snacks and bedding.
Nathan eyed the car and the bow. It would never fit. He laid the bow on top and looked at it doubtfully. Could they take the chance that it might not come along for the cross-dimensional ride?
“I'll get some duct tape,” Tony said. “That ought to —”
Tires squealed as a van turned from the highway onto the narrow road, whipping the dying brown corn stalks as it passed between the fields.
Nathan whispered, “All right!” The familiar “Stoneman Enterprises” lettering and the slender feminine arm waving through the passenger-side window meant that his celestial duet partner had arrived.
“Friends of yours?” Tony asked.
“Yeah. I'll introduce you in a minute.”
When Gunther pulled to a stop in the driveway, Francesca jumped out and ran to Nathan. Wearing jeans and a long-sleeved gray T-shirt, she seemed dressed for manual labor. Her raven curls bounced in a bushy ponytail behind a baseball cap as she sidled up to him. “I'm ready to go!”
He gazed at her sparkling eyes, now at the same level as his own. “Tracked us down in a dream?” he asked.
She gave him a sly wink. “Gunther and I are better than a pair of bloodhounds.”
Gunther, his bulging flannel shirt showing a bit more muscle as well as a few extra pounds around the waist, lumbered up the driveway. Dangling a set of keys, he gestured with his head toward the van. “I'll trade you. That bow'll fit easily in the back.”
Nathan traded keys. “Help me move all our stuff?”
“No problem.” Gunther headed straight for the Toyota.
Dr. Malenkov stepped out of the van and walked slowly toward Nathan, his face solemn under his slightly grayer head.
Giving the teacher a smile, Nathan reached for his hand. “We'll take good care of her.”
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Malenkov replied, accepting the handshake. “Your mission's purpose cannot be delayed by my concerns for one precious life. With what is at stake, perhaps many sacrificial souls will be willing to risk everything. What is one life, or two or three for that matter, if billions are saved? I only wish I were young and gifted so I could take her place.”
Nathan felt his smile shrivel. As usual, Dr. Malenkov's words were saturated with wisdom. He wore the sad countenance of a father sending a daughter to the front lines of war, not knowing if she would ever return to his arms.
After Nathan introduced Tony to the newcomers, it took only a couple of minutes for everyone to move the food, drinks, bedding, and other items from the Toyota to the van. Soon, with Nathan behind the wheel, Kelly in the front passenger's seat, and Daryl and Francesca in the back, they were ready to
go. Kelly held the key mirror in front of the radio while Francesca studied Nathan's copy of “Foundation's Key.” After a few seconds, she lifted his violin. “Let's get this show on the road, Son!”
Nathan set his elbow on the window frame and leaned his head out. “Here comes your proof, Tony. Don't blink.”
While Tony backed away from the van, his eyes as large as ever, Francesca played “Foundation's Key,” giving the simple melody an exquisite rendering. The mirror darkened and again showed the field and sky, but now, with one horizon brightening to soft purple and orange, it seemed as though morning was about to break.
Holding the flashlight with both hands, Daryl pointed it at the mirror. “Fasten your seat belts! We're getting out of here!” She clicked the switch, sending a beam at the mirror. The reflected glow filled the van's interior, so bright it shimmered across the surrounding glass.
Nathan shielded his eyes from the blinding light. A heavy, static-filled bass rhythm pounded from the radio speakers. It banged against his eardrums and pulsed through his heart — throbbing, aching, pressing in from all sides.
As the glow slowly dimmed, the static eased. Music blended in, a violin playing a lovely, yet depressing piece. The windows cleared, but dark sky surrounded them, as if they were wrapped in a blanket of black. Not a single star interrupted the inky canopy.
Nathan rolled down his window. The music grew louder. With low tones that sang of loneliness and sorrow, it seeped into his mind and weighed down his heart. It was the music of the melancholy, a mournful dirge that swept away every joyful thought.
“The words are so sad!” Kelly said. “Someone's in a lot of pain.”
“You hear words? Can you tell us?”
“Let's see if I can find a good place to start.” After a few seconds, she sang the words quietly, keeping very close to the violinist's tune.
Weep, O my soul. Weep and lament.
Weep for the loss of my heart.
Weep for the solitude, weep for the past,
