Chapter 4 #3
Seth got up and walked to the window, then peered through the cold glass, whose chill was readily apparent even from a few inches away.
The snow was coming down in thick, heavy flakes, and several inches had already accumulated on the ground.
This definitely wasn’t the mild winter weather they’d been enjoying in their own time.
“When are we?” he asked, even though he was already dreading the answer.
Devynn rose from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen, where she’d apparently spied a newspaper lying on the table — a paper he knew hadn’t been there when they’d left. “December 23rd, 1925.”
A date when he would have been living here at the house. Thank the Goddess the bungalow was currently empty — he guessed that his former self would have been at work on that snowy Wednesday a year ago — but they sure weren’t when they were supposed to be.
No, they were around a hundred and twenty years too early.
“It’s all right,” Seth said, trying to keep his voice calm. “At least no one was around to see us show up here. We just need to jump forward again.”
But even as the words left his lips, he could see how pale Devynn had become, how her hands trembled slightly. Despite her claims about practicing, he knew that her gift was very difficult to control, and he wasn’t sure how many jumps she could attempt before she wore herself out completely.
“I can do it,” she said firmly, forestalling any questions.
Seth wasn’t entirely convinced, but he knew better than to argue.
“Okay.”
And he went over to where she stood so he could knot his fingers in hers once again.
This time, when the world blurred around them, he felt something go wrong even before they reemerged from that other-when between milliseconds. The transition was rougher, almost jarring, and when reality reasserted itself, he was nearly knocked off his feet by a wall of oppressive heat.
Sunlight blazed through the windows with an intensity that made him squint, and the air was thick and stifling. Even inside the bungalow, it felt like an oven.
“Oh, hell,” Devynn muttered.
Seth looked around the bungalow for another newspaper, but he didn’t need one to know they’d overshot their mark. The brutal heat, the angle of the sun, the way the light fell across the familiar furniture — this was summer. Deep summer, from the feel of it.
“July 1927,” he said after a quick glance into the kitchen, where a calendar had always hung. Other details about the bungalow felt wrong, though, like the curtains at the windows and the pillows on the sofa, and it hit him.
That would have been a year after he disappeared. By then, his cousin Margie would have already moved into the little house. It didn’t look as if she’d replaced the furniture — probably because she couldn’t afford it — but she’d apparently changed whatever small details she could.
“Well, crap,” Devynn said, her voice weaker than ever. She swayed slightly on her feet, and Seth quickly moved to steady her.
“That’s enough,” he said, making sure he sounded firm enough that she wouldn’t argue with him. “You need to give yourself a chance to rest.”
Where, he had no idea. Sure, his cousin didn’t appear to be home at the moment, but she could come back at any time. And if she found the two of them there….
Well, that would require a lot more explanations than he currently had the energy for.
“No.” Devynn shook her head, although she put a hand up to her temple, as if even that simple movement had hurt. “I can do one more. We have to get out of here.”
Seth wanted to argue, but he could see the determination in her eyes. And more than that, he could see the fear. They were trapped in the wrong time, and she feared she might not be able to take them to the correct one.
“All right,” he said reluctantly. “But if the next jump doesn’t work, we’ll have to find a place where we can wait this out. You need time to recover.”
She nodded, though he wasn’t sure she was really listening. All her attention appeared to be focused inward, gathering what remained of her strength.
The world dissolved around them, and Seth could almost feel Devynn’s gift falter halfway through the transition, sense the way reality seemed to stutter and skip around them like a broken phonograph record.
For a terrifying moment, he thought they might be lost completely, trapped between moments in some gray limbo.
Then they crashed back into the world with enough force to send them both stumbling.
At least the light seemed right this time — the bright afternoon sun of the Christmas Day they’d left behind. But Devynn collapsed onto the sofa, her face ashen and her breathing shallow.
Oh, hell. Seth sat down next to her, wondering what he should do. Call the healer, probably, but he really didn’t feel up to explaining to Helen exactly what was wrong with Devynn.
“I’m okay,” she said. The words came out in a breathy gasp, contradicting that claim. “Just…give me a minute.”
Seth reached over and touched her forehead with the back of his hand. The skin was fever-hot despite the cool air in the bungalow.
“This is insane,” he said. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
“Like we have a choice?” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “If we don’t leave soon — ”
She was right, and they both knew it. But seeing her like this, so obviously depleted and struggling, Seth could feel his resolve waver. Was getting back to the twenty-first century really worth risking her health? Her life?
Before he could voice those thoughts, Devynn struggled to sit up.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Seth checked his watch again. “Two-thirty.”
Two and a half hours until they were expected at the prima’s house. Two and a half hours to make their final preparations and say goodbye to a life he’d already abandoned once.
This time, though, he would try to leave some kind of words behind, something to let everyone know this was something he’d chosen.
“We need to go soon,” Devynn said. “Before your parents come looking for us.”
Seth nodded. His chest was tight; he might have understood deep down that he was doing the right thing, but this didn’t make it hurt any less for all that. “I know.”
He got up from the sofa and went over to the small writing desk on the other side of the room, then pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen.
If he was going to disappear again, the least he could do was leave behind some sort of explanation.
Not the whole truth — he wasn’t sure whether anyone would even believe him, since no one in the McAllister family had Devynn’s time-traveling gift — but something that might give his parents a measure of peace.
Mom and Dad, he began, then stopped. What could he possibly say that would make his sudden departure seem reasonable?
We wanted to spend one last Christmas with you, but now Devynn and I have to leave again. Please don’t try to look for us — we’ve gone someplace where you can’t follow, somewhere we need to be.
I know this will hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. But please know we’re not in any danger, and we’re not running from anything here in Jerome. This is just something we have to do.
I love you both more than I can say. Take care of each other.
Your son, Seth
The note was terribly inadequate, he knew.
Nothing he could write would truly explain or justify what they had to do.
They couldn’t tell the truth and say they were returning to the future, however.
Doing so would only make his parents ask too many questions, might make Charles press them for information about his future with Abigail, information Seth knew they could never divulge.
But it was better than nothing…better than disappearing without a single word, the way he had last time.
The way he almost had this time as well.
Maybe coming back here had been a blessing in disguise…well, except for the way these jumps in time were taking such a horrible toll on the woman he loved.
He folded the letter carefully and placed it in an envelope, writing his parents’ names on the front. Then he set it down on the kitchen table, where he knew it would be easily found when they came looking for him.
When he returned to the living room, Devynn was standing by the window, staring out at the familiar view of Jerome’s steep, snowy streets and terraced buildings.
“Having second thoughts?” she asked quietly, clear, blue-gray eyes still fixed on the world outside.
Seth joined her at the window and followed her gaze.
In the distance, he saw smoke rising from the chimneys of a dozen different houses, could imagine the families gathered inside for their own Christmas celebrations.
His parents were probably preparing for that evening’s dinner at the prima’s house, Molly fussing over which dress to wear while Henry polished his shoes.
“Yes,” he replied, even though he knew that was a horribly simple word to communicate the feelings that roiled inside him. “Are you?”
“I suppose so.” Devynn turned to look at him, and he could see the exhaustion still etched on her lovely features. There was something else, though…resolve, maybe, or just acceptance of what had to be done. “But we can’t stay, Seth. You know that.”
He did know it. They’d already been here too long, had already risked too much.
Every day they remained in 1926 was another day they might inadvertently change something, might set in motion events that would ripple forward through time and alter the future they belonged to.
Just being here for a family Christmas he was never supposed to experience was bad enough.
And yet….
“I know,” he said finally. “I just wish….”
He let the words trail off. Wishing to be in two places…two times…was impossible, and they both knew it.
“I know,” she said softly. “I wish things could be different, too.”
They stood together in silence, watching the afternoon light slant across the living room, so different from how the space looked in the future and yet so familiar at the same time.
Very soon, this would all be a memory — the bungalow in its current incarnation, Jerome of the 1920s, his parents, everything that had defined his life for the first twenty-four years of his existence.
The thought was almost unbearable.
But as he looked at Devynn, saw the way she struggled to stay upright despite her exhaustion, Seth knew they were out of choices. They had to leave, and they had to leave now, before she was too weak to make the journey.
“How much time do you need to recover?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She leaned against the window frame and closed her eyes. “Twenty minutes? Maybe a half hour?”
“Then we’ll wait thirty minutes,” Seth said. “And then we’ll go home.”
Home. It still felt strange to think of the twenty-first century that way, but Devynn was right — that was where they belonged. Where their life together was waiting for them.
Even if leaving this place behind felt like tearing out a piece of his heart.