by Holly Hook
"We've got to try something."
"We will. Like I said, we shouldn't wait around for the crap to happen."
"But what?"
"Get educated. Learn everything you can. Trust me." He glances at the computer. And with one last kiss, he slips out quietly into the early morning.
Even though I have no clue what Simon means about the loophole, I'm going to take his suggestion to heart.
My clock reads five-fifteen in the morning. If I go back to bed, I can catch another hour of sleep before school.
But instead, I head back to Nancy's study and seize A Night to Remember off her shelf.
I'm going to get educated and learn everything I can about the Titanic.
Every deck. Every room. Even every chilling detail of the sinking, by the minute.
If he thinks it will help, it probably will.
Blinking away the exhaustion from my eyelids, I get to work.
* * * * *
"My first day here was April fifteenth, wasn't it?" I ask Nancy.
She and Monica sit at the table, already digging into breakfast. Monica spreads jam on a piece of toast. Nancy sips her coffee, her own food untouched in front of her. My tired mind jostles deck letters and lifeboat departure times.
"You remembered." Nancy points a spoon at me and stirs the cream into her coffee. There's a smile in her eyes. "It seems like it's been longer, hasn't it?"
That was after Simon pulled me out of that deadly cold water, after he dragged me to the Hub and Time blocked my real memory. After he put me here on Nancy's doorstep and accidentally freaked me out with those golden eyes of his.
I nod.
Yeah, no wonder I didn't say much that day.
“Nancy,” I say. I check the time. I have half an hour before we need to leave to for school. “I'm doing a project at school about the Titanic. Can you tell me about it? As much as you can?”
Nancy beams. “I'd love to,” she says. “Grab a notebook. Jot down lots of notes.”
* * * * *
I fire up the school computer as soon as I'm in Independent Study and struggle my way to a travel site. Houston…Cleveland…even Anchorage. My head spins with airfare and train tickets as I click on anything I can to start making plans.
Tracked or not, a moving target is harder to hit.
All I need to do for the fourteenth and the fifteenth is to keep going enough to stay ahead of the Timeless.
That's all. Then when the anniversary passes, they’ll have a harder time sending me back. I’ll think about what I’m going to do after that when the time comes.
"You know, if we want to go somewhere else, we can always cut through the Hub."
I jump and spin in my seat. Simon stands right behind me, his hands gripping the back of my chair.
I check the room to make sure Mr. Iris isn't here yet. Thankfully, he usually doesn't stroll in until the second the bell rings. "But won't I lose my memory all over again as soon as I come out in a new place?"
"Not if we stay in the same time. At least, I don't think you will." Doubt crosses his features. "And I know what you're thinking."
"And that is--?"
"If you travel from now to the sixteenth of April to skip the deadline, you will lose your memory and we start all over again."
I push out my chair and swivel it around, slapping my hand on my jeans. "That did cross my mind, actually. And no, I'm not in the mood to get another mind wipe."
"I didn't think you were. That's no way to live, repeating the same thing year after year."
"But I have to live is the thing."
"That's the problem." Simon takes his seat, not even checking the door. He's thrown caution out. It must take him a lot to appear with me when the other Timeless are no doubt pretty close. He’s not even in his hoodie today.
"Wait," I say, lowering my voice as the figures of my classmates filter in through the door. "So if I escape the fourteenth this year and keep my memory, I'll still have next year's anniversary to worry about?"
Simon nods. "You will, but you'll be much better prepared for the next one now that you know the truth. Time might--what's the saying?--cut you some slack if you prove that you're not a danger to the way history is supposed to flow. That's my hope, anyway."
"And how would I be a danger?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "It's not like I'm going to turn into a dictator and start World War Three." I force a grin. "Am I?"
"Changes to the flow of time are usually more subtle than that."
"I'm not a pest that needs to be exterminated," I protest. So much more wants to spill out. Why did 1500 of us have to die? But Simon's doing his best. He didn't make the decision. He didn't even want to get pulled away from me. That's one thing I remember perfectly.
Simon squeezes my hand. "I know you're not. Nobody that night was. History is cruel."
"Really. I've researched enough of it." I wave my hand around the room, watching as Simon runs his free hand across the keyboard. "What's it like to go Timeless?"
Simon's face clouds. He looks away at the blank monitor. "Confusing," he says. "All I remember is gold light. And your voice echoing in my mind. I kept calling for you. That's all I could do. You never answered."
I join him in looking at the screen. He grips my hand tighter with pain that for a moment, I share.
"How long did we know each other?" That's another question burning inside me.
He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes a second later, sealing itself like it has every time he's meant to tell me the truth.
"I forgot. That goes under the 'mortal life' category."
"That's right." He sighs. "I can only talk about that night, since you know about that now. I'm sorry."
"Somehow, I have the feeling that it was more than just a little while," I tell him, trying to hide my disappointment.
"It was," he says at last, smiling. "It's like we're playing a game, isn't it? You ask yes and no questions until we get to the answer."
"Maybe that won't be so bad," I say, turning back to the computer as Mr. Iris strides into the room and the bell rings. "I should ask when my real birthday is once I'm not running for my life. That'll be about three hundred yes or no questions, though."
We decide not to settle on any escape location. There's too much of a chance of Frank or Isabel tracking down my Internet activities. I've hung around Monica enough to learn that nothing on the Internet is really private.
"They might both be from before the time of computers, but they've had way more time than you to learn," Simon tells me when class lets out. "I think we should make it random, you know?”
"I agree."
"Then we have to keep them on their toes about where you'll appear next," he says, lips brushing my cheek to the ringing of the bell. "I'm going to walk you to work. You know, like a real suitor should?"
I don't object to that at all, even though Simon fishes his hoodie out of his locker and puts it on, covering as much of his face as he can. He looks like a monk as he takes my hand again, letting me lead him to the exit. It sucks that I can't see his chocolate eyes as he talks to me, but at least his hand is in mine and he's here.
The warm spring air envelops us outside. "Thanks for being careful." I wrap my hand in his. This is miles from the cold night I fell through over a hundred years ago, so much that for a second, I'm not sure it's even possible.
"Well, if I get caught, I won't be able to help you in a couple of days since Frank and Isabel will drag me to the Hub and tell Time I've been misbehaving. Then I'll have nothing but that berth to stare at."
"True. But even without that, I don't want you to get in trouble." I pause next to the school plaque, making him stop. "Berth? Like a ship berth? Your quarters are literally the inside of the Titanic?" My stomach flips at the thought. "That's where we were?"
"Yes. Isn't that a great joke Time's played?" he says without looking up or exposing his face. He kicks at a rock. "All of the Timeless stay in the memories of wherever they cam
e from. Someone who was supposed to die in a war might have their quarters be an army tent on the same battlefield. Someone who was supposed to go in a tsunami might find themselves in the village that got swept away. Time doesn't even care how its caretakers feel."
"That's sad. And scary." I start to walk again, keeping Simon's hand locked in mine. "I don't blame you for not spending a lot of time there. Time seems to really want to get you guys down, doesn't it?"
“It's just the way it works. Like I said, it's uncaring, just like the rest of the universe. If Time were a man, I'd kill him."
I balk at Simon's words. "But it's like, a force of nature. You can't. What would it do to everything?"
"You never know. If Time were to die, maybe its body would still be there but it would stop sending us Timeless on missions. It might make the universe a better place. At least you wouldn't be going through this."
"But Time's in your blood. Wouldn't you die, too?"
"Maybe." He stares straight ahead and keeps walking. "There's no way to be sure. But Time's death is fun to think about."
I'm silent.
Simon wants to destroy Time itself because of me.
I'm not sure what to think of that. He's so...bitter. Determined. How has his life as an immortal changed him? What has he seen?
I decide to change the subject. "We weren't first class passengers, were we?”
I don't need his answer. I know, somewhere deep down, that money was something I wasn't ever familiar with. I've carried that fact with me my entire life. It's why I felt so out of place on that limo. Why I resent the East Side for being so privileged and not even realizing how lucky they are. It's why I work while the other girls party.
“Third,” he says at last, free to speak now that I already know the truth. The word is heavy like a death sentence, because it is a death sentence. “We didn't have much of a chance, Julia. More than half of us didn't even make it to the top deck in time to get a boat. By time we got there, they were all gone.”
I grip Simon's hand tighter in mine.
He's shaking.
But I hardly notice, because so am I.
“Houston,” I blurt, wrapping my arms around him. It's random. It makes no sense for me to go there. “Let's try there first. We should probably leave before the sun goes down on the fourteenth. They won't come after me until later that night, will they?”
Simon hugs me back so tight I can barely breathe. “I hate Time. I can't describe how much I hate that it left you. If I could tear it all down, I would.”
But he does describe it. Through the stretched agony in his voice, he does very well.
Simon walks me to Happy Rabbit's. I barely notice the trip there. It passes in a blur of colors and a background of random sounds.
I'm only conscious of Simon's hand in mine.
It still trembles as much as breathes out, trying to make it stop.
For a moment, I'm relieved that I can't recall most of the horror. Simon looks down as he walks. Screams must echo through him with every step. The cold must cut into him as he falls, unable to reach me, unable to take my hand. The ocean must stretch out below him, promising a slow, agonizing death.
Worst of all, he can't let any of the pressure out.
I can't envy the Timeless anymore for anything.
At last, we walk up the sidewalk towards Happy Rabbit's, passing its pastel sign with its carrot letters and the green lawn.
Peggy opens the front door for me. She's got a squirming Shaun by both arms. She studies me and Simon, eyebrows rising in confusion. I glance at him. He steps up on the porch, silent but determined, and flashes a smile at Peggy. Translation: he's staying with me through my shift. It's an idea I welcome like a warm room in the middle of winter.
“This is Simon,” I tell Peggy, reading her features for any sign of an answer. “My new boyfriend. Is it OK if he hangs out with us for a little while? I promise he'll behave.”
Simon manages a laugh. It dispels the thick air a little, letting me breathe again.
Peggy's not crazy about the idea. It's obvious from the way she wrinkles the side of her mouth. “I suppose,” she says after a long pause. “Just so you're forewarned, the kids have been pretty riled up today. We might be on our feet quite a bit.”
Simon nods. "Thank you."
A twinge of panic rises up through my chest, vibrating like a live wire. My chest grows empty as if air has filled the space where my heart is. I grip Simon's hand hard enough to kill his circulation.
He glances at me, eyes questioning.
I shrug, letting out a slow, deep breath. I shouldn't feel like this on the porch of Peggy's house. There's no reason. It's too much like the time by the pond where I--
Someone yells inside the house and Peggy turns, disappearing back inside with Shaun in tow. She waves us in, shouting something that I don't make out.
Inside, shrieks and screams of playing kids float up from the basement. Peggy thunders down the steps and shouts something else at the children, clapping her hands.
I release Simon's hand and take a step to follow her.
I'm not sure if I can do this today, not with all this on my mind. Just thinking of Eric--
No.
The walls close in as the tense string in my chest breaks. I whirl around.
"Julia?" Simon grabs my shoulders.
I face him, taking in his wide eyes.
That hallway flashes back into my mind. The boy--no older than five or six--screams for me over the rushing sound, the noise that can be no other than the rising ocean itself. I just know now.
“My brother,” I gasp. “He died on the ship. I let him down. I should have saved him.”
Simon reaches up and lowers his hood.
Grips the arm of the couch so hard it creaks and threatens to break.
Nods.
“It wasn't your fault, but he didn't make it,” he says, glaring at the floor. “He wasn't there by time we fell, so he didn't have to endure that.”
An invisible fist squeezes my heart so hard that all my breath escapes me and I fall back to the arm of the couch. It takes all I have to stay upright. I focus on the zipper of Simon's hoodie. It grows bigger and bigger in my vision, threatening to explode.
My brother.
Screaming for me.
“Then he drowned below decks,” I say. That’s why he was screaming for me in the hallway. I throw my backpack down onto the couch. It slides off and lands on the floor. “Water was coming in. I couldn't get him out of there.” My chin trembles. My legs give up and I collapse on the cushion. I can't even remember the face of my brother. His name. Anything. It's all dead and gone. All that’s left is pain. “And my parents, too? I'm sure they didn't make it off either.”
Simon's right there on the couch beside me. He says nothing. Time still blocks him from speaking what I don't know.
But his silence is answer enough for me.
Peggy says something downstairs as another child--probably Misha with that ear-splitting laugh of hers--knocks something over.
My little brother was no older than these kids when he died.
And I let him.
The corners have never looked darker. The cracks in the floor have never gone down deeper. They grow longer, ready to break and send me falling down into an abyss.
Peggy's rushing back up the stairs. The sound's a mile away. “Julia, can you grab some paper towels? We have some spilled orange j--”
“Please!” I rise from the couch and seize my backpack. “I'm leaving. It's not like I can be much use here, anyway.”
I throw the front door open and bolt down to the sidewalk. It bangs in my ear. I make a left and start to run.
And run.
And run.
I can't take care of anybody.
I let my little brother die as he screamed for me to save him.
Peggy calls my name, but I don't care anymore. I probably won't be alive in a few days, anyway. It won't matter.
Si
mon does the same as the door thuds again.
I pump my legs, trying to outrun the screams in my head. My brother's screams. His last screams. They follow me even closer than the hairs on the back of my neck.
I let my little brother die, and I don't even know his name.
* * * * *
By time my sides shout out in pain and make me stop, I'm shocked to see that I'm standing in front of the Branch. I blow my hair out of my face and watch the letters above the entrance fire up in hot pink, the only light against the overcast sky. A couple of middle school girls in skates stand just inside the entrance, pointing at me and laughing at the nightmare my fiery hair but have become on my run. I resist the urge to flip them off and go in there to knock them on their butts.
I have no energy left to do that, anyway.
“Julia. There you are.”
Simon's not even out of breath as he appears next to me. His eyes give away just a hint of their gold. It's sharp and angry, but I’m glad he’s there. It's not at me.
“I need to go back.” I force the words out, hoarse.
“You do,” he says, patting me on the back. “Peggy's worried about you. She's calling Nancy as we speak.”
I face the doors of the Branch. “No. Not to Happy Rabbit's. I mean back.”
His features widen in shock. “Julia? Have you just misplaced your sanity?”
“I need to go back for my brother. Is there a way to go back to just before I wound up in the water? Earlier that night? Or even before we board the ship?” I stare hard at the door to the Branch. The rift might still be there, ready for me to take another dive into the wall. That's all it'll take. Once in the Hub, it should be easy to return to 1912. Time wants that. The rest of the Timeless want that. One of them will be glad to show me the way, Simon or no.
I make for the door.
Then Simon's in front of me, blocking my view of the Branch. He holds his arms out, forcing me to stop. “If you go back, you'll forget that you even need to save him. You'll watch the same thing happen again. And once Rogues are sent back to their original time, they go back to when they were sleeping last unless some trigger event is what does it, like Eric going into the pond. It's another thing Time does to protect itself. It doesn't want people having lapses of memory to wonder about later. If you go back through a rift now, you'll be asleep in your berth on the night of the sinking."