A Time Traveler's Theory of Relativity

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A Time Traveler's Theory of Relativity Page 6

by Nicole Valentine


  “Hi Mom!” chirped Gabi. She somehow managed to beam a smile as if the world was completely normal. “Don’t get mad. Finn is surprising his gran with her favorite muffins from the Inn before heading over. He got caught in the storm and was going to keep on going, but I forced him to come inside and wait till it passed.”

  Gabi was the coolest liar in the whole world. He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or afraid.

  “Through the window?!” Mrs. Rand turned from Gabi to Finn, and the look on her face transformed from annoyance to sudden sympathy. “You—haven’t been to your gran’s yet, then?”

  “No.” Finn hated lying. He was sure a giant red flashing sign appeared on his forehead whenever he tried. Yet, Mrs. Rand didn’t seem at all suspicious. Instead she looked positively miserable. She was steeling herself for what she had to do. She had the horrific job of telling him about Gran. He felt awful for her. He wanted to tell her he already knew, but Gabi was staring at him, silently willing him to be quiet.

  He desperately tried to think what his reaction should be. He didn’t know the proper response to hearing Gran had died, especially when he knew he was still going to see her again. At least she had promised that, hadn’t she?

  She’d also said he could trust Doc Lovell and then her note said the exact opposite. His shoulders gave an involuntary shudder under three layers of rain-soaked clothing.

  “That was your great-aunt Billie on the phone. Dr. Lovell is at your gran’s now.” Finn watched Mrs. Rand’s neck quiver as she swallowed hard. She put her hand on his arm. “It isn’t good. I’m afraid your gran passed away in her sleep.”

  Somehow, he felt as if he was hearing it for the first time it. Mrs. Rand saying those words made the whole thing real. In his world, Gran no longer existed. For the third time in his life, he had lost someone irreplaceable.

  “I’m so sorry, Finn. She’s gone.”

  He had an impossible memory of a state police officer saying those exact words—she’s gone—to his crying parents. There was no way he could remember that.

  He remembered Dad saying those same words weeks ago when Finn screamed at him to go get Mom. Dad had been slumped in his office hair, face buried in his hands. He spoke through his fingers: “I can’t. She’s gone.”

  He didn’t want to hear those words ever again. Still, they echoed inside of him. He tried to speak to Mrs. Rand, to Gabi. They were looking at him, waiting. He couldn’t say anything. He was falling deep inside himself. He no longer felt wet and cold. He was hollow, full of echoes. Falling, with nothing to grab on to.

  She’s gone.

  The tears didn’t come. The heart-thumping panic didn’t come. There was nothing but a sense of the world being wrapped in cotton, wound over and over again. Gabi asked something and Mrs. Rand responded quietly, but he couldn’t discern what their words meant. They weren’t words anymore, more muffled echoes. Everything was submerged and silent as he kept falling down and down.

  He landed deep inside and stayed.

  °°°

  Over the next few hours a few things registered in his brain. Many voices. Some of the words would stay with him.

  “She’d been gone for hours . . . in her sleep . . . a mercy.”

  “Look at the poor boy, someone needs to reach James!”

  “James is terrible about checking his messages when he’s deep in research. Always drove Liz nuts.”

  “He can stay with us, Mom. Please.”

  “I need to speak to the boy.” A man’s angry voice. Mrs. Rand whispered back harsh words. It sounded like she pushed the visitor out to the porch, shutting the door behind her.

  Finn could hear him again. It was Doc Lovell. A dark fear quietly bloomed in Finn’s chest like a drop of black ink in water. Something about trust. He refused to let it wake him. He let the ink slowly dissipate and went back into his muffled world.

  For the rest of the night, words and actions were performed around him. He was an uninhabited heavy planet, too full of gravity. People orbited him slowly, like cautious satellites.

  Mrs. Rand gently forced him to eat something, and he took a few bites of what could have been cardboard for all he knew. This new world had no edges, no clear sounds, no taste.

  At one point he found himself sitting in Gabi’s kitchen staring out the window at the birds going about their business, hopping through the wet grass and chirping as if the day were like any other. He was angry at the nerve of them. And the sun, too. There shouldn’t be any weather. There should be nothing at all.

  She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone.

  (Gone)x3. The Firth equation.

  He imagined writing it on an old-fashioned green chalkboard. He saw himself small and meaningless, falling away from the green like a tiny remainder, exploding in chalk dust as he hit the floor.

  The echoes died away and Finn heard something different. He opened his eyes and he was home—his living room, his couch.

  Gabi’s hand was on his.

  “Finn? Can I get you anything?” She squeezed his hand. He could feel that, a soft edge—suddenly his skin had a boundary. “We’re going to stay with you, Mom and I. That’s okay, right?”

  There were sounds coming from across the living room, in the kitchen, nearly forgotten sounds that the house would make when someone was cooking. He looked up to see Mrs. Rand at the sink. How he wished it were Mom or Gran.

  Just give me one of them back, he silently pleaded.

  Gabi’s arms were around his neck.

  He cried into her shoulder, burying his face so she wouldn’t see what he looked like raw.

  Chapter 9

  They sat in silence, eating the meal Mrs. Rand had prepared. A loud knock at the door made them all jump. Mrs. Rand got up quietly and looked out the side window.

  She straightened up, took a deep breath, and went to open the door. Finn heard her reluctantly welcome Doc Lovell into a house she didn’t own. From her tone, Finn got the feeling that if they were still at the Rands’ cottage, where she had full authority, the door would have remained shut.

  “Finn?” Mrs. Rand poked her head back into the kitchen. “Are you up to speaking to Dr. Lovell?”

  Finn didn’t feel up to speaking to anyone. But it was going to happen eventually—there wasn’t any point in delaying it. He got up slowly and walked to the living room.

  “Finn, I’m so sorry for your loss. I—I—well, you already know how much I cared for your grandmother.” Doc’s eyes were tinged with red, and he looked like he hadn’t slept or brushed his hair in days. His second floor finally matched his first.

  Looking at him, Finn began to question his own suspicions and Gran’s written warning. Why shouldn’t he trust Doc? He and Gran had been inseparable the last few years. Gran was happy, always laughing and acting like a teenager around him. He was nice enough to Finn, too. Still, Gran had left the note for a reason. And there was something new in Doc’s tone, in the way he looked at Finn: he wanted something. Something he was sure Finn wouldn’t give up easily. The problem was, Finn had no idea what that could be.

  Finn put his hand into his pocket and felt Gran’s note. It was real. It was his tangible proof that he didn’t dream the whole thing.

  “I’m trying to get ahold of your dad,” Doc went on. “I’ve left a message on his cell and at his office at the university. I’m sure he’ll call soon.”

  Finn nodded. He knew Mrs. Rand had been doing the same. Dad often forgot to check his phone when he was working, but he should have called back by now, he should have been back by now. He wasn’t supposed to return till Monday night, but if he had gotten the first message he would have jumped in his car and driven home immediately.

  “Finn, it looks as if your grandmother passed in her sleep from a stroke. We’ll know more of course after the—by next week.”

  Finn heard a rustle behind him in the kitchen, and he knew both Gabi and Mrs. Rand were straining to hear.

  “Have you talked to her this week, Finn?
Had she spoken to you about anything . . . strange?”

  “Strange?”

  “Well, with a stroke there can be early warning signs—confusion, changes in behavior, even . . . delusions.” The last word hung there between them like a worm on a hook.

  He knew.

  Finn saw it in Doc’s eyes. The suspicion, the eagerness, and yes, the smoldering bead of anger under it all. Doc Lovell was angry with him, for what he still didn’t know. Had he seen Finn run away from the house? Did he know what Gran had told him?

  Whatever it was, Finn knew not to take the bait. “I haven’t seen Gran since Wednesday night. She wasn’t sick at all then.” He was a little surprised at how steady his voice sounded.

  Doc’s eyes narrowed.

  “You would know,” Finn added. “You saw her that same night. Didn’t you come over after I left?” Maybe that would unsettle him. Gran and Doc always went to great pains to hide whenever Doc was sleeping over.

  Doc folded his arms defensively. “There was an emergency in Rupert. I didn’t go over this week. I thought you were supposed to spend this whole weekend with her, Finn.” It was less a question than an accusation.

  “Yeah, I was heading over there when Aunt Billie called Mrs. Rand.” Finn wondered if he had left behind any telltale signs that he had stayed over at Gran’s last night. Had he made the bed? He couldn’t remember.

  So many lies bouncing around the room. If lies drifted visible like smoke, he wouldn’t be able to see through the haze. Doc was staring at him, calculating. Still, Finn held his ground.

  He began to think lying was something he could do well after all.

  Mrs. Rand strode into the room, drying her hands on a dishtowel. She positioned herself between the two of them, slinging the towel over her shoulder. It was a declaration of battle. She was at least a foot shorter than Doc, but she seemed to be eye-to-eye with him when she threw her shoulders back like that. Even Gabi kept her distance. She stayed in the kitchen, peeking around the doorframe.

  “I should think you have all you need,” said Mrs. Rand. “Unless you have something useful to report on getting ahold of James?”

  “I do not. I’ve left a message with the library—”

  “That’s interesting, because I called the library as well.”

  Doc eyed her cautiously. “I don’t see why. I told everyone, including you, that I would handle it.”

  “Well, I wondered if it might slip your mind. You are grieving, after all.”

  Doc’s face was turning all shades of red and purple. Finn had the distinct impression that Mrs. Rand knew a lot more about Doc than Doc wanted her to.

  “The thing is, Widener said there wasn’t any appointment for a James Firth. He had not reserved a block of research time. Wouldn’t they have told you the same thing?”

  “Wait! Dad never got to the library? He never had an appointment?”

  Mrs. Rand looked surprised to see Finn still standing there.

  Doc took advantage of her distraction. “It’s kind of you to help out.” He picked up his coat and draped it over his arm. “Though I’m sure you realize that Finn should be with family during a time like this. If James isn’t back by tomorrow, I’ve arranged for Finn to stay with James’s cousins in Albany.”

  “Albany?! No!” Finn stepped forward to protest but Mrs. Rand motioned him back with a gentle touch on his arm.

  “If you somehow have a reason to object to my care, Doctor, I’m sure one of his great-aunts would be happy to stay with him here. I don’t think—”

  “I’m sure you don’t. Beth’s sisters have health problems of their own. We know what’s proper here in Vermont.” Doc smiled slightly at Mrs. Rand. Finn registered the dig: Mrs. Rand was still an outsider, a flatlander. Mrs. Rand’s mouth was a tight line of suppressed rage.

  “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time right now.” With that he swiftly turned and walked out the door. He looked over his shoulder with a grim sort of smile and delivered one more parting shot: “If you do hear anything from James, you’ll let me know, of course.”

  As soon as Doc was gone, Finn yelled, “I’m not going to Albany! I don’t even know my cousins in Albany!”

  “He can’t possibly make Finn go! Can he?” Gabi had given up her refuge in the kitchen and was looking as pained as Finn.

  Mrs. Rand’s look of anger dissipated and was replaced with one of defeat. “I don’t know what he’s capable of doing. Technically, I don’t have any rights to care for you, Finn. We need to get ahold of your father. Can you think of anywhere else he might be?”

  He could be researching somewhere else. He could be looking for Mom.

  He could have just left.

  No, he wouldn’t. Not even this new Dad would do that to him.

  “Maybe it was another library and you heard wrong? Is there a list we can try?”

  “There are two or three he’s been to a lot. I’m absolutely positive he said it was Widener.” As much as they’d clashed lately, Finn wanted Dad back now. Dad wouldn’t let Doc send him off to Albany.

  “Dr. Lovell was content with making everyone think a message was on its way to your dad, when it obviously wasn’t. For some reason, he doesn’t want your dad here.” Mrs. Rand paused and made sure Finn was holding her gaze. “Can you think of any reason why?”

  Gabi gave him a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. Don’t trust anyone. He had no idea if that was supposed to include Mrs. Rand. It seemed wrong to distrust her when she was so obviously concerned for him.

  “I can’t,” he said.

  Mrs. Rand gave him a resigned nod and headed back into the kitchen. He’d been wrong about the lying. It was still hard. It all depended on who you were lying to.

  Chapter 10

  “We can’t tell your mom. She’d never let me hike up that mountain,” Finn said.

  Gabi didn’t look happy; maybe lying wasn’t as easy for her either. Mrs. Rand was on the phone in the kitchen, dialing down the list Finn had given her of Dad’s usual research haunts. Gabi and Finn were planted on the giant sectional sofa. She nestled in the crook with her tablet and he sat against the farthest armrest with his knees up to his chest.

  “Don’t you mean she’d never let us hike it?” Gabi demanded.

  Oh, so that was why she was frowning. “Gabi, I think I should go by myself. You can cover for me.” It made sense. If Doc came looking for him, she could throw him off track, at least for a little while.

  “What?! No!” Gabi stood up, letting the tablet fall to the carpet.

  “I’ve got to go before Doc ships me off to Albany. It’s got to be tomorrow.”

  “There is absolutely no way you get to do this without me,” she said, her hands defiantly on her hips.

  Finn bit back the urge to snap that this wasn’t a game. He had an entire mountain to search for one single tree. It could take days.

  “Listen, I don’t know why he wants me out of town so fast. All I know is Gran said not to trust anyone—”

  “So you’re not going to trust me?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Gabi’s arms dropped to her sides. “Then I’m going with you. Settled.”

  “I don’t want you in danger.”

  “From who? Doc?” Her eyes went wide.

  “No—I don’t know.” Finn wondered if he was being paranoid. How could Doc suddenly be his enemy? It was obvious he loved Gran. And yet . . . “I mean, I do think he’s hiding something.”

  “Yeah, like he didn’t actually call your dad.”

  “Exactly!”

  “That was weird.” Gabi picked up the tablet, placed it back on the sofa and sat down again with a confused look on her face.

  “Your mom doesn’t like him,” Finn remarked. “Why?”

  Gabi shifted slightly and didn’t look Finn in the eye. “Come on, Finn. He’s one of those locals. Referred to Mom as ‘that city gal’ for two years after we moved in. Mom suspects he’s why she’s never been invited
to join any of the town boards. He hasn’t given her any reason to like him.”

  “Yeah,” said Finn. “It does take him a long time to accept flatlanders.”

  Gabi stared at him open-mouthed for a second before she asked, “Well, how long does it take him to accept Puerto Ricans? Because I think that’s his real problem.”

  Now it was Finn’s turn to stare. “Whoa. You think Doc is racist?”

  “He sure wasn’t very welcoming to my mom.”

  Finn had never considered this possiblity. “I just thought he disliked every flatlander.”

  “That’s possible, I suppose. Forget it.”

  Finn doubted he would, nor did he think Gabi could. He trusted Doc even less now.

  “There’s a bit more to why Mom dislikes him so much, though,” Gabi went on. “She told me not to say anything because we couldn’t be sure. Only Mom certainly seems sure, the way she talked to him this morning.”

  Finn was even more shocked. “Gabi, I’ve told you every secret I’ve ever had!”

  “I’m sorry! It wasn’t my secret to tell.” She had pulled a loose thread from the sofa cushion and was winding it around her forefinger. She let it go and it unraveled and fell back onto the tablet’s sleeping screen, a blue squiggle on black ice.

  “Talk.”

  “I saw Doc and your great-aunt Billie together last month in Manchester, when Mom and I stopped by the café across from Northshire. They were arguing in whispers. It looked like the kind of argument you have with a girlfriend, not your girlfriend’s sister.” Gabi scrunched up her nose. “You know, we still need a better term for that.”

  Finn felt the anger rise inside of him. Could Doc have cheated on Gran with her own sister? “Are you sure?”

  “I mean, maybe it was nothing,” she said. “It felt weird to me, that’s all. Mom said she’s also seen them together a lot when she travels to Rupert for theater supplies. Mom thought it was super creepy of him, but she had no proof. She said she wouldn’t put it past your great-aunt Billie either. Everyone in town says she was always jealous of your gran.”

 

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