by Jill Cooper
I don’t know what to say to take it back. Don’t think I can.
Can’t even go back and fix it anymore.
Mom’s mouth falls open. “I know you’re going through this horrible thing, Lara that no one can understand, but that doesn’t give you the right to talk to me that way. I thought I was doing the right thing by you. I thought your father—.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.” My lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes are still hurt, but her face softens as she strokes my cheek. “Oh, baby. I know. It’s alright. You’ve been through so much.”
But it doesn’t change what I said. Doesn’t take away her pain. An apology can’t fix broken, if it did, my life would have been put back together a long time ago.
Mom hugs me and sees me to my room. “I’ll be here tonight if you need me.”
She’s talking about my headaches, my nightmares. Or night terrors as the shrink call them. We kiss goodnight and I feel like a heel for what I’ve done. What I’ve said. Emotions were bubbling to the surface I thought I’d dealt with a long time ago.
Sighing, I throw myself down on the bed, but I’m too wound up to sleep. Rolling over on my pillow, I stare past my nightstand and out the window. The stars twinkle like little beads in the night sky. It’s comforting to feel as if there’s a plan in the universe, as if someone out there cares.
That somehow everything that is happening to me has a reason, a purpose.
But is there a plan? Or is chaos and chance going to rule my life forever?
****
With time, I drift into a restless sleep.
I know it’s a dream, but it claims my heart. I’m back at Rewind.
I’m back in the cage, alone. The orderlies and guards are gone. I swing my legs over the side of the cot like bed and walk toward the door. It swings open even before I touch it.
“Hello?” Gingerly I step outside the cage. I expect the alarms to sound, but they don’t. So I continue my trek through the room and out into the hallway. Through the corridor, I see Rex.
He’s walking away and I sprint to catch up to him. “Rex, wait!” Wide-eyed horror is on his face as he glances back at me and his steps speed up, but I corner him as we reach the elevator.
“Stay back!” Rex spreads his arms wide as if to warn me off.
“I just want to…” I don’t know what I want to do, or why I want to talk to him at all.
Blood trickles down his forehead. His fingers wipe it away as it reaches his eyes. “Oh that’s right,” his British voice drones on, “you killed me.”
“I…you left me no choice.”
“Really? I made you pull the trigger?” Rex’s eyes narrow.
“You were never going to let me go,” I whisper and with a clap of thunder he’s gone and my vision darkens, until it is broken. Dissolves into pixels and the room floats. It is as if I’m trapped in a kaleidoscope, everything around me spins. Colors meet and slowly things snap into place.
A desk. Then two. A few swivel chairs. And then they are filled with bodies.
The name plate on the desk says it belongs to Detective Mahoney. A police station. But everything around me looks different. Out the window, I can see the Boston skyline, but there are too many skyscrapers. , It’s not right.
Everything about this place is wrong. There are no laptops or computers at the desks. Instead, images and displays float in mid-air. The information just materializes as if it’s a hologram. It’s almost as if I’m in the future.
No longer in my pajamas, I’m dressed casually in a pair of skinny jeans and boots. Hands materialize on my arms, squeezing me as if they fear I’ll try to escape. Suddenly, as if someone has flipped a switch, sunlight shines through the windows.
Everything comes to life around me; it’s as if it’s a play after the director has screamed action. Detective Mahoney slides his chair back and stands to greet me. “Tell us your name and we can look you up. See who you are. Read your past and let you go.”
I shake my head and refuse to tell him my name. Why doesn’t he know who I am? Has he been living in a bubble this whole time?
Mahoney squeezes his lips together. “Take her to holding then. Until she talks, she’s not going anywhere.”
“You’re making a mistake,” I say it even though I don’t understand why. I don’t know what’s going on, but part of me seems to understand. Dreams are like that sometimes.
The police officer behind me shoves me down the hall. On the wall, the news feed scrolls by in thin air. It displays the date in the corner and vomit rises in my throat.
It’s seventy years in the future.
I snap awake in the throes of a migraine. My neck is stiff and my temples throb. My forehead is wet with sweat and my vision is impaired by flashes of light. Grunting I crawl from bed and land on the floor. I pull myself along the carpet, but the pain grows more intense with each passing second. If I could just get to some pain medicine,
“Mom,” I croak out and I must have screamed louder than I thought because she’s there, rolling me over into her arms.
“Sweetheart, you okay?” Mom strokes my hair and puts her palm against my cheek to check for a fever. “You’re burning up. Lara, what happened?”
I don’t say what I think happened because it was just a dream. Just a stressed-out dream. The alternative is too big, too raw.
5: Present: Lara
The morning brings breakfast and I can’t bring myself to eat much, except toast with jam. Mom loads up my coffee with cream and sugar just the way I like it. The headache is gone, everything is back to normal, and I’m crushed by the twins. They each try to sit on my lap at the same time.
It’s getting harder because they keep getting bigger. Growing up. Just the way they are supposed to. I’m happy for the distraction of their hugs and kisses. I love them. Part of me is happy I won’t be leaving them, but another part of me is sinking because I don’t know what the future will bring.
Over breakfast, we color. “I love pretty pinks in my rainbows,” Molly says and the sweetness of her voices lights me up. I stroke back her hair and kiss her cheek.
“I like ninja turtles. I’m giving this one a sword.” Mike says with a deep scowl as he concentrates. It’s hard work.
“That’s a ripped looking turtle.”
Molly scowls. “Ninjas aren’t supposed to use swords.”
“Sure they can,” Mike argues.
“They’re supposed to use those shooting star things.” Molly’s lips draw together in anger.
Mike rolls his eyes. “They have swords too, Molly!”
I can tell by the look on their faces it’s about to heat up.
Mom intervenes by handing them their backpacks. “You’ll be late for the bus, kids. You can work on these tonight with Lara. Okay?”
“Okaaay.” Their little voices drone on. I kiss each of their cheeks and ruffle their hair.
Mom sees them to the bus stop and I busy myself with taking the plates to the dishwasher. Once it’s loaded, I drain my coffee mug and stick it on the top rack. The small television in the kitchen is on but muted. Just the news. Something about a building fire downtown. An electrical problem.
I need a distraction, but that’s not the one I’m looking for.
After a few minutes, I head into the living room and collect my things. When Mom comes back in, I’m relieved to see her. “Kids get on the bus okay?”
Mom nods. “They’ll be fine. I’m going to pick them up today after school. I talked to Jax this morning and he said if you’re free, he’s going to take you for some fro-yo. If you want to go.”
Fro-yo. I sit on the back of the sofa and grin as if it’s Christmas. “I’d love that.”
“He’ll pick you up from school then. I’ll let him know. See, I can talk to him like we’re adults.”
Pain registers on her face again and I feel like a heel. “Mom, about last night…”
“Don’t.” Mom sits beside me and pats my knee. “It was l
ate, you had a bad night. Bad few days. I know how upset those hearings make you.”
“I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Mom’s lips draw together in a straight line and she plays with my curls. “One day it’ll get easier. But what you said, part of it was true. I’m not perfect. I know that, but I’m trying. We’re all trying. Knowing that our lives were so different before? It’s not easy for any of us.”
“Things aren’t easy, but I’m glad you’re here, Mom.” I hug her. It wasn’t always so easy for me to say what I feel, but it’s getting easier. I’m getting used to having a mother.
She squeezes me tight with a pat of her hand on my back. “I need to get to work, but tonight we can do something fun. Monopoly?”
The twin’s favorite game. I nod. “Sure. What’s a little more insult to injury.”
“Lara…” Mom’s voice warns.
“What? It’s not my fault that Mikey is a property shark.” I stand too fast and a sharp stabbing pain hits the front lobe of my skull. I try to mask it with a quick squint, but Mom grabs my arm and I sit back down without meaning to.
“Maybe you should stay home today. I’ll call your dad and he can come over…”
“No.” I rub my skull and breathe a sigh of relief as the pain lifts like a cold day’s morning fog. “It’s gone. I feel better. I should go to school. Donovan will be here soon.”
Mom is silent and I know she thinks I’m making the wrong choice. But I pick up my backpack and swing it over my shoulder.
“Everything will be fine, Lara. It’ll work out. Soon you’ll be graduated from high school. You’ll be able to go anywhere you want. Do anything you want.”
“Do you really believe that?” I ask in a low voice and I can’t bring myself to look at her. “Do you really think the government will let me go?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she just hugs me and kisses the top of my head. I’m glad to have her. I’m happy to know my mom but was it worth all the sacrifice? Was it worth everything else?
I don’t know the answer to that question. For now, I enjoy being in her arms, her smell, and just having a mom.
Before Donovan gets there, Mom is gone. Off to the research lab where she works in Boston as a mere technician. It’s been hard for her, humbling, but I’m glad she’s out of Rewind and not rotting away in prison for breaking the law and for ethical violations.
Stepping outside, I trot down the steps and enjoy a gust of a springtime wind. Outside everything smells fresh and new, like a morning rain.
Donovan’s Porsche pulls up with the top down. He’s in his favorite yellow polo and sunglasses. No matter what we’re going through, he always manages to look so cool. I wish I could be like that; he makes everything look so effortless.
I pull myself into the car and into his arms. One hand is still on the steering wheel as his other, goes against my neck to pull me in for a kiss.
Such a little thing like our lips touching is enough to lift the weight of depression from my heart. I lean against him as the car idles and pull the sunglasses from his face. His bright eyes are just what I need to perk me up. “There they are.”
He gives me a quizzical scowl.
“My favorite baby blues.”
Donovan grins. “At least someone still likes me.”
My heart is pelted with pain. All my drama is so public, on display, but Donovan’s is so much more muted. Doesn’t mean it’s not real. He’s lost his Mom and his home. Most of the guys he palled around with don’t bother with him anymore.
Sure, I’m the one who is government owned but doesn’t mean Donovan’s struggles are any less painful than mine. I stroke the back of his head and we hold each other, enjoying the silence and the comfort. But it can’t last forever; eventually Donovan breaks the silence with a murmur against my cheek. “Rough night?”
“The roughest,” I admit. “Weird dreams. Headaches. How much longer can I hold it together?”
“As long as you have to, Montgomery. Don’t turn into a defeatist on me. We’ll figure it out.”
The determination in his eye gives me a strength I didn’t have before. “I thought we’d ride off into the sunset. However much longer we have together, months, years, decades, I thought at least we’d be happy.”
“So we’ll be happy here. Now. We’ll make it work, no matter where we are. Don’t count us out yet, Lara. Promise me.” Donovan studies my eyes and I drown in his. “Promise me.” His voice is softer, urging.
“I promise.” One last time I fold into him before it’s time to drive away.
Can’t be late for school. There are classes to attend and tests to take. It feels so stupid, so mundane after everything, but it’s normal. I’ve been striving for normal.
But can you really go back? Can you really be normal again?
For me, the answer is always the same. No.
****
Out of everything, I’ve gone through; being in school makes me feel the most detached. The jocks talking about the big game. The girls fawning over the latest fashions. The emmo kids doing their best not to care about anything except the color black. Everything that is unimportant is important.
I’m not the same girl I once was. I’m not the rough and poor Lara Crane who was desperate to be accepted. And I’m not Lara Montgomery, the trendy rich girl with all the latest clothes, purses, and the exceptional boyfriend.
I’m stuck in the middle, between them but neither. I’m worried about what happens if time travel becomes unregulated and how that will corrupt the government. . It makes fashion and all the rest, not matter so much. Studying is nearly impossible and caring about grades? I can only care because my parents ride me.
They try to make everything normal, but nothing is.
Donovan and I walk the halls hand in hand. We’re surrounded by the pretty girls. Perfect hair, makeup, and I practically just rolled out of bed. In my skinny jeans and form fitted shirt, I look okay but I paired it with an old battered hoodie. I’m in sneakers instead of boots because of my nightmares and the only makeup I’m wearing is lip-gloss.
Not because I want to, but I want to put on a façade. Pretend I’m normal. Pretend everything is okay when nothing is.
I want to fade. Hide.
As I turn to my locker, I can tell by the way Donovan leans against it and studies me that he knows. His eyes are always undressing my layers. I love how well he knows me, supports me, but sometimes I wish I could hide. Even from him.
I’m desperate to be away from the prying eyes. All of them. Yet everywhere I go, there they are. Old friends, teachers, police, government.
Everywhere.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Donovan asks.
“You deserve better.” When I say it, he shakes his head. “You do. I’m barely holding myself together. I’m rumpled and a mess. You could have any girl in school you want.”
“You’re the only one I want, Montgomery.” Donovan takes me by the waist and pulls me in. “I thought you knew that.”
I kiss him because I can’t help myself. He’s my safe haven. “Doesn’t mean you should. No one deserves all this baggage.”
“Far as baggage goes, yours is pretty cute. And not your fault.” His eyes are level. Studious. “What happened to you, what that monster Rex did to you; none of it is your fault.”
Except time travel is my fault. Everything that led me to Rex and Rewind, I put into action. I just couldn’t see where it would lead me. That’s exactly what I fear is I happening to the government and Rewind right now; they have no idea where this will lead.
But instead of saying all that, we kiss until the bell rings. Hand in hand, we walk toward our science class.
Maybe I don’t deserve Donovan James, but I’m proud to hold onto to him.
To have him, even if everyone around us at school thinks we’re a pair of freaks.
*****
Donovan walks me to my next class. Under one arm, he carries my books, a
nd the other drapes around my shoulders. I might be the freak on the news that no one wants to socialize with, but when I’m with him, it doesn’t matter.
He doesn’t ask why I’ve been so quiet or what I’m thinking about. Instead, as the bell rings he kisses my nose. “I’ll call you tonight after you get back from your fro-yo date with Jax.”
“I look forward to it.” Why can’t I remember mentioning it to him? When did I tell him I was seeing Jax? At lunch? In the car?
“Not as much as I am.” He takes my hand and kisses it. A real gentleman, but I can’t stop worrying as I slink inside the room.
I take my seat and find a pencil at the bottom of my bag. I should just ask Donovan when I told him, but I don’t want to worry him. If he thought, there was one more thing wrong with me maybe that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. And I like Donovan just the way he is. Strong. Protective.
Mine.
But none of that stops the pain from coming. I can feel it racing in like an out of control car colliding with my brain. I squint and grip the edge of my desk as I ride the wave. But it’s more like a tsunami. A raging storm I can’t hide from.
My vision goes black, and then shining lights of color interrupt the darkness.
There are no voices. No sounds. It’s just me in this black hole of space until suddenly it’s gone. It zips closed and it’s as if my mind travels at warp speed, slamming back into my body.
Only I’m no longer in the classroom.
I’m in a car.
6: Present: Lara
There’s a towering bowl of frozen yogurt in my hand, covered in a mountain of sprinkles and enough candy to give Willy Wonka a toothache. Beside me Jax drives, his hand relaxed on the steering wheel, but I shouldn’t be here.
I should still be in school.
“This detective,” Jax starts, as if a silence has been lingering between us, “you think he means trouble?”