by Terry Segan
“So, Jimmy already told you what happened with Carney and April?”
“He did not need to. I could see her soul when we met. It was clouded. She was not right. And his was black. There was no mistaking it.”
“What do you mean you could see her soul?”
“I cannot explain it. This does not concern you. You should leave.”
I sat there a moment. “If you really wanted me to leave, then why are we in your home having tea? You knew I was coming, didn’t you?”
Again, my questions went unanswered as he continued to sip from his cup.
“You know I won’t leave until you tell me.”
“Or I could wait until you go back to your own time. How many of your twenty-four hours have you used up already?” he asked smiling for the first time. There wasn’t any joy in his expression as he settled back in his chair challenging me.
“You’re right. You could wait for me to simply disappear, but do you think I would have come, if it wasn't crucial? I need your help. We need your help. Carney is taking innocent lives. He has to be stopped.”
“He is not my problem. I dispense the slides, nothing more. That is my role!”
This was getting me nowhere fast. As much as it broke my heart, I had to touch his inner being. Only then might he feel compelled to share what he knew. God forgive me! “He may have been involved in your son’s death as well.”
The old man slammed his teacup on the table and sat up straight in his chair. This was either new information, or he was shocked I would use such a tactic. I didn’t care. One way or another he needed to talk to me.
“Get out!” His booming voice felt like a slap in the face. Almost regretting what I did, I knew I had found the chink in his armor.
“We can’t change that past,” I said, “but you can help me change the future. Please, Mr. Chang,” I pleaded, “tell me how to stop Carney.”
It was a standoff. One I hoped to win. The struggle on his face as he crinkled his forehead and set his jaw was clear. He knew more, much more. But why wouldn’t he share what he knew?
“You must trap him in time.”
“How?”
“There is another I need to speak with first. It will be breaking more rules, but you don’t seem averse to doing that,” he said in a condescending voice.
For the first time, I found myself smiling at the old man. While his tone was harsh, he seemed to be softening. Sensing an opening, I pressed on.
“Fair enough. Do whatever you need to help us stop that man. You must know how Carney was able to hop through time six months prior, when he first interfered with April’s life. How was that possible?”
“I believe you already know.”
“Perhaps. My suspicions suggest he got hold of a special slide that allowed him to set the date and location to whenever he wanted.”
“See? You do not need me for answers.”
“How did he know such a thing existed? Are his slides different from the ones given to Jimmy?”
He fell silent as if evaluating how much to tell me. With a sigh, he said, “The proprietor of the Golden Dragon overstepped his bounds. He has been relieved of his role—too late to prevent this chain of events.”
“What did he do?”
“He allowed Carney to have one of the emergency slides that enabled him to set any time and place in history he chose. These slides are rare and only entrusted to worthy distributors. The character of that proprietor was misjudged.”
“Are there more of those slides?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Carney must have found a supply of them. He had to have more than one to be wreaking this kind of devastation. He seems to be jumping through time at will. That would require more than one slide.”
“It would not be a breach to tell you there are special proprietors selected to distribute such slides. They are to give no more than two to any one Collector, and only in special circumstances.”
“Do you think Carney found out which proprietors have them and has been collecting them?”
“No, I do not.”
“What do you mean?” I asked again, frustrated at the tiny bits of information he chose to dole out.
“Enough. I have already told you too much. You need to leave.”
I sat there deciding whether all my leverage was used up. There was still more to know. The shadows outside the kitchen window grew as dusk began to fall.
“You haven’t told me how to trap Carney in time. Or what that even means.”
“You will go now,” he said firmly.
“I’ll show you to the door.” We both looked over to see Jimmy standing in the doorway. Not knowing how long he’d been listening, I hoped he hadn’t overheard too much. “I closed up the shop, Grandfather,” he added.
Mr. Chang nodded as he stood, waiting for me to do the same. Our meeting seemed to be over for today.
Rising as well, I nudged him one more time. “How will I know what to do? You haven’t told me.”
“Come back tomorrow morning,” was all he said. He turned around and walked out the other door leading from the kitchen.
“This way,” Jimmy said, his voice firm. “You’ve upset my grandfather enough.”
I strode past him toward the stairway in the living room with him behind me. It hurt to hear such hostility from the man who would later share my life. Going through the store room and the shop, I stopped at the front door and waited for Jimmy to unlock it. He reached over and slid open the bolt. I didn’t wait for him to open the door for me.
Outside, I turned to him, “I’ll be at the Hyatt by Fisherman’s Wharf if your grandfather is willing to discuss more tonight.”
His response was the door slamming in my face. Turning and setting off at a brisk pace to a busy intersection, I flagged down a taxi to take me to the hotel. The Wharf was always a favorite of mine in San Francisco. With the calm lapping of the ocean, it would be a good place to review everything Mr. Chang had divulged.
Chapter 16
As I checked into the room, my stomach grumbled. Going a whole day with only coffee and toast wasn’t cutting it for me. I found a small café near the Wharf serving delicious clam chowder and a decent chardonnay.
Seated at a window overlooking the harbor, I sifted through everything Mr. Chang told me. The questions he answered led to more questions. By the time I paid the bill, my mind had drifted to the present time, too. Jimmy would be at my house by now and have found the note. He would also be aware of the new timeline since his younger self was present when I spoke with his grandfather today, in 1979. Hoping Jimmy wasn’t too angry, I wandered back to the hotel.
Fatigue overcame me in my hotel room. Even my apprehension about tomorrow and whether Mr. Chang would divulge anything useful disappeared as soon as I lay my head on the pillow.
A loud ringing jolted me out of a deep sleep. It took a few seconds for me to realize it was the phone on the night stand. The bedside clock read 2:13 a.m.
“Hello,” I stuttered, still a bit groggy.
“This is the front desk. I’m sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, ma’am. There is a Jimmy Chang down here insisting he see you. He says it’s an emergency. If you would like, we can have security escort him out…”
“No!” I yelled into the phone. Forcing myself to calm down, I controlled my voice, “No, that won’t be necessary. Please tell Mr. Chang I’ll be right down.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. Have a good evening.”
Which Jimmy was it? Past or present? Possibly my current Jimmy had secured a special slide and travelled here. I didn't think the Jimmy from this era would do me harm, but I felt safer meeting downstairs.
My stomach twisted into knots fearing I might get off the elevator to be greeted by the Jimmy from my own time. Would he be angry? Concerned? Not to mention the huge risk if he came back to San Francisco now. Running into yourself was never a good idea.
Dressing
quickly, I ran a comb through my hair and brushed my teeth then grabbed my purse on the way out the door.
I stepped into the elevator and hit the Lobby button. The metal frame creaked in a symphony of moans as it inched downward. While the floor indicator dinged with every passing level, almost deafening in the confined space, I took deep breaths and thought about what to say if it was my present Jimmy.
The doors slid open to reveal young Jimmy with his arms crossed and tapping his foot. His glare bored into me. Wearing denim jeans and a gray, long-sleeved t-shirt, he looked more like the young man I would meet in about four years. I hoped that meeting would still happen after this encounter.
“Grandfather is missing,” he spat. “What did you say to him?”
I stood motionless not knowing how to respond. The elevator doors started to close, and I shot my hand out to stop them, then stepped into the lobby. “What do you mean he’s missing?”
“After you went out the front door of the shop, I went back upstairs to his apartment. He was gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes, gone. As in not home!”
Obviously, the apartment had a private entrance. Mr. Chang must’ve used it while Jimmy had gone downstairs. Finding my voice again, “I have no idea where he went.”
Looking up, the clerk behind the front desk watched us. A wandering security guard kept glancing our way. His steady footsteps, echoing through the cavernous entryway, hesitated each time Jimmy spoke. Deciding this conversation was best held somewhere more private, I walked to a grouping of couches and chairs in a far corner of the lobby. Jimmy followed.
“Tell me what you talked about. I heard you mention Carney’s name. Do you know where that bastard is? Are you his new Photographer?”
The shock on my face must have startled him. He was obviously about to fire off more questions, but simply closed his mouth. It occurred to me that this might have been the turning point for Jimmy. My interacting with him here in 1979 may have been what happened before. Because of this visit, he didn’t tell me the truth about the Frenchman and his friendship with Carney. It may have been an attempt to change the future after he met me and realized I was his Photographer. History repeated itself anyway; I came back and met him in this decade.
My next words might change our future. They needed to be chosen carefully. “No, I’m not Carney’s Photographer.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, but my grandfather went missing right after you left. Please, tell me what you talked about.”
“Jimmy, you’ve already begun your interviews with the Suitors. You aren’t naïve to this process. You also know I can’t tell you why I’m here. It could make things worse.”
“What if it could make things better? It’s obvious you’re here to change something. How do you know I’m not the one that can do it? My grandfather didn’t provide enough answers to satisfy you, did he? Maybe I’m really the one you’ve come to see.”
That never occurred to me. This time was after Carney inadvertently killed April. That couldn’t be changed. But what if the Jimmy now was able to find Carney and stop him before he started his killing spree?
This line of thought didn’t feel right. Giving Jimmy information from the future could put him at risk. Not a chance worth taking. I needed to find out from Mr. Chang how to trap Carney in time. It was up to me to stop him. I felt it in my heart.
“The only thing I can tell you is your grandfather said he would have to consult with someone else. Maybe that’s where he is now.”
Jimmy mulled that over. “I don’t know who that would be. In the years since Grandfather told me about his role, he’s never mentioned anyone else he was involved with.”
“Do you think he meant another distributor? He knew of the ones at the Purple Lotus and the Golden Dragon in New York. Perhaps he knows one locally?” It wasn’t much to go on, but I couldn’t tell him anything of future events. It was too risky. Since he’d already lost track of Carney, there was no need to involve him further.
“It seems we’ve both reached a dead end.” The young man sank down onto one of the couches and expelled an exasperated sigh.
I gently perched on the cushion next to him. He was right. If Mr. Chang was missing, then I wouldn’t get any more information. A thought struck me, “Does he ever use the slides? I mean, how does he get a new supply when needed?”
“He’s never told me. Every time I’ve asked, he says I don’t need to know. Grandfather also said it’s safer for me to stick with my role and not involve myself further.”
I put my hand gently on his shoulder. “When he said that, do you think he was referring to your father’s murder?”
This took him by surprise as he whipped his head around to look at me. “Why would you say that? He was murdered in an attempted robbery. For whatever reason, the burglar was startled or interrupted and took off before stealing anything. Do you know more?”
“No.” That was the truth and my attempt at putting together more pieces of this puzzle. “You’re right it’s probably unrelated.”
His eyes narrowed. I knew he didn’t believe me. I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. No use pursuing that point with nothing else to go on.
“I’m sorry to have woken you.” More of the Jimmy I would come to love was showing through. Right now, he remained a tormented young man trying to make sense of the family business.
“Don’t worry about it. I hope your grandfather is all right. Can I come by in the morning? There are more questions only he would have answers to.”
Thinking this over, Jimmy asked, “Would it stop you if my answer was no?”
I gave him a lopsided smile.
“I didn’t think so. When are your twenty-four hours up?”
“At 10:45 tomorrow morning.” No sense hiding that point.
“Come by when the shop opens.” With a slight nod, he stood and walked away.
I watched as he strode through the front door of the lobby before I walked over to the elevator.
Back in my room, I lay down thinking sleep would elude me. Despite being consumed with thoughts of whether Mr. Chang would reappear and share any additional information, I drifted off. I woke to the ringing of the bedside phone at 7:00 a.m.—my wake-up call.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and sat on the balcony drinking my morning coffee. The misty ocean air felt good; it’s dampness on my skin refreshing. Since the Jade Pagoda didn’t open until 9:00 a.m., I checked out of the hotel and walked down to the Wharf. I sat on a bench by the pier, munching on a freshly baked croissant from a nearby bakery and enjoyed the harbor life.
Seagulls drifted over the white-capped water and landed with grace on the pylons. Their raucous calls echoed across the harbor. Boats with their sails securely tied down for the night, bobbed up and down as waves slapped the sides. What would it be like to sail away without a thought of anything beyond the present day?
At 8:45 a.m., I wandered back to the street and caught a cab to the Jade Pagoda. It was fifteen minutes past opening time. The door was locked, and the Closed sign still displayed in the window. I knocked gently, then louder. Minutes passed. Nobody answered. I peered through the dirty windows the best I could. The lights were out. I couldn’t see anyone.
I thought of finding the private entry to the apartment. Assuming it was located on the side or back, I tried to go around the building. A locked iron gate blocked the narrow alleyway between the Jade Pagoda and the building next door. I jiggled the gate, scaring a gray cat. It jumped off a trash can, sending the lid to clatter on the ground.
Frustrated, I went back to the front door and peered in. Still no movement. I knocked again with no luck. My time here was almost up.
Since Mr. Chang had been missing last night, I hoped he was checking with his other source and would tell me what I needed to know this morning. Those possibilities faded as my precious minutes ticked away.
Across the street,
I grabbed a cup of tea at a small counter service cafe and sat outside watching the shop. My frustration mounted as I grasped the paper cup too tightly and splashed hot tea on my fingers. At 10:40 a.m. the light from the back room came on in the Jade Pagoda. Abandoning my tea, I bolted across the street. I pounded on the door and looked through the glass. Five minutes. Only five minutes before I had to return to my present time.
Mr. Chang walked towards me. My hands balled into anxious fists at his lack of urgency. Then he turned as someone came through the beaded doorway from the store-room. I couldn’t clearly see who. It wasn’t Jimmy. The person appeared shorter than Mr. Chang. The dimness of the shop hindered my vision. A flash of white shirt was all I could see.
Frantically, I knocked again. He had to let me in. One more minute! Mr. Chang looked at me again, then behind him. Turning away, he walked toward the stranger.
My fist swung to knock against a glass door that was no longer there. I almost fell over. Catching the top of the dresser to steady myself, I put both hands flat on the surface and leaned over.
“Welcome back, Mademoiselle,” said a voice behind me.
Chapter 17
My body tensed as panic filled me. I spun around; a stranger sat on my bed. I looked toward the door.
“Do not be alarmed, Mademoiselle. I will not harm you.”
Though he spoke perfect English, his voice had a slight foreign accent. Looking to be about a decade older than myself, he wore khaki pants. The crispness of his white long-sleeved shirt suggested he wasn’t some common hoodlum.
Leaning back against the dresser, I asked the obvious question. “Who are you?”