Photographs in Time

by Terry Segan

  “No. Thank you,” I replied. “I’d like to be alone right now.”

  “Perhaps you should spend the night here. You can drive home in the morning after you’ve had some rest.”

  I reached out and rested my hand on Paolo’s arm. Without another word, he nodded. Getting off the stool, we walked to the front sitting room where I retrieved my purse. There was a spare car key on my ring—the original set now irretrievable. At this thought, tears seeped out of my eyes anew. Wiping them away with my fingers, I couldn’t turn around to say good-by.

  Heading straight for the door, I didn’t wait for Paolo to open it. There were no more words to be said. The door gently closed behind me.

  Slowly I walked to the driver’s side and got in behind the wheel. After adjusting the seat and mirrors, I put the key into the ignition and started the engine. Still devastated, I placed both hands on the wheel and leaned my forehead against it. A few seconds later I took a deep breath, sat up and shifted the car into gear. As I looped around the driveway and back toward the gate, I slowed, waiting for the creaking ironwork to allow my exit.

  Chapter 40

  How I managed to navigate home, remains a mystery. I woke up and found myself still in Jimmy’s parked car on the driveway. The late morning sun was trying to peek through the dark clouds, without much success. Raindrops cascaded onto the windshield.

  As I got out of the car, my legs were stiff from sleeping sitting up all night. Spots of water speckled my shirt as I slowly walked to the front of the house. The damp fabric stuck to my skin.

  Stepping onto the porch, I couldn’t face going inside yet. My body collapsed into the nearest wicker chair, as I set my purse on the table beside it.

  I took a few moments to simply breathe, while staring out toward the ocean. The water churned with white caps from the building storm. Raindrops continued to tap dance on the roof and the edges of the porch, as delicate splatters hit my legs. My eyes tracked a seagull as he drifted on the wind. He soared up and down, barely moving his wings, not in the least bit bothered by the shower.

  Looking around the porch, I thought of Jimmy, as he went down on one knee before me. He’d proposed only yesterday, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. My head turned to the spot where remnants of Francois’ blood stained the wooden planks. My face grimaced as I remembered all the horror we’d witnessed. Did the good outweigh any of it?

  I stood up, bracing for my next steps as I grabbed my purse and walked into the house. Jimmy’s things needed to be cleared out—eventually. An explanation should be formulated in case someone asked about his disappearance. Somehow, I didn’t care what anyone thought.

  Going down the hall to the kitchen, out of habit I went to place my bag on the counter. As I walked across the room, a chair scraped on the tile. Whipping my head toward the table, Mr. Chang stood there.

  “I pray you do not mind, but I helped myself to a cup of tea.”

  The shocked look on my face must have spoken volumes.

  He immediately followed up with, “Perhaps I can offer you a cup of tea. You look very much like you need one. Please, sit.” He gestured to the chair across from him.

  Too worn out to protest, or even answer, I sat down. The kettle simmered on the stove with the steam escaping through the spout. He retrieved a cup from the cupboard, dropped in a bag from the canister on the counter and poured hot water into the cup. Once he’d carefully set the hot brew in front of me, he sat down himself.

  When the shock wore off and I found my voice, I asked, “Mr. Chang, why are you here? If you came to speak with Jimmy, you’re too late. He’s…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

  “No, I have come to speak with you.”

  “What’s left to say? Jimmy is gone. The two remaining Family Slides are useless. The only good is we finally stopped Carney. I hope it was worth it.”

  “I believe so.”

  I looked at him in utter astonishment. Having just told this man his grandson was basically dead, long gone by now, he believed it was all worth it. The cold-hearted bastard! “I’m sorry I can’t share your opinion.” Lifting the tea up to my lips, I carefully sipped. Much better than the whiskey Paolo offered me, the warm liquid cascaded down my throat.

  “We have all lost much because of this process.”

  “That, I can agree with, Mr. Chang. So, tell me, why the visit?”

  With a crinkled brow, he appeared to be debating his response. Already tough to read, the man acted unsure of himself. That never happened in our last encounter.

  “I am misusing the slides.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “You heard me correctly. I am misusing the slides. And as usual, time is almost up. I expected you home hours ago.” His face displayed no emotion with his firmly set jaw and hard eyes. The intentions of his unexpected visit remained unclear to me.

  “How did you get here?”

  “Why do you waste time with questions you already know the answer to? Isn’t it obvious I used one of the special slides?”

  “I suppose so. It’s been an awful 24 hours, so you’ll excuse me if I’m not at the top of my game for this little encounter. After our last meeting, I find it hard to believe you sought me out. You also seem to know what’s happened to Jimmy and why he’s not here. I don’t even want to know how you have that information. Exhaustion is about to consume me, so if you could just cut to the chase, it would be greatly appreciated.”

  “You had so much fight in you last time we met,” Mr. Chang began. “It surprises me to find you so defeated.”

  “Perhaps you should go back a day and join us in our last escapade. Participating in that experience would explain why I am so defeated,” I spat out. Instead of depression, fury was taking over.

  “Good, now you are focused.”

  “What…you…” I glared at him a moment, then realized his plan. Mr. Chang was pulling me back from the edge and forcing me to think clearly. I thought it wouldn’t be possible for a long while, yet he managed that task in a few well-placed sentences. To my surprise, I began to have a smidgen of admiration for this old man.

  “Are you ready to listen to me?” he asked.

  “I suppose so.” While I couldn’t muster a smile, he brought me back enough to focus on what he needed to say.

  “As the remaining member of your family, it is left to me, an elder in this process, to enlighten you.”

  “As usual, you’re talking in riddles, Mr. Chang. I’m aware no other family members remain. Without siblings or cousins, I’m the last generation of Manchesters. Why is that important here?”

  “Because you are the last generation of Manchesters.” He sat up straight in his chair and sipped his tea.

  I tilted my head and squinted my eyes in confusion. His sly grin told me he enjoyed my discomfort.

  “I understand Mr. Fortuno explained to you about the Four Families upon your first meeting.”

  “Yes. He told me the families were down to three these last couple generations, as the British family and all their equipment for the process perished in a fire. All were lost but the youngest child rescued by a servant and placed with relatives.”

  “That is correct—except there were no surviving relatives. The governess took it upon herself to raise the child here in America. She adopted the girl and the family name to perpetuate it. Your mother never married the man you called father, is that not true?”

  “Yes, she was very progressive for her time. What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Did Fortuno tell you the name of the British family?”

  “Well…no…I guess he never did. It didn’t occur to me to ask either.”

  “Your mother never married, so her surname is yours as well, correct?”

  “Yes,” I replied in frustration, as he dragged out his explanation. “Manchester. Our last name is Manchester.”

  “And so is the British family,” Mr. Chang quipped.

  Shock washed across my face as I felt the
color drain. If I followed accurately, I was a descendant of one of the Four Families—the remaining member of the British family. Recovering, I asked, “Why did you wait all these years to step in? My mother deserved an opportunity to participate in this process. Why did you skip a generation?”

  “I did not. Your mother had no interest.”

  “She knew?” I had a hard time believing my mother never told me about our family history. Being adamant about preserving the family name, why hadn’t she become a Photographer?

  “Yes,” Mr. Chang said. “She politely declined my offer to involve herself. Your mother believed that somehow the process got her family killed.”

  “Was she right?” I asked indignantly.

  “No. Francois went to the aftermath of the tragedy. A servant admitted to knocking over a candle and the fire quickly blazed out of control. Nothing more than an accident. However, your mother didn’t believe the story and wanted nothing to do with the process. In honor of her family, she kept the last name intact.”

  “Mr. Chang, I see where you’re going. What does all that matter now? Obviously, you’re telling me I’m the only remaining member of the British faction in this whole mess. But it’s over. All the Family Slides are destroyed. There are no descendants to carry on the process, even if they wanted to, and my precious Jimmy is gone. He sacrificed himself to stop Carney. And here I sit alone. What was it all for?”

  Outside thunder clapped, as if emphasizing my displeasure. The noise made me almost jump out of my seat, while Mr. Chang remained calmly sipping tea. We sat not speaking for a few moments, listening to the rumble of the rain as it pelted the roof and sidewalks outside. The cadence became louder and faster, as the storm let loose its fury.

  Turning to the chair next to him, Mr. Chang retrieved a wooden box. Opening it, he lifted out something wrapped in a green silk scarf.

  “This belongs to you,” he said, handing it across the table.

  Chapter 41

  Taking the bundle from his outstretched hands, I placed it in front of me. Carefully unwrapping the delicate swath of silk, I revealed a slide secured permanently in its holder.

  My jaw dropped in astonishment. I looked from the slide, to Mr. Chang, and back at the slide again.

  “I cannot believe you are finally speechless, Miss Manchester.” A satisfied smile spread across his face. For the first time I detected a note of joy in his expression.

  Not being able to stop myself, I jumped up, hurried around the table and threw my arms around the old man. He tensed, not returning the gesture, but then relaxed.

  “I can bring Jimmy home.”

  “While I do not approve of using the slides for personal gain, consider it a wedding gift.”

  “So, Francois didn’t really smash his Family Slide?”

  “This device is not Francois’. It belongs to your family. While the fire did wipe out everyone but your mother of the Manchesters, the Family Slide was retrieved. It had been kept in a studio in the back of the house where the fire did not reach.”

  “How did you come to have it?” I asked, sitting back down.

  “Francois acquired this legacy before it fell into the wrong hands. He placed it in my care years ago. It has sat in a safe these many years waiting—until now.”

  I picked up the frame and turned it over, examining every inch. Disbelief swept through me like a hot flash. In my hands rested the ability to bring Jimmy home to the present—back to me.

  There was no doubt in my mind of success. If I didn’t achieve finding him the first time, the trip could be repeated as many times as needed. Knowing I descended from the British family, revisiting a location wouldn’t strand me.

  “I need to get ready,” I said carrying the slide toward the hallway.

  “Miss Manchester,” he called.

  Turning around I looked back at the old man.

  “While I want to see my grandson put back into his own timeline, I must reiterate my warning. Using the slides for personal gain may have consequences. While your actions are based on love for Jimmy, it does not guarantee you will go on to live a happy life. You saw what misusing the slides did to Carney.”

  Hesitating at the door, Mr. Chang’s words resonated through my head. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Jimmy got dragged back in time stopping a monster. There has to be a reward for such a selfless act.”

  With a nod, he disappeared. My intuition told me this should be the last time I’d ever see Mr. Chang. Returning my Family Slide must have been an obligation he needed to fulfill. The man had done what he could to help his grandson, and now left the final actions in my hands.

  In my studio, I walked to the back and placed the slide on the table. Depressing the button and speaking clearly, the location appeared on the screen—Elba Island in the Mediterranean. Twirling the buttons for the date and stopping on June 4, 1815, I then set the time for fifteen minutes prior to Jimmy’s and Carney’s arrival. A time span of one-half hour should be enough. Lastly, I activated the device for the one-hour warm-up period.

  Arriving prior to the men gave me an opportunity to check out the area. I hoped by duplicating the exact wording, it would land me in the same spot on the island. If not, and Jimmy couldn’t be found in the 15 minutes after he appeared, I would try again. Not knowing what to expect in this archaic land, it seemed safest to make several short trips. If it required additional journeys, I could get more specific on the location.

  Nothing in my wardrobe would pass as appropriate for the era, so I opted for comfortable clothing. After changing into a pair of jeans and t-shirt, a zip-hooded sweatshirt was added to my ensemble, along with a pair of sneakers. Going back to my closet, I retrieved the locked box that held a loaded pistol with an extra clip. The key was kept in my jewelry box. Not sure of my capability to use the weapon if it became necessary, I hoped the instance wouldn’t arise.

  When they arrived on the island, I prayed Carney would still be stunned from the blow Paolo gave him with the urn. That would allow Jimmy and I to go off on our own until time counted down. Now that we knew how to safely travel together, we could get back here without difficulty.

  The palms of my hands were damp with sweat. Fifty minutes remained. As I wondered how to endure the wait, the door bell rang. It made me nervous as I wasn’t expecting anyone.

  Opening the front door, an elderly woman waited, her hair wet and a bit disheveled from the storm. She smiled, not saying a word. Around her neck, she wore a silver and turquoise necklace. The crescent moon with shooting stars was unmistakable.

  “Dede!” I exclaimed.

  She looked relieved as she threw her arms around me and we embraced.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, Sami, I can’t begin to tell you what a wonderful life Milton and I have enjoyed together.”

  “Is he gone?” I asked in dismay.

  “Oh, no. He’s alive and well. Still painting up a storm.” She radiated with pride while talking about her husband. It had been a good match.

  I sighed with relief. “Please,” I said, realizing we were still standing in the doorway, “come in.”

  Dede entered the house and looked around. “I can’t believe how many years its been since I first stepped through your entryway. Only about a week for you.”

  “It does boggle the mind sometimes. Shall we have tea?”

  “That’s how it all began,” she said reflectively.

  “Yes.” What a relief to have something joyful occupy my time, other than anxious worry.

  “I would love some.”

  We walked to the back of the house and into the kitchen. I relit the burner underneath the kettle, still warm from earlier.

  “It's so good to see you,” I said. “What brings you to Southern California? Is Milton with you?”

  “No, he’s back in Albuquerque. He believes I’m visiting a girlfriend.”

  “I see,” I replied, starting to think this was more than a casual visit. “Technically, you
are. I would like to think we’d become friends in the short time we had together.”

  “Me too. This is difficult for me, Sami, as I don’t know if this is an option.”

  I tilted my head quizzically at her. “You’ve got my attention. Tell me what’s going on in your world.”

  The relief at my welcoming response showed in her bright smile. She was one of the few Betrotheds I’d wished I could have gotten to know better. Dede had a very accepting and compassionate soul.

  “Well, did you receive the mugs I sent you with the family picture?”

  “Yes, thank you. I can’t express my excitement enough at receiving your package. You’re pleased with your life?”

  “Incredibly,” she beamed. “Milton is an amazing man, as well as a loving husband and father. And grandfather too!” She laughed with delight.

  Joining in with her, I chuckled also.

  “It’s my oldest granddaughter, you see,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, more than a little bit concerned.

  “Well, she’s 24-years-old. And divorced.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Actually,” Dede continued, “that’s a good thing. Her ex-husband was verbally and…well…physically abusive.”

  “Oh Dede, I’m so sorry.”

  The tea kettle whistled, and I excused myself to get up and pour the hot water into our cups, each with a bag of Earl Gray. Once I placed them before us, she continued.

  “Well, you see, he’s…he’s stalking her. Her parents, as well as Milton and me, are at our wits’ end. There’s nothing we can do to keep that man away from her. We’ve tried legal action, but it doesn’t stop him. They’ve been divorced for two years. We have no other options.”

  I sat there quietly, realizing what she was about to ask me. Since the ex-husband wasn’t part of this process, it would never occur to him to search beyond the present time.

  “You want me to hide her in time, don’t you?” I asked.

  She sat looking into her tea cup, as if for guidance. Finally, looking beseechingly into my eyes, she asked, “Would you?”