Photographs in Time

by Terry Segan

  “No, no, she’ll be all right,” Jimmy said. “I think she needs some fresh air.”

  I looked up into his eyes. “Yes, fresh air is a good idea,” I said, starting to recover. The reality of this way of life came full circle and slammed into me.

  Jimmy helped me to my feet. “Don’t worry, our lives have been so hectic lately. It’s no wonder all this is catching up to her,” he said, helping to support my weight with his strong arm. Whispering into my ear, he added, “Don’t say anything.”

  “Well, if you’re sure she’s okay,” Doug said.

  “Yes,” Jimmy assured him as he led me out of the studio and down the hall to the entryway. “I think we all need some time on our own. You two discuss what you’ve learned and decide how you want to proceed. How about we return tomorrow at 9:00?”

  “Sounds good,” Cecily said, still concerned. “Sami, you’ll be okay?”

  “Oh, yes,” I stuttered, starting to recover. “I’ll be fine. I think the whirlwind of the last few days, and especially today, is catching up to me. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Cecily hugged both Jimmy then me before we boarded the elevator. Doug waved, then wrapped his arm around his wife.

  Once the doors closed, I nearly crumpled to the floor, but Jimmy managed to keep me on my feet.

  At ground level we exited the elevator, ignoring the security guard’s offer to hail a cab for us. It was a different man on duty than when we entered, obviously one that was open-minded and disregarded any racial opinions.

  Walking out to the sidewalk, Jimmy flagged down a cab. I noticed he had grabbed my backpack and carried it over one shoulder. He told the driver to take us to the Plaza Hotel on 5th Avenue and Central Park South.

  “Are you okay,” Jimmy asked during our cab ride.

  “Yes, but did you hear the name they said? Their neighbors are Carney and his parents. How does this happen?”

  Jimmy sat there holding me. “It’ll be okay. Just relax, sweetie. Our goal is to get Paolo, Jr.’s, slides delivered. I believe we’ll accomplish that.”

  I leaned back taking deep breaths.

  Chapter 60

  Once checked into the hotel and up in our room, Jimmy ordered a light meal and bottle of wine from room service. All thoughts of enjoying the city and having a nice dinner out were erased.

  “I thought you told me Carney grew up in San Francisco, close to your neighborhood?”

  “He did mention moving there as a small boy. The family must have started here in New York City. I never questioned him much about his upbringing,” Jimmy said.

  I sat in the window looking out at the streets below. As much as I wanted to block out this new information, I couldn’t help but view this as an opportunity. It wasn’t a coincidence, the way everything happened. What to do about it though?

  Turning away from the window, I shared with Jimmy the story Cecily told me of how Doug saved toddler Carney from falling to his death.

  As he digested the story, there was a knock on the door. We froze.

  Laughing to lighten the mood, Jimmy said, “I forgot I ordered room service. Back in a minute.”

  I breathed out, releasing some tension. Focusing back on the city below, I heard Jimmy letting in the bellman. The wheels of the delivery cart squeaked as he eased it into the room.

  “Thank you, sir,” a young male voice said—Jimmy must have tipped him. “Will there be anything else?”

  “No thanks, we’re good.”

  Alone again, Jimmy came over and grabbed my hand. He raised it to his lips and kissed the back.

  “You’re my hero, you know.”

  “Just keep reminding me,” he said with a laugh.

  “How did things go with Doug. Do you think he’s interested?”

  “He was a little hard to read. I believe he’ll agree to it, more so to indulge his young bride. He truly is head over heels for Cecily.”

  “If his heart isn’t in the process, it won’t work,” I pointed out.

  “True enough. He doesn’t strike me as someone that takes on a responsibility lightly. If he decides to do this, he’ll be all in with no hesitation. You have a good feeling about Cecily, don’t you?”

  “Yes. No doubt in my mind she wants to take on those thirty matches and will devote her soul to making sure they’re all a good fit.”

  Jimmy stood up and led me by the hand to the small dining table by the service cart. “Now, my dear, no more thoughts of the process for at least an hour. We have a wonderful bottle of Cabernet, accompanied by lobster bisque, a house salad with broiled chicken, and I even indulged in dessert.”

  “You ordered tiramisu, didn’t you?” My excitement was clear.

  “I did indeed.”

  “I love you,” I said kissing him before sitting down.

  For the next hour and a half, we enjoyed a delicious meal with a wine no longer available in our current time. While dinner out on the town would have be fun, this was really what we both needed—an intimate evening together with no interruptions from outsiders. We were in our own bubble of time. It didn’t matter what year we were in, this was our time.

  Once finished with the meal and the cart pushed into the hallway, we decided to venture out for a walk down Fifth Avenue. New York City in the 1950’s was a wonderful place to stroll on clean streets.

  That night I slept like a stone and awoke refreshed at 6:00, finding Jimmy already up with a hot carafe of coffee waiting for me. There was a small bottle of Irish Cream to accompany our brew.

  Enjoying our spiked coffee with a view of the city, it was the perfect morning. The sun shone as the bustle of rush hour took place on the streets below. After showering and getting dressed, we lounged around until it was time to head back to Doug and Cecily’s apartment.

  The same guard that worked last night when we arrived, monitored the podium. “Visiting the Pendry’s?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Jimmy said.

  After announcing our arrival, he gestured toward the elevator. “Sir, Ma’am, please go on up.” He acknowledged both Jimmy and me with equal respect this time. I wondered about his change of heart, but not enough to inquire.

  Both Cecily and Doug greeted us as the elevator doors slid open. This encouraged me that they were anxious to accept the opportunity presented to them.

  “Please, come in,” Doug said, as he led us into the living room. We sat in the same cozy seating area as yesterday. The box of slides resided on the coffee table between us. The couple must have been looking through them, as they were no longer inside the backpack.

  “So,” Jimmy began, “what do you think?”

  Doug glanced at Cecily, who nodded at him with a smile. Looking back at us, he said, “We accept.” With that he broke out into a big grin himself.

  I jumped up and walked around the coffee table to hug Cecily. “I knew you would,” I said, engulfing her in a warm embrace. She returned the squeeze with just as much zeal.

  “You’re both in agreement?” Jimmy asked.

  “We are!” stated Cecily.

  “Well then,” Jimmy said, “I guess our work here is done. Do you have any more questions?”

  The two of them sat there. Doug spoke up, “I think you’ve answered everything. Will we see you again?”

  “No,” Jimmy said. “The only connection I can offer you is a local proprietor that originally gave me my slides. Despite going there in the mid-1970’s, Mr. Lin began his shop in the 1940’s. It’s in Chinatown called the Purple Lotus. Only go there if you run into a situation for which you need guidance. He should be able to answer any questions.”

  “We understand,” said Doug.

  We spent the remainder of the morning chatting. When we entered Cecily’s studio to admire her artwork one more time, we all had another surprise. Lining the walls, amongst her own handy work, were thirty portraits of men in different eras before the 1950’s.

  “Where did those come from?” Cecily asked in awe.

  “My guess,” answ
ered Jimmy, “was they appeared when you accepted the slides. You see, once I met Sami and she agreed to be my Photographer, the portraits appeared in the room she now uses as her studio. Since the two of you agreed to take on this task, they must have followed the slides here.”

  “Amazing,” said Doug. “I guess if we had any doubts about this being the right decision, our affirmation is before us.”

  It never occurred to me we would need to have the portraits brought here for potential Betrotheds to see. This was truly spectacular.

  While moving on to Cecily’s paintings, I did my best to ignore the grouping of Carney’s portrait as a child. Unfortunately, I felt myself drawn to the display. The morality struggled within me thinking how easy it would be to arrive two months earlier and distract Doug long enough on his walk home from work.

  Staring at the paintings, I felt Jimmy’s hands on my shoulders. He had to know what was going through my mind. Giving me a squeeze, he turned me away from Carney’s array.

  The morning slipped away before we knew it, and the clock read 11:55. Our departure was at hand. Going back to the sitting area, Jimmy scooped up our small overnight backpack and slipped it on his shoulders.

  “I guess this is it, then?” Doug asked.

  “Yes, you’re on your own. I believe you two will make a fabulous pair of matchmakers,” I said.

  “No doubt,” Jimmy added. “Ready, sweetie?” he asked.

  Giving both Cecily and Doug a hug, I turned to Jimmy. “I am now.”

  “Good luck you two. It really is a rewarding life,” Jimmy said with a wave.

  “I believe you’re right. My love to Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “It will be conveyed,” I said as Jimmy took both my hands in his.

  We gazed into each other’s eyes, until we stood back in my studio in Palos Verdes. I felt good about the final placement of Paolo’s slides. I knew they would be well attended to. We felt it wouldn’t be fair to Paolo, Sr., to keep him in suspense.

  Hopping into Jimmy’s car, we drove south to Laguna Beach. Paolo granted us entrance immediately and waited at the front door. His grin conveyed that he already knew the good news.

  “The portraits are gone. I take it they accepted the task?” There was no doubt in his voice.

  “Yes, Paolo, they did,” I responded, as I walked up and threw my arms around his waist. He returned the embrace, while extending a hand to Jimmy.

  “Please,” he said, “come enjoy a glass of sparkling wine in celebration and honor of Junior.”

  “Of course,” Jimmy said as he threw his arm around my shoulders. “We’d be honored.”

  After toasting what could only be described as victory, we returned home.

  Our final chapter had closed.

  Or had it?

  Back at the house in Palo Verdes, we popped open a bottle of our favorite Merlot. Enjoying the wine out on the porch overlooking the South Bay, Jimmy grasped my free hand. “You’re still thinking about Carney as a child, aren’t you?”

  “How can I not? We have the opportunity to stop him before it begins.”

  “By killing him?” Jimmy asked.

  “Maybe that’s how things were supposed to have played out. Carney should have fallen to his death as a child.”

  “Neither one of us is a murderer.”

  “It wouldn’t be murder.”

  “Wouldn’t it be?” Jimmy asked.

  Setting my glass on the table I stood up and walked to the end of the porch. My steps echoed across the boards. He was right. Whether it’s by my own hand or through diversion, it would still be murder.

  “Think about it, sweetie, what if some actions in his life resulted in good? Those would be wiped out too. How can we be the judge of that?”

  “He took lives. How many innocents died at his hands?” Turning to face him, I asked, “What about April?”

  “What about her? It isn’t our place to decide who lives or dies,” Jimmy stated getting agitated.

  “Yet he’s allowed the choice? How does that work?” My tone escalated.

  “Honey, come sit back down.” He extended his hand to me, his voice softened. “This should be our time to contemplate retirement. The process is complete. It’s time to walk away and focus on our own lives.”

  Returning to my seat and picking up the wine glass, I reeled my emotions in. “You’re right—time to move on,” I said staring out to the ocean.

  Chapter 61

  Standing on the street across from the Pendry’s building, I watched the toddler playing on the balcony. By the way he looked up into the apartment every once in a while, someone obviously spoke to him through the open door. Probably a parent or nanny warning him to be careful.

  All the furniture was placed at least a couple feet away from the wrought iron railing encircling the area. It was quite a large platform—one only found in an upscale city neighborhood. The boy brushed his blond hair out of his eyes as he crawled between the rail and the back of a wicker couch, pushing a toy car.

  Finally, a young woman walked out onto the balcony and the boy dutifully went over to her as she bent down giving him a kiss and hug. Patting him on the head, she went back inside, and he resumed focus on his little car and its travels.

  A few minutes later I noticed her walking across the intersection nearest the front entryway to the building. Returning my focus to the balcony, a man stood in front of the boy. With his back to me, even from this distance, he looked too old to be the boy’s father. He sported a full head of gray hair. The tyke looked up at him, smiled, then went about his game.

  The gentleman pushed the wicker chair on the side up against the railing. I noticed the couch sat in a new position, backed up against the wrought iron as well. He even carried the small glass topped coffee table over and set it in the corner.

  What was he doing? I wondered.

  After completing his rearrangement of the furniture, the man gazed down at the child still playing. Shaking his head, he turned and looked directly at me. I recognized him immediately—Francois. He nodded his head once in acknowledgement.

  Unable to move for a moment, the shock overwhelmed me. With his gaze still focused on my face, Francois disappeared.

  Quickly looking back at the child, I saw him swiveling his head, probably wondering where his grandfather had gone. Abandoning his toy, the boy got up and spun around once taking in the whole balcony. Jumping up onto the couch, Carney leaned over the back. Placing his little foot on the arm, he pushed further up over the top and toward the rail.

  Recovering my wits, I looked at my watch and realized I stayed here watching too long. Hurrying down the sidewalk at a brisk pace, I rounded the corner. There were other pedestrians, but not so dense that I couldn’t get through.

  Scanning the sparse crowd for Doug, I spied him strolling along with his briefcase in one hand. My thoughts suddenly went blank, not sure what I should say to delay his trek. Being so intent on getting here, it never occurred to me to have a valid reason planned out.

  He was still half a block away. The scene from the balcony played out in my mind—the child brushing hair from his eyes, a young mother kissing her son good-by, Francois enabling the boy to climb over the rail. It all swirled out of control. Did I have the right to take that woman’s child away? Francois had been ready and knew I was here to help. Would it be considered right or wrong to allow the boy to live, knowing the man he would become?

  Standing motionless on the sidewalk, the people passing me became blurred. The only one I could focus on was Doug, as he drew closer. Now in front of me, he had to step a little to the side to get around. With a brief smile, he nodded in my direction and kept walking. I let him.

  People continued to swarm past me until I stepped aside to lean against the nearest wall. My breath came in gasps, then finally sobs.

  Behind me a male voice asked, “Are you all right, ma’am? Can I help you with anything?”

  Standing up straight, I felt the plush carpet underneath m
y feet. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I stood in front of the bench facing the table where the Family Slide should have been. It was gone. Turning slowly around, the portraits looked the same as they had before I left. They were filled with happy couples smiling at each other. Instead of the thirty I’d hoped for upon taking this journey, there remained only twenty-six.

  Wandering out into the hall, I heard noises in the kitchen. As I walked through the doorway, Jimmy turned around from where he stood by the stove cooking dinner. Setting a spatula on the counter, he walked toward me with his arms open. I fell into them and buried my face in his chest.

  “You couldn’t do it, could you?”

  Shaking my head back and forth, still pressed to his body, he squeezed me tighter. Jimmy knew I wouldn’t go through with it in the end. That’s probably why he didn’t stop me from going. He left for work this morning, without mentioning a word of how I shouldn’t take the journey.

  Releasing his hold, while keeping one arm around me, Jimmy led us to the living room. Sitting down on the couch, the tears finally stopped. I wiped the remaining moisture away with the backs of my hands.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  “Some other time. It doesn’t matter now. I failed and didn’t save those women.”

  “They weren’t yours to save. If you had, it would make you no better than Carney.”

  Gazing into Jimmy’s sparkling green eyes, I said, “The process is over. Doug and Cecily would have placed all of their matches by now.”

  “Yes,” he said, “and now it’s time for us to focus on the rest of our lives together. It’s our time.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m ready for that to happen.”

  “Good. We’ll start after dinner with a roaring blaze in the fireplace,” he motioned toward the other side of the room.

  Looking over at the hearth, I saw a stack of logs ready to be lit. Atop the pile, sat my Family Slide.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Terry Segan currently calls the state of Nevada home. Most weekends she can be found riding backseat on a red Victory Cross Country Tour, heading for the beach, mountains or anywhere else her gypsy soul cares to wander. Exploring new places, be it cities or backroads, is a passion she shares with her boyfriend, who indulges these travel cravings every chance he gets. The musings conjured by her imagination while riding on the back of the bike can be found throughout the pages of her writing.