by Ami Diane
The temperature was dropping as the sky grew darker, but it was at least thirty degrees warmer than it had been a few minutes before, causing a good breeze to blow. All around them, the snow shimmered like crystals as it began to melt.
“It began about ten years ago. No one knows for sure why it started, only that they know when it started. It was the middle of the day in a rural town in Colorado in 1951. A blinding flash of light—much like what you just witnessed—transported Keystone Village to 1932, a few miles outside of Boston.
“About four days later, I was traveling the road with one of my inventions and wandered into town. I thought I’d stay the night at the inn then get an early start the next day. Jimmy tried to get me to leave, but I wouldn’t listen.”
He shook his head. “I was a fool. When I awoke the next day, the town had jumped, or flashed, if you will, for the second time, and it was too late.”
Ella’s expression pinched with an onslaught of questions. “Are you telling me the town travels through time?”
“And space, yes.”
“And you’re from the 1930s?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“N—”
“Ella.” His tone brought her to a halt.
Running her fingers through her hair again, Ella didn’t speak, trying to absorb everything. “This isn’t possible. Towns don’t just time travel. People don’t time travel.”
“Believe me, I know. It shouldn’t be possible. I studied theoretical physics. I’m a scientist, and this doesn’t make sense. I’ve poured over books and researched it for the past ten years, trying to understand. And I’m not the only one. Others are working the problem, too. But the bottom line is we are stuck.”
While he’d been speaking, they had arrived back in town.
“Can’t people just leave?”
“They can. But they’re trapped in whatever location and whatever time we are currently in. Still, we’ve had many villagers choose to do this.”
Ella felt dizzy. The ground swayed beneath her feet. She sank to the sidewalk not caring about the snow wetting her pants. Will settled in beside her.
“So… my friends, my family, my job…”
“Gone.”
That one word sent a sharp pain through her chest. Gone. She thought of many other things: her best friend, her home, the stray cat she’d been trying to adopt. All were lost, ripped from her life.
Her breath quickened, and she wrapped her arms around her knees then rested her forehead on them, shutting out the strange world around her. It was all she could do to keep the bile at the back of her throat from coming out.
Will draped his arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for several minutes while Ella replayed the last half hour over and over again in her mind. If she had done things a little differently, if she had just listened to everyone and traded her car in the first day, she’d be home by now.
Her eyes stung, and she blinked, trying to keep it together. A numbness took over. Later, when she was alone, she knew it would hit her full force. The pain would well up from the depths, and she would sob until she had no tears left.
But she would hold it in until then.
Ella lifted her head, her voice raspy. “Does the town ever jump back to the same place or time?"
“Sure, it’s possible, but the probability is remote. It hasn’t happened yet, no. A couple of people who have gotten stuck here get lucky and leave when the town is within a few years of their original time. They cross the border—” he nodded at the demarcation between melting snow and sand in the great distance “—traveling back to their homes by car or horse or whatever.”
Ella shook her head, blinking back hot tears and sat up. “I can’t just be trapped here. I can’t just have my whole life gone, like that.” She snapped her fingers and searched his face.
His eyes were warm pools of ocean. They shimmered, feeling her pain, but there was no mistaking the certainty. She was trapped in Keystone Village.
One of the tears she’d been fighting escaped and traced a path down her cheek. Maybe she was trapped for now, but she would find a way home. Whatever it took. Whatever the cost. She would find a way to stop the jumping. And if the town ever stopped within a few years of her time, she would return home.
“What if—what happens if the town hops to the location of an already existing town? Or a city? I mean, have you ever jumped into the middle of New York City?”
“Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to work that way or we’d be spliced apart, objects trying to occupy the same space-time as each other. Keystone only works or hops into more rural areas.”
“What about sewer, water, infrastructure? Building supplies?” Thoughts tumbled around her brain, numb and half-formed.
His arm dropped, and the warmth and comfort it had provided left. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in. I’ve been there. The best thing you can do is go sleep on it. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise. I'll stop by and answer more questions then. You need time to digest this. Just know, what you’re feeling, all those questions, we’ve all had them. We’ve all been through this.”
He paused as if considering his next words. “You may not want to hear this right now, Ella, but Keystone Village really is a great place once you give it a chance.”
“You mean a great place besides the jumping through time and people dropping dead in the middle of a restaurant?” Her eyes fell. “Sorry, that was insensitive.”
He shot her a tired smile. “I understand.”
Ella swiped the back of her hand over her damp cheek and climbed to her feet. This was too much to process, and already, her brain was shutting down.
They shuffled down Main Street together until they stood outside of the inn. She glanced at her watch. It was nearing ten o'clock at night.
“What do you do about the time changes?”
“Mostly, we ignore them and continue following universal time. But if it seems to be a twelve-hour difference between Keystone’s time and wherever we are and we’re there longer than three days, we’ll adapt. If not, it starts messing with people’s circadian rhythms and psyches.”
Ella nodded, only taking in half of what he said. Her hand curled around the door handle, and she shuffled inside.
Cinnamon lingered in the air, and a dying fire popped in the hearth of the study. She supposed there wouldn’t be much need of the fire now that they were in a desert.
As she slid the door shut, Will said, “Oh, and Ella? Welcome to Keystone Village.”
Ella spent the night tossing and turning, never falling into a deep, restful sleep. When she wasn’t awake staring at the ceiling, she was plagued by nightmares. In one, a sand dune swallowed her mother while her father watched, telling her it wouldn’t have happened if she’d just listened to them.
Around five in the morning, she finally gave up on sleep. She slipped on jeans and a t-shirt, splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom, then padded downstairs in search of coffee in the twilight morning. A chill crept through the mansion, so she slipped on her polar fleece jacket from the entryway.
The house was silent and the kitchen empty. After searching for a few minutes, she located the percolator and turned on the stove.
Now, she understood the wind farm she’d seen her first night here. The traveling town would be unable to hook up with an electrical grid, needing to generate its own power.
While she waited for the water to boil, she sat at the table, looking out at the lake. Most of the snow had melted to patches. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see the dunes. She could almost pretend that she was still in Oregon, waiting for her car to be fixed.
Ella shook her head. When she didn’t show up for work, her boss would call her parents. Then, there’d be frantic phone calls, search parties, and tears. But they wouldn’t find a trace. The snow bank she’d crashed in was probably snowed in by now. It would be like she vanished.
Her
heart ached for her family and her best friend just as much as it did for herself. Sure, she had issues with her parents and they gave her a hard time about her future, but she knew this would devastate them.
Ella cleared her throat and rubbed her tired eyes. Perhaps Will was working on the problem, but she was going to search for an answer too. She was going to find out what was causing the jumps, then she would use it to go home again.
There was always an answer, always a solution to every problem. She would get back to them. And until then, she’d search for the positives because that’s what she needed in order to keep going.
And really, in the grand scheme of things, was it that bad being stuck in a town capable of time travel?
The pot started to bubble on the stove, filling the kitchen with the aroma of mornings and late night study sessions. There was a rustle at her feet, and she looked down to see Fluffy weaving a pattern between her legs.
“Hey, bud. How’d you get in here?” She hefted the ginormous animal onto her lap. He was so heavy that his paws dug divots into her skin. Wincing, she scratched him behind the ears. He began kneading, purring loud enough to drown out the percolator.
A golden morning shone on Twin Hills, tinging the white-capped mounds with fire. Ella held Fluffy while she poured a cup of coffee then settled back into her chair. It creaked and sighed, matching her mood. Her fourth day in Keystone.
Her previous annoyance at the sheriff and Jimmy for trying to hustle her out turned to gratitude. They weren’t being jerks; they’d been trying to save her.
She took a long swig from her cup. Since she would be staying in Keystone for the indefinite future, she needed to get both a job and to find a place to live. Perhaps she could keep renting her room, but that still left her with the problem of cashflow. Specifically, a lack of it now that she couldn’t access her bank account.
If there was anything her lean college years and watching movies had taught her it was that there were two ways to solve money woes: get a job or rob a bank. Since she hadn’t located the bank yet, stealing money was out. She’d ask Rose if she knew of anyone looking to hire.
Fluffy sat up and butted her chin, nearly sloshing her hot coffee over both of them.
“Yeah, I know. I should quit freaking out.” He swished his tail in response, his purring revving up.
Ella poured a second cup of coffee then went in search of the elusive conservatory. It turned out not to be so elusive and made her question her observational skills upon her first time in the library.
Inside, the expansive space took her breath away. From what she could see, glass panels stretched from the ground up and partially over the ceiling, but most of the view was obstructed by leaves, vines, and branches.
The air was moist and smelled of dirt and flowers and endless summers. Ella filled her lungs with strawberries and green beans, with gardenias and jasmine.
She followed a narrow path, brushing aside the reaching branches of an overgrown rhododendron in full pink bloom. Near the glass wall, two potted star jasmines climbed an arching trellis.
Beneath the trellis, she found a café table and two metal chairs. She set her mug down and slipped back into the library in search of a book. Overhead, footsteps and creaking floorboards announced the house’s occupants were beginning to stir.
Her gaze flickered over the dated spines, her breath hitching when she found some gardening books. A particular title caught her attention, and she pulled it out. If Plants Could Kill: One Hundred and One Toxic Plants.
Ella chewed her lower lip. Poison. The idea had been rolling around in her mind since she began to doubt Kay’s death was due to an allergic reaction. It seemed the next obvious explanation.
But if it was poison, would it be natural or something manufactured?
Fluffy butted her leg then sat his generous backside on the hardwood floor, staring up at her with his green, hazel-flecked eyes.
“What do you think?” She showed him the book. He mewed and swished his tail. “Yeah, me too.”
After settling into her chair in the conservatory, Ella cracked open the book and sipped her coffee. Starting with the first page, she skimmed, pausing to read a paragraph here or there when some of the symptoms matched Kayline’s.
Pulling out her cell phone, she opened her notepad app and started a list, taking pictures of any possible offending plant. A half hour later, she’d found three other plants, all with side effects matching what had happened to the waitress.
Ella snapped the book shut and stared at one of the jasmine’s blooms. If Kay’s death was the result of poison, some household product might be just as likely. This was such a small, narrow place to start.
And now that she had a list of suspicious plants, what next? Wander all of Keystone to see if any match?
Her eyes roved the walls of green all around her. The inn was closest in proximity to the diner. Maybe the conservatory was the first place to start searching.
Nearby, Fluffy rolled in a swath of sunshine.
“What do you think?” she asked the pile of fur. “Want to be Watson to my Sherlock?”
His ears twitched—the only indication that he’d heard her.
“Fine, fine. You can be Sherlock.” That earned a tail swish.
The faint clatter of dishes brought Ella back from her mostly one-sided conversation. Her stomach rolled with hunger, protesting for not having eaten yet.
Ella shoved her phone into her back pocket and grabbed her empty coffee cup, praying to God there wouldn’t be lime flavored trout leftovers for breakfast.
CHAPTER 11
“ELLA!” ROSE’S SOFT curls bounced as she bounded across the kitchen and squeezed Ella. “You stayed!”
Ella returned the hug. “Not exactly by choice.”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard. We’ve all been there.” Her lower lip jutted out slightly. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Jimmy lounged at the kitchen table, his arm draped across the back of his chair. The usual mask of apprehension he wore each time he saw her was gone. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with us.” He grinned and lifted his coffee cup. “But Keystone’s a great place once you give it a chance.”
Across the kitchen, Rose’s ruby lips thinned into a tight line as she poured a steaming cup of coffee from the percolator.
“Anyway, we’re glad to have you here. And I’m sorry if I seemed inhospitable before.”
“No worries. I understand now.” Ella picked the seat next to him and dug into a pile of scrambled eggs and slices of ham as thick as her arm. As she chewed, her gaze wandered from the kitchen decor to the two innkeepers. Now, the antiques, the dated outfits, all made sense. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, where are you two from?”
Jimmy opened his arms. “We’re from Keystone. Born and raised.”
“Okay, when are you two from?” Ella scrunched her face up and tried to think of a better way to phrase the question that didn’t sound like a butchering of the English language.
“Colorado, 1951,” Jimmy responded. “We’d just bought the inn right before the first jump. I felt awful for our poor guests. One moved out into her own house, the other left at a flash similar to his own time, and one stayed here. That’s how we gained Mr. Kellerman.”
“What about Crazy Flo?”
Rose placed a cup of coffee in front of Ella. “She came to live here after her last husband died.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” Jimmy said. “The old bag’s probably the one that did him in.”
“Oh, Jimmy.” Rose gave his shoulder a playful slap.
Ella buttered a slice of homemade bread, eyeing Jimmy. She wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. She shifted the conversation to another burning question. “How do you know where or when the town jumps to?”
“We don’t,” Jimmy explained. “Not unless a volunteer risks crossing the boundary to explore then reports back.”
Rose sipped her coffee. “Or unless an
outsider wanders through Keystone. Like you.”
Ella nodded. “Like me. Lucky me.” She suddenly surged with hope. “Wait, how do you know that we’re not in my time right now? Maybe we’re in the same year but in the Gobi desert or something.”
Jimmy gave her a sympathetic look. “There are a couple people living here from the late twentieth century. They use their technology to connect to any sat-lights in orbit—if there are any.”
“Satellites?”
“Yeah, that. Anyway, they would’ve spread the word by now. Since we haven’t heard anything, chances are we’re in a pre-technological age.”
“So, I’ve been dying to ask…” Rose leaned forward. “…what’s the future like?”
Ella swirled more cream into her coffee. “The future?”
“Well, sure. The time period you’re from is the future for us. We’ve had a couple of newer residents from the twentieth century tell us how different things are.” Rose’s eyes grew to the size of their breakfast plates. “That there are phones that fit in your pocket without cords, and you can dial from anywhere.”
Ella smiled. “Depends on the carrier.” She waved her hand at their blank expressions. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not just the ability to contact someone from most any place, but the wealth of information at our fingertips is astounding.”
Ell pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “Most of our collective knowledge is available on here, so we’re not just tapping into one person’s expertise, but many. There’s a wealth of information on here, more than a person could ever have time to read. Don’t know the best recipe for zucchini bread? Look it up. Not sure how to change the oil in your car? Watch a—video. It’s all right here.”
She waved the device in front of their confused faces. “Of course, it works best when I have a connection to the internet.”
What followed was a ten minute, rather painful and clumsy explanation of the internet.
“But where is it kept?” Jimmy asked for the third time. “And what’s it look like?”
Ella let out a slow breath that tossed a lock of hair away from her face. “It’s not really a thing but many things.”