Time-Travel Duo

by James Paddock

  “Rebecca?”

  “Your mother’s mother.” There was a long pause before Robert added, “Your grandmother.” Annie thought she caught a catch in his suddenly softened voice, then as he continued the thought left her. “She was a baby when your mother saved her father’s life.”

  “Technically, Grandfather, it’s still changing history.”

  “Technically, Annie, you started it. This was your idea.”

  “My idea! You mean you started this thing because of my interest three years ago? This is my fault? I didn’t have the idea to go back and save my mother. I was just trying to understand how it all happened. I was curious. I wanted to know who my mother was, still do as far as that goes, but not enough to travel back in time.”

  “You said as much.”

  “That doesn’t mean I was serious. I was just a kid, saying things to see what reaction I’d get. That’s what kids do. You took me literally and spent the last three years rebuilding this thing? Please stop. I don’t want to go the rest of my life feeling guilty if someone else gets killed, or worse yet wake up one morning to discover the world has completely changed because someone screwed with history.”

  “You wouldn’t even know it if it happened.”

  “Jesus, Grandfather. That’s not the point. Don’t you get it? You can’t play God.”

  “If there is a God He gave us intelligence for a reason.”

  “Even if with it we destroy ourselves?” Annie listened to her grandfather’s cough again. “This is stupid. I’m sitting out here in the woods in the middle of the night on wet, cold ground, getting a chill, with a flashlight that may or may not work long enough to get me back to my cabin. I want to climb into my warm bed. I’m on vacation, Grandfather, and I have a busy day of it tomorrow.”

  “When’s a good time to call you?” he asked.

  “I’m turning this thing off, so there’s not a good time. I’m not doing it, period.”

  “Please think about it.”

  “Bye, Grandfather.” She ended the call and immediately turned off the phone. Instead of standing she hugged her knees, rested her head, and thought about the stupidity of what her grandfather wanted to do . . .

  . . . and the possibilities.

  After a time she packed the phone into the case, found East on the GPS compass and then started picking her way through the brush and trees. At the river she stopped and gazed at the nearly full moon just beginning to show its entire self over the mountain, captivatingly huge, nearly bright enough not to need a flashlight, and thought about the astronauts who made the trip there and back and about those who lost their lives in the process of getting into or out of space. And then she thought about Columbus who believed that the world was round and who risked his and many other lives to pursue the possibility only to discover something he never dreamed of, thus changing the course of history? But did he really? No more than Hitler or Bell or Voltaire or Osama bin Laden.

  But that’s not the same. They could only move forward. They could not jump back and change an outcome. My mother believed that she traveled back for a reason, that her jump in time was preordained, that her purpose was to ensure history went as it was already recorded. Why should she have had to do that?

  How could it have happened any other way? How could it even be possible to change history? By doing so you would likely erase the fact that you went back at all. One negates the other. Wouldn’t that mean that traveling back in time would be impossible? Since we know that that is not the case, that time travel is past the realm of science fiction, how does that leave us? Are we meant to go back and tweak a little now and then? Is there in fact a God and He has this wormhole built into His master plan, His way of allowing us our own checks and balances? Wouldn’t He be afraid we’d do something stupid? We’re rather good at that, after all, us Homo sapiens.

  Suddenly there was a snap behind her and she swung the flashlight around. No glaring eyes shined back at her, and after an extremely long minute there were no further sounds. She regained her breathing, cast the light along the riverbank and rushed after it. In seven minutes she caught sight of the lights of Grizzly Ranch and then soon her own cabin porch light. Two minutes later she was buried under her bedcovers, willing her body to beat down the chill of the sheets. For a long time she did not sleep, unable to erase from her head the conversation with her grandfather.

  When she finally started to drift off another set of words popped into her head, words that she spent most of one other night trying to remove from her head, words of her own making that brought her, once more, fully awake.

  I’d give anything to go back and unsay the things that I said to Tony.

  She sat up.

  That wouldn’t be going back and ensuring that history occurs at it was written. That would be going back and changing something, even if it was only her words.

  She lay back down.

  No! It should not be done.

  For a long time she did not sleep, and when she did she did not sleep well.

  Chapter 18

  June 5, 2007

  Annie joined Mary and Richard for their morning walk because there was no point in lying in bed any longer. After the walk she dragged herself through breakfast. She was glad that Brad wasn’t there because she didn’t have the energy to spar with him.

  “You look horrible, Luv,” Mary said as they stepped out into the bright morning. “Coming down with something?”

  Annie shook her head. “Just didn’t get much sleep. Think I’m going to go back to bed.”

  “Just in case, you come with me first. You take some Lemsip and tea.”

  “No, really. I’m not coming down with anything. I just didn’t sleep well.”

  “This is for just in case.”

  “What is Lemsip?”

  “It’s what we Brits take. It’s sort of like your NightQuil or Theraflu.”

  Annie forced her fuzzy brain to think about it for a second. “Will it help me sleep?”

  “Of course, Dear.”

  Annie followed Mary to her cabin and forced down the Lemsip, glad for the tea afterwards, which she generally didn’t care for. Then she returned to her cabin and went back to bed.

  At just after 2:00 Annie woke with a start. The fuzz was gone from her head and she was full of energy and starving. She showered and dressed and then headed into Whitefish. Her first stop was Wendy’s on Highway 93.

  She leaned against her rental car eating her sandwich, sucking on her milkshake and enjoying the sun, while looking up the highway toward Pack It In Sports and thinking about the event that transpired there. She couldn’t quite see the building three-quarters of a mile away, tucked behind several larger buildings and a few trees. What was that all about, the notion that she had wanted to buy their business? For some reason she doubted that there was a scam going on, but what else could it have been? And why did she even bring up the idea of buying that business to begin with? She was only trying to make a point with Mary. She had never thought about owning her own business. Hell, she wasn’t old enough to be thinking about those things yet, still buried in graduate school, contemplating continuing on to her doctorate. Why would she ever want to stop and sell hiking gear?By the time she finished her sandwich she had made no headway on the puzzle. She put it aside and looked up and down Hwy 93 wondering where to go for a good flashlight. Pack It In Sports of course, but that wasn’t going to happen; no doubt about that. Then she had an idea.

  Twenty minutes later Annie was in Wal-Mart’s sports section waiting for Erik to finish with a customer. Erik was the salesman who referred her to Pack It In Sports. She kept herself sort of out of his sight. She didn’t want him seeing her face until he was alone and she was ready.

  Finally the customer walked away. Annie hung the fishing lure she was pretending to be interested in back on its hook and walked up to the counter. He was busy putting away an assortment of depth finders. “Good afternoon,” she said.

  “Good afternoon,”
he said without looking up. “What can I help you with?”

  “I’m looking for a good flashlight. You know Bill Small, don’t you?”

  “Bill Small,” he said as he straightened from his task and turned toward her. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Annie carefully watched his face. “You recommended me to him about a week ago.”

  “I did?”

  “Pack It In Sports.”

  “Oh! Sure. I probably did that, but I still don’t know who Bill Small is.”

  “He owns it.”

  “Oh! Well, there you go. I only know one person there, Jeff Blanco. My cousin’s friend, and I don’t know him very well. No idea who owns the place. Nice store, though. Did this Bill Small send you to me for flashlights?”

  Erik definitely looked perplexed, Annie concluded. “No. I just thought. Anyway, what do you have in good flashlights, like those Maglites?”

  “Right down here,” he said and led Annie down an aisle. “All the flashlights are here,” he pointed, “and we have quite a selection of Maglites. I remember you now. You were with someone, looking at tents I think.”

  “Backpacks,” Annie corrected.

  “Backpacks, of course. Did Pack It In have something you liked?”

  “Yes, they did.” She picked out a 4-cell Maglite.

  “If you’re looking for a light to pack with you, four Ds can be rather heavy. I’d suggest nothing heavier than a two D or C LED, or a two double A. Maglite makes a nice belt holster for the double A.” He picked a holster off the display rack and handed it to her.

  She looked at it and then pulled a double A LED from the rack. “I’ll take this and the belt holster, and the 4-cell.”

  “Good choice. You’ll need batteries, too. Have you thought about a headlamp?” he said as he grabbed one and showed it to her. “This Streamlight is popular.” He put it on his head. “Wear it like a hat and it keeps your hands free.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Let me get you a basket so you can make it to checkout. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  She followed him and then dropped everything into the hand basket he set on the counter for her. “I think I owe you an apology.”

  “You do?”

  “The Bill Small I mentioned, the owner of Pack It In Sports, claimed to know me and he actually knew some personal information about me. I had thought that since you had recommended his store that you passed him information after running my credit card and that you and he had some kind of scam going.” Erik’s shocked look rushed the rest of Annie’s words. “I’m really sorry. It couldn’t have happened that way because I never gave you my credit card.” She felt the sudden rush of blood to her face. “I don’t know why I didn’t remember that before now. I checked out up front. I don’t even think I gave you my name.”

  His shocked look turned to a slight shade of his own embarrassment. He smiled. “If you did, I don’t remember it.” He held out his hand. “I’m Patrick O’Reilly.”

  She took his hand. “What are you doing wearing Erik’s nametag?”

  He glanced down at the plastic tag and then said in a thick faked Irish, “Ah, well, me name is actually Erik Patrick O’Reilly, you see. Me mum wanted the Erik. Me old man wanted the Patrick. I much prefer the Patrick me self. I forget to tell Wal-Mart that when they make me nametag.”

  Annie laughed. “I’m Elizabeth Anne Caschetta. I go by Annie.”

  “Another middle namer.”

  “Small club.”

  “You’d be surprised. Elizabeth is a pretty name. Why Annie?”

  “My mother’s name was Anne. She died when I was a baby so in a way, I became her replacement. I’ve actually thought about reverting, but the one time I brought it up to my dad he didn’t talk to me for days.”

  He nodded his head in understanding. “Tough break about your mom. Your accent; is that New York?”

  “Boston. Here on vacation.”

  “Yes. Boston. Not very good with the accents.”

  “You born here in Montana?”

  “Yep. Bred and raised right here in good old Kalispell. Saw the world via Afghanistan in ’02, finished up my Army time and came back to the University of Montana down in Missoula. Worked on a forestry degree, graduated, and now I’m at Wal-Mart.”

  Annie looked away, closed and then opened her eyes. She remembered when Tony announced he wanted to join the Marines, and when Beth announced that Mikhail wanted to join. She turned back, started to ask why he joined the Army, and then caught herself. Let it go. Don’t even go there. “Forestry degree?” She took a deep breath, forced her insides to relax. “You won’t be here long.” Her insides didn’t relax. Instead her stomach started churning. Why does every guy have to join the Military? Is the entire world going crazy?

  “No. It brings in a few bucks while I try to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”

  She forced a smile and picked up the basket. “I’d better go. You’ve got a customer.”

  He glanced around at an old guy peering down at something under the glass on the other side of the box-like counter, and then swung his eyes back to her. “Yeah, I guess I’d better get back to work.”

  Without another word she turned and briskly stepped away, increasing her pace until she was almost running by the time she reached the front of the store. She found a short line and then tapped her toe while an old woman dug through her wallet for change.

  Ever hear of a credit card! Annie wanted to scream. Finally the woman dropped an assortment of coins into the clerk’s hand and then waited until she had the receipt before spending another eternity folding it away and then stowing her wallet in some secret place in her purse, and then fumbling for the handles of the bag the clerk was trying to hand to her. The entire time Annie was consciously aware of her pounding pulse and growing headache.

  The clerk greeted her as she scanned her items. Annie mumbled something back, scanned her card, stared at the card reader until the signature line popped up, signed it, received the receipt and the bag, and then rushed away, passing the old woman at the door. Outside she stopped and lifted her head up to the blue sky and held back a scream.

  Twenty minutes later Annie was still at Wal-Mart, sitting on a bench not far from the doors. Her purchases lay at her feet. For the first five minutes her head had rested in her hands until she became aware of the people coming and going, and then she sat back and stared out into the parking lot. She felt calmer, her panic attack gone, if that’s what it was. This was worse than in front of Safeway the week before after yelling at Beth on the phone. The thing that triggered this one was Patrick saying that he was in the Army, in Afghanistan. At least this time she didn’t make a fool of herself, or scare children, though she was ready to beat up a little old lady.

  Her elbows on her knees, she looked down at her feet. This is crazy. What am I going to do? I can’t live like this. There’s still a war going on and I have to be able to live in a world where the words Tony, Iraq, and the Marines, or Army and Afghanistan are going to come up around me. I can avoid talking about it myself, but I can’t stop others from bringing it up. How would Patrick have known? How would anybody who doesn’t know me have known? Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should have stayed in Boston where I could avoid people I don’t know.

  But I could talk about it with Mary without going off the deep end. Why is that? Is it because she’s in the same boat? We understand each other? It’s only June . . . She put her head back in her hands. It’s June fifth. Four months today since Tony died. I forgot. How the hell did I forget? What is wrong with me?

  A pair of running shoes and khaki pants walked up. The bench moved as the person sat next to her. “Are you okay, Annie?”

  Patrick? She straightened up and looked at him. “I’m sorry. Suddenly wasn’t feeling good. Just a wave of nausea.”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “What?”

  “This is exactly how my Aunt Sara acted
when she got pregnant.”

  “No! I’m not pregnant! Go away!”

  “I was fourteen at the time. She’s mom’s youngest sister. She came to live with us for a while because grandpa was angry. It was fun to talk to her about runny egg whites and watch her race for the bathroom.”

  “If you treat your aunt like that, what would you do to a sister, and why aren’t you gone yet?”

  “By the time my sister was old enough to tease, I was past the teasing stage. Just making sure you’re okay.”

  Annie gave him a long look and saw sincere concern on his face. She drew in a long, deep breath and then let it out. “I’m okay. Thank you for caring. You’ve gone way beyond the duties of a Wal-Mart associate.”

  “This isn’t Erik the concerned and always ready to help Wal-Mart associate. He went off duty.” He slipped into his Irish brogue. “This is Patrick, the bloke who can’t pass by a beautiful lady in distress.”

  She smiled and attempted her own Irish brogue. “Oh, but you have a sweet tongue Mister Patrick O’Reilly.”

  “The happiness in your smile and the light in your eyes are but a barrier against a heaviness in your heart.”

  She turned her head away. “Your tongue is also observant.”

  “My father always said that there was not a load that couldn’t be lightened by sweet butter, warm whiskey, and a patient ear.”

  “Do your pickup lines always come from a dictionary of Irish sayings?”

  Patrick laughed. “I could probably come up with an Irish saying for that, but I’ve a feeling I’ve run the limit already. Sweet butter, warm whiskey and a patient ear means would you join me for an early dinner in a quiet little pub where you can tell me your woes over a beer.”

  “I don’t think nineteen is old enough to drink in this state.”

  “Over a root beer then.”

  “I also don’t think I’m ready to talk about my woes to a guy I don’t know.”

  “Think of me as your priest, rabbi, or bartender. Nothing goes past me. A secret between two is a secret, and I believe should stay that way.”