Time-Travel Duo

by James Paddock

  She lay back down. So what? What difference does it make? The entire notion of traveling across time is stupid and downright dangerous.

  And why had Grandfather called?

  And then she thought of something else. He had said he had a summer cold, that he had gotten caught in the rain last weekend. Her dad had told her that the weather had been dry last weekend. Her grandfather had lied. Why?

  Annie woke at 4:26, four minutes before her alarm. Surprisingly she felt refreshed, excited about the coming day alone. She showered, had a quick bowl of cereal, finished packing her backpack, filled her hydrator, and went out the door. She started to pull away and then realized she forgot to put the note to Patrick on the door. She went back in, decided to leave it as she wrote it, folded it in half and put his name on it. After attaching it to the screen door, she drove out of Grizzly Ranch only on her parking lights as though stealing away on a secret mission.

  Once in Columbia Falls Annie stopped and powered up the satphone. She had noticed the day before that there was voice mail, but she never got a chance to listen to it. It would only be from her grandfather, but he at least deserved for her to listen to it. When she called it up, there were actually eleven messages. After the first couple, he kept repeating for her to call him. She deleted them all and then dialed the number her grandfather had called from the day before. He’d be up at 7:30 in Boston on a Sunday morning; he was an early riser. She only got a generic voicemail. She started to turn off the satphone and put it away and then decided to try speed dial two, which she knew went to his previous cell phone number. She was surprised when he answered.

  “A little early for you in Montana, isn’t it, Annie?” her grandfather said.

  “Going hiking. Wanted an early start.”

  “I see, and you wanted to visit with me first?”

  “I’m curious to know why you called yesterday. I had eleven voice mails from you before that and it didn’t seem like you had a point to the call.”

  “Can’t a man call his granddaughter and see how she’s doing?”

  “You’ve never called me before just to chat. You’ve always had a motive. What are you up to?”

  “I’m up to about five foot seven. How about you?”

  Annie suddenly noticed a familiar noise in the background. “Where you going?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re at Logan Airport. Where’re you going?”

  “I’m taking a little vacation.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  Robert felt off balance by the question, glad for the sudden coughing fit as he thought of an answer. “Mexico,” he finally said. “Meeting some friends in Puerto Vallarta.”

  “Oh! How long you going to be there?”

  “A couple of weeks, maybe a month. Haven’t decided yet.”

  “You don’t sound well enough to be heading off on vacation. You told me yesterday you’d see a doctor on Monday.”

  “I forgot I’d be gone.”

  “You forgot you were going to Mexico?”

  “My flight is being called so I have to turn off the phone and board.”

  “Okay. Call me when you get back. I’ve never been to Mexico. Would like to know what it’s like.”

  “I certainly will. Bye.”

  “Bye, Grandfather,” she said. “Love you,” she added but he was already gone.

  “That was Annie?” Charles asked.

  “Yes,” Robert said as they slipped into line to board first class.

  “Isn’t it like 5:30 in the morning there?”

  “She’s heading out on a hike.”

  “A hike!” Charles made a face. “To get up at 5:30 is torture enough.”

  “It would probably be good for you to get out on a hike yourself. I hear there are some nice trails in Montana.”

  “A hike to me is getting from the parking lot to the classroom. A nice trail is from the chair to the refrigerator. You’re not going to talk me into some kind of nature health walk while we’re there. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m a tad bottom heavy, which means I’m shaped for sitting, not walking, unlike you who is thin as a string of spaghetti, and who I’d swear is getting thinner.”

  “What I don’t understand,” Robert said to change the subject, “is why she called.”

  “She didn’t say?”

  “Not exactly.” Robert handed his boarding pass to the agent who scanned it and handed it back.

  Charles did the same thing and they walked down the breezeway together. “She’s coming around.”

  “You say that with such authority, as though you know something I don’t.”

  Charles grunted and smiled, but didn’t say anything more.

  Chapter 28

  June 10, 2007

  Annie stood on the cliff edge near the beginning of Highline Trail, gazing across the valley and down at the cars coming up Going To The Sun Road. There were two girls and a guy hiking just ahead of her but for the moment she was all alone along a stretch that cut into the side of the rock mountain. Her hand was clamped onto a cable handrail that ran along the mountain wall, a security device designed to keep the weak hearted from venturing too close to the edge. She remembered standing on this very spot eight years before with her father, not daring to let loose of the cable for fear she would lose control of her body and it would make a leaping jump into space. The difference between then and now was that back in July of 1999 there was no snow on the trail. The place where she now stood was almost north facing, thus was packed with snow, the trail cut by human efforts and human traffic. She thought about the story of the woman whose horse lost its footing somewhere along the Highline Trail. The two of them plunged hundreds of feet to their death. She looked at the undisturbed snow between the path and the cliff edge and wondered exactly where the edge was. She certainly wasn’t going to venture out to find out. If a horse could accidentally fall off, so could she.

  As a matter-of-fact, Annie didn’t venture at all from the handhold.

  She thought about her grandfather again. Something about their last two conversations kept nagging at her. He went to a lot of trouble to teleport the satphone to her just to get her to call him, but in their recent conversations he never said a thing about it or his time-travel project, even when she brought it up. Now he’s going on vacation to Mexico, supposedly forgetting about Saturday when he stated that he’d go to the doctor on Monday. Mexico was an easy excuse to not go to the doctor. Why didn’t he use it instead of making an empty promise? Maybe, just maybe he has given up on getting her involved, but it wasn’t his nature to walk away from a project for a vacation. Grandfather hadn’t taken a vacation in all her years of memory. He had too much research, and too many board meetings, classes and lectures to get away for more than a day or two.

  Kind of like her father, though her father wasn’t nearly as bad. He actually took her on a vacation once.

  Conclusion: Her grandfather had not abandoned his idiot pursuit of time-travel; therefore he was not going on vacation. Why was he going to Mexico? Is there something there that he needs for his project that he can’t get in the United States? Doubtful seeing that from the sounds of it, it is already up and running; it just needs a person small enough, knowledgeable enough, and trustworthy enough . . . like his granddaughter. Then why did he lie that he was going to Mexico? What was he actually doing at the airport? If he was there to see someone off, he’d have said so. If he was going anywhere on any kind of normal business, he would not have lied that he was going on vacation to Mexico. He was unquestionably flying somewhere. Where would he be going that he thought he needed to lie to her about it? And why did he lie that he had caught a cold in the rain?

  A movement at the corner of her eye broke Annie’s thoughts. She turned her head to find a huge mountain goat coming toward her along the cliff edge path. She instantly thought of her camera, but also realized that she’d have to let loose of the cable to ge
t to it. Instead she pushed against the rock wall and the packed snow to give him plenty of room to pass, though her logical mind reminded her that the trail at this point was plenty wide. She wouldn’t slip off the edge reaching for her camera. The emotional side of her mind said otherwise. She held her breath as the animal with its scraggly white coat, curved horns, and bushy beard clomped on by, seemingly oblivious to both her and the cliff edge. She let out her breath and watched him until he disappeared around the bend, thinking about how the mountain goats in the park have adapted to humans ogling and following them. Oreamnos americanus, she remembered from her reading, the scientific name for the mountain goat.

  “That was cool,” she said out loud, and then, with one hand remaining on the cable, made her way along the trail until she was on what both her logical and emotional minds agreed to be safer ground, where fields of wildflowers rose to her right between stretches of snowfields, and gradually dropped off to her left. After a time she stopped to take a picture of one such field of wildflowers. Just as she turned on her camera and started to bring it up, she spotted something about fifty feet up the slope moving toward her through the rocks, grass, flowers, and snow. A bit larger than a big house cat, the animal moved in short spurts as if unsure of its direction, though gradually proceeding down slope. Annie put the camera to her eye and zoomed in closer just as it crossed a snow bank. Its front half was silvery-gray with black markings around its nose, eyes and cute little ears; its back half was reddish-brown.

  A page from a book she had scanned in the tourist shop opened in her mind’s eye; it was a hoary marmot. The picture matched it perfectly. Its scientific name was marmota caligata. As it continued along its trek she noticed its bushy tail and long, curved claws. Fifteen feet away it stopped on top of a large rock and seemed to pose. Annie took advantage and shot several pictures. Once satisfied that he had done his duty providing photo op entertainment for the tourist, he dropped from the rock and continued on his way, crossing the trail not ten feet behind her. When he vanished from view she tucked her camera away, sucked some water from her hydrator, and continued on her own trek, thoroughly pleased with her morning. She realized that she’d have to clip along if she wanted to make it seven and a half miles to Granite Park Chalet, have lunch, and then return by the same trail to her car at Logan Pass. Fifteen miles. Initially she worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle the distance, especially at this altitude, but so far her lungs didn’t feel too bad. She had analyzed the trail on the maps before heading out, programming her GPS with beginning and ending waypoints. She knew that the highest altitude she’d hit was about 7200 feet. It was her legs that she worried about. Though the trail through the snowfields had been well packed by previous hikers, she found that the stress of having to take extra care during those stretches was starting to take its toll.

  At a point where snow runoff was cutting a path across the trail, creating a cascading series of mini waterfalls, she stopped and checked her GPS. It showed that she was sitting at 6690 feet and that it was 4.7 miles yet to Granite Park Chalet. As the crow flies, she reminded herself. Probably about five miles as the human walks, she guessed. She checked the distance to her car and was surprised to find it was only 1.25 miles. “Damn!” Dejected she sat down on a rock, pulled out an energy bar, and considered how she would safely navigate her way across the raging runoff in front of her. This wasn’t the first one she had come across, though the largest so far. She wondered how many more there would be and if they would become too much for her. The snowfields she’d hit so far were easy enough to cross, but what if the trail gets into a north facing area where the snow is deeper, where it maybe never melts? Would that be too much for her?

  She took another bite of the energy bar, chewed and then pulled her pack onto her lap and took a slug of water.

  “Hey!”

  She looked past the rapidly running water to the source of the scream. It was one of the girls who had been hiking ahead of her and she was running. The other girl and guy were right behind her.

  “Grizzly!” she shouted.

  Annie jumped to her feet. Her GPS, backpack, and energy bar hit the ground.

  “Go! Go!” the lead girl yelled, waving her hands. She and the other girl hardly slowed as they splashed through the water, nearly knocking Annie over as they swept by.

  Annie scooped everything up, fumbled to get under her pack, dropping the GPS and energy bar again. After splashing through the water the guy stopped to look back.

  “Are you sure it was a grizzly bear?” Annie said.

  “Either that or a very hairy fat elk with long claws and big teeth,” he said and then turned to face her. “I don’t suggest you sit here to wait and see.” She was still struggling to get into the pack. “Here!” he said. He grabbed the pack from her and then turned her around so that she could slide her arms through. As she was pulling the clips together he picked up the GPS, energy bar, and wrapper. He shoved them into her hands and then started pushing her down the trail. “Run, damn it!”

  She started running.

  At the first snowfield she slipped and fell on her butt. Before she could do anything the guy had propped her on her feet and started pushing her again. As hard as she tried she couldn’t run any faster for fear the next slip would send her rolling down the hillside, not too much unlike her vision of the horse and its rider. In the next stretch of dry ground she stumbled over a rock. He caught her and they came to a stop. She turned to thank him and saw the animal they were running away from. A four-letter exclamation got caught in her throat.

  The guy looked back over his shoulder. “Move your ass!”

  He didn’t have to say it twice. When he looked forward Annie was already twenty feet down the trail on legs and feet she didn’t know she had. But she only had two of each and the bear had four, and she was on his home turf. She had read that they could easily outrun a human, especially if they’re hungry. She prayed that this one wasn’t hungry, that he was just out for a morning stroll in his backyard.

  A grizzly bear’s backyard, Annie thought. What the hell am I doing hiking around in his backyard? They slowed a little in another snowfield and then crossed a long dry section just before entering the shadow of the mountain where the trail turned west and ran along the cliff edge. Annie didn’t think about the drop-off, but did keep her hands on the cable. It was three-quarters of the way around that they caught up with the two girls. They had stopped and were looking back across the gulf—Going To The Sun Road ran several hundred feet below where people passed by in their cars oblivious to the drama above them—to the trail on the other side. The four of them stood together breathing hard and shaking, watching for the big grizzly to appear. They weren’t disappointed. He came around the bend in the trail, but not on a run after them, as they had all feared. He was just walking along, seemingly as Annie had prayed, out for a morning stroll. Annie was sure when she first saw him, after the guy caught her from falling, that he was less than 50 yards back. Now it had to be at least 200 yards.

  The bear stopped, rose to its hind legs for a few seconds, sniffed, and then after dropping to all fours, turned up slope in pursuit of whatever it smelled. All four of them let out collective breaths.

  “Let’s keep going on back,” the guy said. “No point in taking any chances.”

  “No argument from me,” one of the girls said. “Me neither,” the other said.

  “We have to report this to the visitor’s center.”

  “We do?” Annie said as she stepped along behind the two girls, the guy right behind her.

  “All grizzly sightings need to be reported so that they can keep track of where they are.”

  One of the girls added, “And so that they can warn other hikers. They may even close this trail for a while.”

  “Oh,” Annie said. The four of them continued to rehash the experience in the half-mile back to the parking lot, turning back or at least warning anyone they met along the way. The guy said he’d report i
t to the visitor’s center and then he and the two girls headed off in that direction. Annie slowly walked down the row of parked cars to her rental, dropped the pack at her feet and half sat, half leaned against the trunk before realizing she’d never gotten their names, nor they hers.

  And then she wondered what she would do next. The adrenaline rush was draining away and she was starting to feel the result of running several miles with a pack on her back. She lifted it from the ground with a lot more effort than two hours earlier, hooked it over her shoulder and headed toward the visitor’s center to find a place to sit for a while. When she couldn’t find a single empty bench she chose a spot in the sun up against the building, and lowered her butt to the ground. She wasn’t sure if sitting down had ever felt so good. She dug inside her pack for one of the two bottles of water she had put in as backup to her hydrator, and gulped down half of it. And then she pulled out the satphone and turned it on. She had an overpowering need to tell someone.

  Annie couldn’t gage Beth’s mood when she said, “Hello,” though it definitely wasn’t angry like the last time they talked, or bubbly, which used to be another word for Beth.

  “Hi,” Annie said.

  “Annie!” there was a hint of bubbly. “Where have you been? I’ve tried calling you bunches of times, and emailing.”

  “My cell phone doesn’t work out here and with dial up it’s a pain to even get on the computer. It’s been so long I’m scared to even look at my email.”

  “Don’t read any of mine when you do. Throw them away. I thought you were mad at me.”

  “I’ve never been mad at you. It was just that the deal with Mikhail . . . it trigged some of my own crap . . . you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

  “How are things with Mikhail?”