There was a long silence, and then the light turned away followed by clomping and then the slam of a door. Bradshaw and Grae laughed. Annie snickered, and then sat up. For five minutes she remained seated, listening to Bradshaw and Grae murmuring, though she couldn’t make out the words. She figured that they must be in the tent, and The Dweeb and her grandfather were in the RV. She had the urge to move closer to hear what the two professors were talking about, but she dared not.
When it had gone quiet and she was sure that the men had all settled she proceeded with her original plan to filter her light through her fingers and find her way back to the river. In a matter of minutes, after frantically brushing real and imaginary forest critters from her clothes and hair, she was striding south along the river, both lights blazing the trail ahead of her. Occasionally she stopped and checked behind her and looked to both sides. Yes, she was sure that Bradshaw was joking when he told The Dweeb about the rabid raccoons, but the grizzly bear and who knew what else were real. There were many creatures of the night, big and small, and right now she wanted nothing more than to be standing in her hot shower.
When were they planning on calling me? Annie paced in her small living area, having forgotten about the shower. A light bounced off the wall in front of her. Startled, she spun around, expecting to see someone standing in her door. The light bounced off the closed door. She spun halfway around again before realizing it was her headlamp. “Stupid,” she said, putting her hand over her racing heart. She removed the lamp, turned it off and dropped it on the sofa.
It doesn’t matter when they call me. I’m not doing it. They can sit out there for the whole damn summer for all I care. Maybe they’re planning on sending me an email with GPS coordinates again.
“SURPRISE! Yeah, right! I’d send one right back that would direct them to the middle of the river, or better yet, Flathead Lake. Go jump in the lake, guys!”
She thought about that for a bit and realized she hadn’t checked her email in days, nor had she turned on the satphone. Maybe they’ve actually been by to visit when she was away. Okay. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. She grabbed the satphone and went outside.
She waited five minutes for the phone to power up, find the satellites, and then to determine if there was any voice mail. She glanced at the lodge, eerie in the splashes of yard lights. She didn’t want to go in there in the middle of the night to check her email. It was probably locked anyway. She’d do it first thing in the morning. She looked down at the satphone. There was no voice mail.
Back inside she paced a bit more and then grabbed her computer and climbed up to her loft bedroom. After readying for bed she pulled the computer onto her lap and returned to her journal.
Well, Mom, I’ve got quite a dilemma here. They’re determined to get me involved in their craziness. Don’t they listen to my words? No means no. Can’t they get that? Now they’ve hauled this entire operation, this monster, all the way across the country assuming that they’ll be able to entice me into joining them. That had to have cost Grandfather a ton.
It’s a monster all right; like Frankenstein’s monster. They’re creating a monster and they’ve got it in their heads that I’m a necessary ingredient in their monster recipe. And it’s only because I have the knowledge, I’m related to a previous victim – you, I am a previous victim, and probably most important to Grandfather, I’m the right size. If I was the size of The Dweeb, would Grandfather have bothered with me?
So, Mom, what do I do? Should I wait until they contact me and then tell them where they can stick the whole project? Or should I walk in on them and ask them what the hell they are doing here?
She considered that question for a long time after closing the computer and placing it on the floor, after turning the light off, after pulling the covers up to her chin, and kept on considering it while staring up at the black ceiling. I already know what they’re doing here. The question is, what am I going to do about it?
And then after a very long time, she fell asleep.
Chapter 38
June 14, 2007
“It isn’t fair. We get married and you leave me.”
“You want a divorce?”
“No! I want you. I didn’t marry the Marines.”
“I was a Marine when you married me.”
“You weren’t a Marine when you proposed. As a matter-a-fact, you never talked about anything like it. You were going to continue after your masters with me.”
“Things changed.”
“What changed?”
He shrugged. “Life. Priorities.”
“I am not a priority in your life anymore?” She spat the words at him, her rage tempered only by the awareness of people moving around them.
He looked up at the vaulted airport ceiling. “Annie, that’s not fair.”
“Fair! What’s not fair is you running off to fight a stupid war six months after we’re married. That is so unfair it’s crazy. Yes, maybe I do want a divorce. Why should I have to be alone while you do what you think you have to do?”
Tony grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. She pushed his arms up and away like a prizefighter breaking a hold. “Just go!” She stepped back. “I hope the hell you get killed!”
In one fluid motion Annie threw off the bed covers and sat straight up, her heart racing; sweat running in rivulets down her back, but the nightmare wouldn’t stop.
“I hope the hell you get killed!” She stomped 20, 30, 40 paces away before stopping and looking back. He didn’t follow after her; instead he stepped up to the security station, and that made her even angrier. She could only get glimpses of him as people rushed and meandered across her line-of-sight. His travel bag was in the tray, ready to be pushed into the x-ray machine. He emptied his pockets into a second tray and then slipped out of his shoes and picked them up. With his shoes in one hand and his boarding pass in the other, he turned to look at her one last time. At that moment the people parted and for just a few seconds there was no one between them. He displayed the Tony grin, held up his shoes in a farewell greeting, mouthed something she assumed was “I love you,” and then dropped the shoes into the tray, pushed the tray into the x-ray behind his pack, and turned to the body scanner. The security woman on the other side immediately waved him through.
Annie fell forward in her bed and cried. He probably never really said those words, the ones she assumed he mouthed. In actuality he probably said, “Go to hell,” and his grin was probably not a happy grin, but an evil grin. Not that she blamed him. The blame was all on her. She’s the one who wished him dead. She’s the one who walked away before they were able to say a proper good-bye, before she was able to tell him she loved him, before he was able to say the same to her.
Even if he did mouth, “I love you” just before walking through security, she never made the attempt to mouth it back. Instead she just stood there like a stone cold angry bitch while he walked off to the death that she wished upon him.
Chapter 39
June 14, 2007
Annie was up, sitting on her sofa with her mug in hand, staring off into nothing when Mary knocked and came in. She stopped and stared for a couple of seconds before saying, “Rough night, Luv?”
Annie nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Tony?”
She nodded again.
“Come on, then. Good time to greet the new day.”
Annie didn’t move; only continued staring.
“Or would you rather go back to bed?”
She shook her head. “No. I . . . Nightmares.”
Mary stepped forward and took Annie’s hand. “Let’s go warm the log and you can tell me about it.”
With no resistance Annie stood, put on her coat, and then followed Mary out the door. She sucked in a breath of the crisp morning air. “Richard sleeping in again?”
Mary sighed. “As always.”
They said nothing more until they were at the river. Instead of sitting on the log, they stood at the water�
�s edge and stared at the increasing glow over the top of the mountain. “What would you do if you could get in a time machine and go back to before William died?” Annie said.
Mary thought for a moment. “That would be easy. I’d call him up and tell him not to come, or I’d tell him to come a day later, or that we would go to his home for Christmas.”
“How would you handle the fact that you might run into yourself, your future self meeting your past self?”
“I guess I didn’t think of that. I would have to give myself a hug and say, ‘At last I’ve found my long, lost twin, separated from me at birth to fulfill the dreams of a young couple who were barren and childless. I have come to find you so as to make my life complete, and to save your son and your grandchild.’”
Annie looked over at her. “Seriously?”
Mary twisted her head around to look at Annie. Annie forced a grin. Mary took her arm and turned them away from the river, toward the sitting log. When they were seated she said, “Tell me about your nightmare.”
Annie balanced her travel mug of coffee on the log and then leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and her eyes on the ground. “It’s nothing new. I’ve had it many times. It’s the replay of the last moments at the airport with Tony. The things I didn’t say to him.” She put her face in her hands and then pushed her fingers through her hair, dropping her head until her chin nearly touched her chest and she was almost in a fetal position. “The terrible thing that I did say.”
Mary caressed the back of Annie’s exposed neck. “What did you say to him, Annie?”
“I said that . . .” She started crying, considered trying to change the subject or just walking away. In the end she gave up. “I said that . . . I hoped he got killed.” With that Annie collapsed onto Mary’s lap, sobbing. “I’ve got to go back. I’ve got to unsay it.”
“I know.” Mary bent forward to put her arms completely around Annie and then lost control of her own tears. “I know.”
Fifteen minutes later they were still sitting on the log, no longer crying, just holding hands and staring out over the river. Mary said, “Tell me about Tony. How did you meet? What was your wedding like? What’s the funniest thing you can remember about him?”
Annie told her about his planting of the CD player in the Stratton Lounge ceiling, also called Airport Lounge, which later became Caschetta Lounge, and how that was when she met him, and how he didn’t really meet her for another two years. “I loved him from afar, without his knowing it,” she said. “Without his knowing me.”
“But finally he did meet you, obviously, and then what?”
“We started dating. After a year, he asked me to marry him.”
“What did your dad think?”
“He was never sure about Tony and didn’t jump up and down over the engagement, but he knew better than to try to go against me. We were married on the first day of July. I was eighteen.” She went silent for a moment, and then added, “I can’t believe it hasn’t even been a year yet. It wasn’t a big wedding. I didn’t want anything lavish. His parents came down from Vermont, along with his brother and some aunts and uncles. I had dad and Grandfather, some friends, and of course my Godparents.”
“Godparents?”
“A bunch of old people, though I love them dearly. It’s more like a God crowd. Some are related; some are not.”
“Really!”
“Yeah. They took on their titles after my mother died. All but two are still alive. Let’s see . . . originally there were Great-grandmother and Grandfather Frick. I do remember them both, especially Francine Frick. She died in her nursing home five years ago. Great-grandfather Frick fell down his porch step in ’95 and never recovered. I was eight years old.” Annie thought about the stories she could tell about Nathaniel Samuelson Frick, the German spy who once saved Hitler’s life, whose life her mother saved, only to lose her own. “He was a retired sheriff,” was all that she revealed to Mary.
“There still are Aunt Gracy and Uncle Henry Johnston. Henry is my first cousin twice removed. He was a Florida Senator. Gracy was New York Congresswoman Gracy Keeton until she retired and they got married. I was the flower girl at the wedding, just old enough to understand what was going on. Uncle Henry just retired finally. They live in Florida now. There is Papa Hair, my mother’s father and a definite influence on my life, not always to my agreement. I just call him Grandfather now.” Her thoughts shifted for a second upriver to where Grandfather was likely still asleep in his RV. “Last but not least are Uncle James and Aunt Abby, James and Abigail Lamric. They live in Charlotte, North Carolina. James is a retired police officer and Abigail is a retired nurse. They are the two who aren’t related, but probably the first who would be by my bedside if I should break a fingernail, or else they’d battle their way past Aunt Gracy and Uncle Henry. They are my true Godparents. I love them dearly.
“All together, though, they are all my Godparents. They were all present when my mother died and they vowed to watch over me.”
“Sounds like a star-studded cast.”
Annie nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Once a year, in the week around November 14, the anniversary of my mother’s death, they all get together with dad and me at a joint owned beach house on Martha’s Vineyard.”
“Joint owned?”
Annie hadn’t, for a long time, thought about the offshore corporation that held the wealth of her family and all the godparents. It was in the 70s that Broad Horizons was formed by her Great-grandfather Frick and Admiral Harris, along with most of her Godparents—before they became Godparents—in order to, first: protect the growing wealth of all the members, and second: to finance the creation of the time travel experiment which eventually sent her mother—the person who knowingly and unknowingly told of future companies and what stocks to buy and not to buy and thus became responsible for all their wealth—back to 1943. The corporation was dissolved after her mother’s return and subsequent death, as required in the corporate by-laws. However, there was nothing in the by-laws about not forming a new corporation, so Atlantic Horizons LLC was born and was now worth several billion dollars.
“Actually, the company owns it. They’re all board members.”
“Oh. What company is that?”
Annie opened her mouth to respond and then froze. Do Grace, Henry, James and Abigail know what Grandfather is doing? Of the four mad scientists in their time travel lab up river, only Grandfather is a member of the board.
“Luv? You all right?”
Broad Horizons was formed to build and oversee the time travel project. Atlantic Horizons, which was formed in Broad Horizons’ wake, might also have a mission other than to protect everyone’s money.
Annie suddenly noticed Mary’s hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep much. Very tired.” Or has Grandfather gone Maverick and struck out on his own?
“I’ve got some Rozerem. It’ll help you settle into a solid sleep without nightmares, and you won’t feel like you’ve been drugged.”
“I don’t know. I don’t even like taking aspirin.” Do they, the rest of the board, know about what the one of their illustrious members is doing?
“That’s good, dear, but when you need it, you need it. This is twice you haven’t looked well in the morning.”
Dad certainly doesn’t know and he’s also a board member whose seat I’m to take over upon his death. What about Wilson Harris, III, Admiral Harris’ grandson and the seventh board member? Does he know what is going on? She picked up her mug and stood. “Thanks, but no thanks. I should be able to sleep now. I think I’ll skip breakfast and go straight back to bed.”
Mary stood and put her arms around Annie. “Good idea, Luv. But if you can’t sleep, you come see me.”
Annie watched out her cabin window as Mary and Richard walked up to the lodge for breakfast. She hated lying to Mary. She certainly was exhausted past the point of hunger, but instead of climbing into bed she made another pot of coffee, drank a mug while she waited and
then refilled it. When she was sure they were settled in the lodge Annie slipped on her backpack, picked up the mug and headed out. At the river she turned north.
Chapter 40
June 14, 2007
There were several chairs stationed around a brand new Blackstone griddle on wheels in front of the tent, all of which were in the middle of the triangle formed by the Yukon, RV and trailer. Annie rested her pack next to one of the chairs, surveyed the camp, and then sat. Her coffee was still warm. She sipped it, placed the mug in the holder in the arm of the chair and waited. It was 7:22.
She was surprised that someone wasn’t already up. Maybe they were all late sleepers seeing as they were still up at midnight, or at least three of them were. Her grandfather, always known to be an early riser, may have already been asleep.
She wished she could see inside the RV. She wished even more that she could see inside the trailer. There had to be a wormhole chamber, a photon tube, a magnetron, computers, power grids, hell . . . a fully functional nuclear power plant. She stood and walked to the platform and then climbed the steps. The art over the door was interesting only for the play on words. Otherwise, she didn’t like it, couldn’t imagine why her grandfather did either; wasn’t his style. She analyzed the thumbprint reader and the entry keypad, wondered if it was secure enough.
She walked back down the steps.
The water pump was still sitting where she had seen it the morning before, but one of the fire hoses now ran under the trailer. She bent down to follow it to its connection and then walked along the trailer until she could look up at the huge unit hanging off the front end. Had to be the auxiliary generator because the main generator would be much larger, near thirty feet long, she guessed. That meant that the power plant took up over half of the trailer. How did Grandfather make it work? Was it secure? Was it safe? Was it adequately shielded?
Of course it was. He wouldn’t do it any other way. What’s the power output? How have they tested it . . . the power plant . . . the time machine; other than sending her a satphone?
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