Time Tsunami

by Danele J Rotharmel

  Seeing William’s quirked eyebrow, she laughed. “I thought the cooking part was strange too.” Her eyes glowed. “But inside the envelope was a full-ride scholarship to NSU.”

  Gil smiled over at Poppa. “There wasn’t any contact information, so I couldn’t thank you. But your gift changed my life!”

  “No one deserved it more,” the old man replied.

  She gave Poppa a dimpled grin. “I kept my promise—I have the cookbook memorized.”

  Poppa chuckled and changed the bandage on her hand. “Good, I knew you would.”

  “I always wondered why you gave me the scholarship,” she said slowly. “It was such a huge gift, and—”

  “Stop wondering,” Twinkles said firmly, giving Gil’s shoulder a pat. “Poppa and I have more than enough money to spread around. Investing some in you was pure pleasure.”

  * * *

  Crystal sat outside the director’s office and anxiously wrung her hands. She’d tried to confess her infraction earlier, but the director hadn’t been able to talk with her. By the time he’d arranged to see her, she’d worked herself into a nervous tizzy.

  Crystal looked up in shock as raised voices came from the director’s office. As the argument continued, she heard enough to realize that someone was upset about Gil’s time surf. Trying to ignore her curiosity, she began to hum The Banana Boat Song. She was giving her Day-Os extra oomph when the director’s door flew open.

  “I don’t care what you say,” Dr. Moosly growled, stomping past Crystal’s chair. “It’s unforgiveable that I’ve been left out of the loop. When I get to the bottom of things, I won’t be silent about what I find!”

  Leaning up against the wall, Director Matthews said in an expressionless voice, “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “You’d better! I’m compiling a report on Dr. Ableman’s infractions, and I’m starting one on you too!”

  “By all means, go ahead.”

  Dr. Moosly shook his finger in the director’s face. “Something’s going on!”

  “Perhaps it isn’t what you think,” Dr. Nelson said softly, emerging from the office.

  “Perhaps it’s exactly what I think!” Dr. Moosly shouted, slamming the hallway door.

  Crystal watched as Dr. Nelson looked at Director Matthews and raised her eyebrows. The director gave a noncommittal grunt. “Miss Stuart,” he said, “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. We’re ready for you now.”

  Rising from her chair, Crystal said uncertainly, “If this is a bad time...?”

  “Not at all,” the director assured her. “Do you mind if Dr. Nelson joins us?”

  Crystal hesitated. “Does she know about Condition Gold?”

  Nodding, the director motioned for Crystal to enter his office. When the door was closed and they were seated, he said, “Now, what exactly is the problem?”

  Crystal took a deep breath. “I had an accident in the archives. One of the boxes broke open and some papers spilled out.”

  The director steepled his fingers. “The box belonged to a Condition Gold case subject?”

  Crystal nodded.

  “Which one?”

  Hesitating, she looked pointedly at Dr. Nelson.

  The director smiled. “You may talk freely.”

  “It was A-Andrew H-Hamilton’s box.” Crystal gulped.

  “I see,” he said. “How much did you read?”

  “Enough to know that I shouldn’t be s-seeing what I s-saw.” Crystal’s face turned bright red. “At first, I only read enough to put the papers in order, but then I started to get curious.” Looking up at the director, she confessed, “I read three pages of the Poppa Report on purpose.”

  “You didn’t read it all?”

  She shook her head. “I realized that what I was doing was wrong. Mr. Hamilton’s box needs to be sealed again. I think all five of his boxes should be assigned a different place in archives.”

  “Five boxes? How do you know there are more than one?”

  Crystal pushed at her glasses. “There are five boxes with the same fourteen-digit identification number on their lids. I assume the number’s Andrew Hamilton’s name in Prinkleton’s numerical code—but that’s just a guess of course.”

  The director raised his eyebrows. “It’s a good one. You’re the only person other than the designers of the archives to make the Prinkleton connection.”

  Crystal shifted uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny. “I didn’t try to break the code on purpose. The solution just popped into my head while I was brushing my teeth.”

  “I understand, but don’t mention the Prinkleton connection to your classmates.”

  “Of course.” Crystal bit her lip. “So you’ll take care of the box?”

  The director nodded. “Information about Mr. Hamilton is too important to mishandle.”

  As the director stared at her, Crystal squirmed. “I know I was wrong to read the Poppa Report without permission. I’m willing to accept any disciplinary action you deem fit.”

  “Any action?”

  Nodding slowly, she said in a scared voice, “I deserve to be punished, but I hope my punishment isn’t expulsion—I’d hate to be expelled.”

  Giving a ghost of a smile, Director Matthews said gently, “I think we can forgo discipline as long as you promise not to do it again.”

  “Oh, I do! I really do!”

  As relief flooded Crystal’s face, the director said in a deceptively mild voice, “Did Mr. Kerry read the files as well?”

  She shook her head. “Marc was there when the box fell, but not when I picked up the papers. He didn’t see anything.”

  “Good.” Crystal watched as the director began rolling a pencil between his thumb and index finger. After a moment, he asked, “So, are you and Mr. Kerry working well together?”

  Crystal bit her lip and remained silent.

  “Miss Stuart, I asked you a question. Answer it.”

  “Marc’s a hard worker,” she said in a brittle voice. “I couldn’t ask for a more conscientious colleague. He grasped the concept of archival filing quickly. He does his duties well. We’ve gotten through a tremendous amount of work.”

  Crystal saw the director looking at her with narrowed eyes. “Are you enjoying him as a coworker?” he asked.

  “Like I said—Marc’s competent.”

  “How competent?”

  “Extremely,” she said baldly.

  The director’s lips twitched. “How do you feel about him personally?”

  Raising her eyes, she said slowly, “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

  “It’s relevant if I say it’s relevant.”

  Crystal’s eyes took on an angry glint. “I choose to disagree. My personal feelings are of no consequence. Marc and I may never be best friends, but as long as we can work together, that’s all that matters.”

  “I see.” The director put the pencil down on his desk. “Do you feel you could work with Mr. Kerry in the future?”

  “Of course I do. We’re professional enough to do our jobs.”

  The director inspected his fingernails. “If I decided to cut Mr. Kerry from the program how would you feel? Relieved?”

  “No,” Crystal said forcibly. “I’d feel as if you were making a grave mistake. I may not be the head of Marc’s fan club, but I’m smart enough to see he’s going to be a top-notch time counselor. If you let him go, you’d be a brain-dead fool!” Biting her lip, she said in a subdued voice, “Of course, I mean that statement most respectfully, sir.”

  A choked chuckle escaped the director’s lips. He cleared his throat and said mildly, “Of course.” Handing Crystal a file folder, he said, “On another subject, here’s something I’d like you to analyze over the summer.”

  Crystal opened the folder and thumbed through several pages of formulas.

  “Do you understand what you’re reading?” the director asked.

  She nodded and pushed at her glasses. “Someone’s obviously trying to create a portable GAP
computer. I thought a portable Staging Platform was theoretically possible, but I never envisioned anything on this scale. If this would work, it’d render the TEMCO lab virtually obsolete. Timewaves could be harnessed by the surfers themselves...” Crystal’s voice trailed as she reviewed the equations. Suddenly, she bit her lip.

  The director leaned forward. “What do you see?”

  “It’s what I don’t see,” she said in an uncomfortable voice. “These formulas are visionary, but there’s a notable gap in them. I see two glaring errors right off hand.”

  “Show me.”

  Laying the folder in front of the director, she pointed. “Here and here. See?” As he nodded, she said awkwardly, “I’m sorry to point them out, but they are rather obvious.”

  The director’s lips twitched. “Quite.” He smiled at her. “Actually, there are twenty-two mistakes in all—see if you can locate them. Next fall, we’ll get together and talk.”

  “Is this a test?” she asked curiously.

  “Let’s just say it’s a door of opportunity. If you can locate all the errors, perhaps I’ll show you the current revisions of the formulas.”

  Nodding, Crystal tucked the folder in her backpack.

  “Even though the formulas are flawed, Miss Stuart, they’re to be kept secret.”

  “I won’t breathe a word,” she said.

  “Good. Now, if there isn’t anything else, I believe there are some boxes in the archives waiting for your attention.”

  Turning to leave, Crystal said hesitatingly, “And Andrew Hamilton’s boxes...?”

  “I’ll personally take care of them today.”

  “Thank you,” Crystal said.

  As she left the office and the door started closing behind her, she heard Dr. Nelson saying in amazement, “It took us five months to find the two errors that Crystal just pointed out.”

  Crystal stopped dead in her tracks. She heard the director chuckling. “I told you she was smart.”

  As the door clicked shut, Crystal smiled and shouldered her backpack. Maybe being intelligent wasn’t so bad after all.

  * * *

  In Colorado, Sue held Sam’s hand as Poppa and Twinkles led them into a room filled with brightly wrapped packages.

  “What’s all this?” Sue asked in surprise.

  “Why don’t you peek in a box and find out?” Twinkles said in a mischievous voice.

  Obediently, Sue unwrapped a package containing an exquisite tea set. “Oh, how perfectly lovely!” she breathed.

  The old woman smiled. “I’m glad you like it. It’s yours.”

  “Mine?” Sue asked in a startled voice.

  “Call it a dowry, dear. Technically, these things will be yours and Sam’s.”

  As Sam gave a sudden bark of laughter, Poppa said, “Twinkles, you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  “Pshaw! We all know which way the wind’s blowing. Why beat around the bush?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Poppa laughed. “She’s right, you know.”

  Sue’s discomfort grew as Twinkles said briskly, “Sue, dear, your things were burned in that awful fire, and Sam’s only set up for rough housekeeping, so we decided to give you two an early wedding present.”

  “B-but S-Sam and I aren’t getting married,” Sue stuttered.

  “Of course you are! Of all the silly nonsense!”

  Sue blushed wildly. “B-but Sam hasn’t proposed. We just met.”

  “Fiddlesticks!” Twinkles said firmly. “Who needs formalities? Proposals are just fussbudget verbiage. From my viewpoint, you two have celebrated your fiftieth wedding anniversary—and lots more anniversaries after that. Of all the silly blathering. Of course you’re getting married! Now, open another box—you too, Sam.”

  “I’m not sure...” Sue said hesitatingly.

  “What’s to be sure about?” Twinkles demanded. “Here, open this one.”

  Obediently, Sue and Sam began opening presents. Every time Sue tried to stop, Twinkles pushed another box in her hands.

  “It’s too much,” Sue protested, opening a set of gold-rimmed dishes. “Way too much.”

  “Nonsense.” Twinkles laughed. “And that’s not all. There’s a rental truck out back. The king bed we bought you is simply scrumptious.”

  Sue winced and glanced over at Sam. He was standing with his mouth slightly open.

  “Now don’t worry, Sam,” Twinkles said, “we researched the dimensions of your house. All the furniture will fit—even the pool table Poppa insisted on buying. I didn’t see much use in a pool table, but Poppa said you’d like it.”

  “I will,” Sam said in a voice quivering with laughter. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank us,” Twinkles burbled. “We had lots of fun picking out the furniture. Besides, the best wedding present you’ll be getting is Sue. She’s gonna make you a perfect wife. There isn’t a nicer girl around, don’t you agree?”

  Sue squirmed at Twinkles’s demanding tone. As Sam nodded, the old woman tapped Sue’s shoulder. “See that? Sam thinks you’re wonderful. I’ll bet you think he’s special too.”

  Blushing vividly, Sue remained silent. As she opened the last gift—several sets of silk sheets—her face turned pale, and she refused to meet Sam’s eyes.

  “Come on,” Poppa said, giving his wife a grin. “These youngsters need some time alone.”

  As Sue quickly crammed the sheets back in their box, she saw Poppa pressing a tiny velvet case into the palm of Sam’s hand. As Sam looked at it in surprise, Poppa winked. Feeling completely mortified, Sue knelt and started repacking a set of pots and pans. Behind her, she heard the door close and Sam’s footsteps as he approached.

  “Can I give you a hand?” he asked.

  Ignoring him, she continued packing the box.

  Laying a hand on her shoulder, Sam said softly, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  Keeping her eyes on a frying pan, she replied in a tight voice, “I could just die—that’s what’s wrong! I’ve never been more humiliated in my life.”

  Sue felt Sam flinch. As he slowly drew his hand away, she looked up—his face was pale. “Are you embarrassed at being paired with me?” he asked quietly.

  “Of course not!” she exclaimed. “I could never be embarrassed of you.”

  A glad, gleaming light sprang into his eyes. “That’s a relief.” He chuckled. “It’d be a shame for you to spend the next fifty-some years married to someone you didn’t even like.”

  “It’s not nice of you to tease.”

  “Probably not, but you have to admit there’s quite a bit of humor in the situation.”

  “Not for me!”

  His smile died. “I can see that,” he said gently. “Can you tell me why?”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure you never expected your kindness to mushroom into something like this.” She pointed accusingly at a crystal serving dish. “As lovely as these things are, you can’t deny they’re wedding gifts.”

  Sam nudged a coffeemaker with his toe and grinned. “I was kinda tipped off by the white wrapping paper and silver bows.”

  Covering her face, Sue squirmed. “And them buying us a bed! I know they meant well, but I could die! Die right here on the spot! I promise I didn’t put them up to this.”

  “I never thought you did. I’m glad you don’t think I set it up.”

  “You’re way too honorable to think up a scheme like this.” She hunched a shoulder. “I can’t believe the way they were tossing me at your head. When they asked us to follow them in here, I never dreamed they were going to give us wedding gifts.”

  “I know, me either.”

  “I never even hinted to Twinkles that I thought you might propose. Twinkles did some hinting herself, but I never said a single word. I promise.”

  “I don’t think Twinkles needs hints. I think she sees things clearly for herself.”

  As Sue blushed and turned away, Sam knelt beside her and said, “I know what they did was unorthodox, but you don’t need t
o feel shy or embarrassed with me—not ever.”

  Sue looked up with a flushed face and troubled eyes. “But you’ve been so good to Danny and me. I’m sorry you’re being pushed and bothered like this.”

  Tenderly cupping her chin with his hand, he murmured, “Susie-Q, do I look like I’m being pushed or bothered?”

  Looking deeply into Sam’s blue eyes, Sue saw that there was no annoyance in them, only love—lots of love—with a tiny bit of laughter around the edges. Her blush deepened. “No matter how many gifts they’ve given us, we don’t have to be anything more than friends. I’ll let you out of this relationship.”

  “Do I look like I want out of it? Do you?”

  As Sue slowly shook her head and lowered her gaze, Sam ran his hands down her arms and gathered one of her hands in his. “I don’t feel pressured—I feel blessed.” His voice caught and shook. “You’re my pearl of great price—an unexpected treasure that I never hoped to find. You and Danny—it’s like we’ve always been together. I don’t want my life to be without you.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to—”

  “I want to.” He gave her a smile full of love. “I happen to think you’re pretty terrific.”

  As Sue reached up and slowly stroked his cheek, Sam’s eyes searched hers. “I know it’s awfully fast,” he whispered, “but would you consider...? Would you be willing...?”

  Watching a deep red blush climbing up his neck, she murmured softly, “What are you trying to say?”

  Sam’s blue eyes filled with tenderness and laughter. “I’m saying what Twinkles and Poppa knew all along I was going to say. They knew it when they put us in this room together.”

  “And that is...?”

  Sam trapped her hand within his own. “I’m already down on one knee if that gives you any hint.”

  “Stop hinting. Spell it out for me. Regardless of Twinkles’s opinion, I happen to like fussbudget verbiage.”

  Sam threw back his head and laughed. “In that case, Susanna Winston, will you marry me?”

  She gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m not sure.”

  “You minx.” He laughed. “Do you want me to beg?”