Waking in Time

by Angie Stanton

  “Of course I will, but slow down. Allow me to take you to lunch. You must be getting hungry, and the food of this time is delicious.”

  Will isn’t going to blow me off by running to some meeting or class like Professor Smith did. Will wants to spend time with me, and that’s a huge relief. He gets what I’ve been going through, and that knowledge is a huge weight off my shoulders. Finally, I can take a breath and relax for a minute knowing I’m with a fellow time traveler, of all things. “Sure. I’d like that.”

  Will offers his hand to help me up, and I tentatively accept it. My hand fits perfectly in his gentle grip, yet I notice his hands are calloused. There’s nothing I want more than to go home, and maybe this handsome farm boy has some idea of how to get me there. But at this moment, all I care about is that I’m no longer alone in this craziness.

  We walk side by side, our shoes crunching on the gravel path. Will looks at me often, like he’s trying to make sure I’m real. I wish I shared the memories he has of us.

  “Tell me how we meet,” I say.

  He smiles and his eyes go glassy as he remembers. “It was spring, the tulips were in bloom, and I was fishing.”

  “That sounds nice. Where are you from?”

  “A small town up north called Ephraim.”

  “So what was a small-town farm boy doing going to college?”

  His jaw tightens for a moment, then relaxes. “It’s complicated, but I couldn’t imagine my future revolving solely around crops, livestock, and the weather. All my life I’ve been curious, with a longing to learn about history, science, and mathematics. My father disagreed, of course. He felt the only book a man needed to read was the Bible. I was desperate for more, so I left.”

  Will said it with such finality, as if it were a simple decision, but it must have been a pretty big deal. “Did he come after you?”

  “He couldn’t, not with the cows needing to be milked twice a day. My sister, Agnes, wrote and told me he was very angry. Can’t say that I blame him. With me gone, Father had only Agnes and Mother to help with the livestock.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you to leave them.”

  “That it was,” he says wistfully, bending to pluck a fresh blade of grass.

  Will grows quiet and I wonder what he isn’t telling me. What has he been through? What are the secrets that he keeps? But he doesn’t offer more, so I change the subject.

  “When did you first… travel?” I glance around to make sure no one overhears, but the students we pass are going about their normal 1961 lives, clueless that two time travelers are lurking in their midst.

  “A few weeks after I arrived at school.” He looks away. I know the pain he feels, because it’s mirrored in my own heart.

  “So you traveled forward? I’ve only traveled back in time.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know, but I believe the bells of the Carillon Tower have something to do with it,” he says.

  “Yes!” I say, excited that he’s noticed this too. “The bells are the only thing that I know for sure happened each time. We should go check it out. See if there’s something there to give us a clue.”

  He shakes his head. “We’ve tried that.” He gives me a wry smile and my stomach flips, but I brush the thought away. I don’t need to fall for him and complicate my life more.

  Will continues. “I even talked to the bell player. Of course, I didn’t ask if he was sending me forward in time, but I did ask a lot of questions, and I learned that he never plays at night.”

  “But someone must be.”

  We stop at an intersection and wait for the light to change. Cars rumble past, emitting smelly exhaust fumes that would never pass carbon emission inspections in my time. The back of my dress sticks to my skin in the humidity.

  “What about the professor? Maybe he can look into it if we can find him,” Will suggests.

  I stop short. “You know Professor Smith too?”

  Will turns and comes back to me. When he registers my confusion, he pushes a hand through his hair. “I keep forgetting we don’t share the same history yet. Most of my knowledge of him is from what you’ve told me. I met him briefly when he was a student, but he knew nothing of our time travels then.”

  “You’re the other time traveler he mentioned!”

  “I hope there aren’t any others. This is complicated enough,” he chuckles.

  “Is this the first time we’re all in the same place at the same time?” I blow the stray hair that’s fallen in my face. I feel wilted, but the heat doesn’t seem to affect Will.

  “I guess so. You’ve seen him already?”

  “Right before I saw you. And I’ll see him again later today, I hope. He thinks my dorm room has something to do with my travel.”

  “That’s good.”

  “But why hasn’t my roommate traveled with me?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve wondered the same thing about my roommates. I just landed in this time yesterday. I tried to find the professor but couldn’t track him down. I went to his office hours this morning, but he didn’t show. Apparently he was with you.” He smiles at me. “So,” he goes on, “it seems we have a few hours to dally away…”

  I let a giggle slip out. It feels good to have an emotion other than sheer terror and confusion for a change.

  “What?” he asks. “Grass in my teeth?”

  “Dally. It’s so old-fashioned.”

  His impish grin returns. “I guess I’m an old-fashioned fella. Trust me, you get used to it. Come along.”

  I sneak peeks at Will when he’s not looking. He’s lean and fit, with muscled arms. It must be from working on a farm. His skin is tan and his hair streaked blond from the sun. I notice a few stray hairs on the curve of his jaw where he missed shaving. Was he in a hurry today, anxious to meet me? He said he knew where I’d be.

  We go to Rennebohms, a combination drug store and malt shop. The smell of hamburgers and grilled onions greets us as he opens the door for me. A long gray Formica counter with shiny red stools runs the length of one wall. Waitresses wearing crisp white aprons and little white caps hustle around in white sneakers, waiting on the customers.

  Will leads me across the black-and-white checkered floor, past the counter to a cozy booth. My eyes scan the menu: egg sandwich… Heinz soup? Liver sausage sandwich? Yuck. But I spot a Bucky burger that sounds safe.

  “Twenty-five cents for a burger? The prices are amazing!” I say.

  “Not to me,” he laughs. “I’m used to a ten-cent sandwich and a five-cent cup of coffee.”

  A gum-snapping waitress arrives with water glasses. “What can I get ya?” She wears a lime-green nylon scarf tied around her neck and no makeup besides orangey-red lipstick.

  Will gestures for me to go first. I order the Bucky burger, fries, and a chocolate malt. He orders the same.

  “This place is wild. Talk about a blast from the past,” I say.

  He laughs at the expression and watches me with such contentment on his face.

  Sitting across the booth, we’re forced to look at each other, which is both good and bad. He’s certainly easy on the eyes, but he keeps staring at me like I’m a figment of his imagination, like he wants to somehow confirm that I’m real. Am I living up to his expectations? I nervously tear the edge of my napkin until it ends up with a border of fringe.

  “So tell me, if you keep coming forward, do you ever visit your family? They must have freaked when they first saw you looking the same.”

  Will bites his lip and shakes his head. “No. I never saw them again.”

  “Why not?” I can’t imagine not being with Mom again if I had the chance.

  “A few weeks after school started, I received a telegram that a smallpox outbreak hit my town. It was bad, and a lot of
people died. Including my family.” Will looks away.

  “Your whole family? I’m so sorry.” I stare at my shredded napkin, at a total loss of what to say. I lost my mom in time, but I believe that if I can get back home, she’ll still be there. Will’s family is gone forever.

  He’s quiet, and I don’t want to invade his privacy. Finally he says softly, “It was a terrible thing. I planned to go home and give them a proper burial, take over the farm.”

  I look at him in surprise. He’d taken such a huge step to run away from that life, and yet he was willing to go back to it.

  He seems to read my thoughts and shrugs. “There was no one else to do it.” He takes a sip of water, seeming to gather himself. “But the next morning when I woke, a different fellow slept in my roommate’s bed, and it turned out I had traveled forward an entire year.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It’s in the past, and there’s nothing to be done about it.” We sit silently, his hands folded on the table in front of him. “I didn’t mean to ruin our lunch.”

  I lay my hand over his. “You haven’t. Waking up with a stranger in the next bed was pretty much how it happened for me.”

  He gives my hand a squeeze. “I know.” His blue eyes sparkle with kindness and a history I don’t yet know. Apparently we’ve had this conversation before.

  The waitress arrives with our lunch, and Will and I spend the next two hours at the diner, deep in conversation. He already seems to know everything about me, but I am desperate to know more about him. I discover that he loves rowing on the crew team, that he had a favorite milking cow named Gertie, and that he has a thirst for learning, which time travel has been interfering with.

  “Did you ever make it back home then, since everything happened?” I ask gently, biting the straw of my long-gone malt.

  “Yes, when I got my bearings after my first… trip, I wanted to see what had become of my father’s farm and if anything remained. All the livestock had been sold, including my horse.”

  “Nellie,” I sigh sadly, already feeling a sense of kinship. “How could that happen?”

  He shrugged. “The bank repossessed everything. It had been well over a year. The animals needed immediate care, so others took care of them, and I’m grateful for that.”

  “Don’t you have any other relatives—grandparents or aunts and uncles?”

  “I do, back in Norway, but I’ve never met them. My parents came over before I was born.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  It strikes me that Will is as alone in this world as I am.

  CHAPTER 7

  Later, in the Liz Waters “date parlor” (as Mom called it), Will drums his fingers on the arm of the wingback chair. I pace as we wait for Professor Smith. Girls come and go from the adjoining library, each straining her neck to get a good look at this cute guy I’m with. I notice a framed portrait of John F. Kennedy on the wall.

  Will taps his foot on the polished floor.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask.

  “Excited. This is the best thing to happen in a long while. That is, other than finding you.” He gives me a lingering smile, and I wonder again about our supposed history.

  A familiar-looking girl with short, curled brown hair and thick glasses approaches. It takes a moment before I realize it’s my roommate, Janice. With her are some girls I don’t recognize. “Abigail, who’s your visitor?” she coos.

  They all gaze at Will with his tanned skin and brilliant blue eyes as if he’s fresh meat on the marriage market, and they’re a pack of carnivores.

  “Just a friend,” I say, hoping they’ll leave.

  “Oh good.” Janice grabs my arm with her clammy hand. “Introduce me.”

  I roll my eyes but play along. “Will, this is my roommate, Janice. Janice, this is Will. He’s, he’s—” I’m not exactly sure what to say.

  “I’m Abbi’s steady.” Will stands to greet her, stretching his lean body to full height.

  I do a double take at his word. So does Janice.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Janice,” he says, unleashing a charming smile.

  Confused, she turns to me and hisses. “But you said—”

  Will slips his arm around my waist and lets it linger on my hip. The warmth of his hand seeps through my dress like a red-hot brand. “Abigail is afraid her parents will find out about us, so she doesn’t like to tell people. You see, I’m Catholic and they would never approve.”

  For a second I stare at him, dumbfounded. He gives me a quick squeeze, and I catch on. “Please, don’t tell,” I whisper to Janice.

  Janice’s jaw drops into an open-mouthed smile, apparently pleased to be in on our little scandal. “I promise.”

  “See you later then.” I urge her and her posse to move on out.

  “Bye, Will,” she calls and heads upstairs, posse in tow.

  “That is the lamest reason I’ve ever heard for a parent’s disapproval.” I turn toward Will and find myself conveniently in his arms.

  He smiles down at me, enjoying the proximity. “It’s a legitimate reason for us not to be together, and Janice believed it.”

  My hand rests on the soft fabric of his shirt. A small patch of golden chest hair peeks out near his collar. “So, you’re my steady?”

  “Yes, I am,” he says with a sureness that sends a zing through me.

  “We’ll see about that,” I counter, but I have a feeling that, at least in his mind, he’s telling the truth.

  Professor Smith appears around the corner with a large black case in hand. I jump away from Will as if I’ve been caught in the act. Will gives me a smug nod, which I ignore.

  “Professor! It’s so good to see you.” I step to join him. I know he promised to come, but after last time, when the bombing kept us apart, I don’t count on anything to go as planned.

  Will stays put, watching the professor closely.

  “Hello, Abbi,” Professor Smith says cheerfully, then glances at Will and startles. “Good gracious!”

  Will smiles broadly. “You remember me?”

  “Dear Lord, yes.” The professor stares at him in disbelief, digesting this new tangle.

  “It’s Will,” Will prompts and holds out his hand.

  The professor comes forward and shakes it vigorously. “This is amazing—just incredible to have you both here. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

  Studious girls with curious eyes and conservative dresses peek their heads out of the library to see what all the commotion is about. It must not be everyday that a professor appears in the date parlor.

  Professor Smith frowns at their interest and waves us out of the room. “I think we’d better find somewhere more private. How about the patio?”

  I nod and lead the way. Clouds have rolled in, along with a brisk breeze that offers relief from the stifling hot day. Thankfully no one else is outside at the moment. Professor Smith sets down his bulky case, and we sit at a wrought iron patio set. He keeps glancing at Will and shaking his head.

  “This is a monumental day. Will, a fella I met sophomore year, is here in 1961 with Abbi, my old—”

  “Thorn in your side?” I offer.

  “I was going to say old friend,” he says with a tilt of his head.

  “Oh, that too.”

  “It’s great to see you again,” Will says with a huge grin, as relieved as I am to have the professor in our presence.

  “It’s mind-boggling. Both of you look exactly as you did the last time I saw you. That is, except the clothes. No one would suspect you don’t belong here.”

  I stare down at my boxy cotton dress and ugly shoes. I might blend in, but I sure don’t fit in.

  “You, mate, do not look nineteen,” Will laughs, taking in the professor’s scholarly tweed jacket, white button-down shirt, and slacks. All he needs is a pocket protector
to complete his look.

  “I suppose I don’t. I’m married with three kids and another one on the way.” There’s a glint of pride in his voice.

  “Holy cow!” Will shakes his head in disbelief.

  “When love calls, anything can happen. Even to a boring chap like me.” The professor grins. “Abbi, why didn’t you tell me Will was here?”

  Before I can speak, Will answers. “She didn’t know, at least not until a couple of hours ago.”

  The professor raises an eyebrow. I nod to confirm Will’s story. “Apparently he and I have a history together,” I say. I recall his delicious kiss from earlier and look down at the concrete patio blocks in hopes of hiding the blush that creeps up my neck. Will leans back with a cocky grin.

  Professor Smith removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. “All right, Will. You’d better start from the beginning. Perhaps putting together both your experiences will be the key I need.”

  Will begins telling the professor what he’d told me. The professor writes frantically in a notebook, recording all the details.

  But then Will stops and says casually, “Perhaps you and I can meet later and I can go into more specifics.” I see Will catch the professor’s eye.

  He’s holding something back. I’m sure of it, but I can’t imagine why.

  “Of course, of course,” the professor says, picking up on Will’s clandestine meaning.

  The breeze gusts, whipping my hair around. “Hey, anything you tell the professor, you can tell me. I need to know this stuff too.” But the professor ignores me, which is unlike him.

  “Listen, I spoke with the director of housing, and he’s called the head resident.” He checks his watch. “She should be waiting now to escort me to your dorm room.” He closes his notebook and returns it to his case.

  I want to call them both out about keeping secrets from me but decide not to get into it right now. Instead I ask what he’s hoping to find in my room.

  “Perhaps there will be something that offers a clue as to why your room is serving as a portal for travel. But Will, I’m afraid you won’t be able to join us.”