Time Tantrums

by Ginger Simpson

  His eyes wide, David interrupted. “That was an amazing thing to watch, but if someone’s unconscious, can they still see light? What about the one Mariah saw?”

  “What would cause a bright light on an open prairie in the daytime?” Dr. Ramone challenged him for an answer.

  He pondered for a moment. “The sun?”

  Dr. Ramone turned to look at Mariah. “Didn’t you say you heard a loud noise?”

  Mariah nodded. “Yes, very loud.”

  David snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! Thunder and lightning. Thunder would make the noise and lightning would flash in the darkness. Exactly what Mariah said happened.”

  The doctor nodded. “That’s one theory. Anything else?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing else comes to mind.”

  Mariah’s neck tired of turning from David to the doctor, and she grew impatient for a solution. “I had to be unconscious,” she cut in, “because I don’t remember how I got to the hospital… how I woke up in this century. Until today, I didn’t recall hearing anything, but now I keep hearing it over and over in my head. It had to be a clap of thunder before the lightning strike. Could this be the answer?”

  Dr. Ramone stared blankly ahead for a moment, massaging her top lip. “Possibly. Lightning causes static electricity, and static has been known to move objects. It is quite possible—although I wouldn’t want to share this outside this room—that the static electricity created some sort of time-warp phenomena.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Colorado Territory—1872

  Taylor wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. She stood with arms folded and surveyed the results of her labor. The wooden floors were spotless, the furniture, dust-free, and clean clothes filled the basket in the corner. Beaming, she stood back and admired her accomplishments. “Well, Taylor, see you can be domestic. I wouldn’t want to do it every day, but I have to admit, it does feel pretty rewarding. Won’t Mr. Cassidy be shocked?”

  Mentioning his name made her wonder where he was. He’d been gone all day and the stew intended for lunch still simmered on the stove. If he didn’t show up soon, the delicious meal she’d prepared might well be ruined.

  Crossing to the stove, she lifted the pot lid and stirred her masterpiece. She leaned into the rising mist to savor the aroma. Her nose wrinkled and she straightened. She bent to take another sniff. “Probably just needs more salt and pepper.”

  She picked up the shakers and liberally seasoned the stew, then replaced the lid. “There, I’ll bet that’s exactly what it needed.” She had no doubt she’d created something worthy of a top-notch chef.

  * * * *

  Taylor heard loud laughter before Frank and the ranch hands even passed under the big “C” on the gate. She wondered what they laughed about, but considered how men told tall tales and lies to one another. Working with a predominantly male staff had taught her well. How many times had she heard them swapping stories about their sexual conquests? She shivered as her night of passion with Frank flashed in her mind. She hoped he wasn’t sharing anything about her.

  He’d see to his horse before he came inside, but she struggled to justify her eagerness at his return. “He’s Home?” Home? She covered her mouth.

  She’d actually thought of this place as home! Taylor, don’t do this. This isn’t your home and he isn’t your husband. He’s a good friend and nothing more.

  She busied herself setting the table. Of course he was a good friend, and she was anxious for him to taste her grand stew. That explained her strange emotions. Silly her for thinking it something more. She turned and fixed a smile on her face when the door opened.

  Frank stomped the dust from his boots before he entered. As usual, he also slapped his hat against his pant leg. How strange, she predicted his actions beforehand. It was obvious he’d worked hard. A layer of gray dust covered his face and clothing. When he smiled, his pearly white teeth appeared from a dirt mask. “Evenin’.”

  Taylor laughed, holding her stomach and pointing. “Oh, you should see yourself. You look ridiculous. I couldn’t tell it was you until you smiled.”

  He assumed an indignant stance. “Well it’s hard to stay clean when you’re wrestling with steers all day.”

  “Don’t be a spoil sport. I was only kidding. And please, don’t track all that dirt in here.” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “I’ve worked these to the bone today.”

  Frank didn’t move, but he did glance around the room. “Oh lordy, she cleaned.”

  With hands on her hips, she cocked her head. “Yes, I did. And, what’s more, I made you dinner… actually lunch, but….”

  His head whipped around, and he looked at the steam rising from the kettle on the stove “Is that what I smell?” he asked.

  She arched her brow. “I hope you mean that in a positive way.”

  “Let me try that again. What is that wonderful aroma I smell?” His words were sweet but lacked enthusiasm.

  “That’s much better.” She smiled. “I’m anxious for you to taste what I’ve made, but you need a bath first. Take your clothes off right there—”

  “I’d be happy to,” he said as a wide smile crept across his face, “but I thought you wanted me to go up and take a bath. Make up your mind. Am I going to bathe, then eat or do you just want to see me nekked?”

  “No, I do not want to see you ‘nekked’, but I do want you to take those filthy clothes off before you track dirt everywhere. I wasn’t planning on watching. Just drop them and leave. I’ll go out and get some water for the tub.”

  “Well, if I drop them and leave, then you have to bring the water upstairs, and by that time, I will be nekked. How do you plan to avoid seein’ me then?” Clearly he took delight in teasing her.

  Taylor grabbed both sides of her hair and yanked. “You are so frustrating some times.”

  She went into the pantry to get the bucket and reappeared. “Here’s the plan,” she said in a calm and slow fashion. “I will go outside and get water. While I’m doing that, you take off your dirty clothes and scoot upstairs. I suppose while you’re waiting for the water you might want to get some clean clothes. A towel, perhaps. When the water is heated, I will bring it upstairs and leave it outside the door. I’ll knock to let you know it’s there, then leave. You open the door, pour the water in the tub, and take a bath. If you would like two buckets, we’ll repeat the process. Clear enough?” As she walked out the backdoor, with bucket in hand, she looked over her shoulder and added, “And while his majesty is in the bath, I’ll dish up his supper.”

  * * * *

  Frank came downstairs, feeling clean and refreshed. At the stove, Taylor ladled something into a bowl. He sat at the table and waited, for what he wasn’t sure. “I’m so hungry I could eat the hide off a cow.”

  She carried the bowl to the table and placed it before him like it was a prize he’d just won. Leaning over the spiraling steam, he inhaled. “Smells... interestin’.”

  Taylor filled her bowl and sat across from him. Instead of taking a taste, she sat, grinning, obviously waiting for him to sample the fare. He smiled and picked up his spoon, warily eyeing the bowl’s contents. He paused for a moment and eyed the somewhat greenish-looking concoction, before he tasted and swallowed. Not wanting to offend her, he quickly took another huge bite.

  A path of fire seared his tongue and burned down his throat. His eyes felt like they would blow out of their sockets. He blinked, hoping they wouldn’t and tried to tough out the pain, but couldn’t. He pushed back from the table so quickly his chair skidded backwards and toppled. He ran to the water pitcher, picked it up and chugged the cooling liquid until it was gone.

  Turning around, he clutched his throat. “What’s in that…?”

  “Stew.” A frown formed on Taylor’s face. “It’s only stew.”

  “What kind of stew?”

  She pushed her bowl away. “Why? Is it bad?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t tell ya. I didn’t have a cha
nce to taste it. I think it burned out my taste buds. What’s in it? Liquid fire?”

  She hung her head. “Vegetables. There’s onion, potato, some dried meat, and a jar of mixed vegetables I found in the pantry.” She looked up, a frown tugging at her lips.

  “Mixed vegetables? We don’t have any mixed vegetables.”

  “Yes you do.” There were two jars, but I only used one.”

  “Show me the other jar.”

  She crossed to the pantry and came out holding a small container. “This one.”

  Frank threw his head back and roared with laugher.

  Taylor’s bottom lip quivered. “I’m happy you find my attempt to surprise you so amusing.”

  He composed himself. “I truly appreciate all your effort, but sweetheart, those aren’t mixed vegetables. That’s pure jalapeño relish!”

  Taylor’s eyes welled, but she glared at him. “Well, I’m so sorry I couldn’t read that invisible label on it. I thought I was doing something nice, but I guess I was wrong.” She spun around and dashed up the stairs.

  * * * *

  Taylor sat on the edge of the bed and fumed. She was mad at herself for trying to impress Frank with her cooking skills when she didn’t have any.

  “How dare he laugh at me! That’s the last time I’ll cook anything for him,” she muttered.

  After thinking for a moment, she added, “That’s probably just fine with him.”

  She suddenly realized she’d forgotten to tell Frank the very thing she had waited all day to tell him, but she was far too mad to approach him now.

  A small tap sounded on the door. “I’m sorry.” Frank’s voice came from the other side. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I really do appreciate what you did today. Your stew would have been delicious if only... Well, your stew would have been delicious, I know. You’re probably too mad to talk, so I’m not going to bother you. But, I have a surprise for you tomorrow, so sleep well.”

  What surprise?

  Suddenly her thoughts became words. “What surprise?” she called out.

  “I’m taking you on a horseback ride tomorrow.”

  Before his words had a chance to sink in, she heard his bedroom door close. Reality dawned on her and she gasped. “That’s not a surprise, that’s… that’s a threat.”

  She went to the armoire and changed into her nightgown. Still fuming, she pulled back the quilt and climbed into bed, and slammed her fist into her pillow. “Horseback ride?” she grumbled. “Maybe when hell freezes over!”

  Chapter Thirty

  Denver, Colorado—2002

  David and Mariah left Dr. Ramone’s office with doubts about a third appointment. As he pulled out of the parking garage, Mariah stared vacantly out the car window at the people strolling along the sidewalk. She wondered if any of them were visitors from another era.

  She turned to David. “Now I’m even more confused and frustrated. Dr. Ramone believes I might be here because of something called a time warp, but I got the feeling she doesn’t know of another single soul who’s had the same misfortune. So, if we figured out the problem, what’s the solution?”

  He sighed loudly, and reached over to turn off the radio. “I don’t know. Time warps are something they make movies of or write about in books. I always thought it was just a bunch of baloney.”

  “Do you still feel that way?”

  “I’m not even sure how I feel. Everything you said under hypnosis reinforces the fact that you aren’t Taylor. Even if I consider you might be, why would a head trauma make you remember a whole other life? There has to be an explanation, and after today, I’m convinced you are who you say you are.”

  She sank into the softness of the seat and sighed. “Thanks for finally believing me, but even if you do, nothing changes the fact I’m still stranded in 2002. The family I love and want to be with is back in 1872. How am I going to get home?”

  David glanced over at her. His brow furrowed over saddened eyes. “I don’t know Mariah. I wish I did. I’m not even sure what good seeing Dr. Ramone again will do. She can’t create magic.”

  Mariah released a breath through pursed lips. “Maybe I should have another accident and hit my head again.”

  “Don’t say things like that. Don’t even think them.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

  “I feel so helpless. All I want to do is go home.”

  “I know. I want Taylor back, too. Now that I know you’re Mariah, I’m really worried about what happened to my wife. Are you in that body all alone or do you feel like you have company?”

  The idea of sharing a body sent a shiver down her spine. “Ugh, that’s a horrible thing to even think about. As far as I know, I’m all alone.”

  “Well, if you’re here, then wouldn’t it stand to reason Taylor is where you’re supposed to be?”

  Mariah hadn’t even thought of that. “Oh, my gosh. You may be right. Taylor is with Frank and my kids. Now I have something else to worry and wonder about.”

  He chuckled. “Can you imagine what Frank must be going through? Remember how I described Taylor? Oh the poor man. It wouldn’t be so bad, if he had known her from the beginning, but...”

  Mariah didn’t see the humor in Frank being with another woman. “Aren’t you even the least bit worried?”

  “Of course, I am. Until now I believed you were Taylor but there isn’t a whole lot I can do to change things. Rather than fall apart, I prefer to think she’s at least somewhere safe. After hearing all you’ve said about Frank, it doesn’t sound like he’d harm her in any way.”

  “He’s a wonderful man.” She sighed. “I’m sure Taylor’s safe and sound, but I wonder about Frank. If your wife is as independent and stubborn as you say, I think she may have met her match.”

  David fell silent and Mariah tried to apply all the things he’d told her about Taylor to the picture in her mind. All of a sudden, she remembered his description of his wife’s sexual appetite, and the hair on the back of her neck bristled. She chewed her bottom lip and stared vacantly through the windshield.

  She didn’t realize they were home until David drove into the garage and closed the door. As he reached to turn off the key, she turned to him. “Do you think they’ve been intimate?”

  David’s eyes widened. “I haven’t gotten that far in my thinking process, but now that you pose the question...” He rubbed his chin. “If Taylor is with Frank, they’ve been together as long as we have. I told you she is a very sexual being. If I had to wager a guess, it would have to be yes.”

  The thought of someone else in Frank’s arms stabbed her Mariah’s heart. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Of course it does. But if they’ve made love, I think I understand why.”

  “How can you understand?” She stiffened and blinked back tears.

  “Why can’t you?”

  “What do you mean?” The timed garage light clicked off and they were left in the dark. Although David sat next to her, he was barely visible. “Remember how I explained my feelings about you the night I came to your room? You look like Taylor, you walk like her, you feel like her, and I love my wife. I didn’t want to believe you weren’t her. I tried to do what came naturally to me, although not as frequently as Taylor would like… I wanted to make love to my wife.”

  Mariah thought about what he said. If Taylor looked like the woman Frank supposed was Mariah, and knowing how much he enjoyed making love, then it would certainly stand to reason they’d shared a bed. “I see what you mean, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. As a matter of fact, I don’t like it one bit. I’ve managed to stay true.”

  “Mariah, don’t fret about it. It won’t change anything. If we’re lucky, they’re at the same stage we are. Frank most certainly has noticed a drastic change in your behavior... or Taylor’s. I’m sure he’s figured something isn’t right.”

  When David opened his door, the car’s dim interior light seemed harsh compared to the darkness. Mariah blinked. “Maybe you’re rig
ht. Taylor and I certainly don’t sound anything alike.”

  “Boy, you can say that again,” he mumbled as he stepped out.

  * * * *

  Mariah finished loading the dishwasher, added the soap, and closed the door. She stood at the sink, wiping the counter, when she glanced out the window. Her gaze jerked back to the strange sight and she screamed. “David!”

  He raced into the kitchen. “What! What’s wrong?”

  She swallowed hard and pointed out the window. “Wha…what’s that?”

  He glanced through the glass. “What’s what? I don’t see anything.”

  “In the sky. What’s that in the sky?” Her voice trembled.

  David craned his neck to look up. He pointed to the object. “That? That’s an airplane.”

  * * * *

  As Mariah readied for bed, she still tried to understand David’s explanation of the flying machine. He sounded so casual when he told how it soared like a bird and carried people from place to place.

  She shimmied her nightgown down the length of her body, then stopped and shook her head. “How in the world? What keeps this… this airplane in the sky? And it takes people from one place to another?”

  A sudden thought occurred to her. Maybe it could carry her back home.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Colorado Territory—1872

  Frank rapped on Taylor’s door. “Get up. It’s time to go ridin’.”

  She forced her eyes open and wondered if she was dreaming. She listened for a minute.

  Another knock. “Taylor, C’mon, wake up.” And Frank’s voice.