They entered an oasis from the hustle and bustle outside. The soothing music instantly relaxed her; she closed her eyes and quietly hummed, then almost yelped when Jasper’s fingers dug into her arm. Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“Evil!”
She followed his gaze. “They’re tarot cards, Jasper. They’re just a bit of fun.”
“No respectable person would touch them!” His eyes focused on a point past the cards.
Crystal balls. Great. Before Jasper could open his mouth, she pulled him over to the Angel section. “Oh, look, angel meditations. You might like—” Shit! The Angel section was right next to the Pagan area. She’d browse another time. “Let’s see if Jake’s free.” The cashier directed them to the back room. Pam parted the strings of beads and knocked on the doorframe.
“Just a sec.” Jake’s eyes remained on the LCD as he tapped away at the keyboard. “There.” He swung his chair around; his face lit up and he sprang to his feet. “Pamela! Why didn’t you say it was you?”
She gave him a quick hug and offered her left cheek, then her right, for the obligatory air kisses.
Jake looked past her. “And I see you have a friend with you.” She noted the curiosity in his eyes with satisfaction. “Yes. This is Jasper. Jasper, Jake.” Jake lifted his hand to wave, then grasped the hand Jasper extended and pumped it. His attention shifted back to Pam. “So, what can I do for you, Pamela?”
“Ah, yes. Well.” Time to tell him the story she’d concocted on the way. “Remember that book I bought on Thursday? The moon rhymes one?”
His brows drew together. “Of course. Magical Moon Rhymes for All Times. Is there a problem? I told you about the coffee stains. Even in its slightly damaged state, I let it go much too cheaply. There are some powerful rhymes in there.”
No kidding. She put her hand on his arm. “No, no, I love the book, Jake. Love it! So much so that I wanted to learn more about moon rhymes. I came across an interesting site on the Net about people’s experiences with them, and one . . . um, woman posted recently to the forum, saying she had a bit of a problem. I didn’t know how to help her, but I thought, if anyone would know, it would be Jake.”
He nodded. “What’s the problem?”
“Well, you see, she was reading one of the rhymes, and all of a sudden a, uh . . . locket appeared on her lap. You can imagine how shocked she was. She figured it must have come from another time, so she desperately wanted to send it back to wherever it came from so that the, um, universal timeline wouldn’t be affected. But she read the rhyme again, and nothing happened. It didn’t go away, and she still has it. The poor woman is going out of her mind. Why isn’t the rhyme working?” She gazed at him, hoping he knew the answer.
He stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Pamela, Pamela, Pamela. I’m so glad you came to me.”
Her hopes rose. “Really?”
“Yes. You must be very careful when you’re on the Internet. This poor woman is obviously deluded.”
“What? No, she most certainly isn’t deluded.”
“You were there? You saw the locket appear?”
“Not exactly.”
He lifted his hands, palms up. “See?”
Jasper folded his arms. “You just told the lady the book you sold her contains powerful rhymes.”
Jake’s eyes flicked to Jasper. “It does. But the rhymes affect the spiritual realm. I’ve never heard of a physical object travelling through time.”
People were spiritual. “But you’ve heard of spirits travelling through time?” Pam asked.
“Of course. Spirits from the past grace us with their presence at séances.” But she’d thought spirits were outside time, in a different dimension. Wait—not when they were inside bodies! “Perhaps the locket contains spiritual energy!” Jake shrugged. “It’s possible, I suppose.”
“Let’s say it does. Why can’t she send it back? Does she have to read another rhyme?” Oh!
They hadn’t tried that. Maybe she should read all the rhymes out loud.
“No. But you said she used a moon rhyme, correct?”
She nodded.
“When does she claim the locket arrived?”
Pam cleared her throat. “Oh, two or three days ago.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Ah, well, moon rhymes are obviously associated with the lunar cycle.”
She waited for more. “So?”
“They only work once per cycle. Tell this woman she has to read the rhyme during the same phase of the next moon cycle.”
“So, if she read the rhyme during a new moon, she has to wait for the next new moon to send the locket away?”
He nodded.
Yes! “Oh. Thank you.”
“But, Pamela, the woman is putting you on. If she asks you for money, don’t give her any.”
“Don’t worry, Jake. She won’t.” She turned to Jasper. “Shall we go?”
“Oh, before you do, I want to show you something.” Jake motioned for her and Jasper to leave the back room, then led them to a display near the cash. “We received this new shipment of oils yesterday, and there’s one that’s just perfect for you.” He scanned the stacked bottles, picked one up, and read from its label. “Protective Oil. Rub on forehead to protect against scammers and con artists.”
“What does that mean?” Jasper murmured.
Pam turned to him. “It protects against, er, swindlers.” She wasn’t that gullible, but she didn’t want to dismiss Jake’s advice in front of Jasper. She turned back to Jake. “Is it scented?” Jake nodded. “I suggest you apply it before you go on the Internet.”
“Perhaps we should have rubbed some on our foreheads before coming into this shop,” Jasper said.
Jake’s eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”
Jasper tugged on Pam’s arm. “You don’t need that. Let’s go.”
“But—” Pam had no choice but to move or be dragged. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed to Jake.
“Next time, leave the overprotective boyfriend at home,” he snapped.
As soon as they were outside, she whirled. “What are you doing? Jake’s a friend.”
“You don’t need those kind of friends.”
“I’ll decide what friends I need, not you!”
“He’s a charlatan.”
“Jasper!” She blew out an exasperated sigh. “I know the oil is useless. I was just being polite, showing some interest before I said no. It’s a game.”
“It’s not just the oil.” He jutted his chin toward the store. “It’s the rest of it.”
“You can’t deny that the moon rhymes are powerful.”
“I suppose I can’t,” he admitted.
“I thought you believed in the dark arts.”
“I do. But perhaps their power has diminished over time, to the point that you people no longer take them seriously. Fun, indeed.” His brow furrowed. “What’s that aroma? It’s quite appealing. It smells like coffee, but . . .”
Pam sniffed the air. “It is coffee. Flavoured. It’s coming from the coffee shop on the corner.”
Jasper glanced that way, then gazed at her and bit his lip. “Can I try one?” Her irritation drained away. He looked like a little boy asking his mother if he could have an ice cream. Pam stifled a grin. “I could do with a coffee myself.” She grabbed his arm. “And while we’re out, let’s do a bit of shopping. Since you won’t be going home tonight, you’ll need more clothes.”
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said as they strolled to the corner. “I only wanted to protect you.”
“I know.” She patted his arm, then let go of it. “And I’d much rather have you protect me than rub oil on my forehead.” They grinned at each other. If he wanted to rub oil on her in more interesting places than her forehead, she’d be game. “Before we go in, let me call Robin, let her know what we’re doing. Otherwise she’ll worry.” Pam pulled her phone from her purse and dialled their number. “Hi, it’s me. We just left Jake’s.”
“And?
”
“I’ve got good news! I think I know what to do.”
“That’s great!” Robin’s elation strained her voice.
“Well, there is one slight catch.”
“What is it?” Robin said quietly.
“The rhymes only work once per lunar cycle. So I can’t send them back until the next, um . .
. whatever phase the moon was in on Thursday.”
“Are you serious?”
“It’s not that bad. At least I know what to do now.” She heard typing. “Robin?”
“I’m just looking up what phase the moon was in. Ha! Figures. It was a full moon.” She sighed. “So you’re telling me they’ll live with us for a few more weeks? I can’t skip classes again, Pam. I have to go in on Monday. Maybe we should find them somewhere else to stay.” Pam stepped away from Jasper and lowered her voice. “We can’t. Nobody can know about them. I think we can trust them to be on their own while we’re both out. We’ll just make sure they know not to answer the door or the phone.”
“I don’t know. I’m still not convinced we don’t have two sophisticated con artists on our hands.”
“Robin, what will it take to convince you? The diary wasn’t enough? How about my own eyes? They appeared right in front of me!”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d have an easier time believing it if they’d appeared in front of me.”
“I wish they had!” Pam forcefully exhaled. “Listen, what would they want from us? We’re not rich. Okay, I have the house and Mom left me decent money, but I still have to work. And you make just enough to get by. What could they possibly want, that they’d go through this elaborate charade?” When Robin didn’t reply, Pam interpreted her silence as acquiescence. “I’m calling because we won’t be coming home right away. We’re going to have a quick coffee and then pick up more clothes for them.”
“How long do you think you’ll be?”
“A couple of hours, maybe? What’s Margaret doing? You’d better not be holed up in your bedroom.”
“I’m in the study, working on an assignment. Margaret’s reading downstairs.” Pam’s heart pounded. “Downstairs! Have you been checking on her? To make sure she’s okay, not to ensure that she hasn’t absconded with the silver!” Robin chuckled. “She’s not a child.”
“What’s she reading?”
“Dickens.”
“Why? She can read that anytime.”
“Probably because it’s familiar. I don’t think she’s very comfortable here.” No. Jasper was the more adventurous of the two. Pam admired his courage . . . and the way he carried himself. Nobody would ever guess that the relaxed, self-assured man watching the world go by was from 1910. And, ooh, she’d love to see him in a modern suit. If she could come up with a reason . . .
“Pam?”
She shook herself. “Why don’t you spend some time with Margaret, talk to her?”
“I’m not sure she wants to talk.”
“Then do something.”
Robin snorted. “Like what, needlepoint? Oh, I know, we can do a jigsaw puzzle!” Pam tutted. “If I were there, I’d slap you up the side of the head. All I’m asking you to do is keep her company until we come home.”
“She might prefer to read.” Robin paused. “But I’ll go down and see how she’s doing.”
“Good. Anyway, I should go. Jasper’s waiting.”
They said good-bye. Pam shoved the phone into her purse and rejoined him. “Okay, Robin knows we’ll be out for a while.”
“Did you tell her what Jake said about the moon rhymes?” Jasper asked.
Pam nodded.
“I hope she wasn’t upset.”
“She wasn’t.” Not really. “Shall we go in?”
“Of course.” He held the door open for her. As she brushed past him, she realized he hadn’t asked about Margaret.
*****
Margaret sighed and peered over the top of her book when footsteps thumped down the stairs.
She’d only just stopped shaking after the telephone’s shrill assault on her ears.
Robin bounded into the living room. “Still reading? Do you have enough light? This room doesn’t get as much sun in the afternoon.”
“Yes, I know,” Margaret murmured. She tensed when Robin crossed to one of the windows and reached for the curtains.
Robin suddenly stopped and turned. “Have you looked out a window yet?” Margaret swallowed. “No.” The curtains had remained closed when they’d watched TV, she hadn’t opened the blinds in Robin’s bedroom, and she’d managed to avoid the large windows near the rear of the kitchen, though unless she were to renege on her offer to help Robin cook, she’d soon have to face them. Blood rushed to her cheeks when comprehension dawned in Robin’s eyes.
“You’ll strain your eyes, reading in this light. Why don’t I open this curtain and then you can come over and have a look? There’s nothing scary out there. Jasper’s out with Pam.” And she was a coward who couldn’t look out a window. Her thought; neither Robin’s eyes nor her voice contained a hint of derision. “Open the curtain.” Light splashed onto the area rug. Margaret set the book on the coffee table and forced herself to stand.
Robin beckoned to her. “Come on.”
Fighting the urge to close her eyes, Margaret tried not to cringe as she tentatively approached the window. Robin’s presence bolstered her, gave her the impetus she needed to take the final few steps. And then she was there, surveying her road. The cobblestones were gone, and metal contraptions—motor cars?—lined the road, but she recognized the houses across the way.
“Some of it is familiar.” She pointed, then held her hand at shoulder height. “The last time I saw that tree, it was this tall.”
“And now it’s the tallest thing on the street.”
“And those are motor cars?”
Robin nodded. “We just call them cars.”
“Cars.” Margaret turned away from the window, quite pleased with herself. “Thank you for the encouragement.”
“Would you like something to drink? A coffee?”
Her throat felt dry, but she didn’t want to trouble Robin. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“I feel like a cup of tea, so I’m going to put the kettle on.”
“Tea?” Margaret blurted before she could stop herself.
“Would you like a cup?”
“Yes, please.” She hesitated. “I prefer tea over coffee.” Robin’s brows rose. “So do I. You should have said.”
“I don’t mind coffee. And you and Pam are being so kind.”
“But you’ve seen me drink—” Robin shrugged. “Never mind.” She looked past Margaret, then down. “You’re barefoot.”
She must have noticed the shoes near the sofa. “The shoes pinch. Don’t tell Pam.” Robin sighed. “I’ll at least get you a pair of socks. And don’t be afraid to speak up. You’ll be with us a while longer, so let us know what you need.”
“What do you mean?”
“That was Pam on the phone. Apparently the rhyme she used to bring you here only works once per lunar cycle. So she can’t send you back for a few weeks.” Margaret struggled to mask her dismay. Perhaps her hope that Pam would send them home today had been optimistic, but oh, how she’d wanted it to be true! “I’m sorry. Two strangers in your home must be the last thing you want.”
“It’s not your fault, Margaret. You didn’t ask to come here.” Robin smiled. “Why don’t you come sit in the kitchen while I make the tea? If we get to know each other, we won’t be strangers.”
The prospect of conversing with Robin intimidated her, but to decline Robin’s invitation would be rude. “Yes, let’s do that.” She followed Robin to the kitchen and settled into a chair that would allow her to watch Robin prepare the tea. If she and Jasper were to impose on their hosts for weeks, she had to make herself useful.
Robin filled the oddly-shaped kettle with water and pressed a button at its base. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
&nbs
p; Margaret wondered if Robin had decided she didn’t want to converse after all, but Robin was back a minute later, a pair of socks in hand.
“Thank you.” She pulled them on. They looked ridiculous with her dress, but given Robin’s . . . attire, Margaret wouldn’t worry until Jasper and Pam returned. She’d squeeze back into the shoes then. “How long will it take for Jasper and Pam to return home?”
“Oh, sorry—Pam said that since you’ll be here longer, they’re going to shop for more clothes. They won’t be home for a couple of hours.”
Her feet appreciated the news. Jasper must be enjoying himself, or at least feeling comfortable enough in the city to want to experience more of it.
Robin had sat down. They stared at each other across the table. “It must be strange for you, being in this house,” Robin finally said. “I suppose, to you, we’re the ones out of place.”
“No, too much has changed. Pam said this is her house?” Robin nodded.
The same old questions ran through Margaret’s mind. Why did Robin live here? Where were their families? Why weren’t they married? Margaret was certain they were both older than her.
“Pam’s grandparents bought the house in 1958, and Pam’s parents took it over in 1985.”
“Do you know who owned it before 1958?”
“No. Pam’s lived here pretty much all her life. Unfortunately, her father was killed in a car accident when she was seventeen, and her mother passed away a couple of years ago.”
“That’s terrible!”
“Yeah.” Robin heaved her shoulders. “She’s an only child, so she inherited the house from her mother. She knows it’s way too big for her, but she’s emotionally attached to it. So she invited me to come live with her.”
One question answered.
“I’m sure she’ll eventually sell it. She’ll get to the point where she’s ready to move on. And she knows I can’t live here forever.”
“Why did she ask you to live with her?”
“We’ve been friends for years.”
Threaded Through Time, Book One Page 5