‘I came to the cave to meet you like we planned,’ says Demi, ‘and you weren’t there. I came every day for a week, but there was no sign of you. I haven’t seen you for nearly five months!’
She doesn’t look like she’s joking. The vans have all gone from the field. The weather is colder, like the weather in the past described to me by the old ones. It isn’t just a crummy summer’s day; the seasons have actually changed.
‘What – what’s the date?’ I ask in a hushed voice.
‘The third of January,’ replies Demi flatly. ‘You missed Christmas.’
Stunned, I close my eyes. I’ve lost five months of my life!
And that also means it’s no longer two thousand and nine; it’s two thousand and ten.
Demi leaves the door ajar. ‘How’s he feeling?’ I think that’s her mother’s voice.
‘He’s tired, so I’ve left him to sleep. Can he stay, Dad?’
There’s a pause before her dad’s voice drifts into the room. ‘Aye; until he’s better. Dr Mac said he’s coming back to see him tomorrow, anyway.’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to go anywhere until he’s feeling up to it,’ says Mrs Fraser. ‘I ought to call his mother, though. He should be at home if he’s ill. I’ll ask him for the number later.’
I hold my breath.
‘I reckon he’ll have to stay for at least a week,’ says Demi.
‘We’ll see,’ says her dad.
Their voices fade away.
Hours later I open my eyes, and see an angel staring down at me. It takes me a moment to realise that it’s Mrs Fraser, holding a tray of food. It’s the first time I’ve seen her properly.
‘Mornin’, Travis,’ she says cheerfully. ‘How did you sleep?’
I blink at her. ‘Is it morning again?’
‘Yes, it’s half-past nine. Demi’s at school, but she’ll be home for dinner. You’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen hours. You must have needed it!’
I look hungrily at the toast, eggs, cereal, coffee, and fruit juice.
‘Take your time, Travis,’ says Mrs Fraser as I gobble a piece of toast. ‘Don’t eat so fast, or you’ll make yourself sick.’
I slow down. I don’t tell her I’ve not eaten for a long time.
‘When you’ve finished your breakfast why don’t you have a bath and a change of clothes? There’s plenty of stuff our Cameron left behind which might fit you all right. You’ll feel much better for it.’
I sniff my armpits ruefully. ‘I stink a bit, don’t I?’
‘Just a bit.’ Mrs Fraser laughs. Suddenly I think how lovely she is, like a young girl, not old enough to be Demi’s mother, although she must be about thirty-five. She has a nice body, too, all curvy and sexy. ‘I’ll run the bath. Finish your breakfast first, though.’
As soon as she closes the door I walk slowly to the chair. I search my jacket pockets for the pod and the clock. I put the clock at the back of a drawer, intending to put it back in the hall the first chance I get. The pod will stay with me, but I won’t swallow it again. I clasp it in my hand, close my eyes tight, and concentrate hard. ‘Hudson! Hudson!’
No answer, but I must keep trying. I don’t want to lose touch completely with my own world.
I feel much better after I’ve eaten my breakfast. My head is clearer, and the stiffness has left my body. I go to the window and look out. It’s a dull and misty day. I’m just about able to make out the top of the mountain in the distance.
There’s a knock at the door, and Mrs Fraser comes in. I don’t know why, but I pull the curtain around me.
‘I see you’re out of bed,’ she says, smiling. ‘Your bath is running. Have you found anything to put on yet?’
‘No. Sorry.’
‘There should be a pair of jeans in the wardrobe, and T-shirts and undies in the drawer. I’m not sure whether Cameron’s old trainers will fit you, but they should be in the back of the wardrobe somewhere, too. The bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Don’t let the bath get too full.’
When she leaves I find the jeans and trainers, and pull out a plain black T-shirt from the drawer. After putting the pod in the jeans pocket I take the clothes to the bathroom.
This is my first time in a bath, so I make the most of it, thinking of the lukewarm showers at the institution. I scrub my body, and soap my hair until it smarts. By the time I finish the water is almost black.
‘Filthy git!’ I mutter, grinning.
I want to soak for a bit, but I’m not soaking in scum! I empty the bath, wash it, and fill it again. I don’t think Mrs Fraser will mind. I sink under the clean water for a moment before resurfacing, a dangerous thing for an epileptic to do according to Dr Alexander, which is why I’m never allowed to shower alone at the institution. It’s luxury, having privacy here.
I sigh. This beats dossing down in a cave, although it’s warm enough there, but there’s nowhere to wash unless you use the sea, and if I keep peeing in the corner of the cavern it’ll soon start to pong. I miss the cave, though. It gives me freedom, and I can’t shake off the feeling that it’s important to me.
I lie back, and wonder where I’ve been for five months. How come I’ve managed to lose so much time? It must be last night’s seizure; a violent one if it’s catapulted me so far ahead in time! It’s the only explanation I have. Maybe something has been happening to me in twenty ninety-nine. They could be doing something to the probe, trying to get some response. That might induce a fit. Or they could be injecting me with drugs, trying to force me out of the darkness. I don’t get visions or flashbacks of my old life, I only hear the voices. They may be tampering with my body...
...or operating on my brain!
Water splashes over the side of the bath as I sit upright. What if Chase is doing the epilepsy surgery, and what if I’m dying?
My heart pumps hard in my chest. I’ve no control over what they might be doing to me back in my own time! I’m powerless to stop them!
I grip the flannel and close my eyes tightly. ‘Wake up!’ I tell myself. ‘You have to wake up!’
I open my eyes again. I’m still in the bathroom. Well, I know I can’t go back just like that. It’s going to take something extreme to make that happen. This is a new, friendlier place, colourful and carefree, but could I let my body go in twenty ninety-nine, and make a life for myself here? I’m not sure.
There’s a knock at the door. I sink under the water to hide my nakedness; then I relax. The door is locked.
‘Travis?’ It’s Mrs Fraser. ‘Dr Mac is here to see you.’
‘Right. Thanks.’
I’m reluctant to get out of the hot bath, but ten minutes later I’m dressed in Cameron’s clothes, making sure the pod is safely in the jeans pocket, and I find Mrs Fraser and Dr Mac in the sitting room.
‘Oh, you look so much better!’ Mrs Fraser says. ‘Doesn’t he, Dr Mac? Hey, Cameron’s stuff really suits you, Travis!’
I fiddle with the T-shirt self-consciously.
‘How are you feeling today, Travis?’ asks Dr MacIntyre.
‘Better, like Mrs Fraser says, thanks, doctor.’
‘Tea or coffee, Travis?’ asks Mrs Fraser.
I ask for coffee, and Mrs Fraser goes out to the kitchen to make it. I sit down slowly, loving the way she swings her hips when she walks, and counting the minutes when she’ll come back again.
‘Travis! Travis!’
I stare around the room.
‘How are you? Are you happy?’
‘Dr Alexander?’ His voice is so clear, but I don’t realise I’m smiling at Dr Mac. ‘It is you! What are you doing here? Have you come to take me back?’
‘Travis!’
I jump. Dr Mac is giving me strange looks.
‘I’ve brought you some medication,’ he says, ‘enough to last you till you return home.’
I take the boxes with shaking hands, muttering my thanks.
‘I should contact – Dr Alexander, is it? – let him know what I’ve presc
ribed. Can you remember his telephone number today?’
I shake my head. Mrs Fraser comes in with the coffee.
‘I was just saying about Travis’s doctor, Mrs Fraser.’
‘Aye; and I must ring your parents to let them know you’re safe.’
‘They died,’ I blurt out quickly, ‘in an accident.’
‘Oh!’ gasps Mrs Fraser. ‘I’m sorry, Travis.’
‘It’s all right. I left my home to travel, to try and forget...’
‘Don’t you have any other family, Travis, aunties, uncles, grandparents, who could take care of you?’
‘No.’ I rub my eyes. ‘I’m alone now.’
I wish Dr Mac would stop staring.
‘So where is home?’
I name the place I remember from a certificate hanging on the wall in Chase’s office. ‘Manchester.’
‘How long ago did you leave?’
‘About a year ago.’
‘A year!’ exclaims Mrs Fraser. ‘You mean you’ve been travelling around the country for a year?’
I start to feel uncomfortable. More questions!
‘You’re a little young to be travelling alone,’ pursues Dr Mac.
‘There’s no one around to tell me I can’t.’
‘Even so you can’t be any older than fifteen...’
‘I’m sixteen.’
‘I believe you’re fifteen. You shouldn’t have been left without support so young. I wouldn’t be surprised if social services and even the police aren’t on the lookout for you.’
I stiffen. ‘What have the police got to do with it?’
‘Don’t frighten him, Dr Mac!’ says Mrs Fraser. ‘He’s not on the run, his parents have died!’
‘Even so...’
‘Anyway, I’ve had enough tablets to keep me going till now. It’s just that with me leaving home...’
Dr Mac says nothing.
‘Well,’ says Mrs Fraser, ‘you can stay here as long as you like, Travis. Demi will be pleased, and Mr Fraser could always do with an extra pair of hands on the farm if you’re up for it.’
I nod slowly, grateful for the opportunity of a roof, a bed, and regular food; but I’m wary now. I don’t like the way Dr Mac is looking at me.
He leaves soon after that. I help Mrs Fraser by taking the empty mugs to the kitchen. Then we go out into the yard to feed the hens. I’m tense as I scatter the food.
‘Are you OK, Travis?’
‘Yeah. Sorry.’
‘I’ve been chatting away, but you’ve hardly heard a word.’
I put my hand to my head. ‘I’m just a bit dizzy, that’s all.’
It’s not a lie. I’m dizzy with nerves, expecting to be carted off by the law any minute.
‘Go and lie down, then, love,’ says Mrs Fraser, taking the bucket of chicken feed. ‘Go on. You’re not well yet, and you need to rest.’
Love; who calls you that if they don’t like you? I can’t help it. I put my arms around her waist, and kiss her quickly on the cheek.
‘Travis!’
Suddenly embarrassed, I run back into the house.
6. Chas
I’m happy enough to stay on the farm while I recover from my seizures – I have another the next day, accompanied again by that bright, golden light – but after only two days of family life I start to feel trapped. Having my freedom is great, but I’m not used to being this happy. It’s not long before I wish I’m back in twenty ninety-nine; this place, its people, are all alien to me. In a strange way I feel imprisoned.
I don’t want to leave Mrs Fraser, though: I’m totally in love with her! I long for every minute when I’m in her company. I think about her, dream about her, and have fantasies about her. It’s because of her I can’t bring myself to leave, not yet.
Mr Fraser says I can repay my keep by helping Angus with his work. Angus doesn’t say much, but he’s all right; he’s forgiven me for pinching the eggs. Dr Mac visits sometimes. I’m sure he’s still suspicious of me, but the ‘polis’ (that’s what some of the islanders call the police) don’t come. Like Mrs Fraser says, I’m not on the run, not in this world, anyway. I haven’t broken any law. Dr Mac has stopped talking about Alexander, too, but there’s something about him that I just don’t trust.
Demi is devoted to me. She’s a good kid. I look out for her, treat her like a little sister. I get the impression by the way she acts that she wants more, but she’s not going to get it. She’s just a kid; I don’t fancy her. Anyway, her dad makes it clear I have to keep my hands off.
‘It’s all right, Mr Fraser, I’m not interested in Demi in that way,’ I assure him. I’m too busy thinking about his wife, anyway, but I can’t own up to that. ‘I already have a girlfriend; well, I had one. Her name’s Jenna.’ I sigh, thinking about Jenna. ‘I left her behind at home. You can trust me with Demi, Mr F.’
‘I hope so, son, because I don’t want Demi’s head being messed up with lads until she’s older,’ says Mr Fraser. ‘She’s far too easily led. I don’t want her getting into trouble like that lass in her school. She’s getting far too friendly with you!’
He says all this to Demi as well, but she doesn’t want to know.
No matter what Mr Fraser says, or what I say, Demi barely leaves my side. I can’t go into Crianvarich, the nearby harbour town, on an errand for her dad without her wanting to come with me. I like Crianvarich, with the fishing boats, the gulls flying around hoping to sample the catch of the day, the colourful houses, and hotels lining the harbour front, the delicious smells coming from the restaurants, and the streets bustling with islanders and visitors. I’m safe enough when Demi is at school, but otherwise my time isn’t my own when she’s on the scene.
My only other haven is the cave. I’ve been living at the Frasers’ farm for six weeks before I go back there one early Sunday morning. It hasn’t changed. The stuff in the cavern is undisturbed: my makeshift bed, and the ashes from the fire. I look out to sea, listening to the whish-whish of the waves, thinking about Jenna, Hudson, and Dr Alexander, and I wonder what’s happening back in my own time.
Then, without warning, a loud beeping noise echoes around the cavern walls. Bewildered, I gaze around. Then there’s a jolt, and my body jumps uncontrollably. I fall on my back, terrified. It isn’t a seizure. I’m awake, still aware of my surroundings. The cavern is spinning in a rainbow of colours. Something else is going on. I hear a familiar voice, Alexander’s, calling out to me eerily, like a ghost wailing in the night.
‘Come on, Travis, stay with us.’
‘I can’t!’ I shout back. ‘I can’t come back. I’m in two thousand and ten!’
Another jolt. My body shakes again, three times in succession, before I finally collapse with exhaustion on the cavern floor.
‘He’s back! Thank God!’ says the doctor, and the beeping dies away.
I roll on my back, breathing heavily. It takes a moment for me to grasp that something must be going on at the institution; but I’m not back there.
I sit up. The cavern has finally stopped spinning.
Is the pod working? Is Alexander using it to try to get in touch? I hold it to my chest, close my eyes, and concentrate.
I walk back to the farm feeling hacked off. The pod is obviously useless now, but I don’t want to throw it away; it’s a link to my ‘past-future’. It might work again one day.
Dr Mac has given me a higher dose of tablets to try to keep the big fits away, but warns me of the side effects, more frequent staring episodes being one of them. They’re starting to become a bit of a nuisance, and the bright lights come with them, too. Dr Mac can’t explain what they are. When people talk to me I look straight through them for a few seconds, before snapping out of it.
One evening I catch myself staring at Mrs Fraser when we’re sitting down to a meal. She’s talking about the clock, and how it has mysteriously reappeared on the hall table. Her face is bright with laughter. Demi clicks her fingers under my nose.
‘Travis!’
‘Mm?’ I turn to her, still chewing a mouthful of pie.
‘You’re doing it again!’
‘What?’
‘Staring.’
Mrs Fraser is shaking her head at me, laughing.
‘Thinking about your lassie back home?’ asks Mr Fraser, winking at me. My face burns red.
‘Yeah.’ I can’t tell him I’m daydreaming about Mrs Fraser, can I? ‘I miss her sometimes.’
‘Why don’t you ring her?’ suggests Mrs Fraser. ‘Let her know you’re all right? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.’
Demi gives her a glare.
‘It would only confuse things. It’s best left as it is.’
When we finish eating I help Mrs Fraser wash the dishes. I love being near her, smelling her perfume. My heart pounds when I look at her lovely face. I’m not really listening to her as she chats, I just wipe a plate dry, nodding, laughing when she laughs. I want to drop the plate on the floor, take her in my arms, and kiss her!
Someone takes the plate and the tea towel out of my hands.
‘You’re doing it again, laddie,’ says Mr Fraser, frowning at me.
‘Sorry,’ I mumble, backing away.
‘Anyway, Dr Mac is here to see you.’
Quickly I’m on my guard. ‘What does he want?’
Mr Fraser doesn’t look at me as he says, ‘He’s brought someone to see you.’
‘Who is it?’
He doesn’t answer. He looks shady.
‘Hello, Travis.’ Dr Mac comes into the kitchen, followed by a young woman wearing boots under a long skirt, a long black cardigan, pale blue top, and a kind of chain with a plastic label around her neck. She’s light-skinned, her eyes are brown and slightly slanted, and she’s quite pretty. There’s a photograph of her on the label, and a name: ‘Lucy Wu.’
The attractive Ms Wu turns out to be a social worker, something I’ve never heard of, but I soon find out. She’s come to take me to something called a ‘children’s home’. It sounds like another institution to me.
‘Now come on, laddie,’ says Mr Fraser, as he blocks my exit to the back door, ‘it’s for your own good, you know. You can’t stay here.’
‘Jack!’ says Mrs Fraser. There are tears in her eyes. ‘What have you done?’
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