"If you say so."
"I say so."
Katie sighed and trudged forward. She kept to herself for the next few minutes as cars continued to pass. Most looked like they had been manufactured in the fifties.
"Now, it's your turn," Katie said. She turned to face Ginny as the two reached another rural intersection. "We still need to get to the city. Any suggestions?"
Ginny glanced at Katie but didn't answer. She returned her eyes to the road until a vehicle that looked a lot like a 1957 Chevy sped by. The driver honked and a passenger whistled.
Ginny grinned.
"I have an idea."
Katie caught the grin and shook her head.
"I don't think so."
"Why not? Mom did it all the time when she was young. She survived. She went on to marry Dad, have six beautiful children, and live happily ever after in a middle-class neighborhood!"
"She was lucky, Gin, really lucky. We can't count on that kind of luck. There are too many psychos out there – way too many. Think of something else."
"There is nothing else, Katie, unless you want to walk thirty miles in your flats."
"I'm not doing it."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Katie?"
"What?"
"Stick out your thumb."
CHAPTER 8: GINNY
Ginny knew there were few certainties in the world, but one was written in stone. When young, attractive blondes lifted thumbs on busy rural highways, they were certain to find rides.
In this case, the young, attractive blondes needed just ninety seconds to draw the attention of a man who drove a red Corvette convertible. When he pulled to the side of the road about thirty yards up, Ginny and Katie rushed to meet him.
"Hi, ladies," the driver said.
"Hi," Ginny said.
"Looking for a lift?"
"We are. We're trying to get to Seattle. Are you going that way?"
"I am now," the man said with a laugh. "Climb in."
Ginny looked at the man and saw that he wasn't a man at all. He was a college boy, probably a junior or a senior, who was no doubt running up the miles on his father's car. With thick blond hair, a chiseled face, and dreamy green eyes, he was also disturbingly handsome. She started to reach for the handle on the passenger door when Katie pulled her back.
"Umm, Ginny?"
"What?"
"I see a problem," Katie said.
"What problem?"
"There's only one passenger seat."
"She's right about that," the driver said. "Corvettes have only two seats."
He grabbed a shopping bag off the passenger seat and put it on his lap.
"If you don't mind, you can always double up. I promise to get you to your destination in one piece."
Ginny smiled sweetly at the driver and then turned to her sister, who appeared much less enthusiastic about doubling up.
"We can do it, Katie. We'll be fine."
"I don't see a seatbelt."
Ginny bore down with her eyes.
"We'll be fine," she repeated.
"Do you two need a moment?" the driver asked.
"No," Ginny said.
"Yes," Katie said.
Ginny smiled again at the man-boy-hunk.
"We'll be back in just a second."
"Take your time."
Ginny gently pulled Katie to a spot about ten feet behind the back of the car, which looked like it had just left a showroom. It bore a temporary license plate and a shiny frame advertising a Chevrolet dealership in north Seattle.
"Katie, did you bump your head when you fainted?" Ginny asked in a soft but firm voice.
"We don't know him, Gin."
"Yes, we do. We know he's a friendly guy with a hot car who wants to give us a ride."
"In a car with two seats and no belts."
"Katie?"
"Can't we wait for a soccer mom in a station wagon?" Katie asked.
"No."
"I'm not budging."
Ginny glared at her sister as her sister glared back. She knew their Mexican stare-offs could last for minutes if uninterrupted, but she wasn't going to allow this one to go another ten seconds.
"Please," Ginny said, switching to the soft sell. "I promise I'll let you make the decisions the rest of the day."
Ginny tilted her head and looked at Katie with playful eyes. When that didn't work, she brought out a weapon that had settled almost every dispute since preschool: the pout.
"Oh, all right," Katie said. "Just remember I warned you if he turns out to be a serial killer."
"I will," Ginny said with a laugh. "I promise."
She put her arm on Katie's shoulder and guided her back to the car.
"We've worked out our differences," Ginny said to the driver. She smiled warmly. "We'd be delighted if you gave us a ride to Seattle."
"Great," he said. "If it makes you feel better, I'll drive slowly. I'm in no hurry."
Ginny opened the door, got in, and slid across the vinyl passenger seat all the way to the console. She smiled briefly at the driver, turned to Katie, and patted a thigh.
"You can sit on my lap if you need to."
"That won't be necessary," Katie said.
Katie squeezed into the outer half of the passenger seat and shut the door. She put her right hand on the door handle and kept her eyes forward.
"I'm Steve, by the way," the driver said as he extended a hand. "Steve Carrington."
Ginny took the hand.
"I'm Ginny Smith."
"Hi, Ginny."
Ginny subtly elbowed her sibling.
"I'm Katie."
Steve offered a slight wave.
"Hi, Katie."
Steve held up the shopping bag and looked at Ginny.
"Would you mind holding this while I drive?"
"Not at all," Ginny said. She took the bag. "What is it?"
"It's a record set, a birthday gift for my mom. She's into jazz recordings, the kind you can play on a Victrola. There's an antique shop out here that sells them by the hundreds."
Steve started the Corvette, shifted into gear, and pulled back onto the highway. Within a few minutes he was barreling down Route 169, passing slow cars and tractors as he went.
Ginny took the time to fully assess the driver. She found a lot to like.
Steve Carrington, she discovered, was even more intoxicating close up. He had a cool demeanor that reminded her of her favorite actors and wore an aftershave lotion that sent her into orbit. He also wore a purple-and-white letterman's jacket, evidence that he was or had been a water-polo player at the university in Seattle – the school the Smith twins had planned to attend in the distant and seemingly inaccessible year of 2020.
Ginny laughed to herself as she ran through the essentials. Good-looking? Check. Buff body? Check. Loves his mama? Check. Charming? Check. Hot car? Check. Wealthy? Probably. She'd have to conduct additional research before marking that box. Whatever the case, one thing was clear: her sudden and hopefully brief trip through 1964 was off to a good start.
As the trio left Maple Valley and approached the outskirts of Renton, Ginny noted the strawberry fields, lettuce patches, and tracts of Douglas fir that lined the Cedar River. She couldn't remember a time when strip malls, car dealerships, and fast-food restaurants didn't occupy every suburban intersection. This was the Seattle of song and myth, the one Grandma Cindy had talked about so wistfully, the one that would eventually grab the nation's imagination and lure hundreds of thousands of new residents to the Puget Sound area.
"So where in Seattle would you like me to take you?" Steve asked.
Ginny glanced at Katie and saw that she was fully disengaged. She stared blankly through the windshield – still fuming, no doubt, if not lost in new thoughts. Ginny would have to give her a little more TLC when they arrived in the city. When she saw that Katie was not about to weigh in on the question, she turned to the driver.
"You can drop us off in th
e U-District if it's no trouble," Ginny said.
"It's no trouble at all. Do you girls attend the university?"
Ginny started to answer and then held back. She realized that even simple questions could not be answered truthfully – or at least directly – in this strange new world. Of all the things she would need before the day was out, none was as important as a story. For all practical purposes, she and Katie had no past. She gave the matter a few seconds and whipped out an answer.
"No. We're not students, but we'd like to be. We came up here from California looking for jobs. We hope to make some money this summer and maybe enroll in the fall."
Ginny glanced again at Katie and saw her hold back a laugh. Nothing drew her sister out of a shell faster than a humorous whopper of a story.
"California, huh?" Steve asked. "Did you hitch your way here?"
"We did. We've been thumbing it since Thousand Oaks."
Katie shook her head.
"Where are your bags?"
"We travel light," Ginny said.
Steve smiled and nodded.
"I see."
"What she means to say is that we forgot our belongings in Portland yesterday," Katie said. "We're going to send for them as soon as we find an apartment."
Ginny squeezed her sister's hand twice.
"Well, let me know if you need any help getting them. I'd be happy to assist."
"Thanks for the offer, but I think we'll be OK," Ginny said.
When Steve returned his eyes to the road, Ginny used the moment to steal a glance at Katie and mouth a "thank you." She felt good when she saw Katie answer with a smile.
"Just out of curiosity, how did you two end up in Maple Valley?" Steve asked as he turned to face his passengers. "It's way off the freeway."
"We know," Ginny said. "We just wanted to check out the countryside and maybe a few of the antique shops. We hear they're pretty nice."
Steve laughed.
"OK. I get it. Too many questions."
Ginny slid farther to her left, smiled at the driver, and batted her lashes. So he had a sense of humor too. She added that to the checklist.
"Is this your car?" Ginny asked.
"It will be on Monday," Steve said. "My dad got a sweet deal on it from a friend who owns a Chevy dealership in the city. He said it was an early graduation present. I just have to sign a few papers next week and it's mine."
"You're still in school?"
"What? Do I look thirty?"
"Oh, no. You look really young," Ginny said. "I was just curious."
"I'm a senior at the university – at least for six more weeks. Then I'm off to law school."
Check.
"That's nice. I'd like to go to grad school someday."
"What's stopping you?" Steve asked.
"Money, for one thing. I'd have to get a bachelor's degree first and that takes money."
"Don't you have parents that could help you out?"
"I do – we do – but they're not in a position to give us money right now," Ginny said.
"That's too bad. You're articulate and intelligent. I'd bet you'd do well in college."
Check.
"I think so too. That's why we're headed to the U-District. We want to find work and get an education. I understand the university accommodates part-time students who work."
"It does. I have several friends who work during the day and attend classes at night. I admire their drive. They appreciate education a lot more than those of us who mooch off our parents or attend school on a scholarship."
"Are you on a scholarship?"
"I am. I got a full ride right out of high school."
Ginny put down her mental clipboard. There was no point in checking more boxes. This guy was practically perfect.
Ginny raised her hands above her head to catch the fast-moving air as Steve turned onto State Route 405 and started west toward the city and Interstate 5. She didn't know what she and Katie would do when Steve dropped them off, but she knew they would figure out something. They were two resourceful young women who could conquer the world if they had to.
She knew it wouldn't be easy, of course. Ginny knew that whatever they did, they would have to do it quickly and do it from scratch. Without money, assets, or contacts, they would literally have to reinvent themselves in a time they knew only from textbooks. They would also have to do it without the love and support of the people they had left behind.
When Steve turned onto the freeway and raced past the brewery toward downtown Seattle, Ginny thought of her parents and siblings. She had thought of them often since sending her texts. She wanted to know what was happening on the other side of the magic mirror. Had time simply stopped when she and Katie had walked through the glass? Or had it marched on?
Ginny was confident she would see her family again, but she wasn't quite as sure that their reunion would occur without a hitch. Even when her parents, in their respective travels, had returned to the same time and place, they had returned as changed people.
She wondered as well what kind of impact she and Katie might have on the people and events of 1964. Did they have an obligation to keep to themselves and make as few waves as possible? Or did they have a duty to remedy injustice as they went along? Two time travelers with knowledge of the future could make a big difference in this world – or make a big mess.
Ginny pondered these matters and others over the next twenty minutes as Steve drove the twins closer to the university district and whatever life awaited them. She didn't have the answers and might not have them for days or weeks, but she was certain she would find them. Virginia Smith was a problem solver, and even involuntary time travel was a problem she could fix.
CHAPTER 9: GINNY
Seattle, Washington
Ginny noted the hour and minute of the day for the first time when Steve pulled off the interstate, turned right on Northeast Forty-Fifth Street, and headed toward the campus. A clock on the front of a savings-and-loan building told her it was one thirty.
She had asked Steve to stop near the campus bookstore on University Way Northeast – or what locals called the Ave – because she knew it would be there. The bookstore had occupied the same location since the 1920s. As a place Joel and Grace had frequented in 1941, when they had met, and in 2000, when they had courted, it was as much a part of the Smith family history as the library, the football stadium, and the Phoenician Theater.
Ginny knew that she and Katie could hop out of the Corvette and enter the bookstore as inconspicuously as any of the dozens of students that plied the Ave on this warm May afternoon. What she didn't know was how to say goodbye to the dashing man who had driven total strangers more than thirty miles to the destination of their choice. For a number of reasons, she didn't want to leave his side.
"Will you two be all right?" Steve asked as the twins exited the car.
"We'll be fine," Katie said. "Thanks for the ride, Steve."
Ginny glared at her sister and then gave the driver a friendlier glance.
"Thank you," Ginny said.
"It was my pleasure. Can I do anything more for you?"
Yes. You can take me to dinner!
"No. My sister's right. I think we'll be OK."
Steve stared at Ginny for about ten seconds and then shifted his attention to the glove box. He reached to his right, opened the compartment, and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. He scribbled something on the paper and offered the slip to Ginny.
"I'm sure you'll manage just fine. Here are a couple of phone numbers, though, in case you don't. Please call if you need anything. I mean it."
Ginny grabbed the slip and held Steve's gaze.
"We will . . . I will."
"Great," Steve said. He turned on the ignition. "I hope to see you again."
Steve waved as he pulled away from the curb and headed south down the Ave. A moment later, he turned right and left the scene.
"You could have been friendlier," Ginny said to Katie as they stood
across the street from the bookstore. "He's a nice guy and definitely not a serial killer."
"He's a distraction," Katie said. "Right now we need jobs and a place to stay. We don't need distractions."
"You don't look happy."
"I'm concerned, Gin. I thought about some things on the drive up and realized that we have some obstacles to overcome."
"Such as?"
"You want me to list them?" Katie asked.
"Please."
Katie looked up and down the busy street, as if searching for something. When she apparently found it, she pointed to an unoccupied bench about twenty yards away.
"Let's go over there. I want to sit."
Katie followed Ginny to the bench and sat down beside her. When the two were settled, she reached into her purse and pulled out her organizer wallet.
"We've already talked about our worthless cash and credit cards. Now we need to talk about the other things."
"What other things?" Ginny asked.
Katie opened the wallet and pointed to her driver's license.
"Let's start with our licenses. We won't be born for another thirty-seven years. That might be a problem if we're asked to show ID."
"Yes, it might."
"Then there's the stuff we have to have but don't," Katie said. "We don't have valid Social Security numbers or references or phone numbers or even a home address. Do you remember the last time you applied for a job when you weren't asked for all of those things? We're screwed."
Ginny turned away for a moment and gathered her thoughts. She knew Katie was mostly right. They had none of the things they had taken for granted their entire lives, but that didn't necessarily mean they were screwed. She refused to believe the situation was hopeless.
"You don't know that, Katie. We may be just fine, at least with one thing."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean this is 1964. Employers here may not require Social Security numbers. If they do, we'll just give them our real ones. It's not like they can check them online. They probably won't check them at all until tax time. By then we'll be long gone."
"I suppose you're right," Katie said glumly. "Not that it matters. If we don't find jobs, it won't matter what we put on a form. What do you suggest we do to support ourselves?"
The Mirror (Northwest Passage Book 5) Page 5