by Arby Robbins
Crane took the next exit going seventy, threading the needle between an SUV and an eighteen-wheeler on his way into a shopping center parking lot. He flew in between two minivans and jammed the brakes.
“Geneva, take us now,” Conroe begged.
The police siren grew louder.
“Geneva?”
“Why isn’t it working?” he asked.
The police cruiser stopped behind the truck, blocking it in place.
“Geneva, please. We need to go right now!”
Frederick limped up to Conroe’s window with his pistol drawn. “I didn’t want to have to do it this way, Conroe, but you’ve left me no choice.” He pointed the gun at her head and squeezed the trigger.
36
Total blackness.
Complete silence.
Crane closed his eyes and opened them again. There was no difference. “Conroe, are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” she said. “We made it out. I’m fine.”
Following her voice, he moved in to put his arm around her. “When Frederick fired the gun, I thought you were dead. It happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to react and try to save you.”
“Geneva got us out just in time.”
“Why is it so dark?”
“It always starts out this way,” she explained. “You’re usually sleeping during this part.”
The blackness lightened to a thick fog.
“This looks familiar,” he said.
The fog cleared partially, revealing the bridge under their feet.
“Run!” she ordered.
They ran across the bridge, supporting themselves with the handrails. It collapsed behind them.
“We’re getting pretty good at this,” he said.
“Yeah—but don’t get overconfident. You know that the Dream Tunnel can be unpredictable.”
“Why did your great grandfather think he needed to put people through an obstacle course?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m guessing he did it this way in case the time travel computer ever got into the wrong hands. I can imagine some unscrupulous person trying to use it to move an entire city or race of people to another time. But the way he designed it, that’s not possible. Each person has to be escorted over the bridge and through the tunnel.”
“Well, it’s no dream tunnel, I’ll tell you that. More like a nightmare.”
“Yeah, I named it Dream Tunnel to make it seem less threatening to you. Besides, you were supposedly dreaming.”
“How many other things have you lied to me about?” he asked.
She ignored the question. “Be careful not to trip this time.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to cut my hand again—and oh, the spiders—I hate spiders.”
“They can’t get you as long as you’re running,” she advised.
“Let’s just get it over with.”
“Okay.” She led him into the tunnel. “Go!”
Crane expected Conroe’s hand to be guiding him through the darkness, as usual. But instead of going forward, it suddenly went downward, and he lost his grip.
There was a splash, and Conroe screamed.
“Conroe—where are you? What happened?”
“I fell in a big hole—I’m up to my neck in water, and I can’t reach the top of the hole.”
He extended his arm into the hole. “Try to grab my hand.”
“I can’t find your hand in the dark.”
The light at the end of the tunnel appeared, and the wind began to blow.
She said, “Now I can see you. No wonder I couldn’t find your hand—it’s too far.”
He took off his belt and lowered the buckle end into the hole.
“I can’t reach it, Crane. You’re gonna have to go on without me.”
“What? No! I’m not gonna do that. No way!”
“There’s no time,” she reasoned. “If you don’t go now, we’re both gonna die.”
“I’m not leaving you here!”
“The tunnel will close up,” Conroe said, “and once it does, we’re dead.”
Crane sat down on the edge of the hole.
“What are you doing? You’ve got to go!”
He turned around and lowered his body into the hole, hanging onto the rock at the edge. “Grab onto my legs and climb up my back.”
She followed his instructions.
His fingers barely clung to the edge as spiders began to sting them.
Conroe made it to the top and climbed out. Then she helped Crane get up.
“Run!” Crane took her hand and they began to sprint toward the light.
Conroe tripped and fell.
Crane went back to help her up. “Come on, Conroe. We can still make it.”
She didn’t move. Crane didn’t know whether she was unconscious or dead. He picked her up and started running with her body in his arms. The light was already stronger than it had gotten the last time. The wind made it almost impossible to move forward. It seemed hopeless.
“Crane?”
Conroe wasn’t dead. She was weak, but still alive.
Crane’s adrenaline kicked into a higher gear. He felt more strength than he knew he had. His heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s. The end of the tunnel was close—he just knew it. A few more feet. He would not give up—he would push himself beyond his physical limits until his muscles bled, his bones broke, and his heart exploded. He screamed at the top of his lungs.
The tunnel shot them out like a cannonball.
They rolled onto the grass, tumbling several times, body over body, until they landed with Crane on top.
She gazed up into his eyes. “I love you, Crane.”
His emotions overpowered him. Her soft lips were irresistible. He had no experience with kissing girls, but he didn’t care. Once their lips touched, it seemed so natural and refreshing—like a cool glass of water in a desert. Her lips parted slightly, and their tongues intertwined.
His hand automatically went to her breast, and when he touched it, she responded. For a moment, he thought he had offended her—but then she began to kiss him even more passionately.
She placed her hands on his head and began to stoke his hair.
He located the top button on her blouse and unfastened it.
“Stop!” screamed a woman’s voice from a distance.
Crane jumped off Conroe.
Geneva rode up on her horse, leading Conroe’s horse along with her. “Conroe, you know that you cannot be crowned queen unless you are a virgin.”
Crane’s face turned red. “I’m sorry, Conroe. I was way out of line. I don’t know what came over me.”
Conroe smiled. “Don’t worry, baby. Tonight we can take up where we left off.”
“Tonight?” he asked, still disoriented from the death-defying trip through the tunnel.
“After the wedding.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, getting to his feet.
Conroe stood up. “Crane, this is Geneva, my best friend.”
Geneva got down from her horse and offered her hand. “Glad to meet you, Crane.”
He shook her hand. “So, you’re the one who saved us?”
“Yes.”
Crane continued to shake Geneva’s hand. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He released it. “Was I supposed to kiss your hand or something?”
Geneva smiled. “No, a handshake is fine.”
“What happened, Geneva?” Conroe asked. “Why didn’t you transport us as soon as I asked you to? I thought I was gonna end up with a bullet in my head.”
“What do you mean?” Geneva asked. “I did. I entered the transport code as soon as you asked me to.”
“Hmm, that’s odd,” Conroe replied. “Maybe there was a delay in what you were seeing.”
“Could have been, I suppose. It might have happened because the battery is so weak,” Geneva suggested. “It might even be completely dead by now.”
An eerie feeling washed over Crane as it sunk in: he would never be able to r
eturn to his world.
37
Conroe and Geneva took Crane to Conroe’s bedroom. He felt as though they were sneaking him into the castle, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe the queen would be upset about him being in her daughter’s bedroom before they were married.
“The wedding is at six o’clock, so we don’t have much time to get ready,” Conroe said.
“I don’t have a suit or a tux. In fact, I don’t have anything—except what I’m wearing.”
“I know, sweetie,” Conroe replied. “We’re gonna take care of you.”
She had called him baby after their kiss, and now she had called him sweetie. He smiled.
Geneva studied Crane and began to size him up. “What are you—about a forty-two long?”
“That sounds right,” he answered. “It’s been a while since I’ve worn a suit. I wear a size thirteen medium shoe.”
“Can you handle it?” Conroe asked Geneva.
“Yes, but it’s going to take a while. We may be cutting it close.”
“I know you’ll get it done,” Conroe said.
“Right.” Geneva rushed toward the door.
“And don’t forget my dress,” Conroe added, in singsong style.
Geneva looked back and smiled. “I’ve got everything under control.” She went out the door.
Conroe turned to Crane. “Just sit down and relax for a few minutes, sweetie. I need to go talk to Mother.”
“The queen?”
“You think this is kind of cool, huh?”
“Well, it’s just that I’ve never met a queen.”
“And now you’re about to marry one.” Conroe gave him a quick kiss on the lips as though she had done it a hundred times before. “I’ll be back soon, baby.”
“Okay.”
She left.
This was really happening to him—and it was crazy. In a couple of hours, he was going to marry a girl he’d met less than a week ago, a girl who was about to become the queen of a kingdom in a future world that looked like the past. It was no wonder he felt dizzy.
He sat down in a stuffed chair and looked around the room. There was something on Conroe’s dresser that looked like a laptop.
Crane went over and opened the top, and it came to life. It was the time travel computer. The keyboard included most of the keys he would have expected—plus some odd ones he’d never seen before. He spotted the battery level indicator on the screen, which showed five percent power remaining. He was surprised to see several icons labeled with his name. There was no mouse or touchpad, so he tapped a screen icon with his finger. A video, entitled Crane song 1, started playing.
He watched himself singing and playing guitar in the bedroom of his last foster home. He knew it must have been recorded more than a year ago, and he wondered how Conroe had done it. Had there been a hidden camera in his room?
Stopping the first video, he tapped Crane song 2. This one was embarrassing—watching himself write a song in real time, trying lyrics that didn’t work, rewriting them, working out the melody, sometimes hitting sour notes. Yet, Conroe had fallen in love with him while watching things like this.
There were at least two dozen files with his name on them, most including the word song. Could a love based primarily on singing last a lifetime?
The battery level indicator began to flash: three percent.
He noticed one file titled Crane end, which he assumed was her last recording of him singing. He ran the video and saw himself walking up to the back door of Dave’s Diner. It was dark. He took out a ring of keys and unlocked the door. Crane was confused—this had never happened. How had Conroe recorded something that didn’t happen?
He saw himself step inside the door and close it. But before he could lock the door, a man wearing a mask forced his way inside. Crane watched as the man pointed a pistol at him and demanded money. When Crane told the man that all the money was in the safe and that he didn’t know the combination, the man shot him in the chest and ran out.
Crane watched himself lie bleeding on the floor. He wondered when someone else would arrive and call 9-1-1. Would he see himself being picked up by paramedics and carried to the hospital? Would there be a scene with a surgeon in the operating room?
Time passed, but nobody came. He finally stopped breathing.
The video ended.
The battery level indicator flashed one percent, and then the screen went black.
Crane got up, walked out of Conroe’s bedroom, and began wandering the halls of the castle in a daze, looking for her. Finally, he heard her voice.
“I will not do it, Mother. I will not marry a man I do not love.”
“Don’t be foolish, Conroe. The monarchy must take precedence over love. You shall marry Wilford Wincraft, and you shall do it with joy and dignity.”
Who was Wilford Wincraft? Crane had heard enough. He walked away, shaking his head, wondering why he had come to this strange world. He needed some air.
38
Crane took one of the horses and rode out to the grassy clearing where he and Conroe had come out of the Dream Tunnel. Perhaps Conroe was wrong. Maybe there was a way to go backward through the tunnel. He searched the area for a rock wall that could be the closed-off end of the tunnel, but he found nothing.
He wondered if he could get into the tunnel the same way they got onto the bridge from the other end—by dreaming about it. But Conroe had said that it was never about dreaming—it was the electronics of the time travel computer that enabled them to go from one world to the other.
But he wasn’t sure about anything anymore, so why not give it a shot? Lying down in the grass, he tried to relax and fall asleep while picturing himself traveling back through the tunnel and over the bridge. He was beginning to get drowsy when something stung him on the side of his neck. He forced himself to ignore the fire ant or bee or whatever it was—because he was beginning to go under. At any moment, he would be inside the Dream Tunnel.
39
Conroe walked into her room. “Hope you didn’t get too bored while I was…Crane? Where are you?”
No answer.
She searched the hallways, checked each room, and then she went outside and saw that a horse was missing. “Oh, Crane—what are you doing?” She prayed he hadn’t gone near the cliff. The grassy clearing was closer, so she would check it first.
She saw his horse as she approached the area. But where was Crane?
When she got closer, she spotted him lying on the ground. “Crane—what are doing? We’ve got to get ready for the wedding. Come on.”
Crane didn’t move or even open his eyes.
She got down from her horse and went over to kneel beside him. “Sweetie?” She touched his cheek. It was cold. “Crane? Wake up.”
“He’s going to be out for a while.”
Conroe recognized the voice. She turned around and saw Frederick sitting on his horse. “Frederick—what have you done?”
“Why do you assume that I’ve done something?”
“I don’t assume—I know, because I know you.”
“Yes, I suppose you do, even after all these years.” He grinned. “Your fiancé is enjoying a deep, restful sleep brought on by a small dose of Redberry juice.” He held up a blowgun. “But he’ll be wide awake in a couple of hours.”
Conroe searched Crane’s body for the dart, found it on the other side of his neck, and pulled it out. “It’s not going to work, Frederick. There’s nothing you can do to stop me from becoming queen.”
“Oh, really. Well, I happen to know that if you are not married by 7:12 this evening, which is twenty-four hours before you turn eighteen, you will forfeit your eligibility,” he taunted.
She flinched.
A pompous smile flashed across Frederick’s face. “What? You didn’t think I knew the details of the law? You cannot possibly make it to the church in time. So, at precisely 7:12, your eligibility will pass to me.” He took the reins of Conroe and Crane’s horses.
She lung
ed toward him.
“Get back.” He held up the blowgun. “I don’t want to have to use this on you.”
She stopped in her tracks.
“You believed in love above all else, Conroe, and how has it repaid you? It’s turned you into a pitiful fool.” He laughed as he rode away with the horses.
Conroe went back to Crane, who was struggling to open his eyes.
“Crane?”
“Where am I?”
“You’re in a nightmare. We both are. You’ve got to get up—now.”
40
Frederick walked down the side aisle of the church and sat with his mother, Opal. “It’s done,” he whispered.
Opal smiled at him.
He watched the church clock. It struck 6:00 p.m.
Organ music began to play.
Frederick looked confused. “This is impossible.”
Opal grimaced at her son.
The priest stepped up to the platform, followed by the groom, who was wearing a black tux and the traditional black wedding face mask, with its perpetual expression of happiness.
The priest raised his arms, a signal for the congregation to stand in honor of the bride.
Everyone stood up and turned around. The bride wore a stunning wedding dress and white wedding face mask. Wally walked her down the aisle.
“I don’t believe it,” Frederick marveled.
The bride’s dress sparkled with diamonds and silver. The royal train glided along the aisle behind her.
She stopped to allow Wally to join the queen in her pew and then walked up the stairs to the altar, taking her place beside the groom. Her train flowed across all ten stairs behind her.
The organ music stopped.
The priest read several passages of scripture and then nodded to the bride.
She removed her mask.
The priest gasped. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I’m sorry.” The bride turned around, and the queen saw her face.
The queen jumped to her feet. “Geneva! Where is Conroe?”
Geneva turned back to the priest and then looked down.
The queen looked at her husband. “Wally, what do you know about this?”