by Anne B. Cole
Ruby’s smile faded as she merged on the highway. “It’ll be hard today.”
Sam stared at the odometer as it ticked to 00604. The day Dr. Todd Dobbs died.
The hum of the old engine kept his focus on what he needed to do and away from falling into the depths of guilt. He gazed at Ruby, sitting straight, nose barely over the dash. Two big pillows behind her back enabled her feet to reach the pedals. Her hands death-gripped the steering wheel while her eyes stayed locked on the road.
Ruby had definitely lived through the death of a loved one, perhaps very recently.
“It doesn’t get easier, does it?” Sam’s question made her visibly swallow.
She cleared her throat. “I wish I could tell you it did.” A sigh passed over her lips. “Death is a loss. There is no cure or replacement. Gretta will learn to cope with it but for now, there will be a lot of stupid people around who don’t understand.”
Ruby’s words echoed true with Sam. At his mother’s funeral, words of condolence sometimes hurt more than silence. Tears from people who hardly knew his mother had infuriated him. The spectrum of emotions would run its rampant course today, taking hold of Gretta.
“She’s strong, stronger than you think.” Ruby remained focused on the road.
Sam eyed the elderly nurse as they motored along, wondering why she had taken it upon herself to care for him, the way a close relative might. She twisted the radio knob, distracting his thoughts. Rap music blared from the speakers.
“Find something worth listening to, Sam.” Ruby’s face crinkled in disgust.
He fumbled with the knobs before coming across a static-filled AM station. An old Eagles’ tune crackled in the air, turning the corners of Sam’s mouth in a half smile that didn’t abate even when Ruby hit a pothole and jarred the vehicle. ‘Peaceful, Easy Feeling’ rang clear through the speakers.
They drove the rest of the way, chatting about the car, the music, the weather, anything other than the funeral.
Ruby left the highway and meandered through the small town of Farmington.
Sam suddenly recognized the park where he worked construction last Saturday. They would soon pass the exact spot where the tree crashed upon them. He couldn’t help but relive the moment when Gretta stood in the direct path of the falling oak. He should have pulled her out of the way instead of slamming her to the street head first.
‘What ifs’ crept into his mind.
What if I hadn’t reached Gretta in time? What if the tree trunk crushed her to death? Or both of us? What if we were not knocked unconscious and never met Roxana? What if Gretta chose not to time travel to learn more about the curses on her ring? What if all these things didn’t happen? Her father would be alive today.
Sam attempted to refocus. After the tree had crashed, in less than one minute of real time, he experienced months of adventure, love, and even death within Roxana’s brother, Lorenzo.
Back in real time, Gretta’s father died.
Bad luck.
A chill ran up his spine. Katarina, his long dead ancestor, made it clear it was dangerous for him to be near Gretta. Danger or not, he promised he’d never leave her again.
Ruby pulled into a crowded church parking lot. The queue of mourners wound to the street in front of Saint Catherine’s Church. Ruby parked the Olds and patted Sam’s knee. “Gretta may not say so, but she will be glad to see you.”
Sam stared at the church and imagined Gretta inside, greeting people. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of the old car. His sweaty hand gripped the door latch.
Ruby opened the car door and helped him out. With a deep breath, she took Sam’s good arm and ushered him into the church through a side entrance.
He spotted Gretta seated on a wooden folding chair surrounded by several friends. On the opposite side of the room, the long line of visitors tearfully hugged her mother, Claire, and the rest of the family. Ruby waved at Pop and nudged Sam in Gretta’s direction. Pop reached them before they made it across the crowded room.
“Thanks Ruby, for taking care of Sam.” Pop wore his formal police attire.
“How’s Gretta?” Sam asked, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the crowd.
Pop gestured wearily. “Hard to say.”
Gretta stood as Sam made his way to her. Her friends whispered to each other as he drew closer.
“Hey.” Sam awkwardly embraced Gretta with his good arm. Her curly ponytail grazed his fingertips. Makeup had been applied to cover her bruised cheek. A black, long-sleeved dress hid the numerous intravenous marks from her hospital stay.
Her gaze held him, yet remained expressionless. But a cold hand found warmth within his.
Sam parted his lips to say something comforting. No words came forth. As those blue-jean blue eyes of hers widened, the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. His heart ached to take her hurt away.
“Please be seated,” the funeral director announced. Eerie tones of an organ pulsated through the air, confirming the start of the procession.
Sam squeezed Gretta’s cold hand. As she stepped forward, her entire body trembled.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, pulling Sam back from his thoughts.
“It’ll be all right.” He cradled his good arm around her and guided her, behind her family, down the aisle of the church and into the designated front pew.
The funeral service took an hour, but Sam hardly noticed the time. Twice Gretta didn’t stand when the rest of the congregation did. He ignored the stares and remained seated with her. When it was time to leave he guided her gently to her feet and led her to the limousine. She silently refused to get in behind her sister, so Sam escorted her to Ruby’s car.
As Pop drove, Ruby kept a careful eye on Gretta. No one spoke during the ten-minute drive. Sam wriggled out of his suit coat and draped it around her shoulders.
A short prayer service at the cemetery was followed by the lowering of the casket into the freshly dug earth. Gretta shivered despite Sam’s jacket and the fact it was warm for early June. Family and friends slowly departed. Soon only the immediate family and a few close relatives remained.
Tears poured down Claire’s cheeks. Gretta’s siblings flanked her sides. Fifteen-year-old Bobby held his mother, with Emily, twenty, stepping to her other side.
Gretta released Sam’s hand. “I have to go.”
Sam nodded, knowing she needed time with her family. To his surprise, she walked briskly to the car.
“Gretta?” Sam called to her, but she didn’t stop.
A vise-like grip clamped his arm.
“When was the last time you took your meds?” The fire in Ruby’s words reminded him of Katarina, his spirit ancestor he’d met when time traveling.
“Eight this morning.”
Ruby pressed keys into his hand. “Go on, stay with her. We’ll get a ride back to the church.” At Ruby’s side, Pop nodded encouragingly.
Sam dashed to the parking lot where Gretta stood, struggling with the locked door of the Olds. He shoved the key in the lock. In one swift motion, the door flew open, and she fell inside. Outwardly frustrated, she fumbled around the front seat as he slid behind the wheel.
“There are no seat belts,” he answered her unasked question, and started the motor.
Gretta stared at him in disbelief. Somehow, Sam knew her thoughts, that her father had been insistent about how seat belts saved lives. Even though they hadn’t saved him.
As he shifted into gear, she dug her fingernails into her knees. “Take me home. Please.”
The ride was accomplished in silence, Gretta indicating where to turn and then park the Olds. Before Sam could turn off the engine, she jumped from the car and hurried to the front yard with its wide porch. She paused before stepping up to the swing. A wrinkled yellow com
forter covered one end.
She stared at the blanket, unable to move.
“I was sitting right here when Mom gave me—” She wrung her hands together, clutching the garnet ring around her ring finger.
Sam lifted the comforter and wrapped it around her, easing her beside him on the swing. Sunshine streamed over them, yet her entire body remained frigid. He pulled her close and slowly rocked the swing.
The phone in his pocket vibrated. A text from Pop lit the screen. Sam quickly responded, letting him know where they were.
“I can’t go back.” Gretta shrank deeper into the comforter.
“We’ll stay here as long as you want.” Sam tightened his arm around her and gently kissed her forehead.
She seemed bewildered for a moment, or perhaps afraid. He shouldn’t have been so forward. He wanted to make her pain go away, make the sadness disappear. He wanted to kiss her, to make love to her, but knew this was not the time.
Just as he was about to give her some space and apologize, Gretta touched her head to his chest and closed her eyes. Her trembling began to subside.
Sam’s thoughts raced back to when they entered Purgatory-In-Tartarus with Roxana and Katarina. Sam and Katarina had escaped the terrors of what some nicknamed the ‘PIT,’ but Gretta and Roxana were trapped within. Minutes later they had emerged terrified, ice cold, unresponsive, and as close to death as he had ever seen. He had promised—even though she was destined to Purgatory-In-Tartarus upon death by the cursed ring—that he would make sure she never returned.
Is she remembering? Sam again kissed the top of her head and cradled her against his side.
After a few minutes, Gretta’s breathing became slow and regular. Sam rested his head against the back of the swing and relaxed for the first time in days.
The thud of a car door awakened him. Sam winced as his shoulder throbbed from the awkward position he was in. A glance at his watch revealed they had been asleep for over an hour.
Gretta carefully loosened his tie and grazed a cool hand across his swollen shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have leaned on you. I’ll get some ice.”
Sam hastily averted his eyes. He didn’t want her to see his reaction to her touch. Ice would help. Gretta beside him, even better.
“No, I’m good. Are your hands always cold?”
She instantly pulled away. “Sorry.”
“No, cold is good.” Sam returned her hand to his shoulder.
Gretta frowned, but slid her hand under his sling. Her touch made Sam draw in a quick breath, and his heart pounded. He sighed as the pain melted away.
“My feet are even colder, but that would be kind of weird.” She glanced under her lashes at him.
Here’s the Gretta I fell in love with. It took everything in him not to lean down and kiss her.
“I don’t believe you.” Sam cautiously grinned.
Gretta kicked off her heels and tucked one bare foot against Sam’s leg. No smile, but he was thrilled at her response. He tugged at the comforter, tucking it around her toes, the nails painted purple.
She edged closer, lightly tracing her cold fingers over his swollen clavicle. Sam eased his right arm around her as she laid her head on his good shoulder.
“What is it with you?” Emily’s demanding voice intruded. She stood at the foot of the front porch steps. Her boyfriend, Drew, began taking flower arrangements out of his car.
Gretta yanked out of Sam’s hold, putting too much pressure on his broken collarbone. He grew lightheaded as pain swept through his upper body. He stifled a groan with a cough. Emily noticed. Thankfully Gretta didn’t.
The sisters stared at each other, Emily’s expression full of hatred; Gretta’s, horror.
“You don’t care whom you hurt. Do you? You’re not even upset. This is your fault. Dad stayed awake all night because of you.” Emily choked back a sob. “You don’t cry, you don’t talk. You just lie around, snuggling with him.” Angry tears burned Emily’s face. “You killed Dad. I wish you were the one dead.”
As Sam and Gretta sat in shocked silence, Drew gently took Emily’s arm, which she ripped away from his grasp.
“Em, please. You don’t—”
Pop’s patrol car pulled into the long driveway. Emily hesitated as her mother, uncle, Pop, and Ruby exited.
“Yes, I mean every word. I hate you,” she shouted. Then her voice dropped ominously, but still loud enough for Gretta and Sam to hear. “How can you sit there like nothing happened when everything is your fault?”
Drew dragged Emily away from the porch. He mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”
Gretta didn’t react, didn’t respond. Sam reached for her hand, but she shrank away.
“It is my fault.” Her small voice rang in his ears.
Ruby and Claire approached before Sam could reply. He stood and tried to go after Emily, when a firm hand gripped his arm. Pop’s knowing eyes met his in understanding, but Sam knew Pop wouldn’t let him interfere.
Claire sat on the other side of Gretta and touched her knee. “Honey, I’m sorry. Emily is—”
Ruby stepped forward. “Emily needs time and space. It may be a good idea for Gretta to stay somewhere else for a few days.” The nurse faced Claire directly. “The doctor said Gretta should be resting with limited visitors. There will be relatives and friends in and out of here for at least another week.” Ruby eyed Pop briefly.
Gretta stared at the garnet ring on her finger.
“I’ll be stopping by to take care of Sam a few hours every day until his surgery. He will need me for at least another week or two afterward,” Ruby added. “It would save me a second house call if both of the kids were under the same roof.”
Her bold announcement didn’t seem to take anyone by surprise. Pop appeared to be in a trance.
Sam concentrated on Claire’s expression, softening from wide-eyed shock to peaceful . . . what? Consent?
Ruby frowned when she spotted the smile twitching the corners of his mouth. Gretta and me in the same house. Warm elation filled him with the possibilities.
“Sam, let me adjust your sling.” Ruby glared at him. She tightened a strap, sending a wave of discomfort through his arm.
Got it. No more grinning.
She patted Sam’s shoulder and eyed Claire.
“That would be fine,” Claire announced.
“Tim?” Ruby’s piercing stare moved to Pop.
“We have plenty of room,” he replied.
Sam’s mouth dropped open. He quickly clenched it shut. Without explanation or hesitation, Ruby had convinced both parents to allow Gretta to stay at his house. Unbelievable.
Ruby touched Gretta’s shoulder. “What do you think? I’d take you in myself, but I need to work and you cannot be left alone.”
Sam wanted to say he’d be right there and would never leave Gretta. His intended words were silenced at Ruby’s pursed lips and quick frown.
After a long pause, Gretta nodded in agreement, expressionless.
With a murmured, “Thank you” to Ruby and Pop, Claire disappeared inside the house. Sam held Gretta’s limp hand on the porch swing while Ruby and Pop followed Claire to pack a bag for Gretta.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Sam gave her fingers a squeeze, praying he would say the right thing. “Emily is grieving. It might have helped when she let it out. I don’t think she meant it.” As Gretta’s face changed slightly from a blank expression to one of sadness, he tried reassurance. “After a while it gets a little easier. Nothing will replace your dad. You won’t think you can but somehow you manage. You’re not alone, Gretta.”
Her eyes raised to his. They were filling, yet she continued the struggle to contain them. Sam stroked her hand. “It’s okay to cry.”
Her forehead cri
nkled, followed by a small gasp. He pulled her close as tears cascaded down her pale face.
Chapter 3
Sleeping on the Couch
Gretta
Aching with exhaustion and drenched in sweat, Gretta ran. Pushing her legs faster, her lungs screamed for air. When she reached the summit, she didn’t peer down. She kept her sight riveted on the horizon where the endless blue-green sea touched a cloudless cerulean sky. The calming colors welcomed her. In the sky, she would be safe. On the ground, fear filled her entire being. She refused to make the same mistake twice.
Last time, she hesitated.
Her feet leapt off the earth, plunging her body into nothingness. Air swooshed against her cheeks. Her body tingled as she spiraled downward. The sky and water blurred together in soft hues, surrounding her, soothing her.
Crashing seawater far below sang to her flailing body. The sea would cleanse her. No more blood. No more fear. In the end, she would patiently wait for him. She took comfort in knowing he would also die.
Too long.
Her plummet continued well past the time she imagined it would take to reach the sea. Did I fail? Am I already dead? Will I forever suffer this cruel fate of being perpetually afraid?
Terror gripped her. A terror that had held her before, so horrific, her mind protected her from remembering anything about it.
Except for its name.
Purgatory-In-Tartarus.
No sound burst from her lips in her attempt to scream. She prayed to hit the sharp rocks within the water. She needed to end the fear, the horror, and the shame. Her silent screams continued throughout the endless drop.