by Jahn, Amalie
My stomach turned inside out and my heart was no longer beating. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that the day would end with an invitation for a date with Charlie. My head was yelling at my mouth to speak but my mouth was unresponsive.
“Brooke?” he said.
“Yes,” I replied.
“You don’t have to…”
“No. I meant yes. Yes, I’d love to go.”
“You would? Okay!” he exclaimed. “But I don’t know where you live. I assume you don’t just hang out here at the vacant lot!”
The tension was broken. “No! Although I enjoy camping out, even this would be a stretch for me! I live past Parson’s Creek,” I said, “off Snowy Gap Road.”
“Here,” he said as he dug his phone from his pocket. “Give me yours and we can just exchange info.”
I handed him my phone and took his. I typed in my full name, Brooke Wallace, my phone number, and my address. In a million years, I never would have dreamed that I would be exchanging information with Charlie, and yet, here I was with his phone in my hand.
When I was finished, I handed the phone back to him, and he mine. There was an awkward pause before he broke the silence.
“Can I call you tomorrow to let you know what time I’ll pick you up?” he asked.
“Of course. I can’t wait.” The last part was out before I knew what I was saying.
“Bye Brooke,” he said, smiling. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” I replied.
And that was it. Charlie ran over to his car, climbed in the driver’s seat, and drove away, waving at me still standing in the same spot like an idiot as he pulled off.
For the longest time I could not move. I was figuratively and literally frozen in place. The enormity of what had transpired over the course of the afternoon left me in a state of utter disbelief. The dreaded ball had remained firmly on the ground the entire time. Therefore, Mr. Cooper remained ignorant of his damaged roof, thus ensuring there would be no need for Branson to clean the attic. It practically guaranteed that he would never be exposed to the asbestos. And, as if all the stars in the universe were aligning just for me, Charlie Johnson was not only aware of my existence, but asked me to a party. Me. Brooke Wallace. The next thing I knew I was running. And skipping. And twirling around like the fool that I was.
“BEST DAY EVER!” I hollered to everyone who could hear me and no one at all.
By the time I arrived home, the rest of the family was seated around the kitchen table scooping my mother’s homemade stew into their bowls. As I opened the back door, warmth and the aroma of spicy chicken stock enveloped me. I threw down my backpack, coat and keys on the counter and then, having spent the afternoon running around like a eight year old, collapsed into my seat at the table. The members of my family stared openly at me. My father put down his spoon. Branson raised an eyebrow. Only my mother spoke.
“There’s a boy, isn’t there?” she asked.
What? How did she know? “No.” I paused. “Maybe,” I responded, unable to suppress the excitement in my voice.
“Who is it?” Branson immediately inquired, unable to restrain himself in the slightest.
I hesitated. I knew that my exuberance was only in part because of Charlie. He was only the icing on the cake. The real joy stemmed from my success in having saved Branson. But of course, that fact could not be disclosed. I reasoned that it was only fair to let my family share in the happiness that comes from knowing the ones you love are in love.
“His name is Charlie Johnson. I met his little sister Melody this afternoon and when he came to pick her up, we hit it off. He invited me to a party tomorrow night. He’s coming here to pick me up,” I squealed, unable to repress my excitement any longer.
“Brooke’s got a boyfriend! Brooke’s got a boyfriend!” Branson teased, engaging himself in full-blown little brother mode.
Glaring at him from across the table, I considered bringing up Jill Overstreet, but suppressed the urge, knowing the drawings I saw of her were ill gotten. I quickly softened, deciding that having a little brother to tease me was something I was happy to put up with if it meant I would have the opportunity to grow old with him.
I looked at the bowl of stew in front of me and realized that I was starving. Not only had I spent the afternoon running around, but I had also forgotten my lunch in the morning’s rush. I quickly finished my first serving and without asking, helped myself to a second and third bowl.
After exchanging sideways glances with my mother for several minutes, my father was the first to open the dialogue regarding my impending date.
“So, this Charlie… where does he go to school?” he asked.
“Hawk’s Ridge,” I responded.
“Oh, an ‘ivy leaguer,’” he teased. “Just what do you know about this kid?”
“He has a little sister named Melody, but I said that. He’s on the debate team and the swim team, and he’s a pretty fast runner. He drives a sensible midsize car and he seems super nice.”
“And the party?” he continued.
“Out at the lake. A bonfire with some friends. Nothing one on one Dad.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“Well good. You don’t really know this boy and until you do, let’s keep things casual, if you know what I mean. And I’m going to talk to this Charlie when he gets here tomorrow night or you aren’t going,” my father said, eyebrows furrowed.
I rolled my eyes again. “Yes Daddy.”
I soaked up the last of my stew with a small crust of bread and cleared my place, asking to be excused.
I sprinted up the stairs to call Sarah and share the news about Charlie with her from the privacy of my own room. After relaying all the details of the afternoon, minus the ball success, Sarah agreed to come over the following afternoon to help me decide what to wear to the party.
As I lay in bed, I could not help but smile to myself knowing what had been accomplished in a single afternoon. My entire life was going to be different when I returned to the present. I prayed silently that the government would never discover my transgressions. As a young girl, my trip would generate little suspicion. The government had millions of trips to monitor and I knew that they used most of their resources tracking the trips of the wealthy and powerful. I was neither. Still, I hoped that the changes I had made would not negatively impact anyone else’s timeline, as it was never my intent to do harm.
My last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were of how Charlie’s timeline would be different now that I was in it, and how Branson would never know the reality of preparing for his own death. Everything was right with the world.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The following day, Sarah arrived as planned to help me decide what to wear to the party, but more importantly, to gab about my impending date with someone other than Paul McGregor. Sarah had gone out with several boys during high school, but never anyone seriously. She seemed almost as giddy as I was over the prospect of Charlie and me getting together.
Charlie had called before lunch to confirm that he would pick me up at six o’clock. The conversation had been painfully brief. I found that I could not think of anything remotely interesting to say, as my brain seemed unable to communicate with my mouth. Luckily, he was similarly tongue-tied but did at least manage to express excitement about spending the evening together.
Although I had been a ball of nerves, somehow I had managed to make it through the day. I was zipping up the back of my leather boot when Branson appeared in my bedroom to announce that Charlie was pulling in the drive.
“So, see ya, Sis,” he said, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
“See ya,” I replied.
“I can’t believe you are leaving me home alone with Mom and Dad. Mom wants to watch ‘The Sound of Music’ and Dad is stringing fly fishing reels… again. It’s no fun without you around,” he moaned, throwing himself across my bed.
“You’ll be fine. Maybe Chad can come over.”
“He can�
��t. I already asked. He’s at his sister’s ballet recital.”
“Ooohhh!” I said laughing. “Didn’t you want to go with him?”
“Funny.”
The doorbell rang downstairs. I froze. I may have even stopped breathing.
Fearing that I had gone catatonic, Branson said, “Um, hello? That’s probably him at the door.”
I threw on my heaviest down-lined coat with the faux fur lining around the hood and stood in front of the mirror. I was determined not to wear my hat as I had spent almost an hour on my hair, but I stashed it in my coat pocket just in case.
“You better hurry, Brooke. Need I remind you that Loverboy is down there with Dad right now?” Branson teased.
I punched Branson in the bicep and I headed out the door. The staircase seemed especially daunting and I held the handrail to support myself as I walked down. I could hear my father’s voice, soft and calm with a hint of amusement, as I reached the landing.
He was there. Charlie Johnson, standing in my foyer talking to my father. Both wore smiles and I took that as a sign that Charlie met with my father’s approval. Both turned in my direction as I descended the stairs.
“Glad to see you’re dressed warmly Brooke,” my father said. “It’s gonna be a bitter one out there tonight since that front moved through this morning. Do you have a hat?”
“Yes Dad,” I replied trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “Hi Charlie,” I added.
“Hey Brooke,” he said.
He was dressed in the same manner as he had been the day before in blue jeans and a worn canvas coat. His leather boots were stylish yet practical and his hair was disheveled, as it had been every time I had seen him. A look of relief washed across his face as I made it into the foyer, and I could not tell if it was because he was happy to see me or merely because he was glad to have an excuse to end his conversation with my father.
“So Brooke, you didn’t tell me Charlie here is Phil Johnson’s boy,” my father said, putting a conspiratorial arm around Charlie’s shoulders.
The name Phil Johnson floated around in my head. I knew the name from somewhere but was unable to place it. I gave them both a blank stare.
“Charlie’s dad is our state senator, Brooke. Didn’t you think that was an important piece of information to share?” he laughed.
“I didn’t know,” I stated simply.
“Oh! Well, now you do!” He paused. “You two have a good time tonight and stay warm. Brooke, don’t be too late. We have church in the morning,” Dad said as I headed through the front door. He seemed much more at ease now that he knew his daughter was safe with the son of an elected official.
“Yes Daddy,” I said.
“Goodbye Mr. Wallace,” Charlie said graciously to my father.
“Bye you two,” he replied.
And with that, we were out the door and my date with Charlie Johnson had begun. He led me to his car, the same navy midsize he had driven the day before, and opened the passenger’s side door so that I could slide in. Once inside, he turned over the engine and the sound system came to life. A bluesy folk song full of mellow harmonies began to play and I loved it instantly.
After a minute or so I found the ability to speak. “You didn’t tell me about your dad being the Phil Johnson,” I teased, using my father’s most impressed voice.
“Yeah, I usually keep that one in my back pocket,” he laughed. “I find it really charms the ladies. Only a certain sort though.”
“Oh, of course,” I replied, “And what about the sort who spends her afternoons frolicking with elementary school children in vacant lots?”
“Not so much,” Charlie smiled.
“Hmmm,” I paused. “So what’s it like being the senator’s son?”
“I guess probably about how you would think it would be,” he answered. “My dad’s gone a lot, so most of the time it’s just me and Melody and my mom. Campaign time is the worst. I had to pose for this stupid commercial with him during the last election. But he works hard and I think he’s done a lot to protect our district, so it’s fine.” He paused to look at me. “You won’t find me going into politics though.”
“Why not?”
“My dad spends his whole life answering to other people. Constituents, lobbyists, the press. He never really gets to decide what he wants to do from day to day. I want to be in charge of my own life. Make my own decisions, you know?”
“Yeah. I do. So what do you want to do? Where are you going to college?” I asked.
“I haven’t decided. I was accepted to State and Tech. And Harvard,” he added, not looking away from the road to gauge my reaction. Then he said, “I’d love to be an engineer. Make stuff. Figure out how things work. I guess time will tell. What about you?”
It had been so long since I thought at all about my own future that I was at a loss for words. For over a year my only purpose in life had been saving Branson. Now that I had, I supposed it was time to start thinking about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
“I’m going to State. Hopefully the pre-med program. I want to be a vet,” I said simply as if it was as easy as that. Suddenly, I laughed aloud. As the words came out it dawned on me that it actually would be easy in comparison to traveling through time in order to save my brother’s life. College would be a piece of cake.
“What’s funny?” Charlie asked taking his eyes off the road to gaze quizzically at me.
“Nothing, really. I guess I just haven’t given my future much thought recently. Graduation will be here in no time and I really haven’t done any sort of planning,” I laughed.
There was a pause and Charlie changed the song playing on the stereo to something upbeat and alternative. He began singing along.
“So, Harvard huh?” I said finally, interrupting the chorus.
“Yeah. My dad made me apply. I don’t have any intention of going there. I think it makes him happy to be able to tell people that I was accepted. I’ll probably just go to State. It’s a great school. Close by. Good engineering program. And the best part,” he said, reaching across the console to place his hand on mine, “is that I already know a pretty girl going there.”
I immediately stopped breathing. All the nerves in my body stood at attention, as if being electrified by some unnamed current streaming from Charlie’s hand into my own. During the months since Branson’s death, I had accepted that pain and emptiness would be the primary emotions of my existence. To feel something so powerfully positive was almost too much to process. It was all I could do not to pull away.
“So tell me about you. Melody said you were a camp counselor at Seneca Grove. How long have you been doing that?” Charlie asked nonchalantly, as if holding my hand was the most natural thing he could be doing. I was so enchanted by his fingers encircling mine that I almost missed the question. I played his words over again in my head. He had mentioned something about Seneca Grove.
Then it hit me. The lie I had told to the children so they would not think I was some psychopath waiting around to play with a group of elementary school children. I had never stepped foot on the grounds of Seneca Grove, much less worked there. I hated to continue lying to Charlie, but I certainly could not explain the reason for my dishonesty. I dug what I hoped would be only a slightly deeper hole for myself.
“Oh, yeah, I just did a week long training session with a friend of mine as a guest a couple of years ago. I never actually worked there. But I learned a lot of fun activities during the training,” I added, hoping my little white lie would be enough to pacify his interest.
“Well, you seem to really like kids and they seem to really like you!” he said. “Maybe you should be a teacher instead of a vet? Or maybe you should be a vet, if you are as good with animals as you are with kids.”
“I like children,” I said. After a moment I continued, “Growing up, it was just Branson, my brother, and me. We had a wonderful childhood together. We would spend hours and hours inventing games and pretending to
be citizens of our own make believe worlds. I guess that part of me has just never gone away. Unlike so many people I know, I’ve never been in a real hurry to grow up. I liked being a kid. It was easy, you know?”
“Yeah. I do know. No responsibilities. No expectations. No father breathing down your neck about holding up the family name.” He was smiling, but I could tell I had touched upon a sore subject.
“Things were simple, weren’t they?” I commented, ruminating about my life before Branson’s illness.
“Well, you can kiss your cares goodbye now Missy, because we are here,” Charlie said brightly as he turned the car on to the gravel side road leading up to the lake.
I could not believe we had already arrived. Our easy conversation shortened an otherwise lengthy journey. Charlie pulled his hand from mine to maneuver the car into the wooded area and left coldness where the warmth had been. I could faintly make out the glow of a fire through the considerable wall of evergreens. I felt Charlie looking at me as he pulled the key from the ignition, and I tilted my head in his direction to return his gaze.
“So, my friends,” he began, “are mostly really nice people. You’ll like Marshall. He’s hilarious. And you’ll like Courtney and Taylor too. They’re on the swim team with me. I don’t know if Carson is going to be here, but he’s kind of a jerk, so just ignore him if he is.”
As I was making a mental tally sheet of friends and foes, the look on my face must have given away my heightened level of anxiety. Charlie placed a compassionate hand on my knee.
“It’s gonna be fine. They’re gonna love you. It’s totally brave of you to come here with me not knowing anyone, but you’ll have tons of new friends by the time we leave, I promise,” he said.
I smiled. Charlie thought I was brave. Like the cowardly lion. Brave despite all outward appearances.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I asked, my nerves immediately subsiding. “Let’s go!”
Charlie smiled radiantly at me and I opened the door, letting a wave of frigid night air invade the car. I was instantly thankful that I had worn my warmest coat and boots. After locking the car behind us, Charlie met me at the entrance of the forest path. As he finished buttoning his coat, he reached again for my hand. He wore unusual mittens - the kind that pull back to reveal bare fingers underneath should you have need of your digits. As if I needed another reason, the fact that he would wear those silly gloves made me like him even more. There was something childlike and unassuming about Charlie Johnson that was irresistibly enchanting to me.