We managed to convince Mrs. Lacy to allow us to take some food to the porch for the lupines and enjoyed our breakfast there. At first, I thought she might ban us from her premises, since Kipp couldn't stop himself from rushing the ducks; I gave him free reign, since this was his last opportunity. I knew, of course, he wouldn't injure them, but Mrs. Lacy was not amused. The ducks were like children to her, and she'd even named them; she held a particular fondness for one named Roscoe, which had been abandoned as a baby only to be hand raised by Mrs. Lacy. The moment held a surreal quality, almost as if the other events had not occurred—maybe had been part of some bizarre dream—and this was our new reality.
"Yes, I've decided I like grits," Kipp remarked, from our perch on the wide front porch upon which we sat. Peter and I shared a round, ornate wrought iron table, while the lupines stretched out on the worn, wooden planks of the porch. "It's just the texture seems kind of odd, and I think I have a grit stuck between my back molars."
"I'll floss for you when we get home," I replied, laughing.
"No, thanks," Kipp said, rolling his eyes up at me. 'I've seen you take that piece of string and dig between your teeth, and I'm not having any of it."
I admit, I forgot with whom we sat and was having an energized moment. Carelessly I remarked, "When you have no teeth, my lad, no sweet young lupine will look twice at you."
My comment inadvertently drew Elani's attention; her sentiments were such that she'd always have feelings–and strong ones—for Kipp. My partner, in the meantime, would have blushed, if' he'd had flesh like mine. Kipp gave me a look of such savagery that I unconsciously raised my hand to my throat.
"Really sorry," I muttered in a private exchange between us two.
Thankfully, our brief break was at a close. Fuller signaled it was time to leave and drove us all back to the train, herding us carefully like sheep. He was a man about his business with an ever cautious eye on his pocket watch. As I gazed out of the window of the club car, the men of the training companies that stretched off into the distance on the far side of the tracks were stirring. I saw the early morning sunlight glint off of bayonets and caught a tantalizing whiff of pork frying in skillets. The rows of tents stood out amongst the green of the grassy meadow and small, sapling trees. I thought of General Thorpe and the fact this had been his life since he was a young man. The train's brakes released with an accompanying hiss of steam as pressure was vented from the boiler, and we were off again, quickly picking up speed on the tracks.
"What draws humans to a military life?" Elani asked.
Since I was not human, I had little to contribute. Peter shared history of men who pledged oaths to follow warlords and the concept of people being called to protect their homelands in ancient times. "It is as old as mankind," he concluded.
As the morning stretched on, we traveled through Etowah, Kingston, Calhoun, Tilton –and all the small stops in between—for water and wood along the way until we arrived in Dalton. It was with hesitation that we departed the club car. Personally, I wouldn't have objected to riding to the end terminus, but our time in 1862 had drawn to a close.
"If we ever came back, would they remember us?" Elani asked.
We were walking as a group down the narrow, center street of Dalton. None of us was eager to time shift yet and were in search of a tea room or little café for coffee or tea and a snack for the lupines. People who met us stared in curiosity at our odd party; the lupines' tall stature and Kipp's unusual coloring was an attention getter.
"That's a good question, Elani." I considered my reply because such thoughts could strain the edges of reason and logic. "If you were to come back after these people had met you, then, yes, they should recall you." I reached my hand down to scratch the top of her soft head, smiling as my fingertips found the funny little point on her skull. "If your timing was such that you arrived even a second before we did this time, then, no, you would not be remembered."
Peter touched my arm. "So, we could come back, arrive just a little earlier and have a do over and no one would know the difference?"
I stopped walking and turned to stare at him. A breeze caught his heavy mop of hair and for a moment the old, familiar forelock fell across his eyes. With a slight shrug, he tossed it to the side and stared back.
"Peter, this trip is done. Yes, technically we can do a "do over" and revisit this trip so that Murphy, Fuller and all the others would not know us. But what purpose would be served by that?"
He turned and started walking again. I hurried and caught him, looping my arm in his. Kipp took his familiar place at my side, while Elani flanked Peter. I finally made Peter stop and turn again to face me.
"You did fine, Peter. Yes, mistakes were made, but we are able to go home in one piece. If you learned from this trip, then the purpose was served." His dark eyes met mine. "You know, it didn't have to be perfect, nor will it ever be. Humans and symbionts alike live in an imperfect world, and there will always be too many variables for one to be in control of the outcome."
"Let's get some tea," he suggested, gently putting a period on my dissertation.
We found a little café at the end of town, and the proprietor brought us a pot of rather bland, uninteresting tea to a round table on the front porch where we could sit with the lupines. A plate of sugar cookies accompanied the pot; alas, there was no honey for me but there was a little crock of cream and some sugar. The chipped plate which held the stack of sugar cookies caught my interest. If I'd found it trying to hide on a dusty shelf in an antique store, the delicate pattern of wildflowers on the border would have compelled me to pick it up and examine it further. The hallmark on the reverse side would have hinted at its age. The little chip off the edge of otherwise perfect porcelain would have convinced me to take it home and give it a new family. Kipp, always fascinated by my sentimental and irrational side, smiled at me, his tail thumping the floor.
"Not quite like Fitzhugh's," Peter said, frowning as he gazed as his teacup and the amber liquid. He spent a full minute stirring his tea, the spoon making a sound as it scraped gently along the sides of the porcelain vessel. "I really do get it, Petra, in case you think I'm just being dull. I see what I did wrong, and I have learned. I guess what bothers me is..."
"Yes?" I prodded.
"I wanted to be really good... I wanted to be the best, I suppose." He ducked his head, his face blushing pink.
"Peter, when Petra and I took our first trip together to Land's Point Colony, she was accosted by the man who was responsible for murders that had terrorized the small group of humans who lived there," Kipp said. "I was a distance away but realized, telepathically, she was in danger. I began running towards her, determined to rescue her." Kipp looked up at me, his eyes large with the memory of that day. "She kept warning me off, telling me to stay clear, to let her handle it, but I wouldn't listen. I felt driven, compelled to reach her and protect her. The man hit me with a club, striking my shoulder, fracturing it. My pain was so great that it almost prevented us from being able to focus on our bond and travel home." Kipp paused for a moment. "I know all about messing up and doing exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time."
Peter took a sip of his tea and grimaced slightly. It was bitter, even with the addition of the cream and sugar. Leaning forward, he took a sugar cookie and broke it in half, offering a piece to Elani, who took it delicately in her massive jaws.
"Thanks, Kipp," Peter said, smiling at my partner. Looking down, he saw the gold watch chain that stretched across his vest. With slender fingers, he pulled his grandfather's watch from the little pocket and pushed in the stem, watching as the lid popped open. "At least I got the watch back."
"And you weren't hanged or sent to a military prison," I added, narrowing my eyes at him. "You're not going home with a head full of lice, either. Things can always be worse." After a moment, I added, "But there is the trip to the dentist to address that loose tooth. Things are worse, after all."
When we finished the tea and the l
upines polished off the remainder of the cookies, we decided to walk down the street. Peter's shoulder brushed mine; he was of average height but still taller than was I. His hand drifted down to capture mine; Peter's fingers curved up to intertwine with mine. I smiled up at him. To others, we could have been a pair of young lovers, perhaps a bit too overt in our affections for the sensibilities of a small, Southern town. Continuing to walk, we left habitation and continued until we found a pleasant meadow that stretched to meet a heavy growth of trees to the east. That seemed to be as good a place as any to stop, so after a look around to make certain no one was observing–Kipp did a mental sweep, also–we sat down, enjoying the scent of the thick meadow grass as well as the sprinkled clusters of wild flowers. Overhead, the honeybees buzzed and a few blue jays cawed loudly as they flew towards the forest.
I took my place with Kipp stretching out next to me. Peter no longer felt the need to copy our postures and was developing his unique style with Elani. My usual pattern was to lie on my back, with Kipp's head across my chest, my hands tangled in his auburn fur. Peter sat upright, knees crossed, Elani's large head on his knees.
"I think I'm more comfortable like this," he said, slightly defensively, as I watched.
"Whatever you want to do," I replied dismissively.
I was grateful to be heading home and had no plans for another shift anytime soon as the landscape began to blur and the sound of movement rushed in my ears.
Chapter 27
"Petra, did you forget to pick up my Earl Grey when you went shopping?" Fitzhugh's tone was whiney and quarrelsome. He'd been that way ever since I got home. The sound of his house shoes scuffed loudly on the bare wooden floor of the hallway as he approached the kitchen where I sat, trying to enjoy my first cup of coffee for the day. Kipp twisted his head and looked up at me, his tail thumping; Juno, too. I rolled my eyes and took a loud sip of the hot brew, which was black and probably a little too strong; my heart rate surged in response to the caffeine.
Kipp was using a stylus, firmly gripped between his teeth, to read a new book on his Kindle, which was propped between his front paws. Peter downloaded another Civil War book, this one on Gettysburg, and Kipp was, as usual, focused in his odd, symbiont way–which meant he was reading and concentrating on the text before him while simultaneously communicating with me.
May had arrived; our timing for the trip home was impeccable, and we only lost a couple of days in our natural timeline. Kipp had to assist Elani a little on the return so that she would hit the mark. It quickly became evident that her skills at such were superior to Peter's, much as Kipp's were better than mine. Partners usually balance one another out, and Peter was learning that Elani's talents were an asset and didn't imply he was without skills of his own. I assured him that Kipp was stronger in all things than I, and that it was wise to simply appreciate and enjoy a powerful partner. Envy and feelings of inadequacy had no place in our traveling teams. A lovely spring storm was just passing through our area, and the early morning sun began to radiate a pretty glow from behind a blue-gray cloudbank. Outside, the water was dripping from the leaves, making a soothing pattering noise on the roof that echoed softly in the kitchen. My thoughts drifted back to the night spent in the barn with the metal roof when I lay in the straw listening to the storm rage outside.
Fitzhugh entered the kitchen wearing his old, tattered robe cinched around his waist. Despite the fact we'd lived together for a while, he still maintained his proper reserve. I figured I'd never see his bare chest at this rate, but that was definitely okay with me. His gray hair was uncombed and a long strand fell forward over his forehead. I resisted leaning forward and brushing it back for him.
"I mean, really, Petra. Is it that difficult to remember one little thing?" He obviously was not ready to let the issue go.
Kipp, always ready for subtle humor, began to sing in his brain the Carpenter's song "Close To You", getting louder as he got to the part when moon dust was liberally sprinkled in someone's hair. Narrowing my eyes, I darted a savage look his way, not wanting to burst out in laughter since Fitzhugh would undoubtedly misunderstand my humor.
Sighing, I set my coffee aside. "I'm sorry, Fitzhugh. There's been a lot going on since we returned and I forgot." He sat across from me; I reached out to gently touch his forearm. "I'll get it today."
Occasionally, I am granted the rare epiphany of valuable insight, and I was struck with the notion that his irritability had to do with the fact he'd missed me and the disruption my absence caused to our new, bizarre, nuclear family. Trying not to smile, I ducked my head to sip my coffee.
"Do we have any Pop Tarts left?" he asked.
I hopped up and retrieved the box from the counter–fortunately it was strawberry, his favorite–and put the pastries in the toaster. He preferred his warm; I was more of a heathen and ate mine straight out of the box. While the toaster hummed and clicked, I poured him some coffee, adding just the amount of cream I knew he liked. Once the feast was before him, his mood began to lighten.
"I've still been considering how to document what occurred during your time shift," he said, his brows drawing together. "Or if I should say anything at all," he added. Crumbling a corner off the tart, he put it in his mouth and chewed as he considered. The whole idea of team travel was still a little novel. "I think what you managed to accomplish with such a young pair as Peter and Elani is pretty amazing." His dark eyes met mine and he frowned. "But I suspect it had more to do with Kipp's skills than yours."
I knew I'd never get much credit thrown like discarded food from his table. But there was no arguing that Kipp had subtly managed the trip in ways I probably would never know. Looking across the kitchen, I stared at Kipp, who paused in his reading to gaze back at me.
"What?" he asked, acting innocent, which he never was.
"I realize," Fitzhugh continued, "Peter is worried if the Twelve learn of his impulsivity, it might cause them to rethink his request to be a traveler. But the other side of that coin is to prove that despite adversity, he managed to survive, and he and Elani returned home safely."
"Yes, but that wouldn't have happened if Kipp and I had not been there. Peter would have been taken to jail and who knows where that would have led? Elani would never have been able to find him or, if she had, get to him for a bond. They both would have lived out their lives in another time, stranded, and unable to return home." Oddly, I found myself on the opposing side of the argument.
Fitzhugh pursed his lips and stared across the small room to the window which offered a view of the backyard. "Margaret Shelton is leaving us," Fitzhugh announced, his change of subject abrupt and startling.
"Really?" I asked. Standing, I walked to the coffee maker and brought the carafe to the table. This might be a two cup discussion.
"Apparently, she reestablished a romantic connection and is wishing to relocate near her, uh, paramour." Only Fitzhugh would use such antiquated words. "So, it will be just you and me again," he added, not looking at me.
"Okay," I replied cautiously, not certain where this discussion would lead.
"Which is exactly why I was so disturbed over your oversight regarding the Earl Grey. The workplace just won't seem the same without the fragrance of the tea." He raised his eyebrows and broke off another piece of Pop Tart. "Next time, I wish you'd buy blueberry, just for a change."
"Okay," I said, again, trying not to smile.
"I'm glad to see your pearls came through the trip intact." Fitzhugh nodded at me. "The stick pin you lost was one of Suzanne's favorites from the vault, and I'm led to believe she is pretty agitated over its loss." He ran a hand up through his hair, in irritation, to subdue the long strand that stubbornly refused to be displaced. "I heard she wants your pay docked for the item."
Lily chose that moment to saunter in and crouch at the base of the table before gracefully making the leap to land on top without disturbing any object, which was pretty amazing considered the cluttered condition of the surface. Fitzhugh did
n't look at me as he neatly scooped the willful feline off into his lap. I narrowed my eyes at him since it was clear that Lily was accustomed to taking gross liberties in my absence. Sighing deeply, the old symbiont began to gently stroke the cat, who purred with sufficient volume to crack the sheetrock walls.
* * *
A week later, I found myself stopping to tie my shoelace, which had come undone as Philo, Kipp and I walked along one of the lesser trod paths in Duke Forest. Philo paused, in no hurry on that lovely day. A busy little Carolina wren scolded us from his perch above; it was clear he and his lady were busy building a nest, and he didn't care for our proximity to his home site. Underneath our feet, the forest floor was quiet, unlike the noisy swooshing sound our feet made dragging through the fallen leaves during autumn. Small pockets of wildflowers were clustered around bright green ferns; some moss grew, indeed, on the north facing side of an ancient oak.
"Silas called the other day and asked me to say hello to you from him. Vashti's doing well, too. I think I mentioned they are no longer travelling but are working in their collective as teachers." Philo looked at me, his face carefully neutral, waiting for a response.
I'd never told him my true feelings about his son, who lacked his father's ethics and warmth. And I would never divulge all that occurred during my time shift to Victorian London where I found Silas and his lupine in a terrible predicament due to Silas's poor judgment, which led to necessary involvement by Kipp and me.
"Oh," I finally responded, trying to be diplomatic and noncommittal. "Well, experienced travelers can make excellent instructors, so I hope Silas has found a happy niche."
Philo stopped walking and took a deep breath, obviously enjoying the elemental feel of the air moving in and out of his body. After a moment, he sat, choosing a large boulder that rested next to a stream that ran through the forest. He patted the rock with his hand, indicating I should join him. Kipp, who'd been quiet, found a bunch of ferns near the water and circled before plopping down on them, letting the vegetation serve as a pleasant bed.
The Great Locomotive Chase, 1862 Page 28