Everyone else began to finally take in the changes in Bat’s hair and garb by this time and starting to ask questions, or wanting to. Bat, looking away from Jody reluctantly, told them quite frankly, “I can’t talk about it. Not to everyone. I—I can’t.”
It was Bronwyn who said what everyone was starting to think, “You need to sit down, Bat.”
He nodded, but said, “Point Jody and I to a room. I, I do need to sit. But I can’t be away from Jody. I’ve been away too—I’ve lost her too many times.”
It was the Kerrigans’ daughter-in-law, Shannon, who said, “Certainly. You can have the old garage room. It’s the closest—and the most private.”
Jody was frightened on more levels than she knew she had as they started to follow Shannon but Bat’s knees began to buckle. “Garison,” she quickly called out, “Help me get him to bed.” Garison was just quick enough to catch Bat before he could collapse to the floor.
Jody was trying to arrange his shirt more comfortably—for it looked all bunched—when she gasped at the sight of an ugly wound in his shoulder. A scar was forming, but it still had a pink tint—like it wasn’t very old. She reached out and touched it gently, wondering where it came from for it hadn’t been there that morning. She asked softly, “Oh Bat, what happened to you?”
She sat down on the bed and held his hand in hers. His hair was longer than it had been that morning, and he had that scar. He was sleeping, and he looked comfortable, but also looked . . . older? He looked, she thought suddenly, like someone who had been through a lot.
For her, the journey had been instantaneous. Not even long enough to realize it had started. The same seemed to be true for Garison and Heather. What had been different for Bat? If what they had guessed the previous day were true, he seemed to have the ability to remember changes in time that no one else could. They had spoken of the trip in the other dimension being inconceivable to the human mind. Had Bat been able to perceive what they couldn’t? While that might explain his agitated state, how could it explain the scar? Whatever had caused that wound, it hadn’t done it in the last few minutes. That was an old wound. She absently touched the bullet scar on her abdomen, for she knew how long wounds took to heal.
“The ambulance is on it’s way,” Heather said, poking her head into the room. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah,” Jody nodded. Holding her hand out to her friend, she requested, “Please come pray with me.”
As the doctor came into the waiting room, Jody jumped nervously to her feet and asked, “How is he?”
“How are you, Mrs. Garrett?” he asked, motioning for her to sit down. “You don’t need to be getting worked up in your condition. Fear is not good for little ones.”
“I’ll be fine as soon as I know how my husband is.”
“He’s very dehydrated,” the doctor told them. “Other than that I can find nothing wrong with him and I don’t think there will be any permanent problems.” As Jody whispered a prayer of thanks, the doctor continued, “You did the right thing bringing him as soon as you did. With an IV we are getting him back up to the correct levels much quicker than you could have done at home. When he wakes up, his mouth is probably going to be pretty dry. Get him to drink some water, but not fast. The temptation may be to chug-a-lug it, but it will be better if he just sips. Just keep him sipping. As long as he takes in in slowly, he can have all he wants.”
“Can I see him?”
“Certainly. Come with me.” He looked at Heather and Garison and said, “You can come as well. Just keep it down.”
With Jody holding tightly to Heather’s hand, Garison followed along behind as the doctor led them into to the room Bat had been moved to. They found him there, laying on the bed, apparently asleep. He had an IV in his arm and he was no longer dressed strangely but was in a hospital gown.
The doctor was dying to ask about Bat’s appearance but could think of no legitimate reason to do so. If Bat had just wandered in of his own accord, dressed as he had been and smelling as he had, the doctor would have guessed him to be some sort vagrant. Or maybe one of the Indian wannabe’s who dressed like hippies and tried to pretend they were one of the local Apaches but came off just looking like fools. But this man had arrived in the company of three well-groomed, attractive people. The man’s wife was quite good looking, and the dark-haired woman was as striking as anyone the doctor had ever seen. The doctor had barely noticed Garison, except to remark mentally that he fit with the women. The patient certainly didn’t, though.
As the doctor excused himself, Heather walked Jody over to a chair and made her sit down. “Relax, Jody. He’s going to be all right. You heard the doctor.”
Jody nodded but continued to hold tightly to Heather’s hand. After a moment of trying to fight it, she began to cry. Heather knelt before her friend and held her tightly, telling her words of assurance and wondering if she should just shut up. After a bit, Jody began to slow down. She let go of Heather and, wiping her face, said, “Thank you. Thank you both for being here.”
“I’m glad we were,” Heather told her. “I mean, I’m not glad this happened. Whatever happened. I’m not glad about that, but I’m glad I could be here for you—oh, you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Jody nodded, smiling at her friend’s words. Looking up at Garison, Jody said, “I want that machine destroyed.”
As Garison was nodding in understanding, they were surprised by Bat’s scratchy voice saying from the bed, “No.”
Jody stood up rapidly, almost knocking Heather over in the process, and went to Bat’s side. Taking his hand in her own, and tears in her voice, she said, “Bat—“
“Don’t destroy it,” he whispered. Motioning for water, he took a long sip, then said, his voice almost back to normal, “Don’t destroy the machine. If you destroy it, I can’t come back.”
The same question was on everyone’s mind as Jody asked, “Come back? Come back from where? Where have you been, Bat?”
He took another sip of the water, then another. Finally, he rasped, “I . . . I can’t tell you. I can’t talk about it.” He took a desperate sip of the water, then added, “Don’t destroy the machine. Trust me: don’t destroy it.” He set down the water with fumbling fingers, then grabbed Jody’s other hand in his free one and pleaded, looking her in the eye with just a hint of that terror she had seen before, “Don’t let anyone destroy it.”
“How is he?” Bronwyn asked as soon as Garison and Heather came through the door.
“Fine, just dehydrated,” Heather replied. “Doctor seemed curious as to why he was so dehydrated, but couldn’t offer any theories. We sure weren’t going to tell him what little we know.”
“Which is nothing,” Garison pointed out.
“We’ve been using Eddie for more than fifty years now and, other than that one time, have never had the least bit of trouble,” Bronwyn said, as if apologizing.
“I’m never using it again, that’s for sure,” Jason remarked. As Bronwyn nodded, he added, “I’ve got half a mind to take a wrench to it and—“
“Don’t take it apart,” Heather quickly objected. “I don’t know why, but Bat was very emphatic about that. He wouldn’t tell us what happened, he just kept saying to make sure no one destroyed Eddie.”
“Do we need to go back over later and pick up Jody?” Bronwyn queried.
“I don’t think so,” Heather told her. “She was determined to stay by his side until they let him out tomorrow. I may call over there later and see if she still feels the same way, but if I know Jody, she’s not going to leave Bat.”
“I wouldn’t, either,” Bronwyn nodded. “When I was pregnant, especially, I couldn’t stand to be away from Jason. Used to call him at work several times a day and practically drive him crazy.”
“It did drive me crazy,” Jason retorted. Then, smiling at Bronwyn, he added, “But then I realized why, and I sure couldn’t hold it against her. She wasn’t doing it to pester or annoy me, but because she loved me
. What kind of fool would resent that?”
“See?” Heather said to Garison, nudging him in the ribs. Only three months along herself, she had already found herself facing moments of anxiety because Garison had stayed in his shop longer than she expected. She didn’t want to pester, either, but she had found herself calling him on the intercom more than once even though she knew everything was all right.
“Wonder if we ought to take a pillow or something over there?” Bronwyn mused, out loud but mostly to herself. “Those roll-away hospital beds are even worse than the regular hospital beds.”
“Jody said it was a relief to be the one in the roll-away for a change,” Heather quipped with a laugh.
“Has she been sickly?” Jason asked, surprised, for Jody looked like such a healthy young woman.
“Not exactly,” Heather and Garison said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed. Heather smiled and said, “While we get something to eat, why don’t I tell you a really interesting story? I don’t think Jody’d mind—and since it is about how I met Garison, I have a right to tell it.” At Garison’s playful scowl, she amended, “Well, I’m in about the last quarter of the story.”
It was hours later that Jody was awakened by Bat calling her name. Coming quickly to his bedside, she whispered, “I’m here, Bat. How do you feel?”
“Fine. Thirsty.” He took the glass she put in his hand and took a sip. After a few more swallows, he asked, “Why is it so dark?”
“It’s nighttime.”
He felt of his arm and asked, “An IV? Where am I?”
“The hospital. You passed out after the trip with Eddie. Doctor said you were just dehydrated but I was—I was so scared. Then I saw that scar on your shoulder—“
He reached up and touched it, saying, as if surprised, “I had almost forgotten about that. Seems so long ago. And I was kind of hoping it was all just a very long, bad dream.”
She asked, rather timidly, “How long ago did you get the scar, Bat?” She quickly added, “I know you didn’t have it this morning.”
Bat looked at Jody in the dim light creeping under the door from the hallway. He saw her face in the soft light as if for the first time and asked, “You’re still pregnant, aren’t you?”
Holding his hand to her belly, aware he was trying to avoid her question but also aware the idea seemed to scare him, she replied, “Yeah.”
With a genuine smile, though it was tinged with some sort of lingering pain, he asked, “Want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“The ultrasound was inconclusive, Bat.”
“Who needs ultrasounds?” He reached up and stroked her face lightly, with surprisingly rough and callused hands. “You are so beautiful, Jody. I have never in my life been so happy as when I saw you today.”
She had so much she wanted to say in reply, but felt like she should keep it light and commented, “So I noticed.”
“You really don’t have to stay here, you know.”
“Yes I do,” she replied, leaving no room for argument. Chuckling lightly, she added, “And even if I didn’t love you so much, I think I owe you.” Patting his hand, which was still on her abdomen, she said, “Plus, in about three months, you’re going to be spending some heavy duty time in the hospital with me.”
“How long do I have to be in here?” he asked in a raspy voice.
As she handed him his water, she answered, “Just overnight. The doc just wanted to make sure your fluid levels were all right. And that it wasn’t a virus, or anything.” As he began to pull her close, she objected, “Bat, we’re in a hospital!”
“I know this bed isn’t the easiest thing to share with a pregnant woman, but—“
“It’s not just that—“
“Jody, I have not seen you in almost a year. Not so long ago,” he shuddered, took another sip of water, then continued, “I didn’t think I would ever see you again. Please. Let me hold you close.”
She hesitated, but he shifted over and she got up on the bed with him and lay down. She had to admit it felt better than the roll-away bed. It also felt good to be in his arms. She lay her head down on his arm, making sure it wasn’t the one with the IV in it. She kissed him tenderly and found herself wishing they weren’t in a public hospital—and maybe that she didn’t have a basketball under her shirt.
She stroked his face gently, much as he had touched hers, asking in awe, “A year?” Before he even answered, she could see it in his face, and in his body. It wasn’t just his imagination. And it wasn’t just the hair or the scar. He was older, and tired. She had never seen him look so exhausted even though he had been asleep for the last six hours. He was exhausted like she remembered her father looking when she was a little girl and he would come home from a long stint in the Reserves. She saw in Bat a man who had gone days without good sleep, with hard work, and much care.
And as she stroked his arms she felt that they were more muscled than they had been since she had known him, but they were also thinner. All he had was muscle and bone. Suddenly, she scrunched up even closer to him and tried to keep from crying.
He didn’t want her to cry, but just to hold her close, to feel her let go and melt into his arms like that, it was the greatest thing he had ever known. Her tears weren’t the only ones on the pillow.
“Ya’ll could probably continue to use the machine for the rest of your lives and never have a problem,” Bat said to the group that was assembled in the workshop. “Even Jody could, for now.”
“For now? What do you mean?” Heather asked quickly.
“I mean—what happened to me seems to be genetic.”
“But the baby’s fine—isn’t it?”
Jody nodded and said, “Bat may not have passed whatever it is onto the baby. Or, it’s possible that it’s just because the baby is inside me. I’m the insulator. There’s a lot we don’t know.”
“But you know more than the rest of us,” Garison said to Bat, in a tone that wasn’t unfriendly, as one might have expected based on their past history.
Bat gave a motion that was somewhere between a nod and a shrug as he said, “Sort of. I don’t claim to know any of the ins and outs of the tech side. But, well, I know a little.”
“If it happened to us once,” Jason asked, motioning to Bronwyn, “How come never again? Aren’t we susceptible, too?”
“No, “ Bat told them. “See, what sent you to the future was the power overload. It would have sent anyone there. And it brought you back. But it wasn’t that the power overloaded the threshold of the machine. It was your threshold. Personally. Mine’s just a lot lower.”
Bronwyn asked fearfully, “So, is everyone different? Like there might be a point out there where I would go to the future and Jason wouldn’t?”
“Maybe. It may be that there are only two thresholds: mine and everyone else’s. Both seem to be genetic—“
“How do you know that?” Garison queried.
Bat shook his head, then said reluctantly, “Trust me.”
He was scrubbed and shaved and wearing new clothes purchased at the Wal-Mart and still not used to the new shoes. He liked his old shoes. He had to admit that he liked what he had on better than the moccasins, though. Bat touched Eddie and said, “Eddie works just fine for most people. And it worked for me when it had to. But, well . . . “ he let it trail off there and started to back away.
“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Garison demanded.
Bat took a deep breath, then shook his head. He turned to them all and said, “I’ve told Jody the basics. I have to tell you all some of it. But the rest—the rest I either can’t tell or won’t tell. I can’t even explain that. Someday, maybe, I’ll tell you the rest. It’s too fresh. But I—I can’t do more. And not now.” Taking another look at Eddie, he said, “Let’s go inside. I ought to just get the basics out of the way.”
When they were all seated in the living room of the log home near the river, Bat took a sip of the soft drink he had been given—he was stil
l so thirsty, and while soda wasn’t the best thing for thirst, it just tasted so good. After a moment of looking at the floor, then to Jody for an encouraging look, he looked up. Seeing Jody, he was remembering their first adventure together. He was remembering sitting out on the front porch of the store at Castillon, sipping a drink and trying to cool down after a very hot and harried outing. In his memory, he remembered looking over at Jody and being in love with her even then. Had he been? It was hard to tell, now.
This day was so different from that one. Just sitting in the home of friends, sipping drinks, and it wouldn’t even be that hot outside. Sure he had awakened in the hospital, but that was nothing compared to the morning before, when he had . . .
He took a deep breath and launched into his tale, “I’ve been to the future. While the rest of you were making an instantaneous jump from Florence to here, I was catapulted . . . way into the future. It was—it was,” he began to shudder and Jody reached out to take is hand. He squeezed it gratefully, almost too hard, then said, “I was there for almost a year. It was . . . not a pleasant year. And it’s more than just thinking I wouldn’t see my wife and child again.”
He paused and wiped his eyes. Looking at Bronwyn and Jason, he said, “I saw the castle—the one made of pink granite. It’s, um, quite a sight. But that’s neither here nor there.” He took another long sip, then a deep breath, then said, “For the first long while, I was too busy running for my life to plan anything, or to think. But, eventually, I did formulate a plan. A plan to get back home. Back here.”
Staring intently at Jason, he said, “Someday, when you are through using it or whatever, we have to bury Eddie. And we have to bury him well, and in an exact spot. Because one day in the future—though it’s now my past,” he shook his head and actually smiled, “Two days ago, actually, I dug up Eddie and used it to get back here. If you destroy Eddie, or don’t bury him, I cannot come back. Now, the fact that I sit here means that the plan is going forward, but, for my own peace of mind, I have to be assured that you will do that. Will you bury it?”
The Legend of Garison Fitch (Book 3): Lost Time Page 32