Glassford Girl: Part 3 (The Emily Heart Time Jumper)

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Glassford Girl: Part 3 (The Emily Heart Time Jumper) Page 6

by Jay J. Falconer


  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Late that same day, Emily was sitting on a bench by the entrance to Burton Barr Public Library with a bag of Twinkies in her hand when Derek strolled up carrying a book bag over his shoulder. The abundant moonlight gave her a clear view of his face—he looked tired, or maybe he was a little depressed.

  “Heya,” he said, looking at her with those hypnotic blue eyes.

  “Heya right back,” she answered, sending him a warm smile. She wanted to jump all over him right then and there, but didn’t. “Is something wrong?”

  “Long day. I’m not so sure about this school thing.”

  “Why?”

  “AP classes require tons of homework. Doesn’t leave much time for anything else, like a social life,” he said with a stale tone to his voice. He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You look amazing.”

  She blushed. “All I needed was a good night’s sleep. I clean up good, huh?”

  “Yep. How’s Junie?”

  “Cute as a bug, like always. I just love that girl. But her mom—she’s another story. I’m worried that Junie’s on her own way too much. That’s a recipe for trouble.”

  “For Junie or her mom?”

  “Both. I wish there was more I could do for her.”

  “I know you feel connected and want to protect her, but she’s not your responsibility. She has a mom for that.”

  “You’re right, but she really needs a better role model in her life.”

  “Who? You?”

  “No, I’m the last person she needs to be hanging around, except for maybe her deadbeat mom. I’ve got way too many issues of my own to deal with.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Hey, dude. Nobody’s holding a gun to your head. You know the deal. It’s not like I can control any of this.”

  “Technically, I know some of the deal, but that’s not what I meant. I was agreeing with you that you aren’t the best role model for Junie. Neither am I, or anyone we know, except maybe that Jim guy. At least he has a job and a house; what’s left of it, anyway.”

  “Sorry, I thought you meant something else.”

  “No worries. It’s all good. I’m just completely spent and a little edgy.”

  “Edgy?”

  “Okay, I’m a cranky bastard when I get tired. There, I said it. I know I can be an asshole at times. Sorry. It’s not your fault. I got myself into this mess. Nobody to blame but me.”

  She played with the strap hanging around his broad shoulder. “I really like your book bag. It makes you look mighty studious. Kinda sexy, too.”

  “If you say so. Looks like I’m gonna be lugging it around everywhere I go. It’s my new ball and chain.”

  “I’m sure you won’t be the only one in the library who has one. You’ll fit right in.”

  “Great. They’re turning me into another nerd in the herd.”

  She laughed.

  He gestured to the Twinkies. “Those for me?”

  “Nope. They’re for my computer friend, which you’ll be thankful I have. My buddy Sheldon will totally hook us up and let us use a station without a card. Usually longer than the one-hour limit, too, as long as I bring him Twinkies. Sort of a bribe, I guess. Plus, I can sneak us past the front desk easy-peasy, too.”

  “Buddy? Should I be jealous?”

  “Of Sheldon? God, no. It’s not like that at all. He barely even knows anything about me. We’re just friends. I’m just thankful he’s always willing to help me.”

  Derek hesitated, then spoke. “I have to ask, Em. How did you pay for ‘em? Let’s be honest, they’re not exactly giving Twinkies away at the shelter. And I know you don’t have any money.”

  “It’s classified,” she said, letting a full smile erupt on her lips. “If I told you, then I’d have to shoot you. Let’s just say that this girl’s got skills.”

  “So, that’s what we’re calling it now?”

  “Sure, why not? A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” She grabbed his hand and yanked him toward the library. “C’mon. I’ll show you how a teenage ninja-girl sneaks into Burton Barr.”

  He stopped her and held up his student ID card. “Actually, I’m supposed to sign up for a free access card. They just gave me one of these. Might as well use it. I’ll be here a lot, I’m afraid.”

  She looked at the photo. “What? No smile?”

  “By then, I wasn’t in the mood. The lady working the camera was older than dirt and smelled like BO. It was all I could do to just sit there and not say something. I’m trying, Em, I really am, but this isn’t gonna be easy for me. Schedules and people telling me what to do all the time isn’t something I’m used to. I just got my freedom and already I feel like I’m back in jail.”

  “It’s only the first day, sweetie. Give it some time. You need to do this. You can’t live on the streets forever. It’s the first step toward a brand-new future. A future I can’t have. So, if nothing else, do it for me. Okay?”

  He paused. “You’re right,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her across the street and through the front entrance to the main desk. Emily waited as Derek used his new school ID to sign up for a library card and be issued a temporary Internet access pass.

  When Derek finished, she latched onto his arm and pulled him away.

  “It’s this way, babe. I think you’re really going to like Sheldon. He’s one of the smartest people you’re ever going to meet. He’s taught me everything I know about computers and stuff.”

  She gave Derek the pack of yellow sponge cake. “I think you should give him these. Break the ice. It never hurts to have a friend like him, especially since there’s no guarantee I’ll be with you every time.”

  Derek shook his head and gave the Twinkies back to her. “Oh, so you want me to meet my competition?”

  She punched him in the arm. “Shut up. I told you, it’s not like that. And he’d be mad if I came in without at least saying hi.”

  She walked Derek to the desk where Sheldon worked. Her computer friend was sitting on a stool behind the counter, focused on what he was reading. Emily waved the Twinkies under his nose, then dropped them on the desk. He looked up and smiled.

  “Emily! Awesome. You need a comp—” he said, stopping in mid-sentence when he saw Derek. A confused look took control of his face. “Uh,” he stammered, looking down at his books, then over her shoulder, then at Derek, then back at her. She’d never seen him so flustered.

  “Sheldon, this is my friend, Derek,” she said, wondering if she should’ve used the term boyfriend. She glanced at Derek and his pinched eyes told her the answer. “My boyfriend, Derek. The one I’ve been telling you about.”

  “Uh, I don’t re—”

  “Sure you do, sweetie. I talk about him all the time,” she said, looking at Derek, then back at Sheldon, whose face seemed unusually stiff, even for him.

  Derek held his hand out. “Nice to meet you,” he said, using a lower voice than usual.

  Sheldon looked at Derek, but didn’t say anything.

  “Sheldon!” Emily snapped like a disappointed mother.

  “Huh?” Sheldon replied, blinking rapidly.

  “Say hello to Derek.”

  “Ummm, oh, okay. Ri–right. Hi, nice to meet you,” he said with a stutter, but never put his hand out for a shake. His eyes dropped to the clutter on the desk in front of him.

  Derek dropped his arm. “So, you and Emily are friends?”

  Sheldon looked up. “Yes, yes, we are . . . friends. That’s right. I . . . uh . . . I let her use the computers here. When she needs them. Friends. Yep. That’s what we are. Friends.”

  Sheldon stared at Emily and cleared his throat. His voice was still breaking. “The–the usual?”

  “That’s cool, dude, but we have a card,” Derek said to him before Emily could answer. “The front desk lady told us we could use the lab on the second floor. You know, for a little privacy.”

  “Okay, yeah, that’s right, if y
ou have a card. Second floor. Right. Don’t have to stay down here. It’s not like I’ve been saving it for you or anything.”

  “See ya,” Emily said to her friend. “Enjoy your snack.”

  “Yeah, Em, I will, ah, thanks.” He opened the package and crammed an entire Twinkie in his mouth. “You’re the best,” he said with his mouth full.

  Emily blew him a kiss. “Nope, Sheldie. You are. Thank you!”

  Sheldon grinned and kept chewing, with yellow cake and cream frosting spilling out of the sides of his mouth.

  Emily and Derek left Sheldon and his stuffed chipmunk cheeks behind and traveled up the wide central staircase of the library to the second floor—just like any normal pair of library users might. Emily was not used to being an ordinary person, usually having to sneak around everywhere she went. It was definitely a new experience for her, something that she was starting to enjoy. It took a lot of the inherent pressure off her, always having to live her life a certain way, trying to stay off the radar and not be noticed.

  Enjoy the simple things, she reminded herself.

  Halfway up the stairs, Derek stopped on one of the steps, turned, and gave her a serious look.

  “Are you ever going to tell me?” he snapped.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Where you were? What you were going to tell Duane that day before the movie? What happens to you when you disappear? How the Orange Man fits into all of this? What happened to your mom? Everything. Every last detail.”

  “Really? Now? Here?”

  “I know. But Jesus, Em.”

  “Listen, babe. I really want to. But I also don’t want to. It’s tough for me because as much as I want to share everything with you, it’s all just a little too horrible to talk about. You don’t need to be burdened with it. You’ve got your own stuff to deal with. Besides, you’ll probably think I’m crazy. Because I guarantee you, I will sound crazy, and I don’t want us to stop doing—whatever it is we’re doing. This—what we have—right here, right now, is too important to me. It’s the only good thing in my life.”

  “What about Junie?”

  He was right. “Yes, her, too. Oh, and a cat.”

  “That’s three things.”

  “Yeah, but you’re missing my point. I just need to keep everything simple.”

  Derek paused, obviously thinking it over. He nodded. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry. Been a long day and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  “It happens.”

  “I’ll tell you what. How about we do this; I won’t ask you about it anymore—but to be fair, you can’t ask me about my past—the Locos, my parents, my problems, anything. How about we agree to just live in the moment and forget everything that happened before we met. Like you said, keep it simple.”

  “Deal. I knew you’d understand. Thank you.”

  He gave her a warm, charming smile. “Just trying to keep it real, babe.”

  She hugged him, squeezing his cheek against hers.

  Emily whispered into his ear, “This is where I want to be. Right now. With you. Nothing else matters. You’re my everything. I hope you know that.”

  She let go and looked at him, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her on the mouth for a full second, then they walked up the stairs.

  Deep inside, she felt a tingle begin to tickle her spine like a feather. It was a feeling she liked, and it had nothing to do with a time jump. It had everything to do with being kissed by a hot boy, who, despite everything else that was going on, seemed to accept her for her. Problems and all. She didn’t have a clue why, but she was happy that he did.

  After countless late-night, tear-filled conversations with her mother back before the night of The Taking, Emily knew that a loving, trusting relationship between two people was exceptionally rare and deeply important. She knew she couldn’t make it without Derek at her side, not with what she had to face going forward, with the eyes watching her from the shadows with ravenous breath. Granted, he wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. Neither of them were normal or complete, but as a couple, they balanced each other out and made a whole person.

  She now understood what her mother was trying to explain to her oh so long ago. Emily was thankful for what she had. It wasn’t much compared to a lot of other people on the planet, but it was all she needed.

  * * *

  Two hours later they sat side-by-side at a computer in the second-floor lab, looking at the web page for Derek’s Lit/Comp class. Emily was reading the section about Derek’s writing assignments, trying to help him decide whether to write an essay or take a shot at the Beat Writing choice.

  She was beaming inside, thinking about how he was trying to better himself, even though the path ahead of him went against everything he was. Her arms seemed to move on their own, wrapping around his neck to pull him in close. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Me, too. Though, I feel kind of like a fish out of water. But I’m gonna give it a shot. Not like I have a choice—it’s in the terms of my early release. And I kind of like not being, you know, not being a criminal. It’s weird sitting in class with all those kids who don’t know what’s really going on around them. They seem so . . . sheltered.”

  “I can relate. Not to being sheltered, but sometimes I see other teenage girls out in public—with their moms or whatever—and I think, well, like you’re saying. They seem so sheltered. But right now I’m thinking sheltered might not be such a bad thing.”

  “Hmm. As long as you’re thinking, what do you think I should do for my assignment?”

  “I think you should do the interview. That sounds more like you. I know you prefer to get out there and mingle and stir some shit up.”

  He shot a quick smile at her. “Maybe I should write something about sports. I do like sports. Especially hockey.”

  She laughed. “If that’s what you’re interested in, then I bet you can. You don’t strike me as a jock, though.”

  “I used to play Peewee hockey before my family situation got jacked. I was really into it. I’m kind of a closet hockey junkie, to be honest.”

  “Is that a confession?”

  “It is.” He put his right hand over his heart, raised his left hand and took a mock-serious tone.

  “Hello. My name is Derek, and I’m a hockey-a-holic.”

  “Shut UP!” she said with attitude, shoving him hard and making his chair rock sideways for a moment. Then it righted itself. They both laughed.

  He turned his eyes back to the computer. A second later, a look of panic came over his face. He stood up and shoved all his stuff in his backpack. “I have to be back in eighteen minutes or I go back to Durango. Damn it!”

  He kissed her on the cheek and just like that, he was gone.

  Her heart ran empty as the reality of her life settled in, quickly reminding her just how fragile and alone she really was.

  She buried the pity party and focused on the computer. The library was open for a bit longer, and she wanted to do some research while she had the chance. One day into the new Derek—Derek 2.0, as Sheldon the computer whiz would probably call him—and she was more than inspired. She was invigorated.

  She tapped the keys on the computer, bringing up three different search windows. In the first one she typed “Alien Abduction.” In the second, she typed “Neurobiology.” In the third, she typed “Time Travel Theories.”

  She was focused more than ever, and determined to figure out what they’d done to her and why. Then find a way to make everything right.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  10:59 p.m.

  Miller and Alison sat across from each other at a booth in the seating area of The Fourth Street Café and Eatery. Miller was majority owner of the place. The staff was about finished for the night and would soon head home. Miller poured a fill of premium whisky into a pair of shot glasses, then pushed one across the table to Alison.

  “Need ice?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”
Alison said, wrapping his fingers around the glass.

  “Water?”

  “You forget who you’re drinking with, Millsy? You might as well hook up a Johnnie Walker drip line to my arm and save the middle man.”

  “Just checking to see if you were back to your old self.”

  “I am.”

  “Good. I like you a whole lot better when you drink.”

  “Me, too,” Alison said, downing the glass of booze. He tapped the glass on the table and Jim filled it up.

  “We’ve got way too many years between us for one of us to try changing now. Things just wouldn’t be the same. You know, old dogs and new tricks.”

  “Yeah, I had to make it appear I was onboard. It was all part of the department’s Improve From Within program they were selling over the holidays. You know, the company line about exercise, eat right, and eliminate the sauce. But it wasn’t for me.”

  “It’s not like you had a drinking problem. So what was the point?”

  “Idiots, I tell ya. Always getting in our shit. Blame the bleeding heart liberals in the media, making the talking heads upstairs react to whichever way the wind is blowing. Don’t they get it? Jarheads like us only drink with friends. Or when we’re alone. Or when we’re stressed. It’s not like we have to drink. But after a long day dealing with the underbelly of society, a man can only take so much. I think it might be time for me to think about retiring from this gig and trying something new. There’s something to be said about picking up leaves in the park. A mindless job sounds damn good right about now.”

  “I hear ya, brother.”

  The surface between them was empty except for a manila folder containing selective info that Miller had decided to share with Alison about Emily Heart—which wasn’t much. Caution was his main focus until he knew more about Alison’s agenda. Then he might share more.

  The new restaurant manager, whom he’d hired to take over for Rob the Rapist, was named Abby Rose. She was a punctual, supremely conscientious, middle-aged woman who was only a millimeter over five feet tall. Even with her small stature, she carried a management footprint that reminded Jim of a veteran linebacker, chasing down the ball with fearless abandon, not letting anyone get in her way.

 

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