Jolt

by Jodi Bowersox

  Augusta pulled Nellie up onto her lap as Tate jogged around to the other side. No one said a word for a few blocks, and Lalita could see the stubborn set of Tate's jaw out of the corner of her eye. It was Nellie who broke the silence. "It's a good thing we went to check on her, isn't it, Papa?"

  Tate shifted his fingers on the reins and flashed a tiny smile her way. "Yes, sweetheart, it was a good thing." Some of the tension seemed to leak out of him. "I don't know how you knew, Miss Torres, but another day, and it might have been too late."

  Lalita didn't know what to say, and thankfully Augusta jumped in. "Lalita is a sensitive soul. She feels things more deeply than most." She laid her hand over Tate's on the reins, and Lalita could see the surprise that move brought to Tate's eyes. "You should listen to her next time."

  "I.." Tate fumbled for words as he tentatively took her hand in his. "I suppose you're right."

  Lalita turned away before she was tempted to cry.

  ***

  "But I thought you didn't want to go to the Harrison's party." Lalita was confused by Augusta's announcement after lunch that they needed to go through her wardrobe and find something for Lalita to wear for the occasion.

  "Now that Tate will be busy this evening monitoring Mrs. Dickson, you and I can go, and it will be more fun."

  Lalita shook her head. "I still don't understand."

  Augusta pulled her up off Nellie's bedroom floor where they had been playing with paper dolls, and bid her follow. Lalita thought she had Augusta figured out, but this threw a wrench in her social phobia theory.

  Augusta led her through her bedroom and into the dressing room that was in between her room and Tate's. "I'm afraid all my dresses will be a bit short on you, but maybe we can find one that I can't fit into anymore, and you can add a border at the hem like the one you're wearing." She paused at the closet door. "Where did you get that dress, by the way? I have one that's nearly identical, and I thought it was being made exclusively for me."

  Lalita gave her a nervous smile before turning her attention to the dresses hanging in the closet. "Oh, you know how those tailors are. You just gave him a great idea, and he ran with it, selling it everywhere."

  Lalita knew all of Augusta's clothes like they were her own, and she also knew that very few would fit without alterations or her waist being cinched in to the point of asphyxiation.

  Augusta pulled out the familiar trunk, and she bit her tongue against declaring looking through it a waste of time. Augusta straightened and huffed out a breath before opening the lid. Right on top was the corset that had nearly suffocated her on her jaunt with Tate to see the marshal. She dreaded trying to wear it for a whole evening.

  Augusta, however, picked it up and threw it aside. "I was as slim as a stick when I wore that. I think there's a bit larger one at the bottom." She dug down until she pulled out an ivory corset with delicate lace trim. "We'll try this one." She moved to close the door then came back to Lalita and turned her around to start on her buttons.

  Lalita didn't know what Augusta would think of her pink bra and panties—not to mention her floral tattoo—but she had nowhere to escape to, and for once, she had no good lies coming to mind to get her out of it.

  Lalita sensed Augusta hesitate a moment as she reached her bra strap, but then she kept going. When she pushed the sleeves over her shoulders, Lalita assisted with pulling them off her arms, letting the dress slide down her body to the floor. Lalita slowly turned to see Augusta practically beaming. Lalita just stood there, confused by her reaction.

  Augusta clasped her hands at her chin. "Where is it?"

  Lalita folded her arms under her breasts, feeling a bit weirded out. "Where is what?"

  "The mark of the lightning," she said in a hushed voice; then she turned and pulled down her high collar to reveal what looked like a reddish birthmark in the shape of a lightning bolt on the back of her neck.

  Lalita swallowed and pointed to a red flower on her shoulder. "I had the tattoo artist work it into the design. If you look close, you can still see it, though." Her mind was abuzz with questions. "How do you have the same birthmark? What… what's going on?"

  Augusta gripped her shoulders. "I rode the lightning too. In my time, it was an experiment, and some even rode it back in time to experiment on others. Were you ever a ward of the state?"

  Lalita's jaw dropped. "For a bit, yes. How…"

  "It's an injection. They pass it off as immunizations."

  "Why?" Lalita was feeling dazed.

  "They looked at it as kind of a history randomizer. The courts began to use it for exile, sending those convicted of violent crimes into prehistoric times. And then there were those that used it for revenge or"—she hesitated just a moment as she released her hold on her shoulders—"to get rid of the ruling party."

  Lalita's eyes grew wide. "You weren't commenting on the weather yesterday. You said you would 'reign' if you went home. Were you a queen?"

  Augusta nodded. "Something similar." She went to her closet and pulled out a robe and handed it to Lalita. She slipped it on and sank to the edge of the bed. Augusta sat beside her. "The funding had been cut, and we were trying to round up the renegades, but one night they infiltrated the Ballustadia. I was captured and injected."

  Lalita's head was spinning, and she felt again like she had the moment she had realized the truth in front of the Antlers Hotel. "But wouldn't they have to wait for a storm?"

  Augusta shook her head. "They could recreate lightning in their dome. In fact, according to the history books, Nikola Tesla began the work that the riders would later build upon. We know now that Nikola Tesla was a rider himself. I was hoping that he could send me back, but I have to wait seven more years before he will even begin building his laboratory." She rose and walked across the room. "That's why I traveled to this area, but I don't know if I can wait that long." She paused and heaved a heavy sigh. "Sometimes… when my depression is very bad, I think about—"

  "Slitting your wrists?"

  Augusta spun back to face her. "How do you know that?"

  Lalita pushed up off the bed and crossed to where Augusta stood wide-eyed. "Because you did it, or I should say you will do it. And not too far in the future, either. When I was here in 1892—"

  "I knew it! You've been here before! That's how you knew about Mrs. Dickson!" Augusta's brow knitted with questions. "But there's no simulator here… You were struck by the real thing."

  Lalita put a hand to her temple. "Twice. So it's the… the…"—she moved her hand to her tattooed shoulder—"the lightning mark that keeps us from getting killed, along with sending us to another time?"

  "Yes, without it, you would have died."

  Something was on the edge of Lalita's brain, but she couldn't quite grab hold of it. She began to pace, chewing on a fingernail. "You said they could send people back to specific times, so it doesn't have to be random. How do they choose?"

  Augusta put her hands to her head. "They place a kind of helmet on you that points your mind to the time."

  Lalita stopped pacing. "But I didn't have a helmet. How did I end up in 1892, and even more curious, why did I only bounce back a year the second time?"

  "I don't know."

  Lalita remembered the Victorian house at Rock Ledge Ranch that she had seen just before the ride up Pikes Peak and took a step toward Augusta. "They only need the helmet if they want to make you go where you don't want to go. Otherwise, it's just a matter of thinking of the time. When I went back a year, I had just been told by Seth Dickson something that had happened a year earlier. I didn't know an exact date, so I just went to a time that was close."

  Augusta closed the gap between them. "So I could go back anytime? I was afraid to try. As much as I hate this oppressive Victorian era, I know it could be much worse." She half-smiled. "Tate thought my fear of lightning was just one of my 'irrational phobias.' "

  Lalita nodded understanding but then had a disquieting thought. "You could just do that? Just leave
Tate and Nellie?"

  Augusta took her hands. "You say that I do that anyway, at one of my low points. To just disappear would be better, wouldn't it?" She squeezed Lalita's hands as tears came to her eyes. "There's a man back in my time that I love. Tate has taken care of me, and I appreciate that, but my heart has always belonged to someone else. I'll never be able to give him that."

  Augusta released her hands and took a step back, a look of epiphany on her face. "Your dress is my dress. You've lived here. With Tate."

  Lalita sucked in a breath and let it out. "We were going to be married," she said in a rush." Her throat constricted, and her next words were high and tight. "Now he doesn't even know me, and he is so different, it's like I don't know him either."

  Augusta moved toward her, and the two women embraced. "My death changed him then."

  "Yes." Lalita clung tightly to the only woman to truly understand her since she "rode" the lightning on Pikes Peak. "He said he pushed you into being something you weren't. I think he blamed himself for your death."

  Augusta pulled back to look in her eyes. "Then it is good that I go."

  "But," Lalita sobbed, "how can you leave Nellie?"

  "There's help for depression in my time. Here, I will only hurt her." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I have hurt her. You love her, though, don't you? I will entrust her to you."

  Lalita nodded, unable to speak.

  The two pulled apart, and Augusta smiled. "Now we wait for the perfect storm."

  Chapter 36

  Despite the medication that Tate was giving Mrs. Dickson, she took a turn for the worse, and her fever spiked to 102 degrees the following afternoon. As he worked to bring it down with ice compresses, he considered Augusta's assessment of Miss Torres as "a sensitive soul."

  He'd asked Seth Dickson how he knew her, and he said he'd never laid eyes on her until she showed up caked with dried mud in front of his house. Tate frowned remembering his leering smile as he had commented, "That little squaw cleans up real nice."

  Mrs. Dickson, too, had expressed no knowledge of her before she had shown up with Augusta to check on her. So how did Miss Torres know how serious her condition was, and why was she so concerned?

  A spasm of coughing racked Mrs. Dickson's frame, and he clicked open his pocket watch to check if he could give her a draft to ease her cough. I should wait at least a half hour.

  Max poked his head in the door. "How's Ma? I heard her coughing again."

  Tate didn't have good news to share about her current condition, but he didn't want to worry the boy. "Sometimes things get worse before they get better. Right now, we're at worse." He forced a smile. "I'm expecting better to come along soon."

  Max nodded solemnly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to pray for her."

  "A grand plan, Max." Tate rose and waved toward his chair. "Have a seat while I get a bit of fresh air."

  As he walked out onto the front porch, he saw his girls approaching up the street. He walked to meet them contemplating the speed with which Miss Torres had become a part of their home. Indeed, she took over in the kitchen as if she was already well-acquainted with it, and he had even seen her using the sewing machine on one of his brief stops back at the house.

  When he drew near, Nellie ran to him, and he swept her up. "How's my angel this afternoon?"

  "Very well, thank you," she giggled as he tickled her ribs and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  He turned his attention to the two women. He could see that Lalita had acquired one of Augusta's brighter dresses. He glanced down to the slightly ruffled piece that had been added to the hem and noticed that the same color had been added to the sleeve edges and to her hat. Augusta, on the other hand wore a striped outfit in two shades of brown. He smiled as they reached Nellie and himself. "Well, you two look fashionable today." He glanced to the basket over Augusta's arm. "I don't suppose you've brought me a bite to eat?"

  "We have," Augusta confirmed. "Lalita is a much better cook than I am. She made fried chicken and biscuits that will melt in your mouth."

  Tate raised a brow and looked to the now blushing, dark-eyed woman at her side. "I can't wait to try them." He turned and led his crew to the Dickson's big front porch, where Augusta sat with him on the swing while Miss Torres held Nellie on a wicker chair opposite. He dove into the meal with gusto and had to agree with his wife's appraisal.

  After a few moments of eating the best biscuits he'd ever tasted, their baker spoke up. "How's Mrs. Dickson?"

  Tate swallowed a bite of chicken and chased it with a gulp or two of water. "She has a fever and the rattle in her chest hasn't cleared. I'm continuing to give her bacteriolysins… Time will tell."

  "Time will tell." Miss Torres sighed and looked to his wife. "Gosh, I'm tired of that phrase."

  Tate looked questioningly to Augusta, whose lips curled up in a slight smile. "I'm afraid our new friend is impatient."

  Tate swallowed another bite of chicken. "Oh? What are you impatient about, Miss Torres?"

  Before she could answer, Max appeared at the screen door. "Doc, Ma is mumbling stuff I can't understand. She isn't making any sense."

  Tate handed the basket back to Augusta and went in the house. After washing his hands at the kitchen sink, he went upstairs to check on his patient. A quick evaluation revealed that her fever had risen to a dangerous level. "Max, run a cool tub of water. We need to get her fever down."

  ***

  The two women sat on the porch waiting for news while Nellie drew pictures in the dusty yard with a stick. Augusta shaded her eyes from the sun as she looked at her daughter. "What's she like in a year?"

  "Beautiful, funny, full of laughter." Lalita smiled. "She's a sweet girl."

  Seth Dickson's voice erupted from the upstairs window. "Damn it, Doc, there's got to be more you can do."

  "I'm doing all I can, Seth. Perhaps if she hadn't waited—"

  "Does the medicine work or not?"

  "Sometimes even the best of treatments can't overcome the colony of bacteria that—"

  "I think I should call another doctor."

  "That is certainly your prerogative, although I don't think he will do anything differently than I'm doing. The best thing we can do right now is get her fever down. If you will assist me in getting her into the tub…"

  The argument stopped, and Lalita rose, intending to warn Augusta concerning Seth Dickson, when something Nellie was pulling out of the dirt caught her eye. A long thin black cord with a plug on the end. Lalita smiled. My charger.

  She started down the steps. "Leave the basket inside for Tate, Augusta. We need to go home; I have something I need to show you."

  ***

  Lalita felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder and blinked her eyes open. Augusta was looking down at her. She sat up. "What's wrong? Is Tate back yet?"

  "No. I called before I went to bed, and William told me that they had gotten her fever down a few degrees but it hasn't broken completely."

  A low rumble rolled outside, and Lalita's head snapped to look out the window. "Is it—"

  "Yes." She swept the sheet aside. "We must hurry."

  Lalita pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. "What about Nellie? I should probably stay here with her."

  "I've made arrangements." She put a hand impatiently on Lalita's arm.

  Lalita swung her legs over the edge of the bed but still didn't get up. "Don't you at least want to say good-bye to Tate?"

  "I've written him a letter explaining everything." She pulled Lalita to her feet and continued pulling her until she was across the hall and in the dressing room.

  "Should we leave him my phone and the charger, so he knows what you are avoiding by leaving?"

  Augusta stopped pulling and switched on the light. "No, that could just cause more trouble. Tate might attack Dickson, and he'd be the one in jail when you get back."

  "Augusta, isn't it dangerous for me to go? What if we also attract the lightning? I mean, I've been struck twice; what are the odds
of that?"

  "Of course we attract the lightning, but you can't stay in this time any more than I can."

  Lalita suddenly realized what Augusta meant by when she "got back." "But I want to stay with Tate and Nellie, right here, right now."

  Augusta grabbed the dress that Lalita had arrived in from the closet and held it out to her. "This is the wrong time for you and Tate. You said yourself that you can hardly recognize him, and he will not be ready for you either. He needs that year of pain to welcome you into his heart just the way you are. If you are pushed together now, when the time isn't right, it could ruin it for all time."

  Lalita felt panic crawling up her throat as she reached for the dress. "But what if I don't… What if I go too far and miss him altogether?"

  Augusta put her hands on her hips. "You were willing for me to try it. Did you really believe in what you said, or were you hoping to just get rid of me?"

  Lalita squared her jaw, tossed the dress to a chair and pulled her nightgown over her head. "If I had wanted to just get rid of you, all I had to do was sit back and watch."

  Augusta smiled as the first sounds of rain splattered on the roof.

  ***

  Tate was dozing in the rocking chair by Mrs. Dickson's bed when he heard the door creak open. Max and William tiptoed in. Tate leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. "Couldn't sleep?"

  Max shook his head, and even in the dim light, Tate could see he was fighting tears. William put a hand on Max's shoulder but looked to Tate. "Pa's still working. I know he's just trying not to think about Ma, but it isn't right him not being here."

  Tate pushed up out of the chair. "Everyone has their own way of dealing with these sorts of things."

  "Pa's way is blaming everybody else," Max blurted, pulling up a small chair on the other side of the bed. "He knew Ma was sick, but he just kept her working."

  William squatted down and took his mother's hand. "She still feels warm, but maybe not as hot as this afternoon."