The Body in the Boat

by Ami Diane

  As Ella turned onto Main Street, she broke the spell. “Wink? Who lives at 1843 on Centerwood?”

  “The professor, why?”

  Ella’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, and she kept her eyes glued to the road. “No reason, really. The address caught my eye on the clipboard is all. He uses a fair amount of electricity.” More like he consumed enough for an entire office building.

  “Hm, must be for his work.”

  “Yes, his work in theoretical physics. Isn’t that supposed to be, I don’t know, theoretical? Like lots of Good Will Hunting stuff and writing on chalkboards or whatever? It’s not like he’s got a supercomputer in his basement for crunching equations or anything. At least, I don’t think so…”

  “I’ll be honest, I don’t understand half of what you just said.”

  “What else is new,” Flo mumbled in the backseat. Both Ella and Wink had insisted she sit in the back on their return trip, both for their own reasons.

  Ella ignored the jab, lost in her own thoughts. Why would both Stan and the professor need so much electricity? If the professor was using almost 1,500 kWh a month, then why was he against the expansion project?

  Ella dropped Wink and Flo off at Stewart’s to pick up a few items for dinner before parking in front of the inn.

  She found Rose in the kitchen, bustling behind the stove. The succulent aroma of a honey-baked ham permeated the air, and an upbeat ragtime tune floated out from the bakelite tube radio on the counter.

  “Smells amazing. Can I help with anything?”

  “No.”

  “You can take a minute to think about it first.” Ella shot her a mock scowl.

  The door swung in, and Flo and Wink each carried a cloth grocery bag as they bickered about Stewart’s prices.

  “Wh—How did you do your shopping and get here so fast?” Ella sputtered.

  “Maybe you’re just a slow driver,” Flo said.

  Wink rolled her eyes. “Rose called in ahead, and he already had most of it waiting for us, the dry goods anyway.” She began depositing the items from the bag onto the counter.

  Flo swiped the jug of milk. “You got the wrong one, Wink. I told you, you need glasses.”

  “I didn’t get the wrong one.”

  “Did too. You were supposed to get buttermilk. Buttermilk. You see the word butter anywhere on this bottle?”

  “No. I was supposed to get heavy cream. Heavy cream.”

  “Run away while you can,” Rose whispered to Ella.

  She smiled gratefully and retreated out of the kitchen. Upstairs in her room, she changed into a dry sweatshirt and glanced at the clock. She had an hour to kill, and as much as she wanted to lend a hand downstairs, she felt it would be of more use fitting in her library trip now. Also, if she spent any more time around the Troublesome Twosome, she feared she’d end up testing Flo’s Ghost Blaster III.

  Ella stole down into the entrance hall as quietly as she could. Even several rooms and a hallway away, her friends’ bickering echoed into the great room.

  Outside, the snowflakes had doubled in size as if trying to coat the town in a blanket. The precipitation capped the quaint buildings, making it look very much like the town from another time that it was. Despite the earlier hour, the street lamps were on, casting their golden glow over the frosted sidewalks.

  The air tasted fresh and crisp, and she began to get excited for Christmas—until it hit her that she didn’t have presents for anyone. The realization sent her into a spiraling panic.

  It was a little less than two weeks until the big day. Bending into the cold, her frown deepened. She hoped everyone liked oranges and homemade cards because her options for shopping were limited to Stewart’s and the general store that looked like it had been a saloon at one time.

  The last couple of blocks to the library, she racked her brain over presents. She was so focused, she hadn’t realized she’d arrived until her hand was gripping the knob.

  Inside, she stomped the snow off of her snow boots and unzipped her jacket. She steeled herself for her conversation with the librarian, whom she’d met only once but that had been enough to leave an impression. Granted at the time, Ella had been searching for books on poison, so the librarian’s impression of her might well be the same.

  “Boy, it’s really coming down out there, huh?” a pleasant voice called.

  A young woman about Ella’s age sat at the reference desk. Her auburn hair hung in a French braid that draped over her shoulder.

  “God’s dandruff. Probably could use some Head and Shoulders. Hopefully, it sticks around long enough for a white Christmas,” Ella said wistfully. “On the side of the mountains where I’m from, we rarely see snow on Christmas. Not unless it’s manufactured in a bottle.”

  The young woman’s eyes widened slightly as she pushed a pair of wire-rim glasses up her nose. “They make snow in a can where you’re from?”

  “I think ‘snow’ is a bit generous, but it’s ‘snow-like’.” Ella looked the gal up and down, trying to peg what century she was from.

  “You are the new girl, are you not?”

  “Yes, Ella.” They shook hands.

  “Gabby.”

  “Gabby?” Ella faltered. “Oh. Are you the librarian?”

  “Yes, I know. I look far too pretty and young to be one.”

  Ella grinned. “It’s just that, when I was in here before, I spoke with another woman who tried to help me.” Her voice caught on the word help. “She was…” Ella searched for an appropriate adjective.

  “As soft as a pin cushion?”

  “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

  “Ah, that would be my Aunt Agnes. She’s been the librarian for the past thirty years. She has been teaching me so that I can take over for her. She seems unpleasant now. But when you get to know her, you find out she’s even worse.”

  Ella laughed. “I know the type.”

  “Is there something I can help you find?”

  “Actually, Shelly Rossi and Grandma Wink told me the town archives are kept here with old editions of Keystone Corner?”

  “They are.”

  Gabby led Ella around bookcases, weaving a path towards the back. The reached a dimly lit section of the library.

  “Sorry, it’s a bit dark here. I put in a—what’s it called?” She scrunched up her face. “A requisition for some new bulbs, but it seems the library’s lower priority whenever we manage to get new stock or Will fixes the filaments. Something about the doctor’s office being more important and wanting to see while Pauline fixed up patients.”

  “Sure, sure. Wouldn’t want any Frankenstein-type monsters running around.”

  “I tell you,” Gabby said, “light bulbs are worth more than gold here.”

  Turning to the nearest bookcase, she pointed to several rows of binders and explained the catalog system for the old newspapers.

  The librarian lingered, seeming to enjoy the presence of another human being in the building, while Ella flipped through some of the old clippings.

  Gabby began talking about the local radio show’s recent performance of A Midsummer Nightmare—their Halloween show back by popular demand. Ella found she liked listening to the librarian. Grazing through the newspapers, Ella worked her way through another binder and absently scanned the articles while Gabby launched into a rendition of last Sunday’s show.

  She’d become so engrossed in the librarian’s impression of Sal as Pluck, the barber with the magical power to make someone’s hair grow overnight, that it took her a moment to realize a familiar face stared back at her from the page.

  Gabby’s voice faded as Ella brushed a finger over a black and white picture of Will. His hair was different, and his face had a slight fullness to it, the lingerings of youth. His mouth was in a firm line, and his eyes held pain and sadness.

  The article was one of the new arrival profile pieces Shelly was trying to get Ella to do. It was dated August 27, 1951. A few days after the jumping began.


  The title read, “Inventor Stranded.” She skimmed the piece, snagging on the last paragraph where it told how he’d left behind a younger sister.

  “Handsome, isn’t he?”

  Ella nearly dropped the binder. At some point, Gabby had stopped talking and began peering over Ella’s shoulder.

  “Have you met Will? He’s a sweetheart and the town’s most eligible bachelor.” Her voice took on a wispy quality.

  “Yeah, we’re friends. I didn’t know he left behind a sister.” Ella stilled, staring at a far-off point, and her chest tightened. A phrase Rose had once said referring to Keystone Village came floating back.

  Sometimes, the cost is too high.

  Gabby stepped in front of Ella again and fiddled with her braid. “He doesn’t really talk about his old life.”

  “I’m beginning to realize most people here don’t.”

  Gabby moved to the bookcase and pushed the binders so their spines were flush with each other. “It’s a bit painful.”

  Ella watched her, wondering what pain lay in her past, who she’d been ripped from. Was this Ella’s future? A happy present and future with a past of shadows and scars too difficult to talk about?

  Thinking about home, sometimes, made it difficult to breathe, and she’d spent more nights than she would like to admit crying herself to sleep. However, to ignore the fact that she had a family or home before arriving in Keystone felt like she was leaving a part of herself behind.

  Ella closed the binder, feeling like she was intruding on a private part of Will’s life, and replaced it on the shelf. Next, she asked Gabby where she could find information on European history, particularly a during the thirteenth century.

  A tour down aisles and an armful of books later, Ella settled at a table while Gabby went to help a mother and daughter who’d just stepped up to the desk to check out a couple of books.

  Ella cracked open the hardback encyclopedia lying at the top of the stack and quickly found the section she was searching for. The minutes flew by as she entrenched herself in a bloody history of invasion and war spanning time and territory.

  The earliest mention of the Romani people in Romania was in 1385, a hundred forty-two years after the time they were currently in. Furthermore, if they were in the year 1243, that meant two things. The conquest of Transylvania by the Mongols had happened two years prior, and these people might be the great-great-grandparents of the people on the page—which did not bode well.

  Her finger brushed over a paragraph as she read it again. The Romani mentioned in 1385 were slaves, valued for their various skills, and treated like a commodity. History was not on their side, and things were only going to get worse for them for the next couple of centuries.

  If they remained in Romania.

  She set the third book aside and rubbed her temples, considering their options. She needed to bring this information before the sheriff. Maybe they couldn’t keep the caravan long-term, but perhaps they could ride out a jump or two until they found a safer place.

  She’d watched enough science fiction movies to know that it was dangerous to play with the timeline or something like that, but it was hard to just let them go, knowing their future generation’s fate.

  Ella glanced up at the clock and jumped from her chair. It was nearly time for the inn’s family dinner. She hurriedly returned the books to their respective places, despite Gabby’s protests that she didn’t need to.

  The librarian walked her to the front. As they passed the bibliography section, Ella noticed a large map of Keystone tacked to the wall.

  She paused and stared at it. “Do you have any more of these?” She inclined her head at the faded map.

  “What? Maps?”

  “Yeah, of the town.”

  Gabby scrunched her nose, her glasses shifting up as she did. “Yeah, I guess. But they’re old, before part of the town was built. They don’t even have the school or the park on it. Or Lake Drive, come to think of it.”

  “This is the most up to date one?” She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.

  A thumbtack had worked its way out of one of the corners, and the map curled up like a finger reaching for her.

  Gabby told her it was the most current.

  “Can I borrow it?”

  The librarian’s eyes widened slightly, and her eyes flitted over to the aged paper. “I don’t know. My aunt would kill me if she knew—”

  “I’ll be careful, I promise. I won’t put pins in it, and I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done with it.” When that was, she couldn’t say.

  Gabby chewed her lip, nodding slowly. Together, they pulled the pins out and roll the parchment up. Gabby searched a dusty closet and found a cardboard tube holding an old movie poster. After setting aside the poster, Ella slipped the map inside the cylinder.

  “Can I ask what you want with the map?”

  Ella eyed Gabby a moment before responding, gauging the librarian’s reaction. “I want to map out the boundary line.”

  Gabby’s eyes brightened. “That’s a great idea. Of course, it’s obvious where the boundary is most of the time. But on days like this, when everything’s covered in snow, it can be a bit dangerous…” Her voice dropped off. “But that’s not why you’re doing it, is it?”

  “You’re very perceptive.”

  “Well, I am a librarian.” She pushed her glasses up her nose again. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “Right, again.” Ella clutched the canister to her chest and reached for the door. “It’s probably nothing, anyway.”

  The librarian sighed. “Very well. But if it’s anything exciting, you have to tell me. All I have for entertainment is the drama club’s Sunday show.”

  Ella winced. “This town should consider doing movies in the park or something. I’m sure there’s some old reels here somewhere. Or maybe plays or something.”

  “Oh, we used to do movies in the park.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “About three years ago, most of the town had gathered to watch Casablanca for the hundredth time when some of the locals crashed through with spears and slings.”

  “I guess that put some people off—”

  “Oh, no, they were fine. It was the grenade one of our townspeople threw. Landed under the projector and blew it to the heavens.”

  Ella shook her head. “Flo?”

  “That is what most of us surmised, but she’ll never admit to it.”

  “Of course not.”

  CHAPTER 22

  ELLA’S bedroom door closed with a soft click. As she turned around, she heard howling in the hallway outside and the rubbing of paws over her door. Sighing, she cracked the door wide to accommodate the cat’s girth and long fur. Fluffy slinked in, sniffed the rolled tube in her hand, then jumped onto her fourposter bed.

  After closing the door again, she glanced at the clock. One minute before dinner began. She didn’t want to be late, but this was more important.

  Slipping the map out, she unfurled it on the cherry wood plank flooring. With Fluffy claiming the bed, there was no other space big enough. At least the floor had been cleaned recently.

  Using a vase, a couple candle holders, and a small bust of an unknown person, she set the objects on the four corners of the parchment. The yellowed paper crinkled but held.

  With her finger, she noted places she had for sure seen the line of demarcation for the town. Both ends of Main Street. The edge of Jonas’s field.

  North and south were easiest as the road left an open horizon. However, she was unsure how far the territory stretched west, past the apple orchards and Jesse’s homestead, as well as east of the forest.

  Closing her eyes, she recalled the view from heart attack inducing flight with Wink then traced a timid finger where she’d seen the evergreens end and the jungle of the previous location begin.

  Jimmy called up the staircase, telling her it was time for dinner and Flo had already started in despite the fact th
at they hadn’t said grace yet and please, for the love of God, hurry.

  Ella scrambled to replace the makeshift paperweights, realizing she needed a better way to mark the map. She had promised Gabby not to mark it up or push pins in it. Sticky notes weren’t an option since she couldn’t go down to the local office supply store.

  As she slid the rolled map back into its poster holder, she decided on taking a picture of it with her cell phone then mark it up in one of her apps. But the thought of straining her eyes at the small screen and zooming in and out all the time didn’t appeal to her. Not to mention the loss of battery power—especially if the town started implementing brownouts.

  Researching on her phone would also decrease the likelihood of someone seeing what she was doing. She didn’t really want to have to explain it, especially since it was just a hunch. Keystone citizens were sensitive about anything having to do with the jumps.

  As she walked towards the kitchen, lively voices floated in from the dining room. The table had been set with candles and china and a center display of small pumpkins, gourds, and willow branches.

  “Well, isn’t this fancy,” she said.

  Something in her stomach fluttered when she noticed Will had been invited. Without his trademark fedora or straw hat, a lock of his chocolate hair escaped and curled over his forehead.

  Ella settled into the chair beside him, admiring the decorations aloud. “Rose, if I’d known you were going to all of this trouble, I would’ve helped instead of sticking you with Tweedledum and Tweedledee over here.” Ella jerked her head towards the two older women sitting across from her.

  Wink stuck out her tongue, and Flo flipped her off.

  “Nonsense, dear. It was nothing.”

  “She had help.” Flo dug into a mountain of mashed potatoes on her plate—the only dish with food.

  “Thanks for waiting for everyone else, Flo,” Ella said.

  “Honestly, ” Wink admonished, “you’d think you were raised in a barn.”

  “I was.”

  “I said barn, not farm.”

  “I think you mean she was raised in a cave,” Will said.