Warne’s entrance seemed to have the effect of bringing a focus to the family gathering. “More chipping away at the edges,” Grandpapa Forrest told his constable. “Caleb’s cabin and farm are gone and he and Betsy came right back here to tell us.”
Warne nodded. He’d figured out Sylvie’s ‘dropped in the void’ message as they ran to the house. “I’m real sorry, Caleb,” he said. “Know how much that place meant to you.”
Caleb had told him how he’d farmed that same land back in his former life in the 1860s. This had to be an enormous loss for him and Betsy.
“Sorry, Bets,” he added for her benefit.
She gave a wry smile. “We’ve got to figure this out or we may all find ourselves outside Lavender before it comes to an end.”
Grandpapa nodded. “We need to have a public meeting.”
“Not before we determine some answers,” Zan objected. “People will panic.”
“They have a right to know the truth,” Evan Stephens said, his dark eyes serious. “My grandfather trusted them with the truth back when they had to vote to close themselves off to keep from spreading deadly flu to the rest of the world.”
Grandpapa sent the constables and a few volunteers out into the countryside to notify the rural residents of the meeting scheduled for noon the next day. He and the other older council members made their usual contacts to block leaders who notified those few town dwellers who hadn’t already heard from the quickly spreading gossip lines.
By eleven a.m. the crowds were growing outside the high school building downtown where meetings were always held in the auditorium. Warne, who had gotten little sleep the previous night, stood guard at the front, seeing to it that an orderly entrance was made by the streaming crowd.
Though it was summer and school out, even the older students, who usually had better things to do then attend official meetings unless Betsy was entertaining, showed up, taking the seats at the back of the auditorium.
It was only when everybody who wanted in was inside and seated that Warne and his buddy escorted Grandpapa Forrest and the other council members to their seats on the central stage.
A couple of kids called out, “Hey Mister, is it the end of the world?” while others snickered. But most of the crowd was solemn as if at a funeral.
They were scared, Warne figured, and he reckoned there was plenty to be scared about. When he sat down in one of the few unoccupied seats in the last row, he scowled at the rambunctious boy in the next seat until the kid moved, leaving the seat available. He moved over to the abandoned seat and motioned to Violet to take the one on the aisle that he’d just left.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, not caring that the old rumors about his imaginary friend were about to spread once more.
Imaginary, hell! As far as he was concerned Violet was the most alive person in the whole auditorium.
Nothing was right for Betsy when she and Caleb were on the outs. Since she’d first seen the man in his gray uniform in the old summer kitchen on Crockett Street, he’d centered her life.
Their first years together had been filled with the war and its troubles, with the birth of their children and the settling of a new home. But now two very stubborn people had to find their way forward.
It was hard to shove all this from her mind and focus, as she must, on the leadership role she played in Lavender by being the only person who could walk unassisted across the line into another time.
Well, Violet had done it, but in a different way. She didn’t walk across lines. She dreamed her way in and out of the community and seemed to have little control over how and when it happened.
She would have added the thought that Violet wasn’t here anyway, but looking back at the look on Warne’s face as he glanced to the empty seat on the aisle next to him, she wasn’t sure that was true.
Caleb sat on the front row next to her parents and Eddie and Zan. She saw Sylvie, who had this time left babysitting to others, near the back with her friends. Few citizens of Lavender were missing this day which meant they were taking this issue seriously, fearing that not only land and property, but some of their own might follow the way of Maudie Clarence and vanish into that alarming outside world.
The Clarences themselves, all four of them, were somewhat lost in the crowd in the middle of the auditorium, but Betsy could see the look of anxiety on their faces. Like everyone else in the auditorium, their pale faces glistered with sweat and tension. Such meetings were normally scheduled in the early evening on hot summer days; the fact that they were here at noon indicated the severity of the crisis.
When Grandpapa stood, dressed in the full dignity of suit and tie, he didn’t have to pound his gavel for silence. Quiet fell like a blanket on the crowd.
“Friends and neighbors,” his sonorous voice rolled across them, reaching clearly even to the back of the room where Warne sat among the youngsters, “I am here to tell you the straight story of what has been happening so that you won’t have to rely on rumors or word of mouth.”
“About time!” a male voice called from near the back, sounding young and angry. Betsy allowed herself the flicker of a smile. Even in Lavender, the young of each generation was given to rebellion. There were always a few of them who wanted the borders lowered and times melted together. Occasionally, with the permission of family, she’d escorted the most daring across the line where her relatives on the other side tried to introduce them to that world without too much culture shock over such things as automobiles, modern clothes and music , and the ongoing battles between warring powers.
Every once in a while one or two of them decided to actually stay in 21st century America.
Grandpapa Forrest quickly and simply outlined the events starting with Violet and Lady Laura’s arrival in Lavender, Betsy’s temporary inability to exit the community, and, his tone increasingly sober, the story of Maudie’s banishment to London and the rest of the family finding themselves along with home, outbuildings and farm animals suddenly resident on the other side of the timeline.
Nodding to another councilman, he sat down and left the debate to others. With some shock Betsy recognized that her step-grandfather looked pale and at least ten years older than he had only days ago.
She glanced at her father in the front row of the auditorium and was met with a slight nod. Evan was keeping an eye on Forrest. He was a doctor and if he thought it necessary he would remove him from the upcoming discussion.
She looked at her husband, hoping for an encouraging smile, but Caleb’s gaze was on Grandpapa.
The council entertained motions from the floor, most of them impractical. One woman suggested they all gather in the center of town and was indignant when others asked how long they could survive without food being brought in from the farms. Such mundane concerns, she said, were beyond consideration when lives were in danger.
Betsy refrained from pointing out that starvation was also a risk. So far, in fact, she hadn’t contributed a word, knowing that her presence on the stage was more as a tool than a leader. They might give her instructions on how she as a time-walker could help matters.
She hoped so.
Farmers voiced their concern that they could not abandon animals and crops to take refuge along with other, obviously less essential workers. This point started a noisy quarrel among the various professions as to which was the most significant.
Talk became more a matter of give and take across the auditorium so that even Grandpapa’s determined gavel failed to bring the noise volume down.
When Betsy’s brother-in-law was summoned to the stage as the resident scientific expert, his wife came with him. Eddie, small and fierce at his side, looked ready to defend Zan with her life if necessary.
Which was quite likely, Betsy thought, as Zan had all the tact of a blundering hippo.
“You’re acting like idiots,” Zan began with his usual lack of diplomacy.
Lavender’s residents were not shocked. They’d known Eddie’s husband
for a couple of years now and had learned that special license had to be given since he was a ‘genius’ which many of them defined as mentally lacking.
They did quiet down enough to listen to him give explanations about what seemed to be happening to Lavender. It had to do with atoms and protons and moving parts of time. Even Betsy who had traveled more than most residents of Lavender did understand more than every third word.
It helped a little when Eddie translated into common language. “Zan thinks that somehow Betsy anchors us here and when Violet arrived it put things off balance. Then when Violet was sucked away, somehow Maudie who was outside when her family and home went flying across the line was attracted to her motion . . .kind of like Violet was a magnet drawing up a pin.
Her husband stared at her in astonishment. “No, that’s not it, Eddie,” he protested. “If XY equaled . . .”
She put a finger to his mouth, shushing him.
Miranda, mother of Betsy’s long-time friend Susan, waved her hand in the air and Forrest called out permission for her to speak. She stood. “But Eddie,” she said, “Betsy wasn’t even born when Dr. Tyler set Lavender aside and she didn’t come until long after.”
Eddie shook her head, but Zan answered. “The doctor was an astute scientist who planned for the future. He had looked ahead enough to know of significant events and he knew Betsy with her special abilities would come. My theory is that Tyler Stephens peeked ahead into the future and saw Lavender in existence and that was what made him conduct his experiment, knowing before he started that he would be successful.”
People shook their heads all over the auditorium and even Betsy had trouble wrapping her mind around this concept.
Chapter Twenty Six
From her back row seat, Violet began to feel almost a part of things even though she knew she was only here in dreams and nobody but Warne could see her.
As Tyler Stephens only daughter she was meant to be here and part of happenings. His son, her brother, had come through time as normally as any other resident of Lavender, but she’d been shoved ahead to grow up in the new century.
Tyler’s descendants had been left behind to safeguard the people of Lavender and, though she didn’t know how, she began to realize that both her father and mother were trusting her to play her part.
She smiled at the thought of them. What funny parents Laura Smythe-Hatton and Tyler Stephens made. Self-centered, focused on larger issues than raising their own small child, she perceived that in their own fashion they had loved her.
And they’d left her with a whole raft of relatives and potential friends. Warne’s eyes met hers and she smiled, at that instant totally happy and at peace.
That peace was immediately shattered as Zan went on. “I’m hoping that when we talk to Violet James she’ll be able to give us some clues that will help us to solve this puzzle.”
“And to make what’s left of Lavender safe,” Eddie added.
Violet closed her eyes, trying to think through all the negatives of revealing herself and decided she had little choice. “Tell him,” she whispered to Warne. “Tell him I’m here and ready to answer any questions he wants to ask.”
“They’ll think we’re both out of our minds,” he said, then flashed that grin that always warmed her heart. She remembered the time when he’d had scarlet fever and kept talking to her so that his family thought he was crazy with fever.
“It won’t be the first time,” she said, not whispering this time, but using her normal voice. She only wished that someone here other than Warne and Betsy could hear her.
He stood, an indication that he wished to speak. Eddie nodded in his direction and people in the auditorium turned to look back at him.
Violet saw respect and affection in those glances and almost envied Warne the way he belonged here and was loved by his friends and neighbors. Even in the big house in London, she’d never had that sense of being in her own place with people who cared for her.
But then my parents were different, she thought with a certain grim pride. It’s no wonder I’m an original.
Warne waited until the sound around him died to silence, then he spoke in his deep voice that carried across the auditorium. “Violet wants me to say that she is here seeing and hearing everything that’s going on. She’s willing to answer any questions you want to ask.”
She expected laughter and there were titters here and there, but mostly they just waited to see how those on the stage would react. The people of Lavender were accustomed to the unexpected from the Stephens family and Warne was next thing to a relative.
But to Violet’s surprise it was someone in the audience who spoke first. Caleb Carr stood, leaning lightly on the cane he always carried. “If Warne says it’s so, then I believe him.” He edged his way past those seated between him and the aisle, moving out to act as Warne’s escort.
“How kind,” Violet whispered. From the first she’d like this man who so loved his Betsy and who had a much greater, though similar affliction to her own. And now she liked him even better as the first to publicly recognize Warne’s essential trustworthiness.
Warne took her hand and they walked together down the wide aisle and she barely gave thought to the knowledge that to onlookers Warne was solitary, his hand seemed held out at an odd angle as it grasped hers.
She saw two little girls who looked so much like Maudie that they had to be her sisters and smiled at them, but of course they couldn’t see her. Margaret was there, seated beside the Stephens’ housekeeper, whispering in her ear. She’d hadn’t been here long enough to be a part of the strangeness that was Lavender. All of this must seem bewildering to her.
Violet couldn’t help feeling that she owed Lady Laura’s one time maid support, as she did Mrs. Rolfe. She had felt little real closeness to the two women, but now she knew they had been guardian angels of a sort, assigned to her care by her own mother.
Their loyalty had been to Lady Laura, but as best they could they’d transferred it to her daughter. When Lady Laura was gone, they were to stand up and see that her child came into her share of the Smythe-Hatton inheritance. Margaret couldn’t be there to play her role, but Mrs. Rolfe continued to perform nobly.
It seemed to take forever moving down that aisle toward Caleb, but a comfort that he stood there waiting for them. Beyond and above them on the stage, she saw Betsy her face shining with pride in her husband.
“Warne,” Caleb greeted her companion and then, though he couldn’t see her, “Welcome back to Lavender, Violet.”
Leaning on his cane, he escorted them up the wooden steps on the left side and onto the stage. Violet hung back while Warne strolled confidently forward to stand at Eddie’s side, facing Zan. “As your questions,” he said calmly.
A stirring like a gentle wave sweeping across an ocean moved through the crowd, unsettling Violet so that she turned away to look appealingly at Betsy.
Betsy patted the chair at her side where her half-sister had been seated before she got up to join her husband in speaking. “Sit by me, Violet,” she said.
If she hadn’t known better, Violet would have thought Betsy could see her. Obediently she took the chair offered and whispered, “Thank you, Betsy.”
“Glad to have you here, “Betsy said as her husband sat down in the chair vacated by Zan.
Of course, Betsy could hear her.
Violet felt only mild surprise when Eddie spoke first. “Warne,” she said. “I understand you’ve known Violet James since you were a little boy.”
He nodded. “That’s right. At first I didn’t realize nobody else could see or hear her. That is except Betsy. She hears Violet.”
“And she’s from England?”
“London in 1940. Things are bad over there.”
“Better not go into that right now,” Zan said warningly with a glance at the audience. A ripple of disapproval moved through the audience, which was quailed by Forrest, who said, “Best for us if we don’t know what lies ahead, especially
considering it’s not our future.”
“But you have to know it was because our house was bombed that we came here,” Margaret called from the audience.
Because she was a newcomer, Grandpapa Forrest didn’t scold her for speaking out of turn other than to caution, “Miss Margaret, when a member of the audience wishes to speak, he or she rises to allow the chair to offer recognition.”
The chubby, yet dignified Margaret waved a dismissive hand. “That’s all right. I’ve said what I wanted to say.”
Forrest looked rather helplessly back to the three who stood at the front of the stage.
Eddie nodded to her husband as though surrendering the discussion to him. Violet thought with admiration that the two worked well as a team. Eddie had provided the softening edge of introduction and now Zan would get down to business.
He addressed himself to Warne though the question was for Violet. “Can you guess, Miss James, why you seem to have such a connection to Lavender?”
Violet swallowed hard, almost glad these people couldn’t see her because the question was embarrassingly personal. “I didn’t know many other children,” she said, “and then I began to dream of Warne and his friends in Lavender. Night after night I dreamed of these people I’d never met until I seemed to know them better than those in the house where I lived.”
Warne gave her such a look. It made her heart turn over. “Explain it in your own words,” she said softly.
“She dreamed of Lavender and all of us until we seemed real to her. As for me, I saw her everywhere, real as any person and only realized as I grew older that she wasn’t visible to others.”
“But how. . .why?” Zan stumbled over his own words, a habit he had when he was thinking hard. “Warne, she must have some connection to the very core of Lavender to come here as she has, both in dreams and in person, and taking others with her both ways?”
Warne just looked at her. He knew she heard the question as well as he did.
Lavender Dreaming: A Time Travel Romance (Lavender, Texas Series Book 5) Page 16