by Jina Bacarr
I can.
This is where my journey ends. On the train. The whimsical forces of time bringing down the curtain, but not before giving me a second chance to tell Jeff about the letter. I know now I can’t co-exist with my other self so I may look different to him. It’s something I feel – my suit fits snugger like before, no doubt my face is more angular – since I left my other self behind. In the dim light and excitement of the moment, I pray he won’t notice. I picture the skepticism in his eyes, the swirling questions, and I admit, I’m very upset to realize he may not believe me. That idea sends me into despair, more grief than I experienced after the news came he was killed in the war. Because here, now, I can change that. Make sure it never happens.
I can’t stop the tears forming in my eyes. Hot tears, but not bitter. I can’t explain it, but it’s clear to me no matter what happens, it’s time for me to move on. First, I have to change the future. A rumbling beneath my feet makes me shiver and my skin goes cold. A warning not to dawdle. I look down at my coat. The bottom button is missing.
‘My God, Kate, you could have been killed.’
Jeff.
He scoops me up in his arms and holds me so tight I can’t breathe, his lips hot, his embrace making me feel every inch his woman.
‘My darling,’ I whisper. ‘I’ve found you. I can’t let you go, not now, not ever.’
‘I can’t tell you how miserable I’ve been, Kate, since that I got that call… my orders came through and I had no choice. When I didn’t see you, I thought my mother told you not to come, but you did anyway. Oh, God, I love you, Jelly Girl.’
I silence his lips with my finger. ‘Don’t say a word. We don’t have much time. Listen to me.’
‘No, let me look at you. We’ll have time to talk when I get a furlough. I’ll be gone two weeks, maybe three, then I’ll be back home before I’m shipped overseas to train in Scotland.’ He’s so excited, the words slip out. He’s talking about being trained in a special facility in Scotland for operatives dropped into France. ‘As much as I want you to come with me to the Capitol, I can’t take you. Someone from the War Department is meeting me and there’s no telling what he’ll do if he sees a beautiful girl like you with me.’
I nod. I understand. They’ll label me what the military calls a good-time Jane and send me home with my tail between my legs. His mother will never stop gloating and make my life miserable. He’s trying to protect me and I love him for it.
He turns, looking for the conductor. ‘I’m stopping this train. Tell the stationmaster to have our company car pick you up—’
I pull on his sleeve so hard, he stares at me, disbelieving. ‘I’m not going back, Jeff. At least not back to Posey Creek, not to the time I left.’
Jeff stares at me, his eyes sparking. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’ve never been so sure of anything, Jeff. Please don’t stop me. I know about the special orders you received, the training overseas, the secret mission for the OSS, Office of Strategic Services—’
‘Stop right there, Kate. Do you know what you’re saying?’ He keeps his voice perfectly calm, though the shocked look in his face says otherwise.
‘Yes… there’s more.’
‘More? What the blazes are you talking about?’
‘Your life is in danger.’
How do you explain to a man about to go into a war zone he won’t come back?
I take deep breaths to gather my courage while I note the curious stares from the servicemen milling about the railcar. I wonder how much they heard but I doubt they’re listening. Most likely they’re replaying in their minds their own departure with that special someone. The loud steam whistle blows as we pick up speed. I hold onto Jeff since we haven’t found seats yet, but surprisingly no one is pushing or shoving their way through since this train doesn’t appear to be full. A lucky break for me.
God knows I need some luck. I want to tell Jeff about the letter, but I can’t. I need to gain his confidence first. Not easy to do. I’m not surprised by his hard stare, the quizzical look in those dark eyes, the curve of his sensual mouth as he mulls over my words. Then he cups my chin and tries to read the truth in my eyes, see if I’m ribbing him and this is a fantastic joke.
That’s when I tell him I know the future.
He stops, stares, smiles in that funny way of his, and then stares again. Taking it in, and if I know him as well as I think I do, he won’t laugh. He doesn’t.
No, this gorgeous man who defies society’s mores and walks his own path in life holds me close. He whispers in my ear he loves me no matter what crazy things I say, giving me the feeling I’m the luckiest girl ever and I must have a good reason for making such outlandish statements. I have to tell him everything. The bond between us will either break or become stronger. That scares the hell out of me. I settle down, stop fidgeting with the buttons on my coat, finding some comfort in seeing the familiar empty buttonhole. Which reminds me that Lucy needs me back in my own time to help her save her marriage. I can’t let her down, but first I have to get my own life put back together.
Thinking this has a profound calming effect on me, that I can deliver the facts in a clear voice about how I got here, why I’m here, and what Jeff must do to avoid being killed. I also feel a sense of acceptance that whatever happens, I’ve been a player in this drama and done my best.
Not yet. There’s some business to deal with first.
‘Ticket, miss,’ the conductor says in a nonchalant manner.
‘I – uh, lost it.’ I look at Jeff with sad eyes. ‘Mildred had a flat and—’
‘I’ll buy the lady another ticket, conductor.’ He whips out his wallet. I breathe out, relieved. Thank God he changed his mind about stopping the train. I pray it’s because he believes me.
‘Sorry, sir.’ The railroad man shakes his head, giving me the onceover. Disapproving of my disheveled appearance, not to mention that I have no luggage. ‘We’re not allowed to sell tickets on a moving train. War regulations.’ Not true, but there’s no arguing with him. He thinks I’m a V-Girl. ‘The young woman can get off at the next stop and buy a ticket there.’
‘I can’t do that,’ I protest, grabbing Jeff’s hand. He gives me a warm squeeze and that gives me courage. ‘What if the train leaves without me?’
The conductor shakes his head. ‘Sorry, that’s the best I can do. There’ll be another train.’
Not for me, there won’t.
He tips his cap and then moves on down the car, checking tickets. He assumes I’ll get off the train. He has no idea what’s racing through my mind. That I have no intention of getting off at the next stop.
Even as my nerves twist into tangled knots, I don’t show it. I have to appear to have the situation under control if this is going to work. In a low voice I say, ‘I’ll explain everything as soon as we find a seat.’
He nods. ‘You have no idea how much that idea intrigues me.’ He tries to smile, but there’s an edge to his voice that tells me he isn’t on board yet with my wild story. I had better make him believe it pretty damn quick before the train stops.
We find seats in the back next to a snoozing – or should I say snoring – woman with a feather on her hat that dances on a puff of air every time she breathes out. A little girl sits next to her, mumbling to her doll she mustn’t complain about being hungry.
Now to settle my news on this dear, unsuspecting man who keeps his arm wrapped around me, his lips brushing my cheek. As if he’s afraid I’ll disappear. He doesn’t know how right he is. I settle in against his chest, allowing myself this moment of contentment. I wish I could stuff it into a bottle and toss it into the sea ruled by the changing tides so it will wash ashore in my own time. I want to stay in his arms till the end of the line. Let his heat fill me up down to my cold toes in my flimsy black pumps. His lips burn my skin, his hands wrap tightly around me.
I’m not ready to leave you.
‘Do you love me, Jeff?’ I say, stalling.
‘Love you? You’re my world, Kate.’ He nuzzles his face in my hair. ‘I adore you.’
‘Even if what I tell you doesn’t make any sense in the scheme of things?’
‘Let me guess,’ he says, coming back with a quip to break the tension between us. ‘You want to marry Santa Claus instead of me.’
‘Careful, Jeff.’ I nod toward the little girl. ‘We’re not alone.’
The child perks up. ‘Is she really going to marry Santa, mister?’
‘Not if I can help it.’ Jeff smiles big. ‘She’s going to marry me when I come home on furlough.’
Oh, Jeff, if only…
The little girl heaves out a big sigh of relief. ‘Oh, goody. I was so scared.’
‘Scared? Why?’ I have to ask, putting my own problems aside. Or am I delaying the inevitable?
‘Santa doesn’t have time to get married. He’s too busy getting ready to bring Tillie and me presents.’ She hugs her doll tight.
‘I’m sure he won’t forget you and Tillie.’ My heart goes out to the child.
I’m ready to blurt out everything – how I got here, the letter, what it says – when the train stops and the conductor makes his way down the aisle toward me. The skin around his eyes wrinkles up like tight knots when he sees us holding each other. It doesn’t change his mind. ‘Time to get off, miss.’
‘Please, we may not see each other for a long time,’ I plead.
‘Sorry, the rules say you can’t go any farther.’
‘One more stop—’
Then Jeff does an amazing thing. He pulls out a telegram from his breast pocket and unfolds it. ‘These are my orders from the War Department for special assignment overseas. I have no idea when – or if – I’ll return home.’
I’m too startled to speak. He does believe me.
I look at him closer and see a thoughtful but shaken young man waiting for me to confirm what he already knows. The assignment is a dangerous one and he wants to hear my story. Wants it badly enough to show his hand.
‘Well, sir, I don’t know…’ the conductor says, debating whether or not to believe him. Before he can make up his mind, the train starts going again, as if another hand guides it.
‘We’re leaving the station.’ I stand up, then look over my shoulder as the train whizzes by the passengers left standing on the platform. Yes, those whimsical forces are at it again.
‘That’s mighty strange.’ The conductor checks his pocket watch. ‘We barely stopped here, but we’re not behind schedule.’ The whistle blows a long, shrill blast. ‘You’d best sit down, miss. The engineer is picking up speed, though I don’t know why. You can get off at the next stop.’
‘Thank you, conductor,’ I say without any apology in my voice. ‘You’ll never know I was here,’ I mutter under my breath.
Jeff starts to say something when the floor of the railcar begins to shake, jolting us. He stares at me, holding his breath. I hold onto the seat tight as I sit down and the floor rolls beneath my feet, then it stops as abruptly as it starts.
A warning.
I don’t have much time left.
24
‘I came back to Posey Creek, Jeff, to save you from a mission gone wrong.’
‘Save me how?’ he asks, his mind working hard to grasp my words.
‘It’s rather complicated,’ I say, going slow.
‘I’m listening, Kate.’ His voice is gravelly, like he’s reaching down into his battered soul to find answers. ‘Why, I don’t know, but I am.’
I fuss with the buttons on my red coat, choosing my words with care. ‘I’m not the same girl you knew.’
‘I believe you, Kate.’ Jeff’s sincerity comes through in the touch of his fingers entwining with mine. ‘There’s something different about you… the way you walk, look at me…’
‘The way I kiss you?’ I whisper.
Coal-black eyes lock with mine, the passion of that kiss not forgotten. ‘Damn it, Kate, if you only knew the terrible guilt I carry around about keeping you out all night. I swear, I had no idea I’d be called up to Washington today.’
‘I know.’
He looks away, his mind spinning. ‘What’s going on? Why have you changed?’
‘You said I’ve been acting different. Well, it’s because I am different, Jeff. I’m still me, but I come from another time – years into the future.’
‘Okay, I’ll bite,’ he says, going along with me. For now. ‘How far into the future?’
‘Twelve years.’
‘Is the war over?’
‘Yes.’
For the first time, I see a smirk on his face. ‘Then we won. We beat the Nazis.’
‘Yes, my darling, we won, but you…’
I waited for days for this moment, to finally tell him what haunted me for twelve long years and I can’t say the words. My face feels warm and my lips dry as I watch his reaction to a slew of words that hit him hard. He faces me head-on, shoulders strong and straight, fists clenched, as if I confirmed what he already knows.
‘I didn’t come back,’ he says slowly. ‘That’s why you’re here.’
‘Then you do believe me.’ Thank God. ‘Oh, Jeff, I was so afraid you’d think I lost my mind.’
‘I should think that, Kate. Any man in his right senses would. I suspected something ever since that day you found me cutting down the big fir tree. There was a different look about you, especially your eyes. A deep sadness I never saw before. My young bride-to-be was replaced by a different woman. A woman who knew deep sorrow.’ He ruffles his hand through his hair in that familiar way I love so well. ‘I couldn’t shake the feeling it had something to do with me.’
‘Yes, that was the day after I got here.’ I explain to him how I was on a train heading back to Posey Creek in 1955, reading a letter, when the train nearly clipped a stopped railcar, and how I slipped and hit my head.
‘So that’s why you came with me to the house on the river, let me hold you in my arms and caress your beautiful body. I wanted to stop a thousand times, but I sensed this would be the only time we’d be alone together for a long time. I acted selfish and kept you with me all night.’ Jeff groans. ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I never meant to hurt you.’
‘Hurt me?’ Wanting so to make him understand that he made me whole again, I blurt out, ‘Whatever happens, I’ll always have that night with you holding me, loving me, my darling. Never forget that.’
He nods. I read in his eyes that he has questions. ‘There’s more, Kate, isn’t there?’
‘Yes. A letter I received from an old Army buddy of yours.’
‘A buddy? When?’
‘He wrote it after the war with instructions to send it to me after his death. That’s why I didn’t receive it until twelve years later. What you must know is that after you parachute into France and meet up with the underground, there’s a traitor among them. A Frenchman you call Leftie.’
He lets out a low whistle, shocked at what he hears. ‘How the hell do you know I’m going to France?’
I bite my lip. ‘It’s in the letter the sergeant sent to me.’
‘I don’t know any sergeant.’
‘You will.’ I hold back a beat, no more. ‘His name is Sergeant Herbert Drew Peterson. Herbie. According to him, you mustn’t trust this man Leftie. He’ll sell you out to the Gestapo—’
Jeff flinches. ‘The Gestapo?’
‘Yes. They’ll be waiting for you at the rendezvous point. That’s when…’ Another beat, because my heart stops. I can’t break down, go soft on him. Somehow I have to weave a story with each thread so perfect, so strong he’ll have to believe me. That he won’t push me away. No, instead he’ll take me in his arms and hold me, the fine wool of his suit jacket scratching my cheek when I bury my face into his chest. I swear I won’t cry, that he won’t see even the tiniest tear when he smooths my hair away from my face.
He grabs me, holds me, and this time I glimpse the innate fear every man has going into combat, even if he won’t admit it.
‘Tell me, Kate. I can take it.’
‘The sergeant said you were killed or captured by the Gestapo and most likely, tortured to death. No one ever heard from you again.’ I stop to suck in a breath. ‘Months later, you were declared Killed in Action.’
There, I said it. I don’t feel relieved. If anything, I wonder if this is a big mistake coming back here. That I planted information in his mind that will make things worse. A moment, then two. He doesn’t say a word, as if the truth hovers in the background and he can’t decide whether or not to grasp it. Then a funny smile comes over his face. ‘I get it. There is no letter. This is your way of trying to keep me safe. Looking out for me, like you did when we were kids.’
I panic, hardening my resolve not to be so easy on him, to tell him everything so he’ll have to believe me. ‘It’s true, Jeff, please listen to me.’
‘No, you listen,’ he says, butting heads with me, his male pride showing in his assessment of my story. ‘You’re guessing I’m going to France because I speak French. You know about the trips my father and I took to Europe. How you figured out I’m joining up with the OSS, I don’t know, unless you’re listening at keyholes. Not that I blame you. I’d do the same if I thought I was losing you.’ He kisses the tip of my nose. ‘I love you for it. To think you almost had me fooled.’
I blink. This is not the reaction I expected.
‘The letter exists, Jeff. I swear. Here, I’ll show it to you.’ I dig into my pocket, afraid if I look at the letter, I’ll be swept away in a time vacuum. I have to prove it to him. ‘Take a look for yourself.’ I pull out the crackly paper and unfold it. ‘Oh, no.’
The letter is gone. Instead, I hold the drawing he made of me. Somehow it got into my pocket. I remember now. My younger self put it there back in 1943. I carried the drawing with me for good luck that day and gave it to him before he left.
I want to cry. It’s a terrible blow to my heart to know I failed. The letter didn’t travel back with me. How can it? It isn’t written yet. I’m a fool. How am I going to make him believe me? I don’t have much time. The conductor will escort me off the train at the next stop.