Echoes of Tomorrow (19 page)

"You little bitch, you're going to pay for that."  He held one hand to his temple while he ripped at the covers of the bed.

When he vaulted onto the mattress Elise ran around and out the door.   She threw a small table into his path behind her and knocked a floorlamp over as she raced down the stairway.  Grabbing the phone in the foyer, she punched in 911 a split second before he yanked the cord from the wall.

"You've had it now, bitch," he rasped as he stalked her, an evil smile of victory on his face.

Her mind ticked off every self-defense tactic she'd ever learned.  She knew whatever she did had better be right.  She might not have a second chance.  She could hear her instructor's voice repeating, "Keep them off guard."

Instead of continuing to retreat, she stopped dead in her tracks.  His brow furrowed in puzzlement, then he became enraged at this show of defiance.  His hand came up for a blow to her cheek.  It never made contact.

And he never knew what hit him.  Instead of retreating, Elise threw herself at him.  Her right hand went unerringly to his groin, grabbing a handful of Jeffrey's precious "family jewels" and twisting with all her strength.  His shriek of pain was music to her ears.  He doubled over, and the moment his face was within reach, she rammed her knee into it with all her might.  He dropped like a rock.

"Oh, my God, it worked!" she said in wonder, then ran for her purse and grabbed the cellular phone and tear gas.

The police were already on their way.  The call had registered her address a moment before it had been disconnected.  Even as she spoke to the 911 operator she could hear sirens coming from the other end of the avenue of oaks.

She opened the heavy front door and stepped out onto the veranda.  In the distance she could see spinning red and blue lights appearing and disappearing behind the huge old trees of the avenue. 

Just as Elise moved to step off the veranda pain shot from the roots of her hair and she felt herself yanked backward.  Jeffrey released the fistful of hair and spun her around, leaving bruises on her arm as he screamed at her.

"You're not running anywhere, bitch.  You couldn't run far enough to get away from me."  He stood, bent over, with one hand still protecting his groin.

She could hear the pounding footsteps of the sheriff and his men coming closer. Elise raked her nails across Jeffrey's cheek.

He screamed in pain and locked both hands around her throat.

"I'll kill you for that, you filthy whore!"  His thumbs increased the pressure and Elise fought panic and an encroaching blackness as she tried desperately to stomp on his instep.  Suddenly the air came whooshing into her lungs and her assailant's tight grip vanished. 

The sheriff and his deputy held Jeffrey with his arms pinioned behind him.  He looked around wildly, surprised at this show of force.  Rage distorted his features when his gaze fell upon Elise and he yanked free of his captors, lunging for her neck again.

"You think you've won!  You're never going to win!  I'll kill you first!"

Those last words were uttered a split second before the sheriff's nightstick came down with a loud
crack
on Jeffrey's head.  For the second time in only minutes, Jeff hit the floor like a rock.

A shaken Elise gave the sheriff all the details she could and handed over her answering machine tape with all of Jeff's calls recorded.  A deputy asked if she wanted to go in with them and fill out the paperwork to press formal charges.  She assured him she would take care of it first thing in the morning.

She watched in grim satisfaction as the paramedics carried Jeffrey out.  He still hadn't regained consciousness.  She didn't care if he ever did.

*******

The steamy, swirling bath did much to revive Elise's strength but very little for her spirits.  Scrubbing herself dry with a huge, thirsty towel, she tried to rub away the dirty feeling Jeffrey's hands had left.

In an attempt to lift her spirits, she slipped into a lacy, peach camisole set.  It didn't work.

Oh, Reed, if you were here, you could put your arms around me and make everything all right.

She didn't even realize that she'd wandered into Reed's room.  When she became aware of her surroundings she automatically started searching the room again for a clue.

The drawers yielded nothing new, and the only things under the bed were a few dust bunnies.

When she pulled the closet door open Reed's subtle fragrance engulfed her.  Emotions swamped her as his essence filled her senses.  She feared she would drown in them, but curiously, enjoyed the feeling.  She felt closer to Reed at that moment than she had since she'd watched him fade into the night.

The shirt he'd been wearing the morning he arrived hung in front of her.  She pulled it off the hanger and buried her face in the fabric, breathing deeply and cherishing the feel of the softness against her cheek.  On impulse, she pulled her camisole off and slipped her arms into the sleeves of the oversized shirt, pulling the edges together and hugging herself.

"Oh, darlin', you've gotta give me a sign.  I'm sure you've left me one.  If I only knew where to look."

Unable to sit still a moment longer, Elise leapt to her feet and slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand.

"Think. Think, Gerard."  A nagging feeling haunted her, like a child tugging on its mother's skirts.

"I know I got back there.  There must be a clue for me somewhere.  Where would it be?  Where would he have put it?  THINK!"

Her first instinct was the trunk.  That's where she’d discovered the proof that she would go back.  At least it was a start.

All traces of tiredness were gone as she took the stairs two at a time.  The trunk stood just where she'd left it in the dark alcove.  Rather than waste time going back for a flashlight, she dragged it under a bare light bulb and began systematically checking every book.

She was nearing the bottom when her mother’s birthstone ring clinked against something metal.  She scrambled blindly, her hands searching  until her fingers encircled a tin box.  Held up to the light, she thought it must be an antique tinderbox.

Hope surged anew at this foreign object in a trunk of ledgers.  She opened it with great care and pulled out a lone piece of folded paper.

"YES!" she shouted as she read the brief contents and recognized her own handwriting, not Reed's.

Four words shone up at her, offering hope and guidance like a lighthouse in the mist: 
It's the tea, stupid.

Books, papers and tinderbox went airborne as Elise made a dash for the stairs.

On her way to the kitchen she put what pieces she had of the puzzle together.  The note had said "the tea."  Reed had had some earlier in the day before disappearing.  She recalled him telling her that Nell had brought him some the night before he arrived here. 
It's been in my kitchen all along!
  She chastised herself for not realizing that she would have left herself a clue.

She skidded across the kitchen floor, Tom Cruise style,  and came to a stop in front of the coffeemaker.  Calming herself, she gently retrieved the old crock and removed the wax lid.

How did I do that, now?  I need to brew this just like I did for Reed.  Will it make a difference if I don't get it exactly right?

Elise filled the clear, glass pitcher and poured the water into the receptacle.  She placed a filter in the coffee holder and sprinkled the rest of the precious tea in.  She crossed her fingers and hoped it was enough.

While it brewed, she paced as impatiently as Reed had.  The water at last stopped gurgling in the machine, and she poured herself a full cup.   Her face screwed up at the disgusting smell, but she shrugged and toasted the air with her cup.

"Here's to you, darlin'.  I'm on my way."

Amazingly enough, it didn't taste as nasty as it smelled.  She could see how someone could develop a taste for it.  She forced another swallow.

She drained that cup and poured another.  Reed had consumed the entire pot.  So would she.

Not knowing whether she should feel different or not, Elise sat at the table.  Nothing so far.  How long would it take?

After several minutes she realized that Reed had spent the entire day with her, and the biggest part of the night, before anything happened to him.  How would she fill all that time?

Her first instinct was to call her friends and say good-bye, but it was the middle of the night.  Besides, what would she say?  "Hi, I'm leaving on a long trip.  It'll take a hundred and fifty years to get there.  Take care."  She didn't think so.

She decided to leave them a note.  Before she finished the thought she realized there was something that needed to be done.

She pulled a yellow legal pad and her Waterman pen from the antique desk in the study and sat down to compose her thoughts.

When she finished writing she re-read the holographic Will.  She'd left the house and antiques to the historical society, with a trust fund from her savings to be formed for the upkeep.  The rest of her money and belongings were distributed among charities and friends.  She'd named Janice Sevier Executrix of her estate.  The Will was in the event of her death, or her disappearance for a period of one year or longer.  She hoped it was legal.  Somewhere she'd read holographic Wills would stand up in court.  She stacked the Will on several papers that had her signature notarized, for comparisons if need be.

Then she wrote a letter to Jan.  In it she explained everything.  She promised to try and somehow leave something behind so Jan could believe Elise had truly gone to the past.  She told her not to worry, that this was the only way she could ever be truly happy.  Then she sealed it in an envelope and wrote on the outside:  To be opened May 22, 1995.

That done, she rose from the desk and made her way around the house, switching off lights after a long perusal of each room.  She ended in her bedroom, the lamp on the nightstand casting a dim, pinkish glow over the bed.

She was exhausted, whether from the day's events or the tea, she wasn't sure.

After crawling into bed, she curled up and hugged one of her pillows to her chest.  As she lay there, her mind finally began to accept the magnitude of what she'd done.  If this brew sent her into the past she would be leaving her life as she knows it behind.  Her career, her independence, her home, friends...everything.  Fear sliced through her like a sharp knife, setting all her nerves on end and causing her heart to pound with such violence she could hear it in her ears.  But at the same time, that heart leapt with joy at the thought of being reunited with Reed.  She admitted to herself that there was nothing in her life now.  Not even her dear friends could fill the gaping space in her soul that Reed had left.  It was as though there was one thing he'd managed to grasp and hold on to as he'd disappeared from her life, and that was the very best part of her.

Her exhaustion intensified, and she felt her muscles relaxing for the first time in weeks.  She summoned the energy to reach out to her beside lamp.  When her hand felt for the switch and missed, she pried open one eye to locate it.  A frisson of amazement jolted her upright as she stared at the lamp - right through her hand!  Equal parts of jubilance and anxiety ricocheted throughout her body, then she watched with dismay as the vapory quality of her hand solidified once more. 
Was it even real?  Am I so exhausted I only imagined I saw through my hand? 

That last burst of energy cost her.  She had none in reserve and now her body and mind both ceased to cooperate.  As her thought processes shut down and she gave in to overwhelming lethargy, her last conscious thought was, I'm sorry, Reed.  I tried.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The crowing of a rooster sifted into her dreams.  Awake instantly, she sat up and scanned the room for changes, having to squint until her eyes adjusted to the gloominess.  Even before she could focus, she felt the very atmosphere was different.  Bustling sounds of busy people, the clang of metal, and an occasional burst of laughter filtered through heavy draperies on the windows.  And, she was sitting on a perfectly made bed.  The heavy, satin brocade counterpane held no resemblance to her cheerful comforter, and a mass of white gauze hung above her.  In her state of euphoria she didn't notice the shadowy outline of the housekeeper standing quietly in a dark corner of the bedroom.

I've done it!  Oh, thank you, God!  I've done it!

"REED!  Reed, I'm here!" she screamed as she hit the floor at a run.  She charged into the hallway, throwing open doors and calling his name into each room.  She nearly knocked a young black girl down when the servant emerged from a room down the hall.

"Where is he?  Where's Reed?" she questioned.  Her hands grabbed the girl's shoulders and gave her a little shake.

A great deal of white surrounded the dark brown irises of the girl's eyes.  It took another shake from Elise to elicit a response; even then it was only a slow motion movement pointing in the general vicinity of the stairway.  Elise clapped the poor girl in a quick bear hug, then disappeared down the stairs, leaving the open-mouthed maid behind.

She continued to chant Reed's name in a voice that echoed throughout the house, ignoring more shocked black faces as she scouted the downstairs.