Karen D. Badger - Yesterday Once More (49 page)

BOOK: Karen D. Badger - Yesterday Once More
6.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Andi stirred at the sound of voices in the room. “Kale?” she asked groggily.

Kale walked over to the bed and rubbed Andi’s back. “Sweetheart, Dr. Lewis is here.”

Dr. Lewis walked over to the bed and shook Andi’s hand then he pulled up a chair and sat down. He motioned for Kale to sit as well.

“Please, sit. I have some news for you.”

He waited for Kale to sit on the arm of Andi’s chair and place his arm around Andi’s shoulder to both give and receive emotional support.

“I believe I can help your daughter.”

Andi began to weep softly.

Dr. Lewis continued. “I’ve been working for the past thirty years on a revolutionary method for restoring spinal function in a completely severed spinal cord.” He stopped speaking for a moment both to allow Kale and Andi to absorb what he had said and to prepare himself for what he had to say next.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Kale said, wiping the tears from his face.

Dr. Lewis reached into his breast pocket and retracted an envelope. “Before you thank me, you need to read this. You see, there’s a reason my first name is Jordan. I was named after my grandmother.”

Kale’s knees buckled and he slowly lowered himself to the edge of the hospital bed. “Oh, my God. Jordan,” he whispered.

Jordan smiled. “Yes, Jordan—your Jordan. She and Grandma Maggie wed in 2020. My father, Kale, was born two years later through artificial insemination, followed by my aunt Andrea a year after that.”

Kale and Andi looked at each other. They were speechless as Dr. Lewis continued.

“You see, I know about how you two helped her transcend time so she could be with Maggie.” Dr. Lewis stared off into the distance as he fought the mist that was forming in his eyes. “They were the happiest two people I have ever known in my life. Grandma Jordan lived to the ripe old age of ninety. Grandma Maggie died a year later.”

He looked back at Kale and Andi as he continued. “Thanks to you, she was not only a happy woman, but she also brought into the past all of the knowledge and talent required to advance stem cell and spinal regeneration research a century before it would otherwise have been discovered. So, as you can see, it’s her you should be thanking.”

Dr. Lewis smiled as he watched Kale and Andi attempt to compose themselves.

I can’t believe it.” Kale knelt in front of Andi. “Sweetheart, he’s Jordan’s grandson. She made it. I always felt like she had, and now, thanks to her, our baby has a chance to live a normal life.”

Kale lowered his head into Andi’s lap while he cried. Andi lowered her cheek to rest on top of his head and spoke soothingly to him.

Dr. Lewis stood and looked at the couple before him. “I can clearly see why Jordan loved you two so much. Here, she wrote this for you before she died, more than thirty years ago. My wife found it a few years ago in some old papers that were in a trunk my grandmothers owned. It was enclosed in a larger envelope that had my name on it. With it was a note to me in which she asked me to hand-deliver it to you. I didn’t expect it to be under these circumstances, but it seems appropriate. Considering what you three meant to each other, it’s only fitting that she continues to help you across time.”

Dr. Jordan Lewis handed the envelope to Andi. “I’ll check back with you later today to discuss little Jordan’s treatment.” He then smiled at the couple and left the room.

* * *

Kale and Andi walked hand in hand across the pasture toward the tall oak tree. To the right of the tree was a small cemetery where the remains of the Lewis family had been interred. Jordan, as well as both her parents, were buried there. The couple approached Jordan’s headstone and sat side by side, with their backs leaning against it. Kale pulled out the letter Dr. Lewis had given them and gingerly opened it. It was several hand-written pages long. Andi entwined her fingers with his and laid her head on his shoulder as he held it before them and began to read.

My Dearest Kale and Andi,

I don’t know how to begin except to say that I dearly love you both with all my heart. Because of your love and sacrifice, I have lived a long and prosperous life with the one person who completes me. I will be forever thankful that you came into my life. I know you compromised everything you believed in to help me realize the love of my life. For that you have my undying gratitude.

Kale—you once told me that someday I’d be happy that you were around. My dear friend, I was always happy that you were around. You are the closest thing I have ever had to a brother. Did you ever learned to comb your hair?

Kale and Andi both chuckled through their tears as Jordan teased him from beyond the grave. They continued to read.

Andi, I am so happy you came into Kale’s life. You are the main reason I felt comfortable leaving him. He needs you. You are the other half of his soul. Please take care of him.

I cannot possibly rest until I tell you how I came to be so happy. As it turned out, the final trip back was the charm.

Kale, I realize now that I took a terrible risk—I filled the old well. I wasn’t thinking. I might have created a time paradox—I might never have met you! But I did. Maybe there are parallel realities.

On the morning Maggie was supposed to die, I almost slept through my opportunity to save the love of my life. An old woman that looked strangely familiar woke me in the nick of time. At the time, I didn’t know who she was, but as I write this and see my own visage in the mirror, I can only thank you for obviously indulging me one final time.

Loving Maggie is the most important thing I have ever done in my entire life. I don’t know how I could ever live without her. She is even more beautiful in person than she was in my dreams. The first time we made love, it was so incredibly life altering. I was changed forever.

As I suspected, her death was not an accident. I knew the reports of her death in the Free Press sounded odd. An accomplished horsewoman just doesn’t fall off her horse over a cliff. You see, having arrived five months before she died, I worked my magic and made her fall in love with me. (Not that it was hard. As you know, I’m incredibly charming, wink, wink!) Being that close to her, I was able to observe the day-to-day events, and soon realized that her demise was being carefully planned and staged by Jan. Remember her? Reading about Maggie and Jan’s relationship while I was in the hospital upset me terribly. Now I know why. I knew there was something evil about that woman.

Jan made a show of running the farm and making sure I knew my place. I would catch her in the barn when she wasn’t aware I was there. She seemed to have a fascination with the saddles, especially Maggie’s. It turns out she had cut the stirrup on the right side of Maggie’s saddle so that it was barely attached. Considering horsemen mount from the left side, Maggie wouldn’t have noticed it until it was too late, until she had already mounted and was speeding across the plains. I moved Maggie’s saddle to the pile of tack that was going out for repair the next day. The last thing I wanted was for Maggie to be injured.

Unfortunately, the saddler was unable to pick up the damaged saddle on time and it was still there the morning of March 29. On that morning, Maggie decided to take her horse on her usual early morning run along the cliffs, bordering Lake Champlain. Once awakened, I immediately ran to the barn looking for Maggie and realized her horse was gone. I also realized her defective saddle was no longer in the repair pile. As fast as I could possibly move, I saddled another horse and rode after her.

I was sure I would be too late as I scanned the horizon hoping for a glimpse of her. Finally, I saw her, galloping directly toward the edge of the cliffs. I pushed my horse as hard as I could and came to within thirty feet of her when I heard a loud shot. It sounded like a rifle or shotgun. Maggie’s horse suddenly reared in fright. She stood in the saddle in an attempt to calm the animal, then the defective stirrup snapped and she began to tumble directly toward the cliff. I barely reached her in time and grabbed the back of her denim jacket.

By the way, she was wearing the jacket you sent to me. Apparently, denim in the future is much more durable, because it held without ripping. Anyway, here I was, barely hanging on to my own saddle with one hand, while holding her by the collar with the other. I swear her feet were dragging the ground. She nearly pulled me off my own horse as I half-dragged, half-carried her away from the edge of the cliff.

When we had cleared the cliffs by a good distance, I dropped her to the ground and stopped my horse. I dismounted and ran toward her. We fell into each other’s arms and cried for what seemed like an eternity and we clung to each other like there was no tomorrow. We must have knelt there for a good half hour just holding each other. The reality of what might have happened came crashing down on us.

Maggie’s horse had run off back to the barn as I knew it would, so we both mounted my horse. She wrapped her arms around me and clung so tightly, I could hardly breathe. It was the sweetest bone-crushing grip I had ever known. I never wanted her to release me. It was both the most uncomfortable, yet most wonderful ride back to the farm. Before we headed back to the farm, I directed my horse to the spot where Maggie’s mount had reared. There, on the ground, was a brightly colored bag. It was empty.

The following day, I returned to the cliff and searched around, both on the precipice and on the ground at the bottom of the cliff. I found a 10-gauge shotgun shell among the rocks—directly under the location where Maggie’s horse reared. I am convinced Jan was responsible for that gunshot. Jan would have known Maggie would be drawn to the colorful sack so oddly out of place on the snow covered plain, and planned the gunshot at the precise moment Maggie was closest to the edge.

After it was all over, I learned from the other farmhand, John, that Jan had saddled Maggie’s horse for her that morning. Obviously, she used the saddle she had tampered with. Kale, her plan would have worked if I hadn’t discovered those diaries. This was meant to be, of that I am certain.

Jan turned out to be Janneal Safford, the woman who owned the farm immediately following Maggie’s parents. As it turned out, Jan had convinced Maggie’s father to leave the farm in both Maggie’s and her name. She would assume ownership if Maggie died before she did. Jan had been planning Maggie’s death for several months. As you know, she succeeded, at least until I appeared on the scene. With me in the picture, Jan’s plan failed. Curiously enough, Jan disappeared that very evening, but not before I cornered her in the barn and kicked the shit out of her. Even though I had no real proof, I made her well aware that I knew what she had done. We never saw her again.

Oh, jumping ahead for a moment, Kale—do you remember the land records said there were several owners between Maggie’s parents and mine? Well, I needed to find a way to assure you and Andi ended up with the farm, so I convinced Maggie to hold on to it until 2071, when my parents came along, and we sold it directly to them. Let me tell you, it was very odd meeting them before I was even born. They both stared at me in the oddest way, like they thought they should know me. I wanted so much to tell them who I was, but that might have just given them both heart attacks, then I would have killed my parents before I was even born. Talk about the ultimate paradox!

Anyway, Maggie asked me how I knew she was in danger. I had no choice but to tell her about my life and my journey into the past to be by her side. Quite frankly, she thought I was insane at first. I tried to prove it to her by recounting word for word, things she had written in her diary. She immediately accused me of finding the diaries and stealing them, which I readily confessed to doing... one hundred years later. She actually made me tear the walls down in our bedroom to prove to her they were still there. She pretty much freaked out when I told her the whole story. I don’t think she totally believed me until I was able to predict historical events that occurred over the next few years, but eventually, she relented and admitted that I was such a wing-nut, I could only have come from another time. She was just too cute.

Maggie and I were married a year later, and thanks to the wonders of science, we had two children, a boy we named Kale, and a daughter named Andrea, after the two people I love with all my heart. The two of you made all of this possible for me. I will forever be in your debt and will watch over you and your loved ones for the rest of eternity. That is my promise to you.

Kale, you warned me about not creating paradoxes with my presence in the past, but as I see it, impacts of a positive nature would surely be welcome. So, as you probably know, I continued our spinal cord regeneration research. It is my sincere hope that by taking the knowledge back one hundred years, SCI healing will have advanced at a phenomenal rate. It’s the least I could do to repay the two of you, and Peter, for all you did for me.

If you’re reading this letter, then you have met our grandson, Jordan. We are so proud of him. He has known about where I came from since he was a child. In fact, our children, Kale and Andrea, as well as all six of our grandchildren know. Jordan chose to enter the field of spinal cord regeneration to follow in my footsteps. When I realized he might have the opportunity to meet you in person, I penned this letter and gave it to him for safekeeping until he had the opportunity to deliver it personally. It is my sincere hope that he carried out my wishes.

Other books

Cry of the Wolf by Dianna Hardy
Manhandled by Austin Foxxe
Cold as Ice by Carolyn Keene
Feral Magnetism by Lacey Savage
Christmas Wish by Lane, Lizzie
TheUnexpected by Rory Michaels