Mirror, The (31 page)

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"I'm going where I don't have to listen to your dad talk about the 'plight of the Negro' or 'discretion' or anything else that pisses me off. I'm not going back to that table, Steve. I'm not."

"I'm not asking you to," Steve said. "I'm just asking you to calm down."

Ginny put her hands on her hips.

"Calm down? You mean like you? You weren't much help back there. I could have used a helping hand instead of a potted plant. Do you agree with your dad? Do you think I should 'exercise discretion' in situations like that?"

Steve put his hands on her shoulders.

"No. I don't think you should exercise discretion. I think you should do what you believe is right. I support that stuff too. So does my dad. He just has a different way of expressing himself."

"Well, I don't like it," Ginny said. "I don't like any of it."

Steve pulled her in closer.

"I don't expect you to like it. I'm not dating you because you agree with my dad. I'm dating you because you don't. You have a mind of your own," Steve said. He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I find that very appealing."

Ginny looked at him with angry eyes but couldn't maintain the glare. Like her people-pleasing sister, she couldn't hold grudges for long – particularly against males who said the right things at the right time.

"Then why didn't you speak up? If you support me, then why didn't you say so? At the very least you would have given your mom and sister someone new to stare at."

Steve pulled back and looked away.

"I didn't because I have problems with the picture too," he said. "I don't give a crap about the march, but I do give a crap about seeing you with another guy."

Ginny sighed and shook her head.

"He's just a friend, Steve. James is just a friend, a friend who happens to have a pretty big stake in things like fair housing and civil rights."

"He's just a friend, huh?"

"Yes. He's just a friend."

"Fair enough. That's good enough for me."

Ginny looked at Steve's face and saw that he meant it, but she was ticked that he felt obliged to even ask the question. She didn't know what to make of the emotions swirling through her system, but she did know she didn't like them. She didn't like them at all.

"I don't want go back to the restaurant, Steve."

"You don't have to," he said. "If you want to go eat somewhere else, I'll take you there."

Ginny shook her head again.

"No. I'm not hungry now."

"Are you sure?"

She grabbed his hand and met his gaze.

"I'm positive. Just take me back to your car. Just take me home."

CHAPTER 53: GINNY

Seattle, Washington
–
Thursday, July 16, 1964

Sitting at a bar with Katie and Virginia in the basement family room of the Jorgenson house, Ginny gazed at a large television and watched in awe. She had gotten accustomed to watching live events in black-and-white, but not events like this. She pivoted on her stool for a better look and watched a gray-haired man with seriously thick glasses make history in real time.

"I would remind you that extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And let me remind you also that moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue."

"What do you think of Goldwater?" Ginny asked.

"I don't care for his views, but I like his style," Virginia said. "He speaks plainly, which is more than I can say for most in Washington these days."

"Do you think he'll win?"

Virginia laughed.

"That's quite a question coming from someone who knows the outcome of this election."

Ginny blushed.

"I thought I'd ask anyway. I don't know as much as you think I do, but I do know that."

Ginny kept her voice down. She didn't want Joe Jorgenson, sitting in an easy chair near the TV at the other end of the room, to know that his man Barry was going down to defeat.

Virginia sipped ice tea from a tall glass.

"Don't sell yourself short, dear. You're sitting on knowledge that many would kill for."

"Do you mean bettors?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, I mean bettors. I also mean doctors, scientists, investors, and particularly politicians. Whatever you do with that knowledge of yours, be very careful."

"My dad wasn't careful, was he?"

Virginia smiled wistfully.

"He took liberties, Ginny. He used his knowledge to win three large sports bets," Virginia said. "For the most part, though, he was responsible. He kept his knowledge to himself, despite what must have been a great temptation to do otherwise. He knew we would go to war with Japan and Germany and knew that Tom would die in that war, but he said nothing. He knew it wasn't his place to play God."

"I suppose you have a lot of questions for us – about the world, I mean," Ginny said.

Virginia started to say something but stopped when Joe got out of his chair, turned off the TV, and walked to the back of the room.

"So much for speeches," Joe said as he approached the bar.

"Did Senator Goldwater not meet your expectations, dear?" Virginia asked.

"He did fine by me, but I don't think he helped himself tonight. I saw a lot of sour mugs in that convention hall. Barry's going need every one of them to win."

Joe looked at Ginny.

"How about you? Are you following much of this?"

"I'm afraid not, sir," Ginny said. "I'd rather listen to cereal snap, crackle, and pop than listen to politicians make promises."

Joe laughed.

"I feel that way too. How about you, Katie? Are you following all the snaps and crackles?"

Katie shook her head.

"No," she said. "I'm like Ginny. I find politics pretty boring."

What a crock, Ginny thought, as she laughed to herself. She knew that Katie found the presidential race and politics in general anything but boring. Katie went through the
Sun
every morning with a pen and marked political articles she wanted to read more than once.

"You're not alone. A lot of folks have turned away from politics in the past year," Joe said. "I suppose that's to be expected when you go from Jack Kennedy to a miscreant like Johnson."

Joe grabbed a potato chip out of a bowl.

"Well, I'd better get back to fixing those cabinets. You girls have fun."

"See you later," Ginny said.

Ginny watched her great-grandfather walk away from the bar toward the base of the stairs. When he turned the corner and disappeared, she returned her attention to Virginia.

"Were you going to say something?"

"Indeed I was," Virginia said. "I was about to respond to your comment about questions. As it turns out, I do have a lot of questions for you – more than you can possibly imagine."

"Then why haven't you asked?"

"I haven't asked the questions, Ginny, because I'm not sure I want the answers. One of the benefits of ignorance is being able to move blissfully from one day to the next. I'm not sure what I would do if I had prior knowledge of a dreadful event."

"Oh."

"That doesn't mean I'm not curious. As a newswoman, I trade on curiosity," Virginia said. "Are there some things that you can tell me without getting too specific?"

Ginny glanced at Katie and awaited the sign. She knew there was a lot she could say without disrupting any lives, but she wanted to get her sister's OK before proceeding. She knew as well as anyone that she was playing with fire. When she saw Katie nod, she returned to Virginia.

"There are, Nana. There is one thing in particular you should probably know about. It's been nagging at Katie and me for several weeks."

"What's that?"

"The war."

"What war?"

"There's going to be a war in Vietnam," Ginny said. "It's going to kill a lot of people."

Virginia stared at Ginny with incredulous eyes.

"A war in Vietnam? Really? I know we have advisors there, but advisors are not armies."

"That's going to change," Ginny said. "Something is going to happen this year that changes everything. I don't remember exactly what. I just know it's going to happen – and happen soon."

Ginny looked to Katie for backup.

"She's right," Katie said. "If I remember right from my history classes, a Navy ship will be attacked. Then we're going to start sending soldiers over there – thousands of them."

Ginny watched Virginia carefully and saw that the revelation had already started to sink in. Virginia turned away from the twins and stared blankly at the back of the room.

"How long will this war go on?"

"It's going to last several years," Katie said.

"Several years?" Virginia asked.

She turned to face the girls.

Ginny and Katie both nodded.

"I know it's not my place to say this, Nana, but keep a close eye on Rick," Ginny said. "You don't want him signing up for this war – not now, not ever."

Virginia sighed.

"I know he plans to go to college straight out of high school. He wants to be a teacher."

Ginny put her hand on Virginia's forearm and stared at her hard.

"I think that's a good plan," Ginny said. "I think that's a
really
good plan."

Virginia stiffened upon hearing the words and then turned away when her eyes began to moisten. She took a moment to no doubt think about the priceless advice Ginny had bestowed and perhaps ponder her own responsibilities as a parent and a patriot. She reached for a tissue in a box at the end of the bar, dabbed at her eyes, and offered Ginny a sad smile.

"You don't need to say more, dear. I get the message," Virginia said. She took a breath. "Thank you for your candor. I will encourage Rick to follow his dream."

Ginny knew she had probably crossed a line, but she felt good about it. She knew that Rick Jorgenson, Version 1, had attended college, received a deferment, and gone on to teach in a small town in Oregon. If making sure that Version 2 did the same, then so be it. She felt good knowing that Virginia Jorgenson would not have to bury a son as well as a fiancé.

When Nana finished drying her eyes, she smiled and looked at the twins like a mother might look at her daughters. She had clearly become attached to the tenants who were far more than a pair of nineteen-year-olds who paid their rent on time.

"Are there other glimpses of the future you can share?" Virginia asked. "Are there things I can look forward to?"

Ginny glanced again at Katie and sought her approval. She got it in the form of a smile.

"There are a lot of things," Ginny said. "In fact, most of what's coming is good. At least I think it's good. Do you know much about computers?"

"Do you mean those monstrosities with the spinning wheels and the flashing lights?"

Ginny laughed.

"Yeah. That's what I mean. They're going to get better and faster and smaller. In twenty or thirty years, they'll be a part of everything we do."

"What do you mean?"

Ginny pondered the question for a moment and considered how best to answer it. Then she saw an archaic communications device at the end of the bar and returned to her hostess.

"You see that phone?"

"Of course," Virginia said.

"That phone will someday fit in the palm of my hand. I will be able to call anyone in the world by pressing a few buttons. I'll also be able to watch TV and read the news on that same phone. The only thing it won't be able to do is fry an egg."

Katie laughed.

"That's astonishing," Virginia said.

"There's more too. There will be cures – or at least successful treatments – for a lot of the diseases that are killing people now. A cancer diagnosis won't be a death sentence."

"What else?"

Ginny paused again before answering. She knew there was a lot she could tell Virginia, but she also knew that this was a time to be selective.

"I know something I can tell you."

"What's that?"

"We're going to the moon! That's going to happen in a few years. Someone named Neil Armstrong is going to walk on the moon. So are a few other guys."

"So President Kennedy's dream will be fulfilled, after all."

"It will. Then we're going to build space shuttles and a space station and telescopes and a few other things I can't remember now."

"It sounds like we're headed for a technological renaissance."

"We are," Ginny said. "There are a lot of cool things coming."

Virginia looked at Ginny with adoring eyes.

"The future sounds exciting, Ginny, but there is still one thing I don't understand."

"What's that?"

"How are you able to come back to this time and not affect a future that has already taken place? You both have already had quite an impact on people here."

"I know," Ginny said. "That's why we're trying our best to leave things alone. We don't want to alter the past in any meaningful way."

"I know you don't, but you already have."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Let me show you."

Virginia stepped away from the bar and walked to the other end of the room, where a stack of folded newspapers sat in a metal rack. She went through a few of the papers, pulled one out, and walked back to the bar. She sat on her stool and flipped the paper open to the front page.

"Don't think for a minute I missed this," Virginia said.

The twins laughed.

"I was hoping it had slipped your attention," Ginny said. "I've gotten quite a few comments about that picture, not all of them good."

Virginia smiled.

"I'm not passing judgment, dear. I think it's a fine photo. It shows your passion for a very good cause," she said. "What interests me, however, is not what you're doing in that picture but rather how you managed to get in it in the first place."

"I don't understand."

"You were born in 2001, Ginny. This photo was taken on Saturday. I have to assume that on the day you were born, there was a copy of this issue in several libraries and archives that didn't feature a lovely young rabble-rouser on the front page."