Tempus (25 page)

“I,” I didn’t want to say it, but I had to, “I think
another time
would be wonderful.”  I tried to sound cheery. 

“Certainly.”  He was being noble, and I appreciated the effort.  “I’ll hold you to it, though.”

I inadvertently reached up and placed my hand on one of the posts.  The glimpse hit me like a ton of bricks, stealing my breath.

 A young lady, in Victorian dress, her hair in sweeping curls—a young man dressed as finely, down on one knee, a ring in his hand.  The girl was laughing, but not in a mean way. 

The young man said “Please, Caroline, don’t tease me this way.  Say
yes
.”

The girl, Caroline, suddenly stopped.  “Yes, Michael, yes.  A thousand times
yes
!”

I watched the young man slip the ring on her finger, saw them embrace and kiss passionately.  I heard a distant voice shouting “
Caroline!  Caroline
!” 

“Here, Papa!  I’m coming!”  She slipped off the ring, handed it back and whispered “Tonight, my love.”  Then she kissed him, and ran out of the gazebo, the young man, Michael, hiding behind the ivy that was growing even then.  It was the clearest glimpse yet.

I released the post and took a deep breath.  Gabriel looked concerned.  “Are you alright?  You were staring, and your face was blank and pale.  I thought you’d gone catatonic!”  He looked sincerely worried.

For some reason, my glimpses seemed stronger near Gabriel.  In that moment, I made up my mind.  Either he was going to be the one person ever to know, and he would keep my secret, or I would swear to anyone he told that he was some kind of perverted creep.  If the latter, I would carry this burden to my grave, even if it meant losing my mind in the process.

“Gabriel, I want to tell you something not another living soul on this planet knows, but I have a question first.”

“
Anything
, if you promise that you are at least all right.”

“I’m fine.  Fine for
me
, at least.”  I could do this.  I could say it.  “My question is—can I trust you?”  I looked as deep into his eyes as I could possibly see, or imagine seeing, looking for any sign he might betray me.  I was still a stranger, and maybe, just maybe, that would make it possible for me to tell him.

“Unequivocally.”  He replied, his eyes looking back into mine with the same intensity.

I was scared, truly scared.
  Time to release the crazy
.  “I
see
things.”  I had no idea how I was going to explain this.  I squeezed my hands together, my nails digging into flesh. 
Get a grip, Jessie.

“Can you elaborate?”  He seemed more concerned than confused.

“I can, I just don’t want to.  It’s ingrained in me not to
ever
say anything.”  I struggled with how to put it into words, and tried not to tremble.  “Okay, when I was a little girl, I could sometimes touch things, and then I would see things that had to do with the thing I was touching.  Things from the past, involving the objects.  I call them ‘glimpses,’ because that’s what they are like.”  I looked into his eyes, and he didn’t seem surprised at all.  He looked relieved, and
happy
.

“So you’re not possessed then, and it’s not a tumor, not if you’ve had them for so long.  How old were you when you had the first that you can remember?”  Not a bit of doubt was in his eyes –  there was interest.

I felt such a rush of relief that tears came like a deluge, down my cheeks and off my chin.  I was sobbing with the release, and I couldn’t stop.  All those years of no one to talk to, no one to share with, no one to understand.

Gabriel’s arms came up around me, and he held on, rocking me gently, smoothing my hair with one hand.  I could hear him saying “Shhh, shhh, I’ve got you.”  I put my arms around him and hung on for dear life, as if he was the only raft in a raging flood.

Something occurred to me, and I was able to regain my composure a little.  I let go and wiped at my eyes, sniffling.  Gabriel reached in his pocket, pulled out the priceless watch, unwrapped it, and handed me the cloth. 

“No, I can’t do that.  That’s gross, I...”  He put up a hand to stop me.

“Please, it’s just an old piece of cloth.  You can’t talk properly if you can’t breathe.”

“Turn away then.”  I flapped my hand at him and he turned his head away, putting the watch back in his pocket and laughing a little.

“What?”  I asked, honking loudly.

“I was going to say I would still be able to hear you, and ask if I should plug my ears, but too late for that.”  He chuckled again and I swatted his shoulder.

“I don’t care about that as much; I just didn’t want you watching me.”  I wiped my nose and put the gross cloth in my back pocket. 

“When did your dad buy this house?”

“Tuesday.”  He responded.

“
Which
Tuesday?”  I asked.

“The Tuesday four days ago.”  He answered.

“When was the first time you ever came to this town?”  I was trying to get to something.

“Monday.”

My head started spinning.  Monday was the day I got the mirror.  Monday was the first time I saw him.  Monday was the first time he was ever here.  Could I have seen him in town?

He leaned in close and took my hand, my whole body felt charged and on fire.  I just knew at any moment, I was going to spontaneously combust.  He whispered, “Can
you
keep a secret?”  I nodded, but I couldn’t speak.  He held my hand tighter,   “I saw you, too.”

That’s when the world exploded.  Everything I knew, everything I thought I knew, meant nothing and everything all at once.  My mind couldn’t focus.  I
knew
he had seen me!  Why was he here?  How do you buy a house in a day?  No wonder he believed me!  Did his dad know?  Who was Gabriel? 
What
was Gabriel?  Was he like me?  Why was he dressed that way when I saw him?  My head was pounding, and I was frozen to the seat.

“Breathe, Jessie.  We’ll get through this.  We’re meant to get through this, I’m certain.  Do you know what this means?  The odds are astronomical, immeasurable!”  My world was exploding and he sounded excited.

“What odds?”  I managed to stammer.

“Oh, Jessie, I have so much to tell you!  And I want you to tell me everything!  These past months have been excruciating.”  His eyes lit up.  “
My father
!  I can’t wait to tell him!”

Those words sucked the world back into solid form and I jerked my hand away.  “NO! 
No
, you can’t tell your father!  He’ll think I’m crazy!  He’ll tell my dad. 
NO
!”  I jumped to my feet in a complete and total panic.  “I’ll tell my dad you’re crazy, you
promised
me!”

“No, Jessie, stop, listen.  My father will understand, just like I did, trust me.”  He was reaching for me, and I dodged his hands.

“What did you mean past
months
?”  It had taken a few moments for that to sink in.  “You said the past months have been excruciating.  What did you mean?”

“I have some things to tell you, too.  You’ll have to keep an open mind.  I think, if we tell my father everything, he might even allow me to show you.”  Gabriel’s eyes were nearly dancing.  He patted the seat beside him, and I reluctantly sat down, only because I was afraid I might pass out from hyperventilation. 
Breathe, Jessie, breathe right.

 
Show
me what?  I was so confused.  Before I told anyone else, before I left this gazebo, I had to have some answers.  “I’ll consider talking to your dad, telling him everything, but I have to get some things straight.  You have to explain some things to me.”

“Anything.  Just ask, and I’ll give you any answer I have.  But you have to answer something for me too, please.”  He reached for my hand again, and I let him take it.  “Do you believe in fate?”

That electrified tingly feeling was back.  Either that or I was just noticing it again.  “Mostly.”  Did I? 

“I believe in fate more than most people, I think.  I’ve seen it at work too many times not to.” 

He enclosed my hand tightly between both of his, and everything inside of me burst into flames, nearly stealing my breath.  It was blinding, like a bright flash of light in a dark room, and for only a second, I could feel every molecule of my skin.  When the feeling subsided, I tried to speak.

“Did you really see me that day, in the
mirror
?”  My voice was a whisper.  Until now, he could have meant he saw me in town.  I had to know.

“I did, and I knew you saw me, too.  I didn’t know what to think.  You looked surprised at first, but then you just watched me.  You were accustomed to seeing things, but I wasn’t.  Not like
that
.”  His voice sounded matter-of-fact.

“I don’t understand.”

“I thought it was a dead mirror.  Even my dad thought it was.  It was there for months, and nothing.”  He looked at me as if that should make sense, but it didn’t.  It sounded like gibberish.  “My father could explain this better; he’s the ‘professor,’ after all.”

“Did you write in my notebook?”  It was such a sudden question, with no prelude.  I had to know that, too.

He put his head down, embarrassed, and nodded.  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“
How
did you get in my house?”  I meant to sound harsh, but it came out weaker than I had intended.

“That’s part of it, part of what I need to explain.  I want to talk to you before my father, but I need my father to explain so you understand.  It’s a conundrum.”  He shrugged, his head turned down, looking up at me through his dark lashes.  He knew that look got to me, and our eyes locked.

“A conundrum, huh?”

“Indeed.  A
most
complicated one at that.”  He was gently rubbing my hand between his.  “When you first saw me, in the mirror, what did you see?”

“I saw
you
, and I thought you saw me, too.”  I narrowed my eyes slightly, wondering exactly what he asking.

“What was I wearing?  What did you think?  Where was I?”

Now I knew where he was headed.  “You were wearing period clothing, early nineteen hundreds.  It was a clothing store, I think.”  I watched to see if I was correct, and his eyes told me I was.  “Will you tell me
why
?”

“If I told you I was born in 1891, what would you say?”  He watched me closely.

“I would say you look great for your age.”  That was completely impossible; therefore, I wasn’t going to let it bother me.  So he was a little delusional, he didn’t seem dangerous, at least.

“Jessie, that is the year I was born, I swear it.  You saw me in my home time.”  He was squeezing my hands, but not too tight.  He seemed to be willing me to believe him.

I shook my head.  “That’s not possible.”

“Jessie,
please
keep your mind open.  Did you, or did you
not
see me?”  I nodded.  “What do you see when you touch things?  Do you see the future, or the past? 
Have
you ever seen the future?”  That last question sounded different, like it just now occurred to him to ask.

“I’ve never seen the future.”  I responded.  “But, the other day, I got my first glimpse of the present, from my phone.  I saw my dad.  That means I could have seen
you
in the present, too.”

He frowned.  It didn’t seem to be the answer he was hoping for.  “I’ll just have to show you, there’s no other help for it now.”

“Show me what?”  He had said that before, and I wanted to know what he meant.

“To the house then, please.  We’ll speak to my father.”

He stood, trying to get me to stand with him.  “Wait!”  I shouted.  “I don’t think I want to.”

“Jessie, I give you
all
assurances this will turn out right.  My father is a good man, and he knows—
things
.  It’s why we’re here.”

Why we’re here
.  Those words were like a bucket of cold water.  “Why you’re here?  What the
hell
does that mean?”  I hardly ever cursed, but this seemed like an appropriate time.

“Please give me, give
us
, time to explain, I beg you.”  He had both of my hands again, his eyes huge and pleading.

“You have time right now!  You better make something make sense or I am walking out of here and calling my dad and telling him to come get me!”  Something wasn’t right.  I was shaking, and tried to pull my hand away but he refused to let go.

“I swear on my life I mean you no harm.  To the contrary, maybe I—maybe
we
can help you figure out some things, help you not feel alone or confused, and help you understand what you can do.”

“I never felt alone or confused before I saw
you
!”  I snapped. 

I saw the hurt flash in his eyes.  “It wasn’t me; I didn’t choose this to happen.  I wouldn’t hurt you for
anything
.  It has to be fate; there could be no other reason.  I believe that, Jessie.”  His voice sounded frantic.  “Believe me,
please
!” 

Was that how I would have felt if he hadn’t believed me?  No, I don’t think so.  I would have buried it and pretended it never happened.  Yet I could imagine how I would have felt—if I didn’t care about protecting my own feelings, if it mattered that I was believed.  I knew the truth—that I could see things—only I wasn’t as certain about what I saw, as he seemed to be about what he knew.