The Christmas Eve Letter: A Time Travel Novel (34 page)

“Am I disturbing you?”

“Of course not.  How could you ever?  It is always so pleasant to see you.”  Evelyn patted a space next to her.  “Come and sit with me.”

After Eve sat down, Evelyn reached for her hand.  “How lovely it is to have you as my sister, Eve.  I so wanted a sister when I was a little girl.  I scolded Mommy for not giving me one.  But then Clayton is the best brother any girl could ask for, isn’t he?”

Eve smiled.  “Yes, he is.  I like him very much.”

“And he thinks the world of you.”

Evelyn noticed Eve’s eyes looked dull and tired.

“Are you feeling well, Eve?” Evelyn asked.

“Yes, I am well,” Eve said, not looking directly at her.  “I’m just a little tired.”

“Is Detective Sergeant Gantly improving?” Evelyn asked.

Eve shook her head.  “No, I’m afraid not.”

“What a pity,” Evelyn said.  “From all accounts I heard he was very brave.”

Eve wanted to change the subject so she pointed to Evelyn’s book.  “How do you like the book?”

“Allister bought it for me.  It’s Mark Twain’s latest.  It’s very amusing, but then Mr. Twain is always amusing, is he not?  I like it that Huckleberry is a bit of a rascal.”

Evelyn noticed Eve’s serious expression.  “Eve, what is it?  You look so dispirited.”

Eve’s forehead knotted into a frown.  “Evelyn, two days ago I started to ask you something but then Allister came in and I didn’t finish.”

“Yes, I remember.  You said it had something to do with a lantern.”

“Not a lantern, Evelyn,
the
lantern you used the night you and Allister met.  The lantern you used the night of Allister’s carriage accident during that snowstorm back in February.”

Evelyn’s head tilted to one side as she thought.  “Oh, yes.  I had grabbed the lantern from the rear axil of a delivery wagon that had stopped nearby.”

Eve leveled her eyes on her.  “Do you know where that lantern is?”

Evelyn stared, puzzled.  “Why, Eve?  It was just a lantern.”

“It’s very important, Evelyn.”

“I am sure Allister could find you another one, Eve.”

“No, not another.  It has to be that one.”

“I do not understand, Eve.  What is the matter?  You look so very serious.  Are you sure you feel well?”

Eve sighed and tried again.  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.  Did you keep the lantern, Evelyn?”

Eve held her breath as she waited for Evelyn’s answer.

“I think I did.  I had it with me when I was helping Allister into a cab.”  Evelyn played with the ends of her hair as she thought.  She lit up, pleased.  “I did not give the lantern back because I was so concerned about Allister.  I simply forgot.  Yes!  I remember now that in the cab, Allister pointed at it and said when he saw the lantern’s light, and my face bathed in its light, he thought I was an angel.  Later, of course, he admitted that he fell in love with me right there and then.  He told me he would always be in love with me, and nothing could ever separate us.”

“Where is the lantern, Evelyn?” Eve said, directly.  “I’ve got to find it.”

Evelyn sat back into the pillows, studying Eve.  “Eve…tell me.  What is this all about?”

Eve dropped her eyes for a moment and then raised them again.  “Evelyn, what I’m going to tell you, you must never tell anyone.  Promise me.”

Evelyn smiled, nervously.  “I do promise, Eve.  Of course you know I will never tell a soul.”

Eve looked away.  “Not that anyone would believe you anyway.  Evelyn, what I’m going to tell you will sound crazy, but please, don’t say anything until I have finished the entire story.”

Evelyn stared, uneasily.  “All right, Eve.  I’ll just sit here and listen.  Please continue.”

Eve stood up and inhaled a deep breath.  She paced to the window, turned and walked back to the end of the bed.

Eve told the story, beginning from when she first entered
The Time Past Antique Shop
in the 21st century.  She told it carefully and concisely, though highly sensitive to the startled reactions on Evelyn’s face, as it moved from polite serenity to surprise and, finally, to worry and anxiety. 

After Eve had finished, Evelyn sat rigid in a bewildered silence, staring into the middle distance, not blinking and hardly breathing.

Eve faced her, her arms wrapped tightly about her chest.  She was shivering, and the echo of her own fantastic and impossible words still hung in the air about them.

“So you see, Evelyn, I am hopeful that the lantern’s light that brought me here will also send me and Patrick forward.  Back to my home in the 21st century.  If Patrick doesn’t receive 21st century medicine, he will die.  And besides that, I want to go home.  It is where I belong and where I want to be.”

Evelyn lowered her eyes, staring at the white quilt pattern.  Neither spoke for long, awkward minutes.  Eve couldn’t read Evelyn’s face to see what she was thinking, so she waited, anxiously.

“Evelyn?” Eve finally asked, softly. 

When Evelyn looked at Eve, she seemed to be watching her from a great distance, as if she were staring into a dark cave or at a distant, foggy mountain. 

“I don’t know what to say, Eve,” Evelyn said, her voice low, almost a whisper.  “I just don’t have any words.  I’m so sorry.”

“But the lantern, Evelyn?  Do you have any idea where it might be?”

“The lantern must be in my mother’s house.  Yes, I’m sure it must be there.”

Eve took a hopeful step forward. 

Evelyn spoke again, her voice flat and emotionless.  “I wonder how Allister’s letter…”  She stopped, leaving the question hanging.

Eve stared into the depth of Evelyn’s eyes and she saw disquiet.  “You believe me, don’t you, Evelyn?  I mean, I know it’s a crazy, awesome story, but it’s true.  It’s all true.  Do you believe me?”

Evelyn avoided Eve’s eyes, looking toward the gas lamp that sat on a nearby table.  She watched shadows flickering on the walls.

“Do you go to séances, Eve?”

“What?  Séances?  No, of course not.”

“I went to one after my father died.  I wanted to speak to him but he didn’t come through.  He would not or could not speak, or so the medium said.  I never did get to talk to him.”

Eve slowly lowered her arms, searching for words.  “Evelyn, I don’t know how it happened, but it did happen.  Everything I told you is the truth.”

Evelyn smiled, weakly.  “I know you would not lie to me, Eve.  I know you believe something happened, a dream or something.  Perhaps you have just been working so hard or maybe you are ill.  Yes, maybe you have picked up a sickness here.  There are so many ill people who come through, or so Allister told me.  I myself saw many fantastical things when I was sick, as I told you.  Big birds that flew through the sky, and fairies and castles and awful, two-headed monsters.  And I have read stories about strange things that may happen in the future, like flying machines and projectiles that shoot out into vast space.”

Eve shrank into herself, slowly realizing that Evelyn didn’t believe her.  She either didn’t have the imagination, or she just didn’t have the capacity to grasp the truth.  Eve struggled for any sort of words that would help convince Evelyn, but she came up empty.  She’d already said everything she could think of to say.

Evelyn went on.  “Once at the theatre, I saw a magician who did all kinds of marvelous things, making things appear and disappear.  He used lanterns to make dancing shadows where a woman would appear and then disappear in a puff of smoke.  It was so entertaining, Eve.  I wish you could have seen it.”

Eve lowered her head in defeat.  “Yes, Evelyn… I wish I could have seen it too.”

The silence lengthened and Eve knew it was hopeless.  She went to plan B.  She straightened up and grinned, spreading her hands wide.  “How was I!?  Did you believe me?”

Evelyn’s bright eyes came to Eve’s.  “You mean?”

“Of course!  It was all a great big story.  A fantasy!  You thought it was all real, didn’t you, Evelyn?  I had you believing it was real, didn’t I?  Admit it.”

Evelyn laughed.  “Well, yes, some of it, anyway.  It was so wonderfully romantic, Eve.  So filled with wondrous detail about where you lived in the future and about how I was dying.  Oh, and I loved that sweet and loving letter that Allister wrote to me on Christmas Eve.  What a great imagination you have, Eve.  You should write stories.  It was so entertaining.  Brava!”  Evelyn said, clapping.  “Brava!  I was so entertained and I feel so much better because of it.”

After they finished their laugh, Eve pointed at Evelyn, dead serious, and winked with a little, wicked grin. 

“But the lantern is at your mother’s house, right?”

Evelyn laughed, shaking her head.  “Yes, dear, Eve.  It must be.  I am sure it is there unless my mother has thrown it out.  Yes, it must be there.”

Evelyn sat up with a clap of her hands, suddenly alive with a new idea.  “Oh, Eve, why don’t you get the lantern and bring it here!  Allister will be so delighted to see it again.  It will bring back so many good and loving memories.”

Eve flashed a broad, satisfied grin.  “And so I shall get it, Evelyn.  And so I shall.”

CHAPTER 30

Eve descended the stairs to the first floor and wearily strolled down the hospital corridor, past the Tubercular Ward.  The lights were out and all was quiet.  It was too late to visit Evelyn’s mother.  That would have to wait until morning.  But the very thought of it—the idea—the exciting possibility that by tomorrow morning Eve would have that lantern in her hands gave her a sudden twist of emotion that both thrilled and frightened her.

What if the lantern didn’t work this time?  Had it only been a one-time thing?  What if the lantern was the wrong one?  What if this entire experience was some kind of hallucination after all?  In the nearly seven weeks that Eve had been in 1885, she’d gradually grown accustomed to its sights, smells and customs.  She had adjusted to the dress, to the speech and to her work, which she enjoyed and felt had great value.  She had also grown fond both of Dr. Long and Dr. Eckland, who had come by twice to visit Patrick and offer assistance.  Eve and Dr. Eckland had become friends, and he had even invited her for Christmas dinner, to dine with him, his cousin and some of his close friends.  Eve was very touched by his invitation and had dared to kiss him on his willing cheek.  It had been a sweet and tender moment.

Millie had also stopped by to update Eve on the state of Miss Price’s house.  All the servants had been let go, and Millie was thankful she had found another position in a house nearby, thanks to help from the cook, Mrs. O’Brian. 

If Eve left 1885, she would miss her new friends, and she would miss the simpler lifestyle, a world without the distraction of technology, without the 24-hour news cycle, without the break-neck speed of modern living, without the neon signs and the loud mass and tangle of cars, busses, trucks and car alarms. 

Eve was bone tired.  She hadn’t slept in her own bed for three days because she couldn’t leave Patrick.  Not now.  If anything happened to him during the night—if his conditioned worsened or if the unthinkable happened and he died—she’d never forgive herself for not being there. 

She was on her way to his room when she heard children’s happy cries as she passed the Children’s Ward.  She stopped and opened the door to peek in.

Her mood instantly lifted when she saw twelve children laughing and dancing around a tall, thin evergreen tree.  Eve entered the room, where the 12 beds which occupied the back wall were now in shadow.  She stood there in the cheerful scene of children preparing for Christmas, some on crutches, some with arms bandaged, some thin as twigs.  They were all helping Dr. Long and two nurses decorate the tree with apples, tangerines, walnuts dipped in egg white, and strings of popcorn and cranberries.  Gold-foil had been shaped into miniature stars, steamships, elves, fish and birds, and they gleamed in the tree’s candlelight. 

Over the fireplace, holly was strung, its red berries glistening, and the entire room was scented with evergreen and freshly baked cookies.  Eve looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe just over her head.  Who was that for? she wondered.

On a wooden table, two pink-cheeked girls in red and white dresses were busy stirring a pudding, occasionally pausing to taste it.

Dr. Long waved her over.  “Come join the party, Eve.”

Eve smiled and pointed toward Patrick’s room.  Dr. Long nodded with understanding as Eve left the delightful party. 

Eve sat slumped beside Patrick’s bed, nodding off to sleep and then suddenly jerking awake at the slightest sound.  She often blotted his damp forehead and spoke words of comfort, even though she felt a slow, creeping dread and swelling depression, as every hour brought Patrick closer to certain death. 

Fatigue and despair filled every atom of her body and she had difficulty concentrating.  Her thoughts just kept slipping away into some dark space and she sat in a stupor of discontent.  She knew she should try to get some sleep, so she’d be rested in the morning for her visit to Mrs. Sharland, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Eve was startled to her feet when the door to Patrick’s room suddenly burst open and two men dressed in black, unbuttoned great coats, dark suits and thin ties entered heavily.  They stood staring at her, and then their cold attention turned to Patrick.

One man was tall and authoritative, with thinning hair, a bushy walrus mustache and a face bearing the harsh and ridged lines of a competitor. There was a greedy, restless motion in his eyes, which revealed a dark passion. 

When he saw Eve, his brow shot up and one eye enlarged in surprise, then curiosity, and then keen interest.  Eve sensed danger.  She could taste the metallic fear.  She felt hunted and targeted, and she instinctively took a step back.

The other man stood in a stature of command.  He was a black-bearded, round bellied, florid-faced man.  He wore a stubby, flat-topped plug hat, low over his brow.  His unbuttoned great coat was swept back, exposing the curve of his threatening big belly.

“Are you Miss Kennedy?” the taller man said in an accent Eve couldn’t place.  It was part Irish, and part something else.  To her ear, it sounded similar to a modern day Long Island accent, mixed with a heavy Irish brogue.