Time Lost: A Time Travel Novel, page 10
Kara faced him, and her hand shot out. “Thank you, Chief.”
He took her hand and gave a firm shake. “You’ll find her, won’t you, Kara?”
Kara lowered her hand to her side and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll find her, and it’s for her good, and ours, that I do find her.”
“Do you really think so, Kara? Does she really need the government, or whoever you people are, in on this? She might do just as well or better finding her own way out there in the big bad world of 2023. She might be a whole helluva lot better if you folks just left her alone.”
“Whether you believe it or not, Chief Gosser, Sally Mason does come from 1953. I’ve done some additional research on her. In 1951 and 1952, Sally was admitted to what was then the Rosemont Hospital for bruises on her upper body and face. In those days, spousal abuse was seldom reported. It was a family matter, best kept behind closed doors. Her husband, Ronnie Mason, had a police record for drunk and disorderly. He once spent a week in jail for punching a woman and breaking her jaw. After a little more digging, I learned the woman’s name. Linda Hughes. She also attended Rosemont High and was in the same graduating class as Ronnie and Sally. And she was featured in the yearbook as a cheerleader, standing right next to Sally Anne Davis. It was a killer smile. A sexy smile.”
Chief Gosser nodded. “What’s your point, Kara? Did he have a fling with this woman when he was married?”
Kara’s voice was smooth with confidence. “After Sally disappeared in 1953, Ronnie Mason married Linda Hughes.”
Chief Gosser’s eyes held Kara’s. “Go on.”
“No doubt, Sally’s kids knew their parents were fighting, and that their father sometimes struck their mother. The kids may have witnessed some pretty ugly things. In those days, houses weren’t as big as they are today, so you could hear people talking and shouting and fighting, even if the bedroom door was closed. Can you imagine how you’d feel if you were forced to leave your kids behind? And to a violent spouse? You’re a parent, right?”
Gosser nodded. “Yep, and I love my girls more than my own life.”
“Sally Mason was fragile, Chief, even before her encounter with the UAP. She needs help emotionally and psychologically. I can find the right people to help her.”
Chief Gosser pulled on his nose, glancing back toward the mirror where Sheriff Connell still questioned Kyle Fisher.
“You’re not really with the government, are you, Kara?”
She canted her head left and grinned. “If I tell you, I have to kill you.”
“Okay… Okay. So, most of me doesn’t give a damn one way or the other about men and women from Mars. But I’m a cop, and I’ve been a cop for a lot of years, so I keep asking myself, why? What would some alien spaceship—that can no doubt travel light years, or faster, and that possesses powers far beyond what we can imagine—what would they want with Sally Anne Mason? Why transport her from 1953 to 2023? For what reason? What purpose?”
Kara’s stare was honest and sharp. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out, Chief.”
Gosser bent his head, looking at her, trying to understand.
“I have a contact,” she said.
“What do you mean, a contact?” Gosser asked.
She grinned and winked. “You’ll never be the same if I tell you.”
“So, tell me, and I’ll stay up nights sipping a good Kentucky Bourbon.”
“Okay, Chief, you asked for it. I have an extraterrestrial contact.”
Chief Gosser’s crafty eyes looked her over, searching for a joke.
Kara threw up a hand of a pledge. “Girl Scout’s honor. No joke. I’m going to ask him… my alien contact. I’m going to ask him if he knows anything about Sally Anne Mason.”
Chief Gosser stared with heavy astonishment.
CHAPTER 20
Sally didn’t want to sound stupid, but her thoughts were rambling and disjointed. How could she tell Bert August the truth? She was time’s patsy, time’s plaything, time’s experiment. Had she faced the truth of it? Yes and no. Dr. Stanley had helped, and she’d been kind, but Sally wasn’t convinced that Meg Stanley believed the spaceship story, so how could she explain it to Bert, a man she’d just met?
“Take all the time you need, Sally,” Bert said. “You tell me about your kids when you’re ready. I’ve got a beer right here in front of me and I’ve got fajitas on the way. Life’s good. So, tell me your story when you’re ready.”
Sally saw kindness in Bert’s eyes. She hadn’t seen it before, and it nearly brought tears to her eyes, but she stopped them. She’d cried enough in the last few days. She’d cried out all the grief, the fear and the loss that was in her. She’d cried out the regrets and the guilt, and the old bad thoughts. Thoughts about Ronnie. Dark thoughts about Ronnie. Was she being punished for those thoughts? Black and awful thoughts that pictured him dead, a mound of earth ready to be tossed down onto his casket by a tall, gaunt grave digger.
Sally prayed every prayer she’d ever learned, asking for forgiveness, and some she’d made up out of desperation. And then she thought of her kids—her precious kids—and she remembered a summer vacation when Ronnie had rented a cabin near Burnett Woods. Don and Mary had loved the place. They’d romped and run and played. In the evening when they’d tumbled into the cabin, they were like wild things from primitive woods.
Was there any God out there in space or were there just advanced aliens from other worlds flying all over the universe? Maybe those aliens were even advanced enough to create other worlds. Other planets.
But why her? Why had they bothered with her? Why had they snatched her from her children, whom she loved more than anything else? Why hadn’t they taken Ronnie instead? Why?
“My name’s not really August,” Bert finally said. “It’s Hansel. Bert Hansel, but I thought August sounded more artistic and poetic, so I use it for my in-person and online courses. During Covid, my daughter Ellen helped me set up Zoom classes, and it saved me from going house-crazy.”
Sally had no idea what he was talking about, but she let it go. In the last few days, she’d taken in and digested all the information she could hold. She pushed her thoughts away and smiled. “I like the name Bert August, too. And you look like an artist with that beard.”
Bert brightened. “Do you think so? Guess who came up with the name? My wife.”
“Oh, how nice, Bert. What’s her name? Where is she?”
Bert shut his eyes for a moment, as if summoning her face. “Her name was Lynn, and we were teachers over in Frankfort, not so far from here.”
“In Indiana or Kentucky?” Sally asked.
“Right here in Indiana. Frankfort’s a bigger town than Rosemont, and the high school was a good one until a few years ago, about the time I retired. I don’t know, things got lax… too lax for me. I retired at the right time, and so did Lynn.”
“And you taught art?”
“In high school I taught mostly science, but they let me teach one art class. Now, before you think the two don’t go together, I’m here to tell you that they go as well together as Lynn and me did. Think left brain and right brain. Lynnie taught English, and everybody loved her. Yes, everybody loved Lynnie. ‘Lynnie with the laughing face’ is what we called her. She didn’t mind it.”
Bert turned reflective. “Yeah, those were good days. Well… Lynnie passed away over three years ago… about three years. COVID took her.”
“I’m so sorry, Bert.”
He reached for his beer and gulped down a drink. “Do you know what, Sally? I wrote her a poem when she was in the hospital, just before she went. You should have seen her light up. ‘You, Bert Hansel, wrote me a poem?’ she asked. She was amazed. Well, you know, she was having trouble breathing. But anyway, I said, ‘Yes, ma’am, Lynnie girl, I did.’”
“Do you remember it?” Sally asked.
Bert gave her a wispy smile. “That I do, Sally. Well, I remember a verse of it. It goes like this…”
Bert licked his lips, lifted his head, and raised his voice. “He’s a dreamer, a fighter, with fire in his eyes. She’s a wanderer, a poet, seeking truth in the skies. They were like ships who met in the night, destined to roam. But when the stars aligned, they found a piece of home.”
Sally smiled. “That’s good, Bert. I really like it.”
He flicked a dismissive hand. “Nah. It’s awful, but Lynnie liked it and that’s all that mattered. And we did roam, you know. In the summers, we roamed all over the place. Route 66 out west, Europe, South America, the Caribbean… even Hawaii. Yeah, Lynnie and I roamed and had some great times.”
Molly arrived, a tall food runner beside her holding the food tray aloft. He lowered it, and Molly seized the entrees and delivered them.
“You enjoy them now,” Molly said, backing away, hands spread. “Another beer, Bert?”
“Nope, I’m driving,” he said, his eyes on Sally’s barely touched beer. “Drink up, Sally, you’re not driving.” Then he turned to Molly. “Bring her another, Molly. Though I might have to help her a little.”
After Molly left, Sally grabbed her burger and took a bite, suddenly famished. As she savored each mouthful, she realized she felt more at peace at that moment than she had at any other time since arriving in 2023. Bert’s comforting and cheerful presence relaxed her and made her hopeful. He’d been a family man, happily married. Maybe she could confide in him. Maybe he’d understand. He was educated, and he’d been a teacher, and he’d traveled.
She wished she’d gone to college and traveled. She might have been able to understand her predicament better and be a better problem solver. Could she trust Bert, even though they’d just met? She needed to trust somebody.
After Molly dropped off the second beer, Bert pointed at it. “Now, Sally, you drink some of it, so I don’t drink it. If it’s in front of me, I’ll eat it and I’ll drink it. That’s what Lynnie used to say. Go ahead now and drink the fresh one. Yours has gone flat.”
Sally obeyed. She wanted to please Bert. He wasn’t much like her father—he was more worldly and talkative—but she’d always felt safe with her dad, and here, in this whirling, loud place, she felt safe with Bert.
“How many children do you have, Bert?”
He chewed and grinned. “Three. All girls. Ellen, Jennifer, and Allison. Ellen and Jennifer went off to college, one in California and one in Massachusetts, and they got married and never came home. Unfortunately, Allison was taken from us when she was in her twenties. She wasn’t so happy in her life and in the world. God bless her. She got on drugs, and they took her.”
Sally stopped eating. “Oh, my heavens, Bert. I can’t imagine. It must have been so difficult for you and your wife.”
“It was, Sally. It broke us both up for a long time. It’s as sad as anything that can happen to a parent, to lose a daughter before her natural time. But you go on with life, Sally, and that’s what we did, not that I don’t think about Allison every day of my life.”
“I have two kids, Bert,” Sally said abruptly, without thinking. Bert’s old grief had brought her fresh grief. “I’ve just got to go see them.”
Bert put his mostly eaten fajita down, licked his fingers, then wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. He gave her a penetrating stare. “Sally, if you’re not with your kids, you must be in a lot of pain. Now, tell me why you’re not with them. Why are your children not with their mother?”
With a finger, Sally traced the thick rim of the beer mug. “Bert, something happened to me. Something I can’t explain and something that’s just crazy.”
“I’ve heard crazy before, Sally. I’ve heard it from kids I taught, from colleagues over the years, and I’ve even heard crazy from my own kids. I can handle your crazy, Sally, so go ahead and let’s talk about it. Then, who knows, maybe we can find a way for you to go get your children.”
Sally slowly lifted her eyes. “I’m a long way from home, Bert.”
“There are airplanes, Sally. There are cars.”
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Bert inclined forward. “Sally, do you have any place to go tonight? Any place to stay?”
She shook her head.
“Do you have any money?”
“No.”
Bert clapped his hands, his mind made up. “All right, then. You’ll come home with me and get a good night’s sleep.”
Sally dropped her head, staring at her plate of food.
“Don’t you worry about what you’re worrying about. I’m a father, Sally, and a grandpa. I don’t know where your father or your husband are, but for now, we won’t worry about it. I’ve got a four-bedroom house with two full baths. You’ll have your own upstairs room and bathroom. The house was built in 1935, but Lynnie and I bought it in 1988, and it has shutters and a new roof that cost me a fortune, beautiful trees, a large living room with a fireplace and a breakfast sunroom. And the backyard has plenty of privacy, with a nice little stone path that Lynnie and I built together. Do I sound like a real estate agent?”
Sally smiled, despite her nerves.
“You’ve got heartache, Sally. I can see that plain as day. So, we’ll go home. You can soak in the tub, and then climb into that queen-size bed, and sleep as long as you like. I won’t bother you till morning. Then I’ll make us both pancakes, bacon, and coffee. What do you say?”
Sally raised her head, and a quivering smile came and went. “Why are you being so kind to me, Bert?”
His eyes warmed on her. “Because we’ve all been in a bad way, Sally, and needed help. What good are we if we can’t help someone when they need us? I can see you’re not on drugs or out to rob anybody. I can see it in the way you talk.”
Their eyes met.
“By the way, what’s your full name?”
“Sally Mason.”
“All right, Sally Mason. I’m a lonely old man whose wife is gone and whose kids have moved away. Despite being a scientist and a painter, I’m not a loner. I like people. And anyway, you need a friend right now, and I can be a good friend. It’s that simple. Don’t complicate what’s not complicated. There are enough complications in the world.”
Sally gave him a half smile. “Thank you, Bert.”
“It’s nothing. Now, drink your beer, and let’s finish up here and go home.”
When their plates were empty, and Bert asked for the check, Sally braced herself, ready to talk. “Bert, when you were teaching science, did you ever discuss spaceships and aliens?”
She stared nervously, trying to gauge his reaction.
He leaned his head back, examining her anew. “Spaceships and aliens?”
She nodded.
“Are you serious?”
She nodded, and there it was again, that cold gnawing in her stomach, making her feel vulnerable.
Bert folded his hands, carefully contemplating her. “I’ll tell you what, Sally. Let’s put this conversation on hold until we get home. I might need a glass of wine. I see something there in your eyes I haven’t seen before, and it’s curious, and it’s made me curious.”
CHAPTER 21
“Are you decent?” Bert called, standing outside Sally’s bedroom.
“Yes, come in,” Sally said, having just slipped into one of Lynnie’s nightgowns and robes. “I’m wearing one of your wife’s robes. I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s fine. As I told you, I kept some of Lynnie’s things in case the kids wanted them… and for me, if truth be told. I wasn’t ready to part with them,” Bert said.
Sally pinched the bathrobe at the neck as Bert poked his head in, holding up a flashlight and a woman’s olive-colored jacket. “I was thinking you might want to go for a walk at some point. I usually have to roam around a bit the first night I’m in a new place. It’s like my mind and my body need to get familiar with the space. Anyway, this jacket is warm. I’ll just put it on the chair here, along with the flashlight. You have a good sleep.”
“Thanks for everything, Bert.”
He stood in the doorway with a welcoming smile. “It’s all my pleasure. You get some rest, and we’ll talk at breakfast.”
“And I’ll make the pancakes and bacon,” Sally said. “I’m a good cook.”
Bert nodded. “I look forward to it. Goodnight, now.”
Bert was right. Though she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the soft pillow, Sally woke from a bad dream a few hours later. And then once again, she relived that terrifying night when she was ripped from one world and tossed into another.
Sally went to the bathroom, drank some water, and then paced the room, finally opening the curtains and staring out through the closed window. The sky reminded her of the sky on that night when her whole life changed.
Suddenly hungry to be in fresh air, she pulled on her shirt and slacks and shrugged into the jacket Bert had placed on the chair. She left the bedroom and descended the stairs with the help of the flashlight beam, creeping through the living and dining rooms and then into the kitchen. The digital clock on the stove read 3:05. She quietly unlocked and opened the back kitchen door and stepped out into the cold night.
The storm was gone, leaving behind clear skies, a glowing three-quarter moon, glittering stars, and a cool stillness that relaxed her. She’d been cooped up inside for too long, and even this small freedom felt wonderful. Taking deep breaths of the bracing, fresh night air was exactly what she craved.
But when she started to step off the small back patio, an unexpected anxiety stilled her. She hadn’t been outside in darkness since that night. If only she’d had the nerve to ask Bert to buy her a pack of cigarettes.
Nearly every night, after Ronnie and the kids were in bed, she’d go outside to smoke a cigarette and think her own thoughts. She could almost taste the filter and hear the click of the lighter; could almost feel the smoke filling her lungs as she inhaled the first puff. It always helped her to relax as she tilted her head and slowly exhaled the smoke, watching it fill the air above her. It helped ease the rough edges of the day.
