Time Lost: A Time Travel Novel, page 24
Sally didn’t hesitate. “The five W’s are, who, what, when, where and why?”
“You forgot one. A big one. How.”
“I’m smart, and I’m a fast learner, Mr. Wright. Please give me a chance.”
More silence.
When Art Wright spoke, he sounded doubtful. “Well, people do know who you are and they’re fascinated by your story. No doubt about that. In fact, lots of people have been talking about you. That’s a plus. The paper has received more letters responding to that article about you than any other, except for the time you disappeared back in 1953. And the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Anyway, I’ll admit that you, Sally Davis, have sold many newspapers.”
“I hope they were good letters?” Sally asked modestly.
“Most of them. You know how people are. A third like you, a third hate you, and the others don’t give a damn—excuse my mouth, or don’t excuse it. The point is, if you can write, even a little, you may have just given me a good idea. Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You write me two articles, you choose the subjects, no more than five-hundred words, and then you bring them to me. We’ll see what you’ve got. If they show promise, I’ll give you a column. If they don’t, you’re out. As you said, people know you, and I think they’ll read a column by you, if you can write. Make the subjects provocative. You figure it out. How’s that sound?”
Sally shot up from her chair, feeling tall with hope. “Yes, Mr. Wright. Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”
“And if I take you on, Sally Davis, you won’t work for nothing. As Samuel Johnson said, ‘No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money.’ It won’t be a fortune, mind you, but, for a woman, it won’t be so bad either.”
Sally was giddy, feeling drunk. “Thank you, Mr. Wright. Thank you so much. I won’t let you down. I promise.”
“Hey, wait a minute. On second thought, make one of your articles about UFOs. Those always sell and they’re big right now. People don’t much believe in them, but they always read about them, and we get a lot of letters. Boy, oh boy, do we get letters, and subscribers love reading them, and then they respond. Everybody has a damn opinion about aliens and flying saucers. So, yeah, write a UFO article. Use your imagination, and it doesn’t matter if it’s ‘way out there,’ pun intended.”
Then, as an afterthought, Art lowered his voice and asked, “Do you know anything about UFOs, Sally?”
CHAPTER 51
That same night, before dinner, and just as Sally was completing her article about UFOs, her father knocked on her bedroom door.
“Sally, there’s a man downstairs. He wants to talk to you.”
Sally glanced up from her Royal typewriter. “A man? What man?”
“He says his name is Mike Hansel.”
“I don’t know a Mike Hansel.”
“He says you have his coat from the other night at the accident.”
Sally straighten up in recognition. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do have his coat. Just a minute. I’ll be right there.”
When Sally entered the living room, Mike Hansel rose from the sofa with a shy smile. He didn’t fit her recollection of him, not that she’d remembered all that much. He wasn’t so tall, or so handsome, but his bluish-gray eyes held intelligence, his Roman nose added character, and there was a comfortable-in-his-own skin quality that Sally found instantly attractive.
“Hello, again,” Mike said, with a gentle courtesy. “I hope you’re well?”
Sally moved toward him, as her father stepped toward the gleaming fireplace, puffing on his pipe.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. I’m so sorry about your coat,” Sally said. “I couldn’t remember your name. I hoped you’d come by.”
Mike had a good, athletic build, a flattop haircut, and he was a bit bowlegged, which she found endearing.
“Well, I was going to stop by the hospital, but they said you weren’t up to seeing visitors… So…” He lifted a hand in finality.
Sally said, “I would have seen you. You were the first person I saw after the accident, and you helped me. I would have told them to let you in. And you gave me your coat. That was so thoughtful. I was very cold and didn’t even know it. I’m so sorry, what is your name?”
“Mike Hansel.”
Sally thumped her forehead with her palm. “Yes, of course. I remember now. Well, Dad just told me a minute ago. I guess I’m still a little scatter-brained.”
“I can imagine,” Mike said. “You’ve been through a lot. I read the article in the paper about what happened. That was really something. No wonder you’re mixed up…. No, I don’t mean mixed up exactly,” Mike said, struggling to recover. “What I mean is, there was an accident and…”
Sally laughed a little, breaking in. “… Mike, you’re right. I’m mixed up, but I’m getting better. I’m much better, and maybe now I’m not so mixed up.”
Sally’s mother, Ruby, entered, carrying a plate of freshly baked oatmeal cookies.
“Hello, Mr. Hansel. My husband said you were here. I’m Sally’s mother, and I’ve just taken these cookies from the oven, so you just sit yourself down and have some.”
Mike’s shy smile reappeared, and Sally liked it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Mason, but I don’t want to be any trouble or anything,” Mike said. He glanced at his watch. “It must be near to your dinner time.”
Sally noticed a kindness and respect in him and, after all she’d been through, she found them relaxing.
“Don’t you fret about that, Mr. Hansel,” Ruby said. “Cookies won’t ruin anyone’s appetite. They never have, and they never will. I also have some freshly made coffee. Sally, come and help with the cups and saucers.”
A few minutes later, Sally and her mother were on the sofa, Mike was in an armchair, and Sally’s father, Herman, rocked in a chair by the fire. They munched cookies and reached for their cups of hot coffee.
“What business are you in, Mike?” Herman asked.
“I own my own accounting firm, sir. I know it doesn’t sound so exciting, but I enjoy the work and I have clients as far away as Chicago.”
Sally held her coffee cup to her lips. “I think it sounds exciting. To own your own business like that, and it’s a good thing to have a steady, successful profession.”
Mike smiled at Sally with gratitude. “Well, I think so, and, as I said, I like the work.”
“And do you have a family?” Ruby asked, as she blew the steam from her coffee cup.
Mike took another bite of his cookie. “These are very good, Mrs. Davis. Really, these are the best oatmeal cookies I’ve ever eaten, and I love the walnuts and raisins.”
Ruby beamed at him. “They’re Sally’s favorite cookies, too, aren’t they Sally?” she asked, turning her encouraging eyes on her daughter. It was obvious to Sally that her mother approved of Mike, and she’d slipped into her match-making mode.
“Yes, Mom. They’re very good.”
Herman spoke up. “So, do you have a family, Mike?”
Mike softened his voice. “I’m a widower.”
The room fell silent.
“I’m so sorry,” Sally said.
“Thank you, Sally. Marsha passed away a little over a year ago. It happened rather suddenly. An invasive infection, the doctors said. Sepsis.”
“My heavens, I’m so sorry to hear it, Mr. Hansel,” Ruby said. “It must have been so difficult for you.”
“I have a good family and friends, and they helped me through it.”
“And do you have any children?” Herman asked, observing that Sally kept her eyes on Mike, studying him.
Mike nodded, his mood lifting. “Yes, I do. I have two boys, and they keep me hopping.”
“What are their names?” Sally asked.
“The older boy is Albert, but we call him Bert. He loves to draw and play with colors. You give him a pencil and paper and he’s good for an hour or two. I think he’s going to be a famous painter someday. My other boy is Hank. He just likes to play ball out in the backyard, and he wants to be a pitcher for the Cincinnati Reds.”
Sally’s mind shifted, an old memory resurfacing. “Mr. Hansel…”
“Please, just call me Mike. Even my clients call me Mike.”
Sally glanced away, an eerie feeling rising. “Mike… Your son, Bert. How old is he?”
“Bert’s six years old now. Yes, he turned six in late September.”
Sally’s mind went to work, calculating the years. If Bert was born in 1949, then in 2023, he would be seventy-four years old. Sally’s eyes moved left and right. Was it possible? How old was Bert when she’d met him in 2023? She strained her brain to recall. Seventy-four. Bert was seventy-four.
Mrs. Davis looked at Sally with concern. “Is something wrong, Sally?”
“Have I said something wrong?” Mike asked.
Sally snapped out of it and her eyes connected with Mike’s. “Mike… Can I see Bert?”
Mr. and Mrs. Davis traded a puzzled glance.
Mike smiled curiously. “Well… yes, of course, Sally. If you want to.”
Sally rose. “Can I see him now? I mean, would that be all right?”
They all stared at Sally.
Mike slowly stood up. “… Yes, sure. The boys are with the babysitter, but sure, if you want to see Bert, we can go.”
Ruby and Herman Davis pushed to their feet. “But what about dinner, Sally?” Ruby asked. “It’s almost ready. Mr. Hansel, why don’t you stay? There’s plenty, and your coat’s in the laundry room. I cleaned it and brushed it.”
Mike was conflicted. He wanted to be alone with Sally, but he didn’t want to be rude.
“I’ll get your coat, Mike, and be right back,” Sally said, starting off. “Mom, I’m sorry. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I just have to see Bert.”
After Sally withdrew, Mr. and Mrs. Davis and Mike Hansel stood awkwardly, staring down at the carpet.
Ruby Davis finally broke the silence. “Sally always did love kids… and, well, she missed her own kids so much.”
In Mike’s car, traveling toward his house, Mike glanced at Sally, his smile warm with invitation. “I was thinking, Sally. After you see Bert, would you like to go out for dinner?”
Sally wanted to rush back home and finish her articles for Mr. Wright, but she also wanted to have dinner with Mike. His energy was soft, his manner was easy, and she needed an escape from everything.
“Yes, Mike, I’d like that.”
“Is Italian, okay? My mother was Italian.”
“I love Italian,” Sally said, rolling down the window to stare up at the stars. “It’s a beautiful night. So many stars.”
“We can take a walk after dinner, if you’d like.”
Sally looked at him, happiness rising. “It’s a good life, isn’t it?”
Mike glanced at her with a new pleasure. “Yes, Sally, despite all the trials we go through, I believe that life is good.”
“Thank you for lending me your coat.”
He sat up a little taller and his smile widened.
Sally returned her gaze to the night sky. “Isn’t life a great big mystery, Mike? I wonder how I’m going to change the future.”
EPILOGUE
January 2024
Kara Gonne and Ayita Wells occupied adjacent seats aboard the Gulfstream G650, soaring through the skies at twenty-five thousand feet. They were only forty minutes from landing at DuPage Airport in Chicago.
“I’m nervous,” Ayita said.
“You, nervous? The calmest person I know, nervous?” Kara asked.
“It’s a first, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s a first all right,” Kara said. “Sally Mason has taken us all on a lot of firsts. Poor Morgan. Stuck in Istanbul.”
Ayita glanced over. “I thought you said he was in Africa.”
Kara grinned and winked. “Right. But he could also be in Cuba, or Taiwan.”
Ayita shook her head and eased back in her seat. “You people, with all your secrets.”
“You people? What about the secret of Sally Anne Hansel? Isn’t that one of your secrets, too?”
Ayita closed her eyes. “Okay, so we’ve watched the world go upside down.”
“And right itself again, Ayita, although it ain’t the same right side up. It’s hard to believe that we were there, only last month, when Sally Mason vanished in that 1950s Chevy in New Mexico.”
“I won’t forget any of it. Ever. And maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
“Like you were going to stay home and not see Sally?”
“I keep seeing her car disappear. I have flashbacks of you and me running back inside that hangar to boot up your laptop and key-in her name.”
Kara took a sip from her bottle of Coca-Cola. “It was as if some Harry Potter wizard waved a magic wand and—poof—we were living in a different world, and I guess we still are.”
Ayita sat up. “As StrallVoss predicted, I felt it.”
Kara shot her a curious glance. “You never said. Felt what?”
“Right after the car vanished, I felt a jerk, a glitch, or whatever you want to call it. It was only for seconds, but I felt it, inside.”
“A glitch?” Kara asked.
“Yes, a glitch is the best way I can say it. A glitch, as in an unexpected snag in a system that can lead to unexpected outcomes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before now? We’re about to see Sally.”
Ayita shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. I needed to meditate on it. Think about it.”
“So what are you saying?”
Ayita looked directly into Kara’s eyes. “Are you aware of the parallel universes theory?”
“I’m not a physicist or a philosopher, but of course, I know what that is. It has something to do with the possibility that the universe contains planets and galaxies similar to our own that may form a grand multiverse.”
“Yes,” Ayita said. “Parallel universes theory basically says that space is so big that it’s probable that somewhere else out there, there are other planets exactly like Earth, and on some of those planets, the events that play out would be virtually identical to those on our own Earth, but there could be slight differences.”
“Well, Ayita, I’m a practical, here-and-now kind of girl. I like things I can touch. I like facts, not theories.”
Ayita considered that. “You saw Sally Mason vanish, Kara. That wasn’t theory, nor was her time travel experience. Did you feel it? The shift? The glitch?”
“No, but then I’m not psychic like you. Anyway, I was too anxious to get to my computer to see if Sally had survived her trip back in time.”
Ayita tilted her head, a little smile forming. “You say you’re a practical, here-and-now kind of girl, but here we are living in a different world than the one we were living in only two months ago.”
Kara pursued the thought, staring ahead. “Yes, I know, and I’ve had to acknowledge that with a lot of sleepless nights and not a few martinis. I’ve had to twist my brain around it, and I’m still not sure I have. Maybe when I see Sally again, things will just fall into place.”
Ayita kept her eyes on Kara. “When we saw that Sally had survived, we knew she had changed the past, and thus, the future. And in small ways, ways we can’t even measure, her kids changed things, too, and then their kids, and so on.”
Kara drained the last of her soda, placed the empty bottle in the seat cup holder, and turned to stare out her window, into the darkness beyond. “After you went home, Morgan and I talked about it for hours. He drank too much single malt scotch and I smoked a half pack of cigarettes. We didn’t sleep that night. We’re much the same, Morgan and I, and we didn’t want to accept any of it. Too much fantasy or science fiction for us. In his somewhat inebriated state, Morgan even suggested that maybe StrallVoss and his commanders created the Earth billions of years ago, and that’s how they can manipulate it. I didn’t go there.”
“That’s even a bit too far-out there for me, Kara.”
Kara readjusted her seat to the upright position and turned to Ayita, her eyes narrowed. “You knew Morgan was hoping Sally would die in the accident, right? In his view, it would have been for the best. It would have restored the course of events to their natural progression before Sally was propelled into the future. He didn’t want to send Sally back, scared that it could significantly alter the world to the point of unrecognition. Morgan even thought there was the possibility that the world could be jeopardized if she were sent back.”
Ayita lifted an eyebrow, processing Kara’s words. “Well, I was thrilled to read that Sally didn’t die, she married again, had another child, and helped raise her first two kids. Her son, Don, had a happy marriage and became an engineer. Her daughter, Mary, by all accounts, also lived a happy life.”
Kara nodded. “Yes. And so Sally did alter the world and she had one helluva career doing it,” Kara said.
“And the world is still here, so Morgan must be pleased at the outcome,” Ayita said.
Kara barked out a laugh. “Morgan pleased? No. Never. The last time we talked he was still worried, and he wants me to call him as soon as we leave Sally’s place.”
Ayita smiled. “When you called, how did Sally sound?”
“Her voice sounded youthful and happy. She said she seldom thinks about what happened all those years ago. And she emphasized that she’d kept the whole thing a secret.”
Ayita grew circumspect. “You didn’t want to send her back either, did you, Kara?”
Kara stared ahead. “No.”
“Then why did you let her go?”
“You won’t believe it.”
“Try me.”
Kara looked at Ayita candidly. “I was afraid that if she stayed, she would have slowly died of a broken heart. So I voted with you, and it was two against one. I chose the one over the many. Who would have ever believed it?”
Ayita sought to change the subject. “Did you and Morgan ever think of getting married?”
Kara threw up her hands. “Oh, God, of course not. We had a fling once. ‘Just one of those things,’ as the song goes. It was fun, but there was nothing to it. We both like our work too much, and our freedom. Relationships are complicated and messy.”
