Time Risk: A Time Travel Novel, page 24
“Hello, Victoria,” Rachel said, lighting up. “It’s so good to see a familiar face.”
Victoria leaned over and kissed Rachel on either cheek. “Doing better?”
“Not bad, but I wish you people had penicillin.”
“I have no idea what that is, but I’ll look into it.”
“Never mind.”
It was two days later, December 12, and Rachel was sitting up in bed with a newspaper resting in her lap.
“So sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. Martial law, red tape, deadlines and…”
Rachel cut in. “… You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Pull up a chair.”
Victoria did so, positioning the chair beside the bed and sitting, dropping her purse in her lap. She pointed to the bedside table. “Who brought the pretty flowers and the cards?”
Rachel glanced over. “They’re from two Army officers. Pilots.”
“Well, la-di-dah,” Victoria said, fluttering her lashes. “Did they take you flying?”
“Almost. Didn’t get the chance. World War II got in the way.”
Victoria inhaled a little breath and released it, giving Rachel a serious once-over. “Well, Kiddo, you look better than I thought you would.”
“Thanks.”
“And thanks for having someone call me,” Victoria said. “I was worried sick about you. I hear the Japs almost finished you off.”
“It was close.”
“I had a little chat with Dr. Thompson before I came up here. He told me that Second Lieutenant Whitlock said you saved his life. No wonder he sent you a card and flowers.”
“Overly dramatic,” Rachel said, with a dismissive hand.
“Uh-uh. I don’t think so. Anyway, from our conversation a few days back, that’s what you were supposed to do, wasn’t it? You and your crazy time travel story that I believed, then didn’t believe, then I went a little crazy when the Japs attacked, exactly as you said they would. On Sunday afternoon, I opened a bottle of Old Crow Kentucky Bourbon and got tight, all by myself.”
Rachel leaned her head back against the propped-up pillow. “I hear it’s scary out there in the city, and the world.”
“Yeah, everybody’s alarmed. The air is filled with rumors, and there’s a lot of blaming going on in the military and in the press. Speaking of the press, did you read my article in today’s paper?” Victoria asked, pointing at the newspaper in Rachel’s lap.
Rachel nodded, tapping the newspaper. “Yeah, I’d just finished it when you came in, right on cue. It’s good. It’s sad. It’s moving. You’re a good writer. I felt twenty things at once as I was reading it, and all of them were like a punch in the gut.”
Victoria’s eyes said something grave. “I wish they had listened, Rachel.”
“They?”
“Lieutenant Commander Rowe for one. I went to him, you know. I told him what you told me. I did my best to convince him.”
“How could he have believed you?” Rachel said. “If I’d been wearing his uniform, I wouldn’t have believed you, either. Have you heard from him?”
“No, Rachel… he’s dead.”
Rachel sat up, feeling a grab of pain in her back and shoulder. “Dead? How?”
“He was in his office on Sunday morning, working. That building took a direct hit from a Jap bomb.”
Rachel turned her miserable gaze away. “What a damn shame. What a waste that he and all those young men and all those people had to die.”
Victoria stood and reached for David Whitlock’s card, then glanced at Rachel. “Do you mind if I have a look?”
“No, go ahead.”
Victoria opened the card and read aloud. “To Anne?” Victoria asked, raising her questioning eyes.
Rachel said, “That’s me… It was my cover name.”
Victoria nodded, read, then returned the card and stood for a time thinking about it. She sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Rachel, smiling. “You must be proud and happy… and very relieved…”
Rachel nodded. “Yeah. You have no idea.”
Victoria lifted her chin. “There’s another little item of news you might find interesting. I spoke with Eleanor Roosevelt on Saturday night. I told her all about you. I told her everything. I said I hoped she would tell her husband so he could warn the military.”
Rachel waited, eyes narrowed. “And?”
Victoria played with the golden clasp of her purse. “She didn’t tell him, of course. She listened to me very politely, and after I’d finished, she didn’t say a word for a long time. Then all she said was, ‘Victoria, I know you, and I trust you, and I beg you not to tell another soul what you have just told me.’ Of course, being the persistent and obnoxious broad of a reporter I am, I asked her why.”
Victoria rose again, her eyes focused ahead. “Mrs. Roosevelt said, ‘Because we cannot stop what is to come any more than we can stop the waves of the ocean from rolling in.’”
Victoria’s smile barely reached Rachel, and then it fell. “She said, ‘It’s not that I don’t believe you, my dear, it’s just that I believe the world must reap the fruits of its actions, both good and bad. It is the way of things, of evolution. And, anyway, Franklin would never believe me. He would make a few jokes about the idea of time travel, and then he’d mix one of his martinis and launch into a story about when he was Assistant Secretary of the Navy.’”
A stretch of silence fell between the two women, and then, restless and distracted, Victoria sat down again in the chair, putting her eyes on Rachel. “What will you do when you leave the hospital, Rachel?”
“The doctor said it will be a while, and then I’ll have to rest for weeks. After that, I’ll try to get back home.”
“To the future?”
“Yes, to the future.”
Victoria crossed her arms. “When you're released from this place, I want you to come home and stay with me. Stay for Christmas. I'll need the company. Stay for the New Year. Hell, stay as long as you like. While you’re convalescing, you can tell me all about the future.”
Rachel looked at her friend with a faint smile and shook her head slowly. “No, Victoria. I’d never put that on you. It would be too great a burden. Believe me, I know. And I guess, now that I’ve had time to think about it, I agree with Eleanor Roosevelt. We can’t stop the waves of the ocean from rolling in, and maybe we shouldn’t.”
Victoria’s face tightened with thought. “And yet, you did stop it, Rachel. You stopped one wave, anyway. You stopped one single wave when you saved David Whitlock’s life.”
Rachel arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think I stopped a wave, but maybe I changed its course.”
Victoria added, “Yes, so you changed the course of the world, Rachel. This world that was traveling down one road, heading in one direction. But then, thanks to you, the big old wide world swerved a bit. Now it’s traveling down a different road. How is it going to change the world of the future, do you think? Because even the smallest change might make for the most dramatic of changes. Who knows how many lives David Whitlock might influence or change, with just a word, or a touch, or a decision that could affect hundreds of lives?”
Rachel shrugged her good shoulder. “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that for a long time. Now that I’ve accomplished what I set out to do, I have no idea what the outcome will be in the future, and unless I can get back to 2024, I’ll never know, will I?”
Victoria lowered her arms and stood up. “I almost wish I could go with you,” Victoria said.
“And miss World War II?”
“Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll probably be leaving Hawaii soon, you know.”
Rachel nodded. “I figured. Where?”
“Probably London.” Victoria gave Rachel a searching look. “Hey, Kiddo, since you know all about the future, at least tell me how long the war will last. When will it end?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes, but just that, and only that. Nothing else.” Victoria held up a hand as if taking an oath. “And Girl Scout’s honor, I won’t tell anyone.”
Rachel closed the newspaper and set it aside as she turned Victoria’s request over in her mind. With a little sigh, she said, “Germany will surrender in May 1945. Japan later in the year.”
A strange, mask-like expression came over Victoria’s face, and she stared glazed-eyed into space for a long minute. “Damn… that’s a long time, isn’t it?”
Victoria glanced toward the exit door. “Okay… I’ve got to go interview the mayor, Lester Petrie. Oh, by the way, a woman was charged with Greg Stone’s murder.”
Rachel’s eyes opened fully. “Who is she?”
“A call girl he’d known for a while. He promised her money so she could leave the island, but then he got ugly and refused. They’d both been drinking. They both got angry and physical. She said he slapped her. She pulled a pistol from her purse and when he turned to walk away, she whacked him on the head. It was in the paper a couple of days ago.”
Rachel looked down. “I didn’t see it. I’m sorry. I liked him.”
Victoria lifted her shoulders and shook her head. “Poor Greg. That’s another waste. He was one of the best of us… reporters.”
Victoria leaned over and kissed Rachel’s forehead. “I mean it about coming to stay with me. I’d love it. Will you come when they kick you out of here?”
Rachel smiled warmly. “If you aren’t on your way to London… or wherever yet.”
“Don’t worry about that. It will take weeks for my travel arrangements to be made. I’ll have to get government clearance and find a flight off the island.”
“Then, yes, Victoria. I’ll come. Oh, and see those three packs of Lucky Strikes? I told them I don’t smoke, but they keep bringing them, so if you want them, they’re yours.”
“Not my brand, but I’ll take them.”
“And not that I’m a prude or anything, but maybe you should cut back a bit,” Rachel said.
“Do they cut back in the future?” Victoria asked.
“Yeah. Mostly.”
“Okay, so just for you, instead of smoking three packs a day, I’ll only smoke two. How’s that?”
Rachel laughed. “Awesome.”
After Victoria dropped the cigarettes into her purse, Rachel said, “By the way, what happened to your Captain Alcott?”
“He’s doing just fine. But he’ll be shipping out soon, and I’ll probably never see him again, and that’s too bad. I like him. I like him very much.”
When Victoria left, Rachel closed her eyes and thought about David Whitlock. Surviving the Pearl Harbor attack didn’t guarantee he’d make it through the war. And it would be a long war.
Her thoughts then drifted to the Temporal Beeper. Was it still hidden under a rock at the bungalow in Wahiawa? She wondered if it could send her back home. She wanted so much to get back home.
CHAPTER 49
Rachel spent the next four months recovering at Victoria’s bungalow on Diamond Head. Healing took longer than she had anticipated. Her wounds were severe, and with everyone mobilized for the war, there was no physical therapy available, and the miracle drugs of the twenty-first century were not yet in existence.
Throughout December and January, Victoria continued to work for the Honolulu Advertiser, but she was also submitting articles to the Associated Press, covering Hawaii and the military after the attack. As soon as she could get to London, she would be a full-time AP reporter. The prospect excited her, but also filled her with anxiety. The reality of covering a war, with articles syndicated in papers around the world, put her on edge. She was also worried about her brother and Captain Alcott. The Battle of Bataan and the siege of Leningrad were not going well for the Allies, and it further upset her and brought bouts of low moods and nights of drinking.
Rachel passed the time on the beach, cooked dinner for the two of them, read and listened to the radio, dreading the depressing war news. She had not returned to Wahiawa to retrieve the Time Beeper. In her weakened state, the prospect of a potentially difficult time journey made her jittery and cautious, and the longer she postponed recovering it, the more fearful she became.
Dr. Thompson had warned that her wounds and near-death encounter might produce stress, panic attacks and night sweats, and he was right. In the twenty-first century, it was called PTSS, Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome, and Rachel had a new understanding of the term, as well as compassion for those who suffered from it, be they soldiers, cops, firemen or other first responders.
On February 8, 1942, when it was time for Victoria to leave, the two women struggled to keep their smiles and good humor.
“I’ll see you again, Rachel,” Victoria said, standing outside with her suitcases, waiting for a taxi. “I know I will. Meanwhile, you have the car and the bungalow, so just make yourself at home.”
Rachel shook her head. “No, I don’t think so, Victoria. I think this is it for you and me and, as we say in the future, it really bums me out. But in a month or so, I’m going to try like hell to get back home.”
Victoria’s eyes misted up. “Why don’t you stay? Why don’t you stay and be the sister I never had? And I’ll be the sister you lost. Stay here and get strong and healthy, and swim in the ocean and meet some handsome sailor and write to me. Stay, Rachel. Please stay. I need you here in this world.”
Rachel reached a hand and touched Victoria’s shoulder. “If I don’t make it back to 2024, then I’ll write you often, and we’ll have one amazing time out on the town when you return. Meanwhile, keep your head down and don’t do anything stupid. And don’t fall in love with some bomber pilot or politician and decide to make a home over there.”
They stared at each other with silent affection, and when the taxi tooted its horn, they carried the suitcases to the car and the driver heaved them into the trunk.
After a final embrace and kisses on cheeks, Victoria climbed into the backseat of the cab and rolled down her window.
Rachel said, “When I get back home, I’m going to look you up in one of those databases I told you about and see what happened to you.”
Victoria said, “Why don’t you come with me, Rachel? We’d have one helluva time. All those handsome G.I.s won’t know what hit them.”
Rachel shrugged. “Who knows, if things don’t work out, once I’m all better, maybe I will join you.”
“The way you fight, you could be my bodyguard and maybe you would beat up a German or two. Okay, enough said. Goodbye, Kiddo.”
When the cab left the driveway, moving through an arch of palm trees and out of sight, Rachel turned back to the bungalow. Suddenly, the drone of approaching airplanes caught her attention, and she looked up. A squadron of fighter planes passed overhead, and she wondered if David and Zach were among them, heading off to war.
Rachel wasn’t religious, but from the depths of her heart, she whispered a prayer—for them, for Victoria, and for all the men and women who would be fighting. Now, more than ever, she understood the deep gratitude owed to the veterans who had fought for the country she loved.
And the boys she’d met were so young, and yet they were good and smart, and they were sweet, and they were committed to a cause greater than themselves.
****
On Saturday, April 18, 1942, the same day newspaper headlines blared “TOKYO STRUCK BY U.S. BOMBERS,” Rachel felt strong enough to embark on her time travel journey back to 2024. Since her departure, she had received only one letter from Victoria, heavily redacted by censors.
Hello Kiddo:
I’m in … and let me tell you it’s… I’ve listed my address below, so please … You can’t believe what’s been going on. So much…
Don’t have much time, I have to… Met a guy and he … Don’t think it’s…
Write when you can, if you’re still in this world, and I hope like the dickens you are.
Got to run, Rachel.
Sending my love, Sis.
Victoria
Honolulu was a different city from when Rachel had arrived on December 3, 1941. Anxiety and uncertainty were pervasive. Rationing and shortages, especially of food and gasoline, had become a part of daily life, as resources were redirected to support the war effort.
With most men enlisted in the military, women and other civilians stepped into roles traditionally held by these men, and this social shift was already evident in the restaurants, shops, and construction sites around the city. Air raids and fire drills became routine, and air shelters were under construction.
Honolulu’s coastline and key infrastructure were reinforced with barbed wire, sandbags, and entrenched fortifications. The beaches were patrolled by the military, and Army Air Corps planes frequently roared overhead, a constant presence in the skies.
Rachel was profoundly transformed by the experiences she had endured; she was no longer the same person who had first arrived. In five months, she’d developed a true inner resilience and strength, not based solely on anger and resentment. Her interactions with the soldiers, including the ones who’d been killed at Wheeler, had filled her with a deep respect, humbling her in ways she hadn’t anticipated.
She had also forged a bond with Victoria, who had become like a second sister to her—an unexpected but delightful connection. All those experiences had helped to soothe the rage she had carried there from 2024, softening the edges of her hard personality. The chip on her shoulder, once a defining feature and one she’d been proud of, had been worn down by sacrificing for another, meeting death head-on, and surviving. All of this had made her a better person.
Rachel knew these people would win the war, and she saw firsthand how they would do it: with their strength, determination, and unwavering unity in the face of an enemy hellbent on world domination.
On April 18, Rachel arrived at the Bungalow Court, left the cab and strolled to the bungalow where she had stayed back in December. It was quiet, and the vacancy sign above the yellow and orange bungalow office had the C and the Y punched out, as if someone had damaged the sign with a rock.
