Luke's Quest 01 - Prisoner Of Time (v5.0), page 18
"I know you will tell me what you want me to know about how you feel, but not necessarily the truth," she said. "Willie tells me the truth."
"Touché," I replied. I hoped Willie hadn’t told her about the conversation with Doc Haynes at the hospital regarding my heart.
True to the promise she had made at the hospital, Lisa put me to bed early and kept me there the rest of Friday night and late into Saturday. In bed we cuddled and held each other tight, but didn’t make physical love. The cuddling and togetherness felt spiritual and romantic as well as healing. I was hoping she refrained from sex because she wanted me to recover, but I worried it might be my looks. The scars still looked bad on my face. It was noon on Saturday when I started fixing my daily bowl of oatmeal. I heard her stirring in the bedroom, so I started some bacon and eggs, her favorite breakfast. I drank my tea and tomato juice while she sipped her black coffee.
It was while she helped me wash the breakfast dishes that she broke the ice.
"The last time I was here," she started, "before you went to the hospital, you showed me a file on your computer. Do you still have it?"
"Yes," I said a bit nervously. I hadn’t told her about the intruders' reformatting my computer. I wondered if she knew and was checking on the status of the data. Maybe she hoped it had been destroyed. "Why do you want to know?"
"I brought a sample of Paul's handwriting for you to see," she said.
"Great, but let's not talk about that this weekend," I suggested.
"We have to talk about it,” she insisted. “You have given me some hints. I’m not going to push you about what you know. At the same time, I’m not going to let you divert my attention this time."
"It sounds like there is more on your mind."
"I cannot return to work until I understand more about what’s happening," she told me taking my hand. "I’m afraid of what you know."
"There’s no reason to be afraid," I tried to reassure her.
She walked out of the room. I found her in the living room rummaging through her purse. She handed me first a letter written to her from Paul and then a memo.
The letter was a bit chilling. It was in the same handwriting as the journal.
Lisa,
I know you and Luke have become lovers. Whom you choose for your latest affair is your business, not mine. I think of you as a friend as well as a partner. I just want to be able to trust you when we are on research missions. I do not want some redneck fool getting in the way. Remember, we have to cover each other's back at all times. If I cannot trust you then the necessary arrangements can and will be made.
Paul
I reread the letter carefully before I spoke. "Is this a threat, or am I reading it wrong?" I asked her. I could understand why she was afraid to return to work.
"Most men would want to know about the 'latest lover' comment first," she said.
"Paul tried to make me believe you hop from lover to lover when I first met you," I answered carefully, watching her face, "but I see you as fun loving and flirtatious, not the slut he intimated. Besides, I don't care that you have had other lovers before me, I just want to be your last lover."
She walked over to me. We kissed for a long moment.
"But you haven't answered my question,” I pressed. "Do you think this note from him is a threat?"
"I'm not sure how to take it," Lisa said sitting down next to me. "If he wanted a new partner, it just takes saying so. It’s no big deal. Actually, I was surprised he would put this in writing. He knows I could put this in his file."
"He also knows you could show it to me," I said.
"Then," she said handing me the other paper, "there is this memo, which I find most troubling. I think your life will be in danger until this is resolved."
It was on plain paper, not letterhead, and it was undated. It read:
TO: ALL TIME-OPS STAFF
SUBJECT: SECURITY BREACH
A recent security audit revealed a breach in several key areas of computer access. One outside investigator received a serious and near fatal warning. Future intrusions will result in lethal force at first indication of significant interest without any warning such as was used in this situation."
Doug Collins, Administrator
Major Samuel Polk, Senior Agent in Charge
"Who is Major Polk?" I asked. "What does he look like?"
"He’s an average guy, maybe five foot nine or ten inches tall, with a small build. He has jet-black hair that he wears in a military crew cut, and he has almost black eyes. I think he looks like a shark in the eyes. He has a thin mustache and a goatee."
Her description of him left no doubt in my mind. I had met him briefly at the party. He was the man who had confronted me in the kitchen with Betty. Lisa hadn’t seen that incident, and I decided not to tell her about it. He didn’t have the mustache or the goatee at the party. Samuel was the one who had sent me to the hospital.
"How does Jeff get along with him?" I asked.
"Not very well, lately. Jeff works out with him in the gym all the time. Some days they lift weights, and other days they spar with judo and karate. I just stay clear of him." Her face clouded. "Why do you ask about Jeff? How do you know him?"
"Oh," I tried to act surprised at her question, "I met him and Betty at your party. He was swimming, and I helped Betty some in the kitchen."
"That's right," she said, seeming relieved. "I almost forgot about that night."
Lisa leaned over against me. She loved my holding her, and I enjoyed holding her warmth next to me. I put my arm around her.
"You’re worried that this memo is about me," I stated rather than asking. "They have no reason to fear me," I said.
If looks could kill, I’d have been dead from the one she gave me. “There’s no doubt you are the subject of this memo. Paul can be very vindictive," she told me while rubbing my leg. "He seems to have told you a lot. He may try to blame you for the information leak to cover his actions and errors. He has done that before. He’s good at blaming others for his mistakes."
"How can he blame me, when everything I have is in his own handwriting?" I replied.
"I wish you would let me see it," she implored.
"Lisa, suppose for just a moment, strictly hypothetically and totally off the record, that you were a time traveler."
She pulled away from me. "This isn’t funny," she said.
"Strictly hypothetically speaking, pretend you’re H.G. Wells and pretend that you go back in time. You have information that you need to get back to the future, but you can never return to the point in time where you left."
She shuddered for a moment. "That’s so horrible to imagine," she said. "I’d kill myself if it happened to me."
"My point, though," I continued, "is, would you try to send yourself a message?"
"Probably. That seems the logical way to handle it," she nodded.
"You and I both know what happens when people from one time period go back in time. They accidentally tamper with the time stream. Once that message became reality, then there would be nothing else to do but watch to see how events unfold in this time period." I paused. My ribs were starting to hurt again.
"You can only hope for the best outcome," she said, again snuggling against me.
She either ignored or missed my slip about my knowing that people were going back in time. I had said it as a reality. We were now talking openly about realities and she wasn’t becoming upset with me. I wondered why the change in her attitude.
"I can do more than that," I told her. "I can work for the best outcome."
"They will kill you if they think you are in the way," she said.
"Then that will be the outcome for this time period," I told her.
"Lucas Cailin," she said. She always made me nervous when she used my real name. "I want to know the truth. Are you a time traveler?"
"If you mean did I come here from the future to fix a mistake in the time stream," I said carefully choosing my words, "the answer is no."
"What do you think of the concept of time travel?" she asked getting braver.
"I suppose, as a researcher, I’d love to embrace it to find certain information," I told her, "but as a realist, I think it’s evil."
"Evil?" she asked in surprise. "It should be just a tool to use like an encyclopedia or any other book."
"Gathering information is always great fun," I agreed. "Tampering with time, however, will only result in evil outcomes."
"So if you could go to any time in the past," she asked, "what would you want to learn?"
"Food would interest me," I said after several minutes of thinking about it.
Lisa jumped to her feet with a look of surprise on her face. "Did you say 'food'?" she repeated, not believing her ears.
"Sure," I said quite candidly. "Imagine being a man or woman with chickens. You watch a hen as she lays an egg. You have seen other animals eat her eggs whole, but would you? Who started the idea of frying them? You cannot just watch nature and learn to cook your food."
She laughed at me.
"I’m very serious," I told her. "What about the cashew nut? The husk is poisonous. They roast it to cause it to break it open. I understand the smoke can blind a person if it gets in the eyes. Who first came up with the idea to roast it?"
"I was serious," she said punching my side.
"Ouch! Watch the ribs," I winced.
The look on her face was priceless. It was like a puppy dog trying to say she was sorry with her eyes. I started to laugh. Laughing made my ribs hurt worse.
"Really," I continued, "I can understand how the cavemen took a hide or animal stomach, filled it with water and vegetables, and added some hot rocks. Soon they had soup. That makes sense. But I want to meet the Scotsman who decided to make haggis. If I could travel back in time, I might just find him and kill him."
Lisa laughed. "Is it really that bad?"
"No," I said, "it’s worse."
We cuddled on the sofa for a while longer. The grandfather clock in the dining room chimed 6 times.
"I should have mentioned something before," I said almost shyly. "There is a community dance and fair in the park tonight. I’m in no shape to dance, but I’d sit and listen to the music with you. That is," I added, "if you want to go."
" I’d enjoy it," she told me, "but I have nothing special to wear."
"Actually jeans and a T-shirt are just fine," I told her. "Just be ready to be stared at, pointed at and whispered about for the entire evening.
"Am I that different from the Blissville women?" she asked.
"They aren’t used to seeing me with a gorgeous woman."
I took her hand. I knew she was no longer wearing her wedding ring. I noticed the white mark on her finger was even gone. I recalled the moment on the riverboat in Memphis when she had removed the ring. She had demonstrated she had the courage to do something I’m not sure I could have done.
Several minutes later, I wore a clean western shirt and jeans. Lisa walked out of the bathroom. My heart skipped a beat.
"I’m not sure this is a good idea," I said. "Turn around so I can have the full effect."
She did a slow twirl for me. She was wearing skintight black jeans with a black T-shirt that accented her breasts far more than was normal for the local crowd.
"How about wearing the T-shirt outside instead of inside your jeans?" I asked.
"What's wrong with the way I look?" she asked looking over her shoulder into the mirror.
"If any of the younger Blissville boys are at the dance, you will send them into puberty early," I said with a smile. "If certain older men are there, they may drop dead from a heart attack. Either way, after you’re gone, every one of the church ladies will take me aside to lecture me on your appearance."
"Oh. You mean I’m too much woman for you," she teased with that mischievous grin that I loved to see.
"You’re far too much woman for first impressions. You’re so – provocative," I tried to explain but failed. I wanted her to attract the attention of everyone in town to boost my ego, but I still wanted her to project the right image. "Remember, since my mother's death, half the women in town have felt they need to lecture me on everything."
She adjusted her shirt and jeans. She still displayed all her extraordinary beauty I loved.
"I want you to know you’re the finest lady I’ve ever dated," I told her as we walked the few blocks to the city park. I walked slower than I normally did as it was the most exertion I had experienced since the attack. "I love you for your intelligence as well as your looks." She gently squeezed my hand, understanding my muddled message.
Entering the park, we walked hand-in-hand. The Fox sisters were the first to greet us.
"Hello, Lucas," Mabel said, eying Lisa. “How are you feeling since your fall?”
"Good evening, ladies," I smiled. "This is my friend Lisa." I turned to Lisa, "This is Mabel, the town librarian." I turned back to Mabel and quickly added, "Lisa is also a historian and researcher." I avoided the question about my health.
"I do not believe I’ve seen you in town before," Mabel said to Lisa.
"This is only my second time to visit Luke, here," Lisa replied. "The last time I came, Willie took us to Memphis for the weekend for some research I was doing."
"And," I interrupted her, "this is Mabel's twin sister Clara, our town postmaster." I knew I had made the mistake in her title, but it was intentional.
"Now, Lucas," Clara scolded, "I’m the town's postmistress." She said the word "mistress" with such emphasis I had to squeeze Lisa's hand to keep her from giggling.
"Are you ladies selling your candles tonight?" I asked, hoping to take their attention off of Lisa.
"Yes," said Clara. "We have just parked the car. We had driven it down by the booth to unload, but you know I hate to leave the car parked on the grass."
"I’ll have to buy you some candles tonight, Lisa," I said. "Mabel and Clara make these lovely hand-dipped candles, although I’m partial to the ones they pour into the glass canning jars, myself."
"Like the one you burn each evening in your bedroom, the cinnamon scented one?" Lisa asked.
I didn’t just blush; I turned brilliant red.
"We need to find Darlene," I said quickly in an attempt to divert the Fox sisters' attention. "I promised to help her this evening." I was too late.
"Lucas," Mabel said, folding her arms and tapping her foot, "why has this woman seen your bedroom? Surely you do not have a single woman staying with you?"
"She’s sleeping in my bedroom," I admitted. The look of horror on her face was priceless. "My bedroom has a private bath. I’m sleeping in the guest bedroom."
"Oh," said Clara trying to recover, "but who is staying with you to chaperone?"
"Willie’s there every night," Lisa answered trying to help.
I cringed.
"Willie?" the women said in near unison.
"Lisa, after the dance, you will come over to our house," Clara insisted. "Lucas can meet you at church in the morning. There is no excuse for a single woman to be in a house with two wild, single men!"
"I think I see Darlene's booth," I said pulling Lisa away. "We will see you ladies later."
Lisa was holding her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.
"I tried to warn you," I said. "Now you have to go over to the old maid house to sleep."
She stopped short, pulling her hand out of mine. "If you think for one minute that I’m sleeping anywhere but your bed tonight, you have another think coming. Besides, you and Willie will be in the guest room. I’ll just have to lock the bedroom door."
I gave her a kiss on the cheek. She gave me the pout look. "You missed my lips," she said.
"I know," I replied with a sigh. "People here do not kiss on the lips in public – not even the married ones."
We found Darlene's booth, although, really, it wasn’t Darlene's booth. One of the youth groups always sponsored the booth, and Darlene would make the food for them to sell. This time I believe it was the Future Homemakers of America. Darlene had baked several cakes, and James Green, the grocer, supplied several cases of canned sodas for the girls to sell. It was a major fundraiser for the FHA. I helped Darlene cut the cakes and place the slices on paper plates. The girls just had to take the money. Darlene was nearly through. Lisa helped hand the cake slices to the FHA girls.
"So, Lisa," asked Darlene, "do I get to meet you this time?"
"Darlene," I said, "you met her last time. Remember? She came to the diner to find me."
"She came to the diner, and then you both left. I didn’t see Luke again until the following week." She looked at Lisa giving her a wink. "Besides I have to know my competition."
Lisa blushed slightly. After meeting the Fox sisters, she was a little unsure how to take Darlene's teasing. "I’m no competition," she said.
"Oh, yes you are," Darlene told her. "When you come to town, Luke stops eating at the diner. You cost me money."
Lisa and I both laughed.
"You know the problem, Darlene," I said. "There are too many people in this town who will be talking about Lisa. She just got the third degree from Mabel and Clara."
"Oh, you poor girl," Darlene sympathized. "Just tell them you’re sleeping at my house tonight."
Lisa looked stunned. "How did you know they wanted me to stay at their house tonight?"
"You aren’t the first single girl to visit a single man in this town. They don’t believe in couples being alone until after the honeymoon," Darlene explained.
I handed Lisa some money. "They have the candles at their booth. Buy what you want. If you have too much to carry, just have the ladies put them in a sack, and I’ll get them later.
Lisa took the money and walked away to look at the booths.
"Well, Darlene," I asked, "what do you think?"
"She seems nice enough," she said. "I’m just glad she isn’t wearing her wedding ring tonight. If the Fox sisters knew you were with a married woman, you wouldn’t be standing here now."
"When we were in Memphis, she threw her wedding ring into the Mississippi River. I’m sure it’s in the Gulf by now," I told her.
