All My Tomorrows (15 page)

CHAPTER 15

Maggie pulled the dresser away from the wall and picked up the sledge hammer. After a few firm swings at the wall, she had a hole big enough to put her hands into and pulled several larger pieces of sheetrock away. She continued to enlarge the hole until she managed to remove the entire bottom of the four-by-eight sheet at least two feet up from the floor, exposing all four studs the sheetrock was nailed to. She knelt on the floor amid the dusty mess and inspected the area between the studs. There, still wrapped in cloth, were all six of her diaries, two between the first and second studs, two more between the second and third studs and the final two between the third and fourth studs. Not withstanding the sheetrock debris, they were just as Maggie left them months earlier when she decided on a whim to turn them into a time capsule of sort. All six diaries were untouched.

Oh my God. She was telling the truth, Maggie thought. They're all still here. She didn't steal them. Could she really be from the future?

Maggie thought back to when she first met Jordan. She'd been in the barn one morning, getting ready to take Shawny out for a ride when all of the sudden, Jordan lunged at her from out of nowhere, tacking her to the dirt just before that metal winch fell from the rafters.

Maggie now found herself wondering if Jordan's presence in the barn was the coincidence Jordan tried to pass it off as.
Could she have been there intentionally? Could she have traveled through time and arrived just before the winch fell? Could she have known I was in danger? This sounds so insane.

Over the next several weeks, she had spent more and more time with Jordan, and before long, she felt herself anticipate the sunrise each morning because it would mean seeing Jordan's smiling face at the breakfast table.

Then she saw the scar that ran from the middle of Jordan's back down to her buttocks and learned that she was a paraplegic.

If she is really from the future, it makes sense that the implant would seem beyond what is currently possible with today's medical technology.

"What was it that she said to me that day?
Maggie, there are things you don't know about me that I promise I will explain when the time is right
," Maggie said out loud. "Is this time-travel business what she was trying to tell me about in her own covert way?"

As she knelt in front of the torn out wall, Maggie remembered the first time she made love to Jordan. Having been paralyzed since she was sixteen, Jordan had spent the previous fourteen years with no sensation in the lower half of her body, but with the help of the spinal implant she was slowly beginning to feel surges of desire deep within her core when Maggie would touch her in certain ways.

Maggie's eyes flew open as she recalled what Jordan had said in the middle of love making…

"I am so in love with you," Jordan confessed.

"Shh, don't say that. You barely know me," Maggie replied.

Jordan smiled. "I have known you for a hundred years, and I will love you for a hundred more."

"I have known you for a hundred years and I will love you for a hundred more," Maggie repeated out loud. "What did she mean by that? Was she talking about what she learned from my diaries? How can that be? How could Jordan have read my diaries if they are still buried here in the wall just as I left them? Could she be telling the truth?"

Maggie thought back over the past several months for other clues. She recalled brief comments made after making love in front of the fire one night.

"How is it that you so easily walked into my life and stole my heart?" Maggie asked.

"Actually, I didn't walk into your life… I transported into it. You see, I'm really a scientist from the future and I traveled here via a time machine to intentionally invade your life," Jordan replied.

Maggie raised her head and looked directly into Jordan's eyes. She smiled widely. "You are such a kook sometimes."

Maggie sat back on her heels and covered her face with her hands. "It's been there all along. The clues, the hints. I've just been too blind to see it. I do love you, Jordan. I should have trusted you. What have I done, Jordan? What have I done?"

CHAPTER 16

Jordan repacked her duffle bag and slung it over her shoulder. She picked up her shoes and quietly padded through the house toward the front door where she sat down on a bench to put her shoes on. Just as she rose to her feet and reached for the door handle, she heard a noise behind her.

"Going somewhere?"

Jordan looked back to see Sam standing at the top of the stairs.

"I thought I'd head out early. I've got to figure out what to do next if I'm going to move forward with my life," Jordan said.

Sam reached her hand out toward Jordan. "I forbid you to leave before breakfast. Now put your bag down and come help me."

Sam led Jordan into the kitchen and pulled two mugs from the cupboard. "The coffee pods are next to the machine. Creamer is in the fridge. I drink mine black," she said.

Jordan inserted the first pod into the coffee maker and waited patiently as it brewed. "How long have you and Gina known Maggie?" Jordan asked as she handed the first cup to Sam.

Sam answered her as she gathered ingredients for omelets. "Gina has known her since grade school. They grew up together. I've only known her for about ten years. That's when I met Gina."

"Where did you two meet?"

"We met in college. We both attended Vermont Tech. Gina is a veterinarian and studied animal husbandry there. I studied agriculture."

"Hence your gardening skills," Jordan observed.

"Yes."

"Is Gina the vet for the area?"

"Are you asking if she takes care of Maggie's horses?"

Jordan blushed. "I'm that transparent, huh? Yeah, I guess that's just what I'm asking."

Sam leaned her hip against the cabinet and tilted her head to one side. "I get the feeling there's more to you than meets the eye, Jordan Lewis. I mean, the reason you sought Maggie out is a bit odd, and maybe even alarming, but I don't sense any danger in you."

"Otherwise Sam wouldn't be comfortable allowing you to stay in our home," Gina said from the doorway. "I've learned to trust Sam's instincts."

Sam smiled when she saw her wife. "Good morning, love. Coffee?" she asked.

Gina walked over to Sam and kissed her tenderly. "Yes, please."

"I've got it covered," Jordan said as she pulled another mug down from the cupboard and slipped a new pod into the machine.

"I caught Jordan trying to sneak out before breakfast," Sam said.

Gina raised her eyebrows at Jordan. "Big mistake, my friend. Sam doesn't let anyone leave here on an empty stomach. So, what are your plans from here?"

Jordan leaned her backside against the cabinet and crossed her legs at her ankles. "Truthfully, I don't know. I have a little money from my job on the farm, so I should be okay for a few weeks if I can find a relatively inexpensive place to live. I know what I'd like to do, but it will take considerable money to get it off the ground."

"What kind of skills do you have besides being a farm hand? Maybe we can put you in touch with potential employers," Gina offered.

Jordan debated with herself whether to be truthful with her new friends. She thought for a moment before answering. "I am a research scientist with a PhD in kinesiology and spinal cord injuries."

Gina nearly choked on her coffee. "Are you shitting me? A research scientist? Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Why would someone with your background want to be a farm hand, Jordan?" Sam asked as she slid the first omelet onto a plate.

"I needed to be close to Maggie. Besides, I grew up on a horse farm so I really do know my way around horses."

"Well, the University of Vermont has a program that's associated with the Medical Center. Maybe they could use another research scientist," Gina suggested.

"There's also Dartmouth-Hitchcock Hospital in Lebanon, New Hampshire. That's about a ninety-minute drive from here," Sam added. She slid the second omelet onto a plate and handed one each to Gina and Jordan. "Here, eat them while they're hot. Mine will be done in just a minute."

A few minutes later, all three women sat round the small table in the breakfast nook, enjoying their breakfast.

"So, Jordan, what is it you want to do that requires so much money?" Gina asked.

"I have knowledge and experience that no one else has in this day and age relative to treatments for spinal cord injuries. I'd like to open my own privately funded foundation to further those studies. I believe I can realize significant gains in restoring mobility for victims of spinal cord injuries in a relatively short amount of time."

"You're very sure of yourself, Jordan. Why such a high level of confidence?" Sam asked.

Jordan stood and turned her back to her friends. "Because of this," she said, pulling up her shirt to expose the scar on her back.

Sam stood and approached Jordan. "My God, Jordan, what happened to you?" she asked, running her index finger down the scar.

Jordan sighed. "Maggie had the same exact reaction," she said, a tell-tale catch in her throat. Jordan reached back and moved Sam's hand lower down her spine and pressed it into a spot just to the right of center between her two back pockets of her jeans. "Feel this," she said.

Sam's eyes opened wide. "It's vibrating. Gina, feel this," she said."

Gina reached forward and also felt the vibration. "What the hell is it?" she asked.

Jordan turned around and tucked her shirt back in. "It's a spinal implant, design to restore mobility."

"Whoa, wait a minute here. Are you trying to tell us you have a spinal cord injury?" Gina asked incredulously.

"Yes. My spinal cord is completely severed at the L1 vertebrae. As a vet, Gina, you surely understand what that means."

"You're damned right I do. It means paralysis… complete and permanent. How the hell are you standing here if you're a paraplegic?"

"The implant sends alternating electrical pulses to both sides of the injury site and allows a synthetic bridge to be established, thus restoring mobility. In theory, these impulses encourage the nerve endings to begin growing toward one another. Hopefully, some day soon, they will physically bridge the injury site and grow together. In the meantime, I have restored mobility, and with any luck, at some point, the nerve endings in my skin will wake up too," Jordan explained.

"Holy shit. I didn't realize spinal cord research has progressed so much," Gina exclaimed.

"It hasn't," Jordan replied. "But with my help, I'm hoping it will."

Gina carried her plate to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. "This changes everything, Jordan."

"What do you mean?" Jordan asked.

"I mean, I'm going to put you in touch with some philanthropist friends of mine. Once they hear what you have to say, I'm betting they'll be willing to throw some money behind your plan."

"Gina, that's a great idea," Sam said. "Jordan, go put your bag back in the guest room. You're not going anywhere."

"I appreciate your hospitality, ladies, but I don't want to overstay my welcome," Jordan said.

Gina put her hand on Jordan's shoulder. "Bullshit. Do as Sam says. You can pay us back when you're rich and famous. Now go take care of your bag and while you're doing that, I'll call my friends."

* * *

At two o'clock that afternoon, Jordan and Gina sat in the waiting room of one Phyllis Neese, Attorney. Jordan's leg bounced up and down nervously.

"Relax. Phyllis is a nice person. Don't be so nervous," Gina said.

"I feel like I should be more prepared. In the past when I've applied for grants, I spent hours and hours preparing presentations and organizing research results to justify funding. This feels way too casual. Hell, I'm wearing jeans, for Christ's sake. I feel so unprofessional."

"Phyllis won't be concerned about the way you look. She'll be more concerned about your brain and your potential results than the fact that you're wearing jeans."

"Sometimes, talking to the money guys is more difficult than you think. They are usually focused on the bottom line rather than the benefits of your research."

"I think you'll find Phyllis to be a horse of a different color," Gina said. "She specializes in medical disability cases, so she'll at least understand the lingo. And besides, it's not like the money is coming directly out of her pocket. She represents investors. All you need to do is convince her that this is an investment worth making."

"That might be harder than you think," Jordan mused.

"How can you lose? You are proof that it works." Gina pointed out.

Just then, the door to the waiting room opened and a middle-aged woman entered. "Ms. Neese will see you now," she said.

"Take a deep breath, Jordan. It'll be fine," Gina said as she rose to her feet and offered her hand to Jordan.

Gina walked into Phyllis Neese's office in front of Jordan. The lawyer rose to her feet and met her half way across the room. "Gina," she said, hugging her. "It's so nice to see you again. How's Sam?"

"Sam is great. She sends her love."

"How did her garden do this winter? Nancy is looking forward to the rhubarb."

"Nancy's strawberry-rhubarb crisp is the best. Is she planning to enter it into the Champlain Valley Fair this year?"

"You bet she is."

"Well, I'll be sure to tell Sam to set some aside for her as soon as it's ripe enough to harvest."

Jordan observed the interaction between Gina and Ms. Neese and immediately liked the woman.

"Phyllis, I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Jordan Lewis. Jordan, this is Phyllis Neese," Gina said.

Jordan extended her hand to Ms. Neese and shook it warmly. "So nice to meet you, Ms. Neese," she said.

"Phyllis. Call me Phyllis. So, Gina tells me you have a proposal that requires funding."

"Yes. It's more of a research project at this point, but I have evidence and experience that will significantly shorten the development time. I'm afraid I don't have a formal presentation for you today."

"The presentation to the investors will come later, after you convince me your project is worth funding. Now tell me, Dr. Lewis what is it you need funding for?"

Jordan walked from one end of the room to the other, feeling Phyllis's eyes on her as she walked. She returned to the center of the room and stood in front of her. "I have a cure for paralysis resulting from a complete severance of the spinal cord," she said.

Phyllis jumped to her feet. "No freaking way. How is that possible?"

"I hesitate to divulge the details at this point, Phyllis. Just know I've spent the last several years working on a method to restore mobility for millions of SCI victims who currently have little to no hope of walking again without the assistance of some huge, clumsy exoskeleton."

"How do I know you're telling me the truth? You realize you are asking for millions of research dollars, but yet are not giving me anything to base it on."

"What I am asking for, is a chance to present my case to the scientists you currently have working on SCI mobilization projects," Jordan explained. "If they see the merit in my proposal, then yes, I will be asking for millions of research dollars and the right to lead a team of scientists in the development of a cure for complete spinal cord injuries."

"Do you have X-rays or MRI's from test subjects to verify your injury?" Phyllis asked.

"They have been done, but unfortunately, I do not have access to them."

"Well, then they will need to be done again before we go to the investors."

"I'm afraid that will not be possible."

Phyllis looked long and hard at Jordan. "You're not making my job easy, here, Jordan."

"I apologize for that, but I am confident I can sell my case to a group of scientists who will truly understand the potential in what I have to say."

Phyllis scribbled several notes on the notepad in front of her. "By the way, Dr. Lewis, what is your background?"

"I have a PhD in kinesiology and spinal cord regeneration techniques."

"I assume your have the credentials to back up your education?"

Jordan fell silent for a few moments. "No, Ma'am, I don't have access to those documents either. What I have for proof is the knowledge and experience that I am willing to share with other research scientists. I am also willing to go before your most knowledgeable experts on spinal cord injuries for either a written or oral exam."

"But you have no records of either the medical procedures or your credentials?"

"No, Ma'am, I do not."

"That might be a problem. Let me talk to my investors. If they are willing to listen to your case, I will set up a meeting with them."

"And their SCI scientists," Jordan added.

"Yes, and their SCI scientists."