Shattered Moments (12 page)

July 2010

Williamsburg, Virginia

Valerie glanced up at the gathering clouds, actually eager for rain.  It had been sunny only a half hour ago, but now the gunmetal sky seemed to hang lower, the clouds turning a threatening shade of aubergine as a flash of lightning split the sky, warning the swarms of tourists of an imminent downpour.  The vendors selling tricorns, mob caps, and rolled-up Declarations of Independence began to cover their wares just in case the heavens opened up, and the throngs of tourists began to thin as they headed toward the parking areas eager to get to their cars before the rain came down. 

The past few days had been
stifling; Valerie’s newly bought summer clothes doing little to keep her cool.  She was wearing fewer layers, but she was somehow hotter and more irritable, and felt strangely exposed despite the fact that most people were dressed in a similar fashion.  Years of living in the seventeenth century left her more aware of modesty and propriety, something she paid very little attention to when she lived in the twenty-first century.

Alec seemed oblivious to the weather as he strolled down the dirt road, looking at the replicas of storefronts and inns lining the Duke of Glou
cester Street, his gaze searching for the inn where they’d stayed while looking for Finn several years ago.  So much had happened to them in Williamsburg, but this display, although accurate, did little justice to the real thing.  It all appeared so forced, so staged. 

Alec shook his head as they neared the Capitol building.  It had seemed
so grand in the seventeenth century, but now it appeared quaint rather than imposing, the sentry standing guard looking bored and tired.  Alec turned on his heel and took Valerie by the arm, leading her back toward Merchant’s Square.  Fat drops of rain began to come down, mixing with the dry dirt of the road and quickly turning into mud.  Parents grabbed their children and ran for cover just as thunder boomed loudly over their heads and a little boy screamed in terror as lightning flashed again, much closer this time. 

Valerie scampered after Alec as she tried to keep up, but she didn’t care if she got wet.  She was hot and frustrated, her guts twisting with misery as she looked around Colonial Williamsburg and felt a tearing pain in her heart at the knowledge that this might be the closest they could get to the past.  They’d spent
countless hours going over every option, every idea, no matter how far-fetched, but came up with nothing of value, nothing that got them closer to a plan.  Alec kept his emotions under tight control, but Valerie cried herself to sleep, her heart breaking at the thought of being torn from the people she loved forever.  How long could they stay here?  What could they do?  Eventually, the money would run out, and they would have to decide how to proceed and where to make a home for themselves.  Alec would be no better than an illegal immigrant; with no status, identification, or chance at any decent employment.  They’d gone over it a million times, but still hadn’t come up with anything useful.  They were trapped, existing on two different planes; their life torn to pieces by her carelessness.

**

Valerie used a napkin to wipe the rainwater off her face, as she watched the rain run in rivulets down the not-so-clean window of a small pizzeria they’d found on a side street.  She was huddled in a booth, her legs sticking to the plastic bench and her skin covered with goose bumps as the arctic blast of the air conditioner hit her wet T-shirt and damp hair.  Alec slid in opposite her, pushing a slice of pizza and a can of Coke in her direction, his expression strangely serene despite their visit to Colonial Williamsburg.  Valerie expected him to be as torn up as she was, but he just happily bit into his pizza, a faraway look in his eyes as he gazed out the window.  She knew she should probably make some attempt at conversation, but she couldn’t bring herself to make small talk when she felt as if her whole life was falling apart, everything dear to her getting further and further away with every passing day. Every time she thought of home, she wanted to howl with misery, especially when she imagined little Tom, who was probably missing them and crying for Grandma and Grandpa.  Louisa was probably frantic as well, imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios in which Alec was on his deathbed, diagnosed with stomach cancer or something equally terminal.

Alec had stopped chewing and was looking intently at the two old men playing a game of chess in the corner.  They were staring at the board as if the pieces would come to life and start planning their strategy, moving and battling like real men, not pieces of plastic moved around the board by players.  One of the men exclaimed in disgust as the other took his queen, and took a long pull of his beer to take some of the sting out of his loss.

“Where is Princeton?” Alec suddenly asked, his eyes alight with something Valerie couldn’t understand. 

“It’s in New Jersey.  Why do you ask?” 
Alec asked her random questions all the time.  Despite their predicament, he was fascinated with everything he saw and wanted to learn as much as possible, even if the information had no bearing on anything relevant.

“No reason,” Alec answered cryptically
.  “Would you like to come with me to the library?  There’s something I’d like to check.”  He had that look on his face, the kind he got when he tried to plan some kind of surprise for her, but couldn’t keep the glee out of his eyes.  What had he seen that suddenly gave him hope?  He was already halfway out of his seat, eager to get going.

“Alec, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is all about.”  Valerie crossed her arms and stared him down, willing him to sit back down and explain.

“Val, I don’t want to give you false hope,” he said quietly, but took a seat and clasped his hands in front of him as if he were trying to contain his excitement.

“At this point, false hope is better than no hope, so please tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Mr. Taylor loves to play chess,” Alex announced out of the blue, a gleeful smile playing about his lips.

“So?”

“So, he’s very competitive and loves to distract his opponent by chatting about this and that.  It usually works too, because he wins most of the time.”

“So?!”

“So, we’ve had lots of conversations about his time at the university and how he first came to be interested in time travel.  He tried to explain to me how it all works.”  Alec looked very pleased with himself, but Valerie just moaned with disappointment.

“Are you going to build a time travel
-device?  Alec, this isn’t Star Trek; this is real life.  You know nothing about physics.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Alec
retorted with a smile, “I have no intention of building anything. I’ve just figured out how to use the TV remote, I’m hardly qualified to build a time-travel device; however, Mr. Taylor did not work alone.  He had a partner, a man named Isaac Bloom.”

“Who is either dead by now or living in England where we can’t get to him,” Valerie grumbled as she looked at her
ever-optimistic husband.

“Mr. Bloom might be dead, but he isn’t in England.  He immigrated to the United States in the
1970s and took a teaching post at Princeton University.  Now, let’s go to the library and Google our Mr. Bloom.  If he’s still alive, he might be able to help us.”

“Oh, Alec, that’s genius,” Valerie exclaimed, “pure genius.  I hope the man is in very fine health and still living in New Jersey.  Come, let’s go.”

The library was pleasantly cool and quiet, most computers unoccupied as it was lunchtime.  A few people quietly read, while the librarian peered over her glasses at the tall man with the British accent, and the woman who looked like a drowned rat with her wet hair sticking to her forehead and her damp shirt clinging to her breasts.  Alec carefully lowered himself into a chair, conscious of his incision which still pained him, especially when he sat down or got out of bed.  Valerie couldn’t bear to watch, so she flipped through a magazine as Alec laboriously typed with one finger, scribbling something on a notepad from time to time.  They couldn’t get too optimistic.  Anything could have happened to the man since the ‘70s, and even if he were still alive and well, he might not want to help.  According to Alec, Mr. Taylor and Isaac Bloom fell out and hadn’t spoken in decades.  Valerie lowered the magazine and looked at Alec.  He didn’t seem too upset, so maybe he found something worthwhile.  He finally rose and came to get her, his notepad in his hand. 

“Mr. Isaac Bloom still teaches at Princeton University, and as it happens
, just had an article published on something I don’t pretend to understand, but it proves that he’s still in full control of his faculties, which is very good news.  How do we get to Princeton?”

“It’s probably cheaper to take the bus.  I don’t think there’s one that goes directly there, but we can take a bus to a central location, such as New York, and then take a local bus to Princeton.  There must be one that goes from Port Authority.  Let’s check the bus schedules.  We need to conserve our money, Alec.  I don’t want the bank to alert the authorities that I’ve accessed my account
since I would have gone missing by now.  It would give my parents something to hold on to, and I don’t want them hurt any more than they already are.” 

“I understand.  Will you be all right being in New York and not seeking them out?” Alec asked carefully.

“I can’t promise anything.  Now, let’s check those bus timetables.”

July
2010

Maryland

The Greyhound bus cruised down the highway, stores and gas stations whizzing by as they passed town after town on their way north.  Alec sat by the window, gazing out like a little kid on his first car trip.  They were somewhere near Washington DC, the city skyline visible in the distance.  Alec would have loved to stop and spend a day, but Valerie was desperate to get to New Jersey, her whole body vibrating with anxiety at what they would find once they got there. 

“Why are there so many of the same stores and restaurants?” he asked, turning to Valerie who was trying in vain to take a nap.  “I see signs for the same places every few miles.”

“It’s called “brand recognition.”  People like knowing what to expect, so they go to the same places.”

“That sounds rather dull,” Alec mused.  “Why would anyone want to do that?”

“I suppose it is dull, but it has its advantages.  You see, say you want to buy a flat-screen TV or an iPad.  Why would you go to some small local store that you have no knowledge of, when you can go to Best Buy?  You know that you will get good product, great service, and a reasonable price, especially if there’s a sale.  If there’s anything wrong with your purchase, Best Buy will take it back, no questions asked, and either give you a refund or a new product, whereas a different store might sell you something refurbished or refuse to exchange or refund.”

Alec nodded his approval of this reasoning.  “Yes, that makes perfect sense.  What about restaurants?”

“It’s the same principle, really.  People like to know what they’re getting, and when they go to a place they’re familiar with, there are few surprises such as terrible food or bad service.  It’s all about expectations.  Marketing is a science unto itself.  People spend millions on advertising campaigns, building brand recognition and a favorable reputation.”

“How marvelous,” Alec replied.  “Maybe Charl
ie and I can work on brand recognition for the cane liquor we import.  We should give it a name, and convince the tavern owners that our rum is better than someone else’s.”

Valerie just burst out laughing.  Alec was such an optimist.  Not only did he think he was going back, but he wanted to start a rum competition between the only two taverns in Jamestown.  “I love you, Alec Whitfield,” she said between giggles.  “You are truly a Renaissance man.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, but I will take it as a compliment.”  He turned back to the window, gaping as a Maserati flew past the bus, its gleaming red body sleek and beautiful.  Alec exhaled, his face full of longing, and Valerie just patted his arm.  If they were stuck in the twenty-first century, maybe he would eventually learn how to drive.  Getting a driver’s license might be a problem, but at this point, that was the least of their worries.

She had to admit that looking for Mr. Bloom was a long shot, but at this point, they had nothing left to lose.  There were no other avenues to explore.  If they failed to find him, or if he refused to help, they were back to square one, except they would now be that much closer to her family.  It was the beginning of July
, and Louisa would likely be back from England by now, the bearer of terrible news.  She supposed, at this point, her parents would still harbor hopes that Valerie would be found and returned to them, but Valerie knew better, and her heart squeezed as she thought of what they were about to go through.  To lose a child was bad enough, but to lose a child without any explanation was that much worse.  There would be no clues, no body to bury, and no grief to come to terms with.  Louisa said that her mom and dad lived with the hope that someday something would come to light, and they would find out what happened to their beloved girl.  If only she could see them and tell them the truth, but that was out of the question; she knew that.  Valerie had to live with the knowledge that her parents would die in just over a year, never knowing what happened to her or finding peace in the knowledge that she was alive and well, living four hundred years before her time.

Valerie sighed and closed her eyes again.  One day at a time, she told herself.  One day at a time.