The Day Before Forever (22 page)

“Why yes, of course you can.”

The man took out his keys and unlocked the case. He withdrew a delicate-looking ring.

The man looked at me. “Is it for the lovely lady over there?”

“It is,” Henley said before I could stop him.

The man waved me closer and motioned for me to put my left hand out.

“Slender fingers,” he said, looking at my hand.

Embarrassed, I started to pull my hand away, but he grasped it in his own.

“Looks like it'll be a perfect fit, though.” The man looked at Henley. “Do you want to do the honors?” He handed him the ring.

Henley took my hand and slipped the silver ring onto my ring finger.

“You're right. A perfect fit.” But Henley was looking at me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

Henley didn't answer. It was probably because of the shop attendant, but I couldn't be sure of the exact reason.

“Might I offer my congratulations?” the man said.

“Congratulations for what?” I said before I could think.

The man waved his hands. “The engagement, of course!”

“Of course . . . ,” I muttered.

“How do you like the style of the ring?” the man asked.

The ring was simple, like the first ring Henley had given me. But instead of two small diamonds flanking a stone the color of Henley's eyes, this one had engraved vines that seemed to hold up one lone diamond.

Taking my silence to mean dislike, the man busied himself looking through the rows of other rings.

“Don't you move an inch. I'll go and look for some other options.”

“Do you like it?” Henley asked, when the man disappeared.

“Yes, I do, but—”

“Then it's yours,” Henley said.

“It's just not practical. The money—”

“Surely we can spare some money for this. I don't
really
need those short pants, and there are other things we don't
really
need.”

“The money's not the only thing,” I said. “It's just not that practical. I lost the first ring you gave me when I traveled back in time to 1527, because the ring hadn't been created yet. I'm
eventually going to have to travel in time again, and I'll only lose this ring too. I can't only travel in time periods where this ring exists. It's beautiful and I appreciate the thought, but it's simply not practical.”

I slid the ring off my finger and placed it gently on the glass counter in front of us.

Henley took it in his own hands. The ring was dwarfed by his fingers.

“You do understand, right?”

Henley didn't answer my question. “Someday I want to get you a ring. Call it a replacement for the one you lost.”

“Henley, I don't need a ring . . .”

“I
want
to give you a ring,” he said. “You might not understand why, but it's important for me. I'm a little old-fashioned like that.”

“But it's not—”

“Practical?” He set the ring back on the counter and faced me. “What is
ever
practical? Sometimes we do things because we
want
to do them, not because they're practical at that moment.”

The man who was helping us came back before I could reply.

“I found all these lovely possibilities,” he said, setting a collection of gold and silver rings before us.

“I'm sorry. We're done here,” Henley said.

The man's mouth opened as if he was going to object.

“I'm sorry,” I repeated.

I pulled Henley with me, away from the jewelry section.

“Let's just get your clothes and go.”

That night I woke up parched. It must have been the middle of
the night—maybe it was early morning already?

I gently moved Henley's arm, which he had wrapped around me. It was so dark, I couldn't see his face, but I hoped he was sleeping peacefully.

I got up slowly, trying not to shake the bed. There was something that smelled in the room. Maybe we had forgotten to close one of the windows? It was foul.

I crept toward the bathroom with my arms outstretched to find the doorknob.

It was then that my foot sank into something wet.

I froze.

Wet. Squishy. Vaguely sticky.

“Um . . . Henley?”

Of course there was no answer, he was asleep.

I took another step.
Squish.

I leaped toward the wall with the light switch. Feeling around for the switch, I finally hit it and the light flickered on.

Blood.

I took a breath to scream, but my throat felt blocked.

“Rebecca?” Henley's eyes fluttered open. He sat up in bed. “My God. Are you hurt?”

He jumped out of bed and took a couple bounding steps toward me, but he slipped on the blood on the floor and instead came crashing down next to the body of the dead snake dragged onto our floor.

After I helped him up, Henley looked down again at the snake.

“I woke up to get a glass of water and stepped on this,” I said.

Henley was silent for a few seconds. “You know who did this, don't you?”

“The killer?”

“Who else could it be? It's a warning,” Henley said. “And look how the snake's arranged.”

I looked down and realized the tail of the snake was in its mouth. It was an unnatural position, almost as if the snake was trying to ingest its own body.

“It's an uroboros,” Henley said. “The sign of eternal return. And look at what the killer's done to it.”

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I followed Henley's gaze and looked down at the snake's head. It was cut clean from its body.

“The eternal circle is broken,” Henley said.

He took the sheet off the bed and gathered the snake's body onto it. He mopped up the blood.

“Rebecca, open the window.”

I was still in shock, but I did as I was told through my trembling.

Henley took the bedsheet with the body in it and threw it out the window onto the street.

“There. It's all done. Now, wash up and get back to bed. We already know we need to leave as soon as we can.” Henley made to comfort me but stopped short, realizing his hands were slick with blood, as if he had killed the snake himself.

FOURTEEN

OUR PASSPORTS CAME
on the one rainy day we had. We heard the rain tap against our window as we got ready.

“It's summer. It's not supposed to rain this hard,” Henley said.

I was washing my face, having just gotten out of bed.

There was a shuffling noise by the door.

I walked out of the bathroom with my face still dripping wet.

“Henley?”

There was an envelope that had been pushed under the door.

I made sure to wipe my hands dry on my shirt before picking it up.

It was a hefty envelope—thick and bulky. The flap wasn't sealed, only tucked in.

I opened it above the bed, and two navy American passports came tumbling out.

“They're here,” Henley said.

Thank goodness.
We had already bought our plane tickets online and were set to leave in three days. Not to mention we had already paid full price for these passports. If the passports hadn't come in time, we would have been stuck without money.

Henley picked up one of them, and I picked up the other. I opened it, and my face stared back at me. I knew it was the picture Carl had taken in the cramped side street, but here it looked official with a white background somehow Photoshopped in.

“The man Carl uses is good. Really good,” Henley said.

“I just hope they pass for the real thing.” I tilted my passport and a government-related stamp came into view. “I wish there was a way of testing these, but we won't know if they work until we try them at the airport.”

“On the bright side, if we get caught with fake passports, at least you could use the clock to time travel us out of prison,” Henley said.

And have to leave Henley behind since his body wouldn't be able to take it
, I mentally added. I didn't want to think of what would happen if these passports didn't work.

I took my passport and Henley's and made sure to put them into the backpack. It was better to have everything valuable on us at all times.

“We should see if we can pay Aaron the remainder of the room cost ahead of time,” I said. “We have a morning flight and need to get to the airport early. I don't want to have to worry about one more thing.”

Henley and I went down to the front desk. I rang the bell.

“Haven't seen you two in a while,” Aaron said. “How have
you been?”

“We've been doing well,” I said.

“So what can I help you with?”

“We're checking out early on Thursday morning. We were hoping we could pay the remainder of the money for the room now, so it would be one less thing for us to do in the morning.”

“How early's early?”

“The flight is at eight fifteen,” Henley said.

“Yikes. Now that
is
early, given you need to get there at least three hours earlier. Security can be a mess. That alone could take an hour, I understand. You can pay the balance right now, if you wish.”

“How much is it?” Henley asked, already taking out a couple of the Visa gift cards.

“The total comes out to five hundred sixty-six pounds and forty pence, so subtracting the deposit that'll come out to four hundred and sixty-six pounds and forty pence.” Aaron took the gift cards and ran them through his machine. “I see you're not using cash anymore.”

“We figured it was safer,” I said, when Henley couldn't come up with a response.

“Sign here.” Aaron passed us the electronic screen.

Henley gave him his autograph.

“Great,” Aaron said.

“We're all squared away then?”

“Yes, we are.”

When we turned away from the desk, we were met with Alanna and Peter. We hadn't even heard them come in.

“You two must have really quiet footsteps,” Henley said.
“How long have you been standing behind us?”

“Long enough to see that you're checking out.” Alanna pouted. “When are you leaving?”

“Thursday.”

“Oh, at least it's not today,” she said. She glanced at Peter. “I'm glad you told us. We really have to take you out to dinner before you leave.”

“Oh, you don't have to do that. You've paid for so many meals already,” I said.

“Nonsense!”

“We insist,” Peter said. “Really, you'll be saving me. Or else Alanna will be going on and on forever about wanting to have dinner with you guys before you leave.”

Alanna stuck out her bottom lip. “Yes, I will. So when are you free. Tonight? The night before you leave?”

“Why don't we do dinner tonight?” The quicker, the better. I looked at Henley for confirmation. He nodded.

“Should we meet you here in the lobby?” Henley asked.

“Why don't you meet us at the restaurant? Maybe at six?” Alanna said. “It's called Bezels. Funny name, isn't it? It's right on the corner of the grocery store if you know where that is.”

“Yeah, sure. We'll see you there.”

We should have spent the day touring the city, as we didn't have much time left in London, but instead we spent our day in the hostel.

We cut the tags on Henley's new shorts and swim trunks. We folded what little clothing we had. We readied everything so it could be stuck into the green backpack at a moment's notice.

We had been ready to leave for a while, especially after that horrifying incident with the dead snake symbol. Everything was happening too slowly.

That evening, Henley and I entered Bezels to see Alanna and Peter sitting at the back of an empty restaurant.

Alanna waved us over.

“I would have thought it'd be packed by six,” I said as we took our seats across from them. “Isn't it prime dinnertime?”

“Oh, just you wait. In the next thirty minutes, I guarantee you it'll fill up,” Alanna said.

“Aaron told us about this place. I think it was one of the first restaurants in London that we tried,” Peter said. “He specifically told us to make a reservation before six thirty.”

“I'm sure between you two and Aaron, you know all the best restaurants in the city,” Henley said.

“We would like to think we've tried all the awful ones and weeded them out before letting our friends eat at them.” Alanna unfolded her napkin and set it in her lap. “Let's get a bread basket.”

Peter motioned over our heads to call our waiter over.

“How may I help you?”

“Could we get a bread basket, please?”

Our waiter clasped his hands. “Certainly. Could I take everyone's drink orders as well?”

Before I could take a look at the menu in front of Alanna and Peter, Alanna ordered for all of us.

“Let's start with four Pimm's.”

“Would you like waters as well?”

“No, thank you.” When our waiter turned to go, she said,
“Water is for the weak.”

“I believe Alanna's trying to get you tipsy,” Henley said to me. “I think she wants to see it in person.”

“Tipsy? I'm trying to get her drunk. This is our last meal together. She needs to have a memorable time having fun!”

I smiled nervously. I thought she was only joking, but it was hard to tell.

“I do hope you both enjoyed your time in London, though,” Alanna said.

“We did,” I said. “Lots of sights to see . . . It's hard to pinpoint why exactly, but it's the type of city you don't get in the States.”

“I get that,” Peter said. “Having a long history, maybe?”

“No, I think it's something more,” Alanna said.

Our bread basket and a dish of olive oil came, and I took a moment to unfold my napkin.

“What do you think it is?” I asked her.

“A certain type of aura—if you will—that the people carry around with them. Different people have different ways of walking. Different motivations. Different ways of living.” Alanna took a piece of bread, skipping the olive oil all together. “Look at Aaron, for instance. He's satisfied with the hostel and himself. He takes sure steps. He isn't waiting to make something of himself.” She took a bite.

“Isn't that just like New York or any other big city in the world?” Henley asked.

“Maybe. But I'd like to think it's different here. Special.”

“We all see things the way we want to perceive them,” Peter said.

I wasn't expecting anything that wise from someone who was currently balling up his piece of bread to make sure it soaked up the maximum amount of olive oil possible.

“We'll sure miss this city when we leave,” he said.

“And when are you leaving?” I asked. “Do you have a set date?”

“We don't,” Alanna said. “We typically move when it feels like we've learned enough from one place. That's another type of feeling; you just
know
.”

“We're almost done with our time here, just like you guys are,” Peter said. “Then it's time to move on. Alanna will probably take new photos of food in a different city. I'll trail along, just like always.”

“We're thinking of Prague next. I've always wanted to go. Or maybe somewhere in Switzerland.”

The waiter brought us our drinks.

Henley took the first sip. “That sounds like an adventure.”

“I don't suppose you both would like to join us?” Alanna said. “We'd love the company, if you have the time.”

I shook my head. That was the one thing we didn't have. “We've got to get going, unfortunately.”

“Get back home to everyday life?”

Sure, if you could call running from a killer “everyday life.”

The dinner went smoothly. The portions were big, so Alanna and Peter shared a quinoa bowl while Henley and I shared a steak. The food was good, and my second Pimm's was giving me a flush.

“When you're ready,” the waiter said, placing the bill in the middle of the table.

Both Henley and Alanna dove for it. Henley's hand got there first, but Alanna batted it away.

“B-but you've paid for so many meals,” Henley said.

“Not me. My parents,” Alanna said. “You can let me have this one, because this is their money, not mine.”

Henley reluctantly gave up trying to claw the bill back to our side of the table.

“Fine . . . thank you.”

The waiter came over, and slashed Alanna's credit card through the machine. There were a few beeps and two copies of the receipt came out.

“Take your time,” our waiter said.

Alanna signed the copy of the receipt.

“In return, you know what you could do?” Alanna's lips curled into a smile. “You could give us your home address so we know where to mail the invite.”

“The invite to the wedding?” I asked.

“Of course, silly. What else would I be inviting you to?” Alanna took the customer copy of the receipt, flipped it over, and handed it to us with the pen.

I hesitated before writing down Miss Hatfield's address. I didn't want to imagine Alanna's face when we didn't respond to the wedding invitation. I hoped she would forget about us and not be too disappointed.

I handed Alanna the receipt without meeting Henley's eyes.

She happily pocketed it before standing up. “Shall we go?”

Our walk back was full of a comfortable silence. It wasn't too cold outside, just a chill breeze to get us to walk faster. Henley held my hand, and it swung while we walked together. I
noticed Peter matched Alanna's shorter strides as they walked. In a similar way, Henley matched my pace and our steps were in synch.

We paused in the lobby of the hostel, wondering if we were going to part ways there, but we remembered our rooms were in the same section of the hostel, so we walked down the hall together until we got to our room.

“Well . . . this is us,” Henley said.

We stopped, but neither Henley nor I moved to get our key. Alanna and Peter didn't move to continue down the hall either.

“If we don't happen to see you in the next couple of days, we really enjoyed meeting you and having you here with us,” I said.

Alanna took my hand. “This isn't good-bye. We'll definitely meet up again . . . Just on a different continent.”

I tried to look like I believed her. “We will.”

“And you'll be there for the wedding,” she said, as if trying to make it come true by sheer determination.

“You'll look beautiful on your big day,” I said before we unlocked the door and went in.

“They're such a nice couple. I can't wait to see them again,” I heard Alanna say before the door closed.