The Navigators (33 page)

Maybe she was right about the machine.

Pain and humiliation swept through me. “Why did you make me come here?”

“I needed help getting rid of this thing.”

“You could have gotten somebody else. Why me? Why did I have to be present for its destruction?”

“So you’d know. So you wouldn’t chase around the rest of your life looking for it.”

I found myself panting hard, like I had been holding my breath for a long time. “It doesn’t have to be evil.”

“What?”

“The machine. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We were too ambitious. We should have taken smaller steps. Or tried to change something bad that happened.” I glanced at her. “We should have done something noble.”

She stood there, shaking her head.

“I want us to use what we found before we throw it away forever. It’s the chance of a lifetime. Maybe we could change things.”

“We might be able to do something but that doesn’t mean we should. Fate might not be very forgiving if we do.”

“Fate? You mean God. And why would we be given the intelligence to find this thing and not use it?”

“We can kill a person with a gun that somebody was intelligent enough to build. That doesn’t mean we should do it.”

“I just… don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try.”

“Oh, you just want your money! I thought we were past that.”

“You’re past it!” I pointed at her. “You’re not getting deported tomorrow morning. You don’t have a life of shame and humiliation waiting for you the way I do.” I gasped. “You have money and a respected family name. What if you didn’t? I’m not making excuses. I did some bad things and I deserve what’s coming to me.”

I stared at the ground. “But do I deserve my whole life to be ruined forever? Yours won’t be. Barry’s won’t be.” I sighed, looking up at her. “Friends help each other, don’t they?”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Everything we tried caused something bad to happen, Peeky.”

“So we adjust. We don’t throw it all away. We’re scientists. We make mistakes, but we learn from them. Early doctors had way more failures than they did successes. Leeches and bleeding people—but they built on those failures and created a world where they’ve saved millions of lives.”

I lowered my voice, looking into her eyes. “We have that opportunity. We just start small. Safe.” I turned to the machine, putting my hands on the rail frame. “There’s enough fuel for a trip like that. Two short trips, maybe.” I glanced over my shoulder at her. “One for you, then one for me. We could achieve something great. We could right a wrong.”

She folded her arms like she was hugging herself, shaking her head but staring at the machine. “We’d be playing God, changing things that have already happened.”

“Or would we be thwarting His will by
not
fixing something that was within our grasp?” Now was my chance. “Isn’t there something you’d like to change about the past?”

Melissa glared at me, her eyes filled with fear. “You don’t speak for God.”

“Neither of us does. What if this was put here for us to use to fix things? To change a terrible situation that had happened to one of us?” I held my breath, assessing her reaction. “What if you could change things—and save her?”

Melissa recoiled in horror. “Don’t do that! Don’t put me in a position to save my mother’s life and not do it!” She fell to her knees. “It’s wrong somehow. Haven’t the trips showed us that?” She eyed the time machine. “It has brought nothing but bad things into our lives, and you want me to go back and use it on my family?” Tears ran down her face.

“But what if-”

Her words were choked with emotion. “But what if it didn’t? What if the drunk driver kills both of them next time? They always jogged together, but Dad stayed behind to take a business call. He would have been with her.” She looked up at me. “I could have lost both of them.”

Melissa shook her head as tears spilled down her cheeks. “We were all chopping up vegetables, the three of us. To make chili for some big football game. It was our first home cooked meal in the remodeled kitchen.” Her voice drifted off. “It had to cook for a long time, like three hours. So they decided to go out for a jog, but the phone rang.” She swallowed. “Dad took the call and mom went out jogging by herself. I… never saw her again.”

I knelt down next to her. “Let me help you see your mother. Then we can talk about maybe helping me. What do you say?” I leaned into her line of sight, making her look at me. “Aren’t you curious? Haven’t you wanted to try? When we were in Barry’s apartment and we were all sitting around talking about time travel, didn’t it cross your mind?”

“What if God punishes me for doing something I shouldn’t do?”

I sat back. “I think you’ve been punished enough by losing your mother when you were just a child. Maybe this is a way of getting a second chance. Everybody deserves one.”

She burst into tears again. “I’m afraid.”

“I know you are.”

She stayed there, staring at the mud, unsure of what to do.

“Maybe we could pick someplace safe instead. Just-”

She snorted through her tears. “Safe? Like what? A police station? A meadow full of flowers?”

I smiled. “A place where you don’t get beaten up by the Roman guard.”

“Or eaten by a T-Rex.”

I was relieved at her comment. I was happy to see the raw emotions had passed. My opportunity might present itself yet.

Melissa spoke quietly. “The safest I ever felt in my life was at the beach that day, making sand castles.”

“Let’s do that. Go there. It’s safe.” My opportunity was suddenly within reach again. “Give me the location and date. I’ll set the coordinates on the time machine by using the truck’s GPS.”

She shook her head, turning away. “I- I can’t. I’d be afraid to… ruin it.”

I nodded. “Then don’t go to the beach. Go to the other place.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

T
wo papers.

Two destinations.

I sat in the truck looking at what I’d written on pages from a dusty, yellowed notepad. One held the coordinates for Melissa’s safe trip, the family outing at the beach.

The other was for the accident that killed her mother.

The happiest and saddest days of her life were separated by two weeks and about twenty miles.

I dropped the pen back into the glove compartment and slammed it shut. As I walked back up the muddy hill, I stuffed the two notes into my pocket—next to a third one, for me. The one I’d written out years ago, for the stock exchange and New York City.

Life is full of difficult choices.

* * * * *

“How about a cold one?”

Carter Garrett glanced up at the clock on the wall. Nearly six o’clock. It would be getting dark soon.

Damned daylight savings time.

“Thanks, I’ll pass.”

His brother looked over at him. “You ruined my joke. You’re supposed to say ‘yes,’ and then I’m supposed to say ‘grab me one while you’re up.’” Bobby craned his neck to see Carter’s empty hands. “What, are you not drinking today?”

“I’m drinking.” Carter leaned back into the recliner. “I’m just not getting drunk.”

“Boys, how are we fixed for beer?” Randy rolled off the couch and went to the refrigerator. Everybody else had been throwing them back pretty hard, but so far Carter had hardly imbibed. It was early, and the big game was coming on, so he was pacing himself. He wanted to stay awake through the whole game even if his friends didn’t. Too many of these annual rivalries had come down to a last minute field goal.

“Carter, we got about twelve beers for the rest of the night. Is that gonna be enough?”

“Twelve?” He sighed. “No, not with the rest of the guys coming over.”

Bobby picked up a chicken wing from the foil carry out platter on coffee table. “Well, why didn’t you buy more?”

“Two cases should have been enough.” Carter hooked a thumb at Randy “– if you hadn’t brought your hollow-leg friend.”

Bobby smiled through a mouthful of chicken wing. “You want me to run out and get more?”

“No, I’ll do it.” Carter got up from the chair. “You’ve had too much already. I’ve only had two beers since lunch.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” He grabbed his keys off the hook. “Be back in a few minutes.”

* * * * *

Madison Mills threw the last of the peppers onto the big pot and covered it with the lid. She stepped back from the granite counters of her newly remodeled kitchen.

“Okay, Missy.” She turned to her daughter, who was engrossed in a teen magazine. “This needs to cook for a while, so don’t touch it.’

“Got it.” Came the halfhearted reply from the living room sofa.

Maddie bent over, watching the gas flame as she adjusted it. “You’re in charge of the kitchen. Keep an eye on that pot.” She did a little more fine tuning of the flame, not quite comfortable with it yet.

“Good golly.” Her husband reached over and grabbed a handful of her rear end through the shiny black Spandex. He hugged her from behind, whispering. “How am I supposed to think about going jogging if you’re being all sexy like that?” He nuzzled her ear.

She grinned. “Sexy like what? This is a t shirt and leggings.”

“Yeah, but I know what’s underneath—or
not
underneath.” He pulled out her waistband. “Oh, God. Now I really can’t run.”

She gave him a quick kiss. “There will be plenty of time for that when we get back. Now come on.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The phone rang. Melissa jumped on it. Then she voiced her disappointment without looking up. “Dad, it’s for you.”

He adjusted his crotch, gazing at his wife. “Good thing. I’d get arrested trying to go out like this.”

“Okay, well, I’m heading out.”

He picked up the extension. “I’ll catch up. Which way are you heading?’’

“My usual route. Through the S turns.”

“Okay.” He put the phone to his ear, then cupped his hand over the mouthpiece. “Hey, be careful. That’s still under construction and it’s getting dark-”

She had already disappeared out the door.

* * * * *

“Carter, you going to Winn Dixie or the 7-11?” Bobby leaned out the door.

“I’m just running up to 7-11.” He placed his hand on the roof of his car. “Why?”

“We could use some more wings.”

“Winn Dixie doesn’t sell wings.” Carter opened the door and got inside.

“No, but Hooters is right past it.”

He shook his head. “Okay, fine. Call it in.” He shut the door and started the engine.

* * * * *

Maddie was an elegant runner. Her long legs took graceful strides as she rounded the driveway and headed into the street. She never liked stretching, preferring instead to just jump right into the run.

Michael, on the other hand, would stretch—which she knew was better—but he took too long. Sometimes she thought he stretched just to postpone the run. But he ran faster than her, so if he didn’t goof off too long—and if he didn’t talk all day on the phone—he might catch up before she was finished with her two miles.

He fussed too much anyway. Run facing traffic. Wear light colored clothes. Don’t wear your Walkman, you can’t hear cars coming up behind you. Too many rules. The road was meant to be run on. Cars were always gracious as they passed.

It was her neighborhood. She had been running through it for years. She could do it in her sleep.

The S turns were about halfway through the run. They had been under repair for over a week as contractors redid the sidewalks under some old oak trees. Grand oaks, the city called them, so nobody was allowed to cut them down. Instead, they’d just replace the sidewalks every few years when the trees’ roots cracked it all again.

As she weaved her way through the turns, her gray t-shirt began to show signs of sweat. It was still hot out for this time of year. She debated about taking a longer way back. The chili wouldn’t be ready for hours, and Michael wouldn’t be off the phone for a while if it was business—the only kind of call he ever got. Still, she decided against it, knowing how disappointed he’d be if she went another way and he didn’t catch her on his run.

She adjusted her earphones and turned up the volume, bounding off into the setting sun with her favorite tunes blaring.

* * * * *

“Are you ready?”

Melissa looked out at me from the seat of the time machine. “Maybe.” She repositioned herself. “Is this going to hurt?”

“Barry said he had to hold his ears, so do that. And when it gets close to going, close your eyes really tight.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

There were two destinations I had written down for her, but only one had been dialed into the machine. The other went back into my pocket.

“I think you made the right decision.” I gave her a thumbs up. “I think if I were you, I’d be doing this trip. It’s the right thing to do.”

“It better be.” She took another deep breath and closed her eyes. “I hope I’m making the right decision.”

“Okay, here we go. Lever one.”

In the near darkness, I watched as she pushed the first long handle into place with a click.

“Lever two.”

I backed up a little, checking around for something I could hide behind. There was nothing.

As she engaged the final gears, the familiar whirring noise began. I covered my ears.

She looked out at me again. She was saying something.

“What?”

“Peeky, I’m scared.”

“You’ll be fine.”

The noise grew louder.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me. Hurry!”

I shook my head. “We’ve never done that before. And there’s no room.”

The whirring reached a deafening pitch. Her eyes pleaded with me. She patted her lap. I saw her mouth form the words “Come on.”

I only hesitated for a moment. The noise was at its peak. In a second the machine would take its trip.

But my friend needed my help.

So I squeezed into the machine and sat on her lap, grabbing the frame and holding on as tightly as I could.

Then there was a brilliant flash.

* * * * *

The noise of the machine was almost as bad riding in it as it had been when we first tested it. Luckily, being outside, the noise was able to go somewhere instead of bouncing off Barry’s apartment walls, so it wasn’t as overwhelming.

I lifted myself off of Melissa’s lap and climbed out. “Another first. A two person trip.” I looked around. “Where are we?”

She stood up. “Oh my gosh, we’re right near my house. Look at all this! It’s so different. It’s all… so
new
.” She glanced around. “We must have gotten the coordinates wrong a little. My house is a few blocks away. Those are the S turns over there. I forgot they were under construction at the time.”

She grabbed my arm. “She should be coming by here any minute. What should I do?”

I patted her hand. “Relax. Just do what we talked about. When you see your mother, call out to her and have her get out of the way of the car. That’s all you need to do.”

“Okay.” Melissa took a deep breath. “Keep your eyes open. She was running in black leggings and a gray t-shirt.”

I gazed at the sky. “She better hurry. It’s getting dark.”

“I’m so nervous. I don’t know exactly what time it happened.”

“But it happened here? On these turns?”

She pointed. “Right there, under those oak trees. Where they have the flashing construction lights.” She inhaled deeply, flinging her hands like she was shaking water from them. “Okay. Okay. I’m ready. I need to go over there.”

“Okay. Go. Do you want me to come with you?”

She looked at the S turn. The corners were too sharp to see around in both directions. “No. You stay here and watch for her coming that way.”

“Got it.”

* * * * *

The smell of spicy wings perfumed the inside of Carter’s car in a way that only a hungry man can appreciate. He’d procured more beer and would be back in time for kickoff.

The boys would be happy.

Mostly, Carter would be happy. Hooters had been slammed—game day—but Winn Dixie was practically empty. He’d made good time.

Now the excitement of the big game was in the air. He pushed the accelerator a little harder as he neared the S turns.

Accelerate through the turn, baby. Just like on NASCAR.

* * * * *

“Do you see anything?”

Melissa had traveled about a hundred yards toward the S turns. I didn’t see anyone, but it was getting dark. People would be harder to see. “Not yet.”

“Okay. Keep your eyes open.” She walked a little further.

We didn’t know if we were early or late, so we didn’t know which way to be looking. But we knew a woman would be jogging, and we knew a car would be coming.

The light from the sunset had faded and darkness was approaching. Gray and black would soon be hard to pick out in this light. I squinted past the trees where the yellow construction flashers were. Melissa walked further, peeking around the corner.

I turned back to the other side of the corner. In the distance, an elegant form appeared. It moved in long strides, graceful as a deer.

It was her. Gray t-shirt, black leggings, Walkman. Melissa’s mother.

I turned, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Melissa! She’s coming.”

Melissa’s head whipped around. She sprinted toward me.

Melissa’s mother moved at a good pace, facing traffic for safety as she ran. I watched her coming from the other side of the road, stepping back into the grass. Melissa would be in time. My heart swelled. A tragedy would be avoided.

Melissa yelled wildly as she ran. She bolted down the middle of road, unable to contain herself.

Lights illuminated the scene behind her. An oncoming car.

Melissa looked down at herself. She was clad in blue jeans and a dark top. She peeked over her shoulder as the car made the turn. She hesitated, slowing as she raised her hands to block the glare of the oncoming headlights.

She was right in the middle of the street.

The headlights jerked suddenly, swerving off the road to avoid her. Melissa threw herself in the other direction, barely avoiding getting hit.

Mrs. Mills moved to get out of the way but the oncoming vehicle moved faster. The car collided with her, wrapping her body around the grill. Her hands tried to brace her head as it slammed into the hood. Then she bounced away, flying backwards like a toy.

The headlights bounced up and down as Carter Garrett’s car hit the base of the grand oak and stopped. He sagged in his seat, unconscious.