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Authors: Jessica Tornese

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BOOK: Linked Through Time
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I scanned the group for the boy, Dean, who was supposed to be my father. His gangly skinny body sat with folded hands, a thatch of brown hair covering his forehead and freckles dotting his cheeks. A scene flashed through my mind of a recent fight we’d had before the trip to Minnesota. I would take it all back now, if it meant leaving this hellish sentence I served, being stuck in the past. It was ironic, me playing the part of my Aunt Sarah. My entire life I had hated being compared to her, and now I
was
her. It was enough to make me want to throw up again.

I took the last available seat at the table, trying to figure out the “who’s who” of my temporary siblings. Rodney and Bobby were easy, as were the twins Laura and Linda in their highchairs. After running through the names and picturing their portraits from the stairway, I figured out Louise, Matthew, Patrick, Joyce, and Janice based on their size and recognizable features. It was funny how it all seemed so obvious now, what I had missed before. My father’s family wasn’t something you could quite ignore or forget.

I spooned several scoops of sugar onto my oatmeal, trying to make it edible while listening in on the conversations at the table.

Before I knew it, everyone had finished and disappeared through the door, leaving a stack of dirty dishes and two fussy toddlers. I felt sorry for whoever had to do the nasty, crusted pile of dishes. Offering the twins a spoon coated in sugar, I sat back to contemplate my next move.

Gran appeared from the pantry and took the twins from the room, hefting their chubby bodies, one in each arm, with little effort.

I sat at the table in a numb state. What was I supposed to do now? It’s not like there’s a list or anything. Maybe I could sneak upstairs for a nap.

As if reading my mind, Louise stumbled through the door hauling a five-gallon bucket of water. Some of the water sloshed to the floor, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Here,” she said, “I’ll go get the rinse water.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say, realizing the nasty crusted pile of dishes had been left for
me.
I eyed the bucket with curiosity. Now what? If I couldn’t do the simplest of chores, what would the family think then? There was no way I could pretend to be Sarah, but until I could figure out why I was there, I would have to muddle my way through.

If I served my sentence, then maybe the god of time travel would let me go home
.

I could only hope.

I plugged the sink with a rag and poured some of the cool well water into the reservoir on the wood stove. Waiting for the water to come to a boil, the little bubbles slowly forging their way to the surface, I let my mind wander, thinking about all the things I had heard about Sarah. Of course, I already knew I looked like her. But what about her personality? What about the details of her mysterious death?

Her death. The bare facts I learned as a child came to me all at once, weakening my knees. I grabbed the edge of the sink, the same nauseous, dizzy feeling from before overwhelming my senses.

If everything were true – if I had come back to the year 1960 and I really had taken the place of Sarah,
and
the family had just celebrated her fifteenth birthday last night… with all these things in place there was one thing I could know for sure. If I happened to be around in August, two months from now…. then I was supposed to die.

 

Chapter Four

The Bright Side?

 

The screen door to the porch screeched and slammed shut, startling me out of a dazed stupor. I turned from the sink and suppressed a gasp. The most beautiful boy I had ever seen was walking across the kitchen in my direction.

His ice blue eyes pierced me to my soul. I found myself entranced, as if everything around me had turned slow motion. It wasn’t possible, but I couldn’t help but feel as if I had seen these same distinct eyes before.

He was at my side in seconds, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a tight embrace. His lips brushed my cheek and I blushed, checking the room to make sure no one had seen. But everyone was gone. It was just me and this amazing boy… alone.

Without letting go, the boy murmured into my ear, “Sorry I missed your birthday yesterday. Dad made me close the store and by the time I got here, your mom said you’d had an accident and were in bed. Are you OK?” His voice, full of concern, tickled my ear and sent shivers down my back.

I could feel my cheeks go two shades darker than embarrassment, my tongue tied up to the roof of my mouth. I had never felt so flustered before, but then again, I had never had a boy so incredible speak to me before, let alone kiss me.

Louise entered the kitchen, saving me from an immediate reply. She carried another bucket, which she promptly dropped the moment she saw my visitor. Her eyes lit up and she ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. “Dave!” she called out.

He picked her up and swung her in a circle. “Hey, Louise! Brought something for you.” He pulled a small rectangle from his pocket.

“Bazooka bubble gum!” she shrieked, snatching it from his hand as if it were gold. “Thanks, Dave! I’m so glad you two are back together again,” she said, shooting a smug look in my direction.

I had no idea what she meant, but I couldn’t help but smile, watching the two of them. The face and name clicked together in my brain.
Dave. Dave Slater, Sarah’s old boyfriend.
I couldn’t believe my good fortune. Out of the whole bizarre mess, something good had to come from it, and I was looking right at it. Dave Slater was my
boyfriend
.

“I knew your sister would come around,” Dave said, as he chucked me lightly on the shoulder. His eyes held a serious tone to his playful nature, and I raised my eyebrows. What
was
their story, my aunt and Dave?

Taking in his rugged tanned features, I shivered. I thought he’d been good looking as an adult, but the younger version of Dave Slater was something else entirely. My stomach flip-flopped as the sparks of attraction zipped through my body. Dave reached over and smoothed my hair, tucking some loose strands behind my ear. The faint touch sent me reeling and I leaned back against the sink. Get a grip, Kate, I told myself. Don’t scare him away by acting all freakish.

Dave leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Do you think we could meet tonight, at our usual place?” Mischief twinkled in his eyes. “I have to give you your birthday present.” And then he winked at me so Louise wouldn’t see.

I looked between Louise and Dave, stalling my answer. I felt overwhelmed at the idea of meeting this boy for the first time, alone. It would be my first date with any boy… ever. “I don’t know. I… I guess so,” I managed to stutter. Dave’s mere presence had me all anxious and acting like an idiot. My mind whirred at a hundred miles an hour, already picturing what it would be like to hold his hand, touch his chest… “Are you sure you want to meet at the usual place?” I asked, hoping he would give me some sort of clue as to where to go.

“Sarah!”

Gran’s voice broke into my thoughts, breaking my hypnotic trance on Dave. I jumped away from him, a guilty blush warming my cheeks. I felt like I’d been caught doing something wrong. Could Gran read my thoughts?
I hoped not.

“Sarah,” he whispered hurriedly, “you know the only place we can meet is the rapids. I close the store at eight. I’ll be waiting for you.” He swept from the room before I could respond.

“Sarah! If you don’t get out here, I’m sending your brothers in to get you!” The stern warning came from the steps of the porch.

The feelings that rushed through my body were new and intoxicating. I felt light, weightless, as if I could walk on air. My heart felt as if it had swelled three sizes, filling my chest with an unnatural bliss that was so foreign to the sulky demeanor I’d adopted lately. I couldn’t care less about dishes and chores or peeing in an outhouse. Dad was right, for once. Every cloud did have a silver lining, and that lining was about six foot two with arms the size of culverts.

Hurrying from the kitchen, I was aware that the dishes remained untouched; the cream separator alone with at least fifty pieces to wash. I would probably be in trouble, but I couldn’t find a reason to care.

I raced out the door, springing over the three steps from the porch and landing gracefully in the spongy grass. Nothing could bring me down off this natural high. As much as I hated to describe what I was feeling in such a cliché fashion, words couldn’t have been more true: I had fallen in love at first sight.

 

* * * *

 

             
“You don’t know how lucky you are to date a senior,” Louise said. “You’re even luckier he took you back. Why did you break up with him anyway? Dave’s the cutest boy in the whole school. Maybe the whole world. I’ll bet he’s a great kisser.” She sighed. “I can’t wait to get my first kiss. Jimmy Walls tried to kiss me behind the bleachers at school, but I pushed him down. He’s no Dave.”
             

I knelt alongside Louise, dodging her incessant questions about Dave. The two of us had been sentenced to weeding the potato fields as a result of the unfinished dishes. The sun beat down relentlessly and my back ached from hunching over the rows of plants. It wasn’t even noon yet, and dark circles of sweat had soaked through my cotton T.

             
Watching Louise carefully, I made sure to pull out only the weeds instead of the actual plant, although the weeds and plants looked the same.

“How long do we have to do this?” I asked, discouraged by the sheer size of the field. Rows and rows of plants stretched for what seemed like miles in every direction. “Isn’t there some sort of child labor law in place?” I said, the joke going over Louise’s head. She had no sense of sarcasm.

             
“They’ll call us when lunch is ready. It’s your fault we’re out here anyway. Usually, Matthew, Pat and Dean have to do this part. Hey! You’re missing the bugs!” Louise pointed at a few tiny gray roly-poly bugs on the leaves of the plant in front of me. She picked them off and squeezed them between her fingers, their shells making a definite sickly crunch.

             
“My bad,” I said, turning my head in disgust. I have to weed and pick the bugs off? Gross. Why was everything so barbaric?

             
The sun was directly overhead when a sharp clanging sound came from the direction of the farmhouse. Louise sprang up and sprinted down the path, her bare feet kicking up dirt as she ran.

             
I sighed with relief. My fingernails were caked with the rich black soil and my shirt was completely soaked with sweat. I needed a shower and a massage. Holding the small of my back, I hobbled like an old woman across the fields toward the house. The closer I got, my thoughts turned from my aches and pains to my date that night with Dave.
A Senior!

There were so many things to worry about; mostly, how I was going to pull off my hardest performance yet. Could I pretend to be Sarah without him getting suspicious?
He mentioned a present, too, and I shivered with anticipation. A date with him was the perfect gift. Knowing my father wouldn’t approve of the date was like icing on the cake. I hadn’t been allowed to date back home, my father forever treating me like a baby. And now, I was doing the forbidden, which made the date all the more thrilling. Knowing he was that much older than me, I was positive Dave would want to do more than just kiss me on the cheek, and my face grew hot just thinking about it. My friends would be sick with jealousy!

             
Once again, I was the last to arrive for mealtime. The food vanished quickly and I barely had time to stab a slice of meat and potato from the table before it was gone. The room echoed with noisy chatter; I sat amidst the sea of clanging plates and raucousness, my mind still on the night ahead. What would I wear? What should I say?

             
Matthew slammed into my side, jolting me back to the present. He, Patrick, and Dean were jostling each other, fighting to reach the last slice of homemade bread. Plucking the piece from the table, I handed it to my father, the skinniest of the bunch. The other two boys groaned and pushed away from the table. Winking conspiratorially at my father, I slid the remainder of my plate in his direction. I felt sorry for his skin and bones physique, even though forty years from now, he turned out just fine.

             
Stretching to the ceiling, I gave a huge exaggerated yawn and sighed. “I think I’ll wash up after lunch… er, I mean, dinner. Those weeds kicked my butt,” I said trying to join the conversation.

             
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me like I had grown a second head.

             
Gran threw her hands into the air and made the sign of the cross on her chest. “Lord, give me patience,” she muttered.

             
“What? All I said is that I was going to take a bath. My back is killing me.”

             
At the table, Rodney growled in his throat and kicked his chair away from the table. “You want a bath, Miss High and Mighty? I’ll give you a bath.” Without another word, he grabbed me by the arm and swung me up over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

The rest of the children stood frozen, watching with curiosity.

             
Shrieking, I kicked my legs in protest. I beat my fists on his muscular back but he never flinched. Nobody at the table made an effort to stop him.

As we passed through the doorway, I made a vain attempt at grasping the doorframes, my fingers curled around the edges like claws.

             
Rodney pushed through the porch and out into the yard, heading straight for the pig’s pen.

             
“No!
No
! Anything but that!” I screeched, afraid of the hulking, filthy beasts behind the fence.

A few yards before the pen, Rodney stopped at the water pump and turned to the giant stock tank. Stagnant water with an oily film on top filled the giant barrel to the rim. Flies floated lifeless on the surface. Rodney lifted me effortlessly, pausing to let his intent sink in.

             
I opened my mouth to scream but closed it quickly as he launched me headfirst into the chilly water. I broke through the surface, sputtering and coughing on the water that poured from my nose. Hair clung to my cheeks in thick clumps. Flicking a fly from my arm in disgust, I bit my lip to keep from screaming.

Rodney stood next to the tank, hands on his hips and a smirk on his face.

“What was that for you, big Neanderthal?” I managed to choke out.

Rodney shook his head. “What the hell is the matter with you, Sarah? Just because you hit your head doesn’t mean you can act all stupid. Quit shirking your duties around here; we’re tired of picking up your slack. We’ve been doing it far too long.” His face clouded over and his eyebrows knit together as he thought. “I’ll tell Dave he’s not allowed to come over anymore if you can’t do your share,” he threatened.

I swallowed my retort and went for the apologetic route instead. “I’m sorry, Rodney. I’ll do better, I promise. I got so hot from weeding today; I just needed to cool off, is all.”

“Yeah, well, we’re all hot. If you get hot, go jump in the river. Baths are Saturday nights, and that’s it. You may not like the way we live, you’ve made that clear before, but you’re making Mom crazy and I won’t stand for it.”

Sitting in the stock tank, the water up to my shoulders, I processed the new information
. I couldn’t bathe until Saturday?
I waited until Rodney walked away before climbing from the giant barrel. Wringing my shirt onto the grass, I shivered in the warm afternoon sun. Everything seemed so… raw and primitive. I wished I had paid more attention to my dad’s stories about when he was a kid. I always thought he’d been exaggerating about not having water or shoes or a bathroom. Parents always told stories about how their life was harder, but I was beginning to realize how true the stories were.

Tripping across the drive in my soggy clothes I steered clear from Rodney, who was now tinkering under the hood of the family car. “Note to self, stay on Rodney’s good side,” I mumbled, intimidated by his brute strength and power.

“Pssst…” A voice hissed from under the criss-crossed limbs of apple trees in the farmyard. I turned to see Dean, my father…. er, brother. “What’s up Da… Dean?” I called to the boy hidden behind the many twisted trunks.

His thin face peeked out, shy and sincere. “I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for giving me the extra bread at dinner. Matthew and Patrick are always stealing my food,” he complained. “I know things have been bad for you lately, and since the accident, well… I just wanted to let you know I can help you if you need it.” My father’s expression was genuine and heartfelt, so understanding for such a little kid.

BOOK: Linked Through Time
12.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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