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My head was spinning with all kinds of questions. Did Dad help us subconsciously? Did I do it myself?
Yet I couldn't dwell on these concerns now. I had to help my father. I ran to the phone and dialed Mom at work. She didn't pick up her cell, so I called her office next.
“Dr. Blaine and Dr. Greene's office. Lavinia speaking. How can I help you?”
Lavinia had worked with my mother since before I was born. She had been the receptionist in Mom's old office, and then, when my mother partnered with Dr. Blaine, she came to work for them. “Lavinia, it's Corinne. Can you get my mom?”
“Oh, hello, Corinne. Is everything okay? She's with a patient.”
“No, everything's not okay. This is a really big emergency. It's my dad.”
“I'll get her.”
The few seconds that ticked by as I waited seemed to stretch on forever. When Mom came to the line, I almost vomited from the immense relief I felt. “Mom! Dad's hurt badly! Please, come here now!”
I wasn’t even jarred by my mother's appearance beside me the very next moment. I shuffled over to my bed where Dad lay breathing shallowly.
Mom drew in a gulp of air and advanced on him. “Oh, Julian! What happened?”
“He was in a fight. See, he took me back in time to sleep. We were on the frontier, he got beat up and robbed... Mom, he's so hurt...”
I don't know how much of my garbled speech made sense to her. She swept away his bangs, and a strange, wistful look came over her face. “It's just like when I saved him...”
Why wasn't she doing anything? “Mom?”
Shaking herself out of her daze, she set to examining him. Removing the bandages, she uttered, “Uh, Corinne? Where was he hurt?”
“Here!” I pointed at his forehead, but there was nothing there but some blood caked into his hairline. “Well, here on his chest...” But when Mom took off that bandage, there weren't any wounds either. Dried blood stained his white shirt, so he had been injured, but there wasn't a single cut or bruise.
“And what’s this?” Mom pulled the nightgown off Dad’s arm, and the skin was only slightly pink where the scalpel had pierced him.
My eyes opened wide, I couldn't quite comprehend... “Mom, I swear...he was...I don't...”
“You healed him, Corinne.”
“No, I...”
She removed his suit jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt. My father's chest did not have a scratch on it. “You healed him,” she repeated in a more upbeat tone. “You're a healer too. Not that I'm shocked, of course.”
I almost laughed. Being able to heal wounds wasn't shocking? And then again, if I could do this, then why wasn't Dad waking up?
Mom ran her hand down his face, her mind somewhere else again. “Come back, Julian,” she whispered. Leaving her finger on his cheek, she closed her eyes tightly. “He's...I don't know...I can see pictures, memories... But he's just... It's like he's sleeping a dreamless sleep.”
“Can't you heal him?”
“I tried. You did too. My guess is it's just taking longer for him to come out of it. I could call his father...”
“Grandpa Ron does this?”
“Why do you think he's such a good surgeon?” She made a half-grin.
“Call him!”
“I'll tell you what he's going to say. 'If Patricia can't do it, no one can.'” She attempted to sound calm and reassuring, but I could sense her underlying worry.
She dialed Grandpa Ron nonetheless, and implored him to stop by. He was with a patient, but he would come as soon as possible.
Mom sat down on the bed beside my father, grasping his hand tight. I reclined in my desk chair, observing in silence.
“You'll be fine, Julian,” she told him lovingly. “Or you know I'll save you again.”
Save him? What was this all about? Yet another secret? “You saved him?”
She sighed, turning toward me. “So many stories, all before your time...”
“Tell me.”
“I don't even know where to begin.”
“The beginning?”
She looked out the window, then took a deep breath. “Just like Jonas, your father was once murdered.”
“What?”
She gazed back outside for another moment and then turned to me. “Not everyone likes time travelers fooling around with history. And some people,” she did not seem like she wished to elaborate here, “wanted him stopped. They eventually did. Permanently.”
“Oh...Mom...” Dad had been murdered? The words sounded silly and unreal. How could anyone want to kill my father? He was fun and smart and... my father!
“I was still married to Jack when I heard. In fact, Jack was the one who found Julian's obituary in the paper. Then Grandma Robin, knowing my parents for years, came to me in my office and convinced me that I could save Julian.”
“And you did?”
“Well, you could say I was a very late bloomer. I had only just started to have weird things happening to me that turned out to be my abilities kicking in. But, like you, I didn't know that such things existed – and I was in my thirties already! My parents had never told me about what they could do.
“So I was skeptical, to say the least. After a lot of convincing from Robin, I finally forced myself to try it. And she had been right; I could time travel.” She smiled, holding her hand out to me. “And apparently so can you.”
“Mom, how do you know Dad didn't take us back?” I asked, but deep inside me I think I knew the answer.
“You think Dad is in any position to time travel?”
“Uh...”
She squeezed my hand. “I'm pretty sure it's you, and again, I'm not surprised. We'll check it out later. But if you are, you need to be careful, which is what I always warn you, but it’s truer now than ever. I'm sure there are still people out there who will not be happy if they knew more travelers are running around. Daniel better keep his mouth shut about it, too.”
Growing concerned and impatient with the wait, I blurted out, “So where is Grandpa Ron?”
“Here.”
I jumped at my grandfather's sudden arrival, and my mother started to laugh. “Your grandfather has always had perfect timing with that.”
Grandpa Ron grinned. The sunlight coming from the window gave him the effect of having an aura, which made me burst out, “I wasn't expecting Grandpa Ron to do any of this!”
“What, appear? That's just one little thing from my bag of tricks!” He winked at us. “So, what's my son got into now?” He walked over to my father and removed the sheet that covered him. “He looks okay to me, except of course for being unconscious.”
“Corinne saved him.”
Cocking his head to the side, Grandpa Ron raised an eyebrow.
“I think she's also a traveler, Ron.”
My grandfather's face creased into an awed smile. “You're sure?”
“Unless Dad did it in his sleep,” I mumbled uncomfortably. “It's possible, right?”
“Oh, please. Julian?” he swatted at his son. “You can't focus if you're unconscious. You'll end up who-knows-where. Julian went places in his sleep a couple of times when he first started traveling. He ended up in the Tower of London wearing his pajamas once.”
I giggled, and my mother drew a long face. “Is he okay?”
Grandpa Ron put his hand to Dad’s head, listening. “Well, yes. He's...there. Did you try to heal him?”
“Corinne healed his wounds.”
His jaw fell open. “She's a healer too?”
“Doesn't matter,” I said, and I meant it. “I couldn't wake him up. Neither could Mom.”
“Well, if Patricia can't, I can't.”
So Mom won that bet – he said exactly what she had predicted he'd say.
Grandpa Ron didn't seem terribly concerned about his son, so I had to assume emergencies such as this had cropped up before in my family's history. I did notice that my grandfather was valiantly fighting the urge to beam at me in pride, but he quickly pulled himself together. “Let's put all our energy into Julian, and then I'll try to get further into his head.”
We joined hands, and it felt stupid, like we were having some phony séance. But when my grandfather touched his fingertips to my father's head, I suddenly experienced a rush of emotion accompanied by unfamiliar pictures...
Such weird, disjointed images...soldiers, a ballroom full of dancers, castles, concentration camps... Grandpa Brian with a deadly grin on his face...an angry old man...
And the words... Names, places... “Anna”, “Wilhelm”, “Aldous”, “Hans”...
Dad was here, among the pictures... Don't look, Corinne, his voice emanated from the depths. I didn't understand how we were com-municating, but it didn't matter. He was alive, and he was in there.
Don't look at what? I asked.
My memories. The memories of a time traveler are even worse than those of a soldier who's been at war.
I would have thought they'd be amazing, Dad.
The horrors far outdo the wonders. What I've seen, what's been done...
Who are the names I heard?
My father's mind-voice was heavy with sorrow. People I saved, people I lost, people who hurt us...
This was getting too much for me. Dad, come back to us...
I'm coming, Corinne. I'm pushing through. I'm almost there.
Images... Soldiers getting shot in a battlefield, one lone red-headed nurse trying to help until she was shot down too...the blood...
Corinne, pull back!
Slaves being whipped and tortured and forced onto a ship, families being herded into a burning barn, Nazi soldiers ripping babies from their Jewish mothers and smashing their heads in...
“Oh, my God!” I screamed, wrenching my hand away. Tears flowed down my face, and I was shuddering uncontrollably. “Oh, God, oh, God, Dad...”
Grandpa Ron removed his hands from his son. “What's wrong? What is it?”
“It's...it's horrible in there! I can't...I can't...”
“You picked all of that up from holding my hand? Wow, I–”
I cut Grandpa Ron off completely. “Oh, no...Mom, do you have those kinds of memories too?”
Nodding sadly, my mother placed her arm around me. “Dad started traveling much earlier than I, so he's got plenty more, but I have my share. And because I've peeked into Dad's brain, well, I have his too.” She cringed. “Don't look. It's too much for you.”
“Are you okay, Corinne?” Grandpa Ron inquired. “I'm not sure how much you've seen, but...”
“I'm fine. I'll...be fine.”
But I wasn't sure if I would be. I knew all these atrocities had occurred throughout human history, but seeing them in essence firsthand was simply monstrous. The hideous images would probably never leave my head.
Grandpa Ron tapped his son's shoulder gently. “I've seen it all by looking into his memories. I wish I had known that you could too, Corinne. I would have warned you.” He hung his head, stroking his son's hair. “Come back to us, Julian,” he murmured. “We need you.”
“He's coming,” I said almost conversationally.
Grandpa Ron studied me closely. “How do you know? Could you actually communicate with him?”
Right on cue, Dad began to stir. When he opened his eyes, he beckoned to my mom.
“Patricia,” he said lovingly. “This time our daughter saved me.”
“You didn't bring us back, Dad?”
But he shook his head “no” even before I finished my sentence. “I've never traveled in my sleep since the Tower of London episode. That was decades ago.”
“She's a time traveler,” my mother replied.
***
SCHOOL HAD STARTED hours ago. I asked my parents if I could try to travel back to when it started. Despite what Dad had mentioned about changing things, how harmful could it be if I was suddenly not absent anymore?
“Oh, here we go,” Grandpa Ron smiled. “Maybe you wait on the traveling until your parents talk to you about it.”
“I’m feeling much better. I'll take you,” Dad said, shrugging his shoulders. “I hate to do it, but it shouldn’t change much. It's safer than what we did before, at least.”
Mom grew livid. “Yes, I have to say, Julian...You took her back to the Old West to sleep? Really?”
Dad sat up in the bed, looking guilty. “Yes?”
“Julian...just...” My mother shook her head in annoyance. “I have to see my patients. I might need to travel back a bit now too, thanks to Father Time here.” Mom disappeared. Dad winced.
“Father Time. I like that,” my grandfather chuckled. “Corinne, will you be alright?”
Dad's memories were still in my brain, but I was desperately trying to push them into a dark corner where I could lock them up. “I'll be okay,” I said unconvincingly.
Grandpa Ron reached toward my head. “I can help you blur them a bit.”
I wasn't sure how he would do that, but I attempted to be brave. “I'm fine.”
He was gazing fixedly at me. “I'm here to help. Remember.”
“I know,” I replied. I was fine. I'd be totally fine.
“Thanks for everything, Dad,” my father said, casting me a worried glance.
“Get her back to school, Julian. And don't change history in the process.” Grandpa Ron vanished without further comment.
***
DAD TOOK ME BACK TO the beginning of the school day, even though, as he mentioned, we were changing history slightly by doing so. “The original history is that you're absent. Now you're not. We just have to hope that didn't result in some war or catastrophe further down the line.”
I frowned. “I doubt that, Dad.”
“And listen, I know it's exciting finding out you're a traveler, but please, I beg you. Don 't go anywhere until after we talk to you. Just wait until we're home tonight, okay?”
Now that Dad was safe and had I learned of my own ability, my low opinion of time travel had changed. How was I not to try it out? History stretched before me! But after my 1860s experience plus the new memories that haunted me, I was nervous. The best thing to do was wait.
“I promise. Thanks for the ride, Dad.” Okay, it wasn't quite a ride. He'd teleported me to the woods by the school.
“See you in the future!” He was gone, and it was all I could do to force myself into the dreary school building.