It wasn’t until Elizabeth got home that afternoon that she realized that she and Steve hadn’t solved their problems at all. Everything remained the same; they were both still forbidden to go to the graveyard. What would they do? Could they continue to sneak away to meet? And how long would it be before her mother discovered that she wasn’t skiing with Janice on Sunday afternoons? What would happen when Joan Connell found out that her ban on Elizabeth’s visits to the graveyard hadn’t been obeyed?
Elizabeth had no answers and neither had Steve. Next Sunday, when she took him the prescription of antibiotics, they would have to talk about it. Maybe by then something would change and they could find a solution to their dilemma.
She and Janice skied after school on Wednesday, then went over to the restaurant for hot chocolate. Joan Connell could hardly contain her pleasure at seeing the two of them together. “Well, Janice, it’s so nice to see you again.”
Janice mumbled something that could have been a reply and stared intently at the table top.
“I’m so glad you two are getting on well together. Wasn’t Sunday a lovely day for skiing? Elizabeth tells me that the two of you had such a good time.”
For once, Elizabeth was glad of Janice’s awkward shyness. Although she was obviously puzzled by the reference to Sunday, she couldn’t gather the courage to say that she hadn’t seen Elizabeth at all last week-end.
“Mom, can we have our hot chocolate, please?” Elizabeth said. “It’s cold out there, and we’re freezing!”
“Sure.” Joan Connell bustled away, still smiling, and returned with the steaming mugs and two large orders of french fries as well. “Now don’t worry about the calories, girls,” she said. “After all that exercise you’re entitled to a little extra. Besides, it’s on the house.”
Elizabeth blushed with embarrassment. Poor Janice had enough trouble with her weight without having all those fattening chips added to her diet. “Really, Mom . . ..” she began, but her mother kept right on talking.
“Come on now, eat up. They won’t hurt you a bit. And Janice, I do believe you’ve lost some weight!”
This time Janice blushed, too. Far from losing, she had gained obviously in the last few months and was painfully aware of it.
“Thanks,” she managed to blurt out before reaching for the fries. Mortified by her mother’s lack of tact, Elizabeth sat morosely and nibbled at her food. She couldn’t find the energy to talk to Janice, and Janice seldom spoke unless someone asked her a question. The trip to the restaurant was a disaster, but Elizabeth wanted her mother to see that Janice was with her.
Now that Mom sees us together, she’ll believe me when I tell her that Janice and I are going skiing next Sunday, she thought. How many times can I get away with this!
But Joan Connell raised no objections on Sunday when Elizabeth announced that she and Janice were going skiing. “It’s good for you to have a friend, Elizabeth, even if Janice is a less-than-fascinating conversationalist. Go ahead and have a good time.”
An hour later, with the stolen bottle of tetracycline in her jacket pocket and her skis and poles resting against a tree by the graveyard gate, Elizabeth followed the footprints that led to her special spot in the cemetery. (She was now a fairly accomplished skier and could manage the long uphill climb of the graveyard trail with her skis on.)
Checking to make sure that she still had the pills, she turned the ring, shut her eyes momentarily while the sick feeling passed, and then was back in the old 1870 cemetery.
Steve was not there.
Puzzled, she looked around for him. He had never been late before. Usually he was there well before two o’clock and was waiting for her when she emerged from her time. But today the graveyard was empty except for the usual collection of chickadees who were scolding her noisily for disturbing them.
She spread the small thermal blanket in the hollow of snow that Steve had scooped out the week before, sat down, and waited. The graveyard was deserted, but in the distance she could hear an occasional sound drifting up from Barkerville. The chickadees hopped and fluttered from bush to bush, scattering small clumps of snow from the branches as they did so. Although it was warm, just below freezing, the sky was overcast. The shortened tombstones with their lopsided caps of snow cast no shadows, but seemed to fade into the bleak landscape until they were nothing more than unidentifiable grey lumps.
She waited. Steve did not arrive. She checked her watch. It was after three. Perhaps he wasn’t coming today. But he promised to meet her, promised to try her ’magic medicine from the future’ even though he’d teased her gently about it.
Maybe she had the wrong day? No, she’d said she’d be back in one week. Today was Sunday, December 21. It was the right day.
She stood up. He wasn’t coming, and she might as well go home. It would begin to get dark soon, and she had to get home before the light faded entirely. She should leave now and come back next Sunday.
As she was about to turn the ring, a horrible thought occurred to her. Perhaps Steve was too ill to come today. He’d been coughing dreadfully last Sunday; maybe he’d become worse during the week. If only he’d managed to get to the cemetery so she could have given him the pills!
But, if Steve were too sick to come to her, to get the medicine that would help him, then he must be very ill. He had promised to be here today, and he badly needed the antibiotic. If he couldn’t come to her, then she would have to go to him.
She was frightened. The only other time she had tried to leave the graveyard she had almost disappeared. What would happen if she went all the way into Barkerville? Would she disappear entirely? And, if she didn’t disappear, what would happen if someone else saw her? With her short ski trousers, thick wool socks, and oddly shaped boots she didn’t look as if she belonged in Barkerville in 1870.
Elizabeth thought hard. It was beginning to get dark. She would have to make up her mind — either return home right now, or go into Barkerville, try to find Steve’s home and give him the tetracycline.
Then she decided. As much as it frightened her, she would have to find Steve. Taking a deep breath, she left the graveyard and started down the trail to Barkerville.
The trail seemed wider than it was in 1980, and the snow had been packed down so that walking was easier. She met no one all the way down the hill. By the time she reached the bottom of the graveyard trail and turned towards the town, she could not see her hands, or her feet, or any part of her body.
Although she had been expecting this, it was still frightening. Nervously, she had watched her body become more and more transparent, until it disappeared entirely. Not seeing her feet bothered her more than anything else. They were there because she could feel them, feel the crisp snow beneath the soles of her boots. But when she looked down she could see only the packed snow. After she stumbled once or twice, she decided not to look down at all. Her feet were there and were quite capable of carrying her without being checked on every few seconds.
She left no footprints, cast no shadow, but she was there. She could feel her face, her hands, the texture of her jacket, but she couldn’t see herself. Except for the ring. It floated along beside her, real and solid and in no way ghostlike. She knew it wasn’t really floating; she could feel it on her hand, but not being able to see her hand made the ring look as if it were suspended in thin air, moving jerkily along as she swung her arms.
I guess the ring truly belongs to both times, she thought. Because it’s a part of 1870, it hasn’t disappeared. I’m not part of this time — neither are my clothes — so we just aren’t here. Perhaps it’s a way of making sure that I can’t do any harm to the past or change anything that might affect the future.
Then an upsetting thought struck her. The only other time she had left the graveyard, Steve had tried to take her nearly invisible hand to help her back up the trail. He hadn’t been able to do it. His hand had passed right through hers as if she were a reflection in a pool of water. If he hadn’t been able to feel her, would he be able to see, to touch and swallow the pills she had brought?
She pulled the bottle of tetracycline capsules out of her pocket. She could hear them rattling around in their plastic container, she could feel the container in her hand, but when she brought it up in front of her eyes she could see nothing.
The pills were from the future, too, and had no place in old Barkerville. Steve would not be able to see them — or swallow them. They would do him no more good than a mouthful of air.
Oh, no! They’re useless. Useless! I can’t help him at all! Angrily, she threw the bottle away. She heard the pills rattle as the bottle tumbled through the air, and waited for the sound of the invisible container hitting the ground.
She heard nothing. Puzzled, she kicked at the snow where the bottle should have landed. There was nothing there, nothing at all.
Oh, great! This is ridiculous! Invisible pills that disappear in mid-air — wouldn’t Dr. Fendell love that! I wonder how he’d explain it — my subconscious mind again!
She walked on, wondering what had happened to the pills. She had felt them in her hand, but when she threw them they vanished. Maybe they went back to 1980. I know it’s the ring that pulls me through time. Maybe once the pills lost contact with me and with the ring, they went back into the future. I’ll look for them on my way home.
But she couldn’t do that. It was getting darker every minute. She wouldn’t be able to see the trail on her way back. How would she manage skiing the eight kilometers home in the dark?
Well, she couldn’t worry about that now. Having come this far, having almost adjusted herself to the weird sensation of being invisible, she was going to go on — on to Barkerville and Steve. The antibiotic couldn’t help him, but she had to see him, just to make sure he was all right. When she wasn’t back by dinner time her mother would get hold of Janice and find out that they hadn’t been skiing together. Then she’d know where Elizabeth was, and would either come to the graveyard herself or send the Judge to bring her home. All she had to do was to get back to the cemetery, and someone would be there waiting to take her home.
It wouldn’t be pleasant. She had lied and broken promises and now her mother would do a much more thorough job of grounding her, but she had to see Steve. At least for a little while. And she wouldn’t worry about what happened afterwards.
Ahead of her she could see Barkerville. She touched her face, making sure that she was still solid, at least to herself, and walked into the old town.