Five

 

 

Stepping onto the wooden sidewalk from the earthen road, she hesitated for a moment and turned back to contemplate where she had just been. Horses, tied to the wooden railings of the overhang on the adobe building, were fully saddled with blankets and leather bags; even a canteen was slung over one saddle's horn. Her eyes darted back out to the road, in a last attempt to witness anything that looked remotely modern. She could see many people walking around, looking into shop windows and talking in the street. There were women with shawls, much like the one she wore, some with thin blankets over their heads shading them from the intense morning sun. Across the street an elegantly clad gentleman in a very old-fashioned suit stepped out of a horse-drawn black carriage. She watched as he held out his hand and assisted a woman from the coach. A lace parasol popped open, and the woman swung it over her shoulder as she glanced toward Casey.

She refused to be drawn into this historical seduction, as she had better things to attend to at the moment. Like finding someone sane… not someone trying to re-create the past by wearing a Victorian-styled, high-collar costume dress of deep maroon velvet and lace. Jeez, the guy with the woman had even donned a silk top hat. It was a quiet and very peaceful scene. Everyone seemed content to be where they were. Everyone except her.

Suddenly a sense of outrage rushed through her whole body. She stamped the cold, hard wood with her foot. This just wasn't happening. Casey O'Reilly isn't buying this whole scene, she reassured herself. "I'm gonna get some answers right now!" she blurted aloud.

Just then, she noticed an elderly Hispanic man with a colorful poncho, and she watched him prod a heavily laden burro with a gnarled stick. Even with her limited Spanish, Casey could tell he was cursing at the poor creature's refusal to move.

Leaving them to their struggle, she turned away and glanced up at the words painted above the door facing her. Santa Fe Jail House. Perfect. She pulled up on the rusty latch of the iron-barred door.

The place was dark and dingy and had such an overpowering musky odor to it that Casey wanted to draw the shawl over her nose to block it. Instead, she took a deep breath through her mouth as she noticed a heavyset man sitting with his boots up on a badly scarred wooden desk, reviewing some papers. When he saw her, he immediately slipped his feet off the desk and stood up. That was when she saw he had also been eating something.

"What's yer problem señorita?" he asked in a gruff voice as his hands came to rest on his hips. He, too, was dressed in old-fashioned clothes. "One of them cowboys botherin' ya?" he demanded, carelessly tossing the papers down onto the desk, inches from a smelly burrito.

She noticed he didn't smile. In fact, he appeared highly annoyed that she had interrupted his meal. Casey decided to smile first. After all, she needed this man. He was an authority, though as she glanced around the place, her heart skipped a beat. This didn't look like a modern police station at all. In fact, it looked like it could be a western movie set, with rifles openly displayed on the wall next to a large map of the New Mexico Territory and three empty, though grimy, jail cells with actual iron bars that were rusting.

"Hey!" the man nearly yelled. "You speak English, don'tcha?"

Startled, Casey jerked her attention back to the man and smiled even more nervously. "Yes, I'm sorry, sir. I… I need your help. You see, I'm sort of lost and I need to find my sister."

"Lost, huh?" the man repeated, as he walked over to a broom in the corner and broke off a piece of straw.

She couldn't believe it as he actually used the thing to pick at his teeth!

"Ah, yes," she answered, trying not to watch him, yet she couldn't stop the shudder as the man seemed to dislodge some food and suck it further into his mouth. "My car had a flat yesterday and I got a ride into Santa Fe, but now I have to find my sister and I'm wondering if anyone filed a missing-person report," she hurried to explain before she backed away from the man. "Her name is Amy Maddigan and—"

"Whose name?" the man demanded as he flicked the straw onto the filthy floor.

Wincing, Casey took another deep breath to steady her nerves. "That's my sister. Like I said, I had a flat yesterday and—"

"Flat what?"

She blinked. "A flat tire… on my car."

It was his turn to blink at her. "Whatcha talkin' about, little lady? Car? Railcar?"

"What?"

"You tell me."

She shook her head in dismay. "Look, I need to contract the proper authorities and locate my sister. I mean, this place is quaint and everything, and I know this must sound crazy to you, but I want to get back to modern civilization. May I use your phone to call her? I know she'll come and get me."

"Phone?" The man scratched his oily hair. "What d'ya mean?"

Once more she looked around the place. There were wanted posters tacked to the walls, with drawings of faces and amounts of money in bold print. She couldn't find a phone or anything else that would indicate modern communication. Quickly bringing her attention back to the man in front of her, she felt her heart begin slamming into her rib cage with fear. "You wouldn't happen to have a fax or…"

Her words ceased as the man closed the short distance between them and stared into her eyes. He sniffed her suspiciously before saying, "You been drinking with them cowboys? What they been fillin' yer head with, huh?"

He smelled of sweat and onions and something else that she wasn't about to distinguish. She squared her shoulders and glared at the man, even though she could never remember being this scared in her life! Why, wasn't there anything modern, anywhere? "I have not been drinking," she insisted, insulted by the question. She was not drunk and she was not crazy! "I happen to know this is the year 2000 and I am simply trying to find my sister."

He pulled the upper part of his body away from her, as though she'd shocked him. "Maybe you need to sleep it off, little lady, until you come to your senses. This ain't no year 2000," he added with a laugh as he walked to one of the jail cells and opened a door as though in invitation.

She listened to the squeak of metal and it was like nails running over a blackboard. Shivers raced down her back and she tightened the shawl around her. "No, thank you," she muttered, trying to disguise the fear that threatened to overwhelm her as she backed up to the door. A few more feet and she would be outside. It couldn't be possible! No one was normal here! No one!

Seconds later, she was stunned as she escaped the tiny building. She tried to make her mind work, to think with some semblance of clarity, yet only one thought twirled around in her head…

She had traveled back in time!

There could be no other answer. Either that or every person around her was completely crazy. Maybe it was her. Maybe when she was hit by lightning something happened to her brain. In any case, there was no modern-day police station with telephones and computers… there were no missing-person reports, only wanted: dead or alive posters like the ones hanging on the marshal's dingy office walls. She didn't want to believe she could be dreaming all of it so vividly. Maybe the electrical shock had caused her to have some sort of delusional breakdown and she was just seeing things… things that couldn't be explained… like every single person acting and dressing as though they lived over a hundred years ago, insisting she was in the year 1878!

How can this be? Where am I? Am I still me? Where is my sister? Does Amy exist now? Where is now? Her head began to pound as the thoughts flew around her mind like a raging twister and she thought it might actually explode from the pressure.

"Señorita!"

She heard the urgent cry and turned to see Rosalinda huddled against the side of the building. Blinking, she stared at the teenager. What was real?

"Señorita Casey… come! We must hurry back now or we shall be discovered missing!" The girl's expression showed her worry.

She couldn't move. Her feet refused to follow her command. She was frozen in fear. How had such a thing happened, and why to her? She needed to make sense out of it, to apply some kind of reason to her situation. Does this happen to people and no one talks about it? Luke said he time-traveled and he wasn't even upset by it.

"Señorita Casey!"

The girl darted out from the side of the building and grabbed Casey's hand. Rosalinda pulled her along and she followed meekly, not having the strength to resist any longer.

"We must hurry now. If we are discovered, I shall be punished… and I want nothing to ruin my quinceñera… Por favor, Señorita Casey. Please!"

Casey could only stare in awe at the outdated scenes taking place around her. She had just been informed her reality didn't exist. Rosalinda tugged on her hand, as though to shake her awake, but Casey only nodded in a feeble attempt to regain some focus. To believe everything around you, no matter how much you deny it, is actually happening… real… something you have been told all your life just couldn't be possible… Her mind felt like it might short-circuit with all she had lost. She blindly followed the teenager back through the old western town that appeared to be so real! What was happening to her? Was this crossing over into insanity?

But it was real and it was happening now!

"Come…" Rosalinda urged. "It's not much farther."

When they crossed several more streets and turned down the alley where they had entered the town, the girl stopped and held Casey's shoulders, as though she were the adult.

"What has happened to you, Señorita? Why are you like this? You must come back to yourself or you may never wear a beautiful ball gown at my quinceñera, and perhaps neither will I." Rosalinda pleaded further, "Por favor, Casey… if my father finds out what has happened, ay, Dios mío," she whispered with a gasp, "he will have us both punished!"

That seemed to wake her a bit more. Beyond the incessant feeling of pending madness was the primal defensive instinct that no one was going to punish her or push her around… without good reason anyway. Not even a policeman who implied she was inebriated. She almost said it aloud, her mind recalling the sarcastic marshal. And then he'd had the audacity to threaten to lock her up until she sobered!

Now a fourteen-year-old may be leading her around by the hand, but somewhere within her was an adult who knew she didn't have to give in to this fear… not the fear of whatever had happened to her or the fear of someone, anyone, thinking he had the right to punish her or push her around. It was to that emancipated feeling she gave her attention.

She pulled her hand away from Rosalinda's and took a deep breath. Licking her lips, she then tried to smile with some reassurance. "It's okay, Rosalinda." she muttered. "I'm sorry. I'm… I'm just shocked."

"At what?" the girl asked, tightening the shawl around her face.

"At the world," Casey said, surprised at the words as they escaped her lips, yet it was the truth. Her world had tilted and she was fighting like crazy to find some equilibrium.

Rosalinda stared at her for a few seconds and then gushed, "Oh, because of being in the convent… yes, I understand. The world must seem very different to you."

She wanted to blurt out that she hadn't been in any convent, shut away from the world, and her world, the modern world, was so different that if she tried for a hundred years, she couldn't make this child understand where she had come from.

She was stunned for a moment as she remembered Luke's words to her last night in the wagon about not being able to explain time travel to her. Oh, she couldn't go there. Not now, not when her mind was hanging precariously by a thread. "Let's get back," she said in what she hoped passed for a normal voice.

Rosalinda nodded and again took her hand as they hurried toward her backyard. Casey looked down to their clasped hands and mentally shrugged. Right now this kid seemed more steady than she. She had to trust someone… until she could again trust herself.

Just to prove she might be certifiable, that damn line from the Jackson Browne song raced through her head. The next voice you hear will be your own.

"I need my wallet," Casey suddenly blurted. She heard the urgency in her own voice and wondered why she had to tell the girl that, but right now she felt she needed to hold on to something from her life. Inside that wallet was her identity, a Pennsylvania driver's license with her photograph and the year she was born. It was proof she was still who she was, proof of where she had come from and where she belonged. Even if she couldn't get back there, at least it was something that would help ground her through whatever madness was happening here. Rosalinda simply nodded her head in agreement, touching her fingers to her lips to indicate the need for quiet as they made their way closer to the house.

Without speaking they entered the backyard through the creaky wooden gate, sneaking past the house servants who appeared to be preparing a feast under a large tree. Casey spied Marcella and stiffened with apprehension as the woman put her hand to her hip and looked briefly in their direction. They slipped quickly behind the potted-tree branches and Marcella turned away. They were still okay.

When they entered the passageway, Casey drew in a huge breath and forced herself through the small opening. She kept telling herself to take shallow breaths, not to think of anything except getting back into the bedroom and collapsing onto the bed. There was just so much one woman could absorb!

"I will leave you now," Rosalinda whispered so quietly Casey had to strain to hear her. "This is the back of my sister's wardrobe into your room. I must change into my gown. We are both expected to be formally introduced in a short time. Remember to act surprised." The girl squeezed her hand and disappeared around a corner. Casey pushed on the wood and it slid easily to the side. She stepped into the dark, large chest and slowly opened the door to a sight that almost stopped her heart.

As if to test her endurance, it appeared that fate had decided she needed even more of a challenge to her sanity…

Luke was seated on the chair, his crossed legs propped up on the side board of the bed. Twirling a thin cigar between his fingers, he made no eye contact with her as he watched the wisps of smoke ride the air. In his other hand he held the brush Rosalinda had brought to her earlier, the one she had dropped onto the bed.

"I'm sure you realize your actions have endangered a child," he stated assertively.

She clung to the edge of the wardrobe, willing her foot to step down to the tile. Fear again gripped her chest and she had to fight to control it. Then she remembered that surge of strength she'd found in the alley… the instinct that no one was going to punish her or push her around, including this man… whoever he was!

Her foot slipped onto the cool, firm tile beneath it and she smiled inwardly. She'd gotten this far, she could do this. Besides, that so-called child he had just referred to was more in touch with reality at this moment than she was.

Before she could even respond to his assertion, he continued. "You went to la policía and they didn't believe it when you told them you were from the year 2000." He smacked the brush against his thigh. "I'll bet they even offered to let you sleep off your drunken state in one of their comfortable jail cells."

Casey smirked at him as she closed the wardrobe door behind her and drew in a breath to speak in defense of her actions. "I had every right—"

"Right?" Luke interrupted, and glared directly into her eyes. "You have no right to involve an innocent child, or anyone else for that matter, in your…" He began shaking his head as though frustrated and grasping for the words he wanted to use. "Your version of reality!"

"Okay, that's it, buster," she blurted. "My 'version of reality' was just fine until you came along. Let's focus here on who is involved and who is innocent, like me! What the hell is going on anyway? You've got a lot of explaining to do, Luke d'Séraphin," she finished, crossing her arms defiantly.

She watched as Luke's eyes became tender with compassion. "You are courageous, Casey O'Reilly. Don't cloud such bravery with foolishness." He continued calmly, "Should it be found that Rosalinda was out and about town without a proper duenna, she would be punished severely by her parents. You must respect the people with whom you find yourself now, señorita. You must also realize, in this time your actions may directly affect the future, even your future… everyone's future."

"Is that what you do, Luke? When this craziness happens? You just simply fit right in?" She began waving her arms around in dispute. "You pop in and out of time, like it's all part of a normal day… you don't mind the loneliness, the lack of anything modern… even a bathroom! You just follow the damned pattern?" Her voice was raised, yet she couldn't seem to stop herself. Besides, it felt better to get it out of her, all this insanity. "What the hell are you? Should I check under your bed to see if there's a freakin' pod? Are you some alien or something? How the hell does this happen to someone?" Casey looked up to the ceiling as though she would hear the answers she wanted from some higher source. "Where is my life? How can I have time-traveled? This isn't possible!" She felt her face flush as tears began welling up in her eyes.

"You're accepting it now," he said soothingly.

"I'm not accepting anything!" she protested. "This just doesn't happen!"

He came to his feet so quickly that Casey jumped in fright as he seemed to cross the room and stand in front of her with the grace of a cat. "But it has happened," he stated with such finality that the tears in her eyes stopped and she could only stare at him as his fingers reached up and tenderly stroked the hair back from her face. When she felt him brush a strand behind her ear, Casey thought she would lose it.

She felt her throat begin to burn with the desire to release the scream lying just below a very thin surface of control. All her stifled emotions throbbed inside her chest as they had in the sandstorm. It was as though someone had punched her even harder this time, and her body began to tremble uncontrollably as the horrible sensation of fear spread over her. She was going to have to accept this reality.

"Yes, accept it, Casey," he whispered with more compassion. "Stop fighting the fear and all your pain will ease."

"I hate it when you do that!" she said, turning away quickly. She stepped the few feet to the bed, grabbing on to the blanket and twisting it in her fists. "It isn't fair you can tell what's going on inside me! It's… it's invasion of privacy! Leave me alone!" Inside she wished she could twist him as she clenched the blanket harder, or punch and scream at him… anything to make this whole unbelievable dream disappear, and him too, since he seemed to be the biggest part of it.

She heard the click of his heels on the tile as he walked up behind her. When he placed his hand on her shoulder, it was all she could do to keep from shuddering beneath his heat penetrating her skin. Her urge to throw a tantrum momentarily subsided as she recalled when he'd first found her nearly dead in the sandstorm. Again she began to sense the protection she'd felt under his coat… with her head against his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat. She wanted to fall into that safety again, to know the peace she'd felt when she was wrapped in his strong arms… and she felt her own grip release from the blanket.

She closed her eyes and swallowed the longing in her throat. Whatever it was that this man possessed, be it carnal or divine, she realized deep down she was going to have to surrender and simply accept his help if she was ever going to get her life back. He might have the advantage, but she just didn't know if she could truly accept anything as crazy as this!

"I'm not using an unfair advantage, Casey. I'm not using any gift you don't also possess. However, I do have suggestions to make the adventure more enjoyable."

She could hear the smile in his words and she fought against his gentle pull to turn her to face him.

"Look." His voice was insistently tender. "I don't know why you were brought back to this time. Only you know your answers, and they will eventually come to you if you don't fight them with your fear. There is a pattern to all things, and you are following your pattern, Casey O'Reilly. The sooner you realize that and start paying attention, the sooner you can fulfill your purpose here and get on with your life."

She spun around, desperate for something to cling to, some explanation. "Get on with my life! Just where is my life, Luke? You said I was brought back in time. Who or what brought me back here? What is the purpose of all this? You tell me!"

"I don't know how to answer you," he whispered. "I could give you some interesting mathematical equations, some esoteric words, but I can't really describe what you are seeking. It's your adventure, Casey, and this is mine right now. At this time in history your adventure and mine have crossed. Be assured, there is a reason for it, and once we have fulfilled that reason, our paths will separate. I'm here to help you, Casey. Your fight isn't with me."

She blinked several times, trying to absorb everything he was saying. "I'm not fighting you, Luke… I'm not fighting anybody."

His playful smile widened.

"Who would I be fighting then?" she whispered back, secretly dreading his answer before his lips even moved.

He teasingly raised his forefinger to her lips to hush them like a child. "You are fighting, señorita… but you are only fighting yourself."

She saw the triumphant smile spread over his face and that twinkle came back into his eyes. She defiantly pushed his hand away from her face and glared at him.

"Okay, I'll admit it. I'm fighting, all right, but not with myself… I'm fighting for myself!" She felt the burning lump in her throat rising again. Memories of her life before she began this insane adventure to visit her sister flooded through her brain. Some adventure… full of purpose, she sarcastically lectured herself. She closed her eyes. Although she knew it was childish, she suddenly wished she could just click her heels, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, and go back… only back to her time.

"Casey," she heard him say softly as she felt him lay his hands gently on her shoulders. "Stop fighting and accept where you are now, in this moment… stop wishing it was something else. There may be other ways of time travel, like clicking your heels together." She opened her eyes to see those dimples coming back to his cheeks as he continued. "Accepting wherever I am is being in the moment. There is no place but now… wherever it is. This is one of the first principles I learned, and I can only pass along to you what I've discovered."

He'd done it again. She shoved at his chest like an angry child to create distance between them and walked around to the other side of the bed. "Principles! Like this is some stupid course I'm taking and you're my mind-reading teacher! Ha! What a laugh."

He chuckled. "I did say a sense of humor was also a valuable tool. Go ahead and laugh. I've found it helps a great deal."

"You're mad, do you know that?" she exclaimed, moving closer to the pillow. "This whole thing is some huge, funny joke to you, a lark! Well, lemme tell ya, what I saw out there is no laughing matter! There are cowboys who wouldn't even know what toothpaste is, let alone who've seen the inside of a dentist's office in their entire lives! Or a shower! Indians selling things on corners! Women who smoke cigars and dress like they're in the road show of Man of La Mancha! There's horseshit and God knows what else thrown onto dirt roads, and if I really want to get into being pissed off, I could just scream at having to use a chamber pot! How's that for acceptance!" She knew her face was red, but she stared at him insolently, charging him to respond.

Luke threw back his head and laughed. "See?" he asked, still chuckling at her outburst. "You have to laugh at the way your mind is fighting this. It is funny… for you. Just laugh, Casey."

She wasn't laughing. As a matter of fact, she couldn't remember the last time she actually did laugh. It had to have been in Pennsylvania!

"So you're saying this was all my doing… coming back here, back to 1878." She rolled her eyes in disbelief at what was coming out of her mouth. "This 'adventure,' as you seem to like to call it, was all my idea? I traveled through time to obtain some greater purpose for myself?" She began hysterically shaking her head in denial. It was too much. She didn't even dream this vividly.

He nodded. "Only you could design this particular adventure, señorita. I surely couldn't."

"You… you're impossible!" she yelled, throwing the pillow at him.

He batted the pillow easily back onto the mattress. "I'm patient. Not impossible. Is it so difficult to accept I have nothing to do with whatever is unfolding in your life? I came upon your car and I made the choice to come back to help you. I didn't send you back here. You were already here. I came back for you."

Like an arrow hitting the bull's-eye, his words struck deeply inside her. She felt the tears she had been holding inside for so long burst into her eyes, demanding release. Furious, embarrassed, confused, and scared, she climbed onto the bed and clutched the other pillow to her chest. She buried her face and just sobbed… for Amy, her niece, her life, everything she had left behind. She just wanted her life back. There had been so much she wanted to do. She hadn't been ready to be taken away from it so quickly and—

"We will get back, Casey," he said in a gentle voice, and she felt him sitting down on the edge of the bed. "We can return to the year 2000, though only nature can provide the way. Presently it is beyond my power to change anything, except the way I view the situation. I must wait… like you… and watch as the pattern unfolds. But there will be a way for you to return. Do not doubt that."

She sniffled and swiped at her eyes with her forearm. Lifting her head, she turned around to look at him. "How?"

"I don't know… yet." He smiled tenderly. "But you will go home."

She heard the compassionate assurance in his voice and it bolstered her hope. Sniffing more, she turned herself completely around and sat up in bed. She straightened her wide skirt over her crossed knees, then scrunched the tearstained pillow under her arms. Clutching it for a sense of safety, she felt like a kid again, unsure and seeking answers as she twirled the multicolored tassels between her fingers. "So we're going to get back… back there?"

He nodded. "It was part of the reason I came for you, to help you return."

"And what's the other part?" She realized she owed him thanks for all his help, but she figured she could take care of that when they got back to the future. Right now she really wanted to know how he planned to get them there.

He shrugged and pulled a match out of his front pocket. Striking it on the heel of his boot, he relit the end of his cigar and puffed several times. "I'm not sure what the other part is exactly… I'm waiting to be shown."

Oh, she wasn't going to go down that path. First she had to get it into her head that this was temporary. She would see Amy again and have her normal, old life back. Well, her life anyway, for she certainly was a changed woman after this experience, and quite frankly, she didn't know if she would ever view anything the same way again.

He smiled and patted her knee. "You must pull yourself together now, Casey." He then stood up from the edge of the mattress and began walking to the door.

Abruptly she felt vulnerable. "But—" She was dumbfounded that she really hadn't gotten the full reassurance she had hoped would be forthcoming.

"We'll talk more about your return later. In a few moments we are expected at the noon meal and you will be introduced to the entire family. Of course, you've already met the delightfully free-spirited Rosalinda, but I would act surprised if I were you when you're formally introduced. Remember to protect the child. Her heart is in the right place, yet her impulsiveness sometimes makes it a challenge for her parents." He grinned knowingly at her.

"I don't think I can meet anyone right now," Casey mumbled, stunned that she was actually beginning to accept that she had time-traveled into the lives of these people.

"Do your best. Don Felipe and his gracious wife, Doña Isabela, are most anxious to speak with you and extend their hospitality."

"But, Luke," she protested, feeling like she could cry again. "I'm not exactly in the right frame of mind now. I can't do this!"

"Yes, you can," he insisted, his eyes narrowing as he again puffed on his cigar. "There is no other moment, save this. You must not offend our gracious hosts."

"Well, this moment brings with it a lot to assimilate," she whined. "I've never time-traveled before, ya know? And this is more than a little falling apart I've had here!"

"The next principle is to trust yourself."

"What?" That got her attention.

"Accept where you are and the customs where you find yourself and then… trust yourself, Casey."

Those damn, damn words from that damn, damn song raced through her head again.

"Well, get outta here then," she commanded in an irritated voice, as she waved her hand toward the door. "How am I supposed to get my act together when you're playing with my head and making me more confused?"

His smile pierced all barriers she had constructed, and as the door closed, Casey had to admit… she was no longer raving.

She didn't think she was going crazy any longer, or if she did, she had company now… and Luke said they would get back. He didn't know when or where, but she had to trust someone, and in truth, he hadn't done anything harmful to her. Except for that dumb nun story. How the hell was she supposed to pull that off?

"Trust yourself," she repeated with dismay.