Chapter 5

 

Talan fell down beside me, gulping in deep breaths. My lungs were aching, and even though the temperature was tepid at best, the air felt soothingly warm. The night had been much colder wherever we had just been.

"How d'you know we're back?" Talan asked when he had calmed down.

"Street lights." I motioned past the fence to the straight paved street illuminated by the roadside lamps. I was suddenly distracted by the fact that I was sitting on something. Reaching into my back pocket I pulled out the flashlight. It was on. Talan met my gaze over the beam then cast a second look at the street lights. A lone vehicle drove leisurely by.

"Fair enough." He wiped his brow and his shoulders seemed to relax. After a beat he said, "So... What the hell was his problem?"

"I'm not entirely sure." I started to get up on one knee. "My house is right over there. I have some soup if you want… we can talk."

"Sweet." The fact that he was no longer in danger of being shot restored Talan to his casual demeanor. "Just get me outta this cemetery."

* * *

I shoved open my door and groped into the dark for a light switch. I flipped it on, revealing the very collegiate looking space. My furniture was a mismatched array of "know anybody who wants this" and what random family members had bestowed me. My cat, a gigantic ball of fluff 'n stuff, yawned and stretched out on the beige carpet when we entered.

I nodded. "Lucky hates other people." As if on cue, the tomcat burst awake, casting a fearful look toward Talan before flipping up and running down the hallway.

Talan's shoulders slumped. "I usually have that effect on small creatures."

"At least I know that there's no psycho axe murderers waiting to chop me to bits. If there were, the cat would be hiding."

"That's what you go by? A burglar alarm that sheds?"

"So far so good." I led him into the kitchen behind saloon-like hinged doors.

Talan looked around pleasantly. "You own this place?"

"Rent it. My parents wanted to move closer to our family in Michigan and I didn't want to transfer, so I just stayed. The landlord is nice and it’s just a twenty minute commute from school."

Talan busied himself with the Victorian-flowered wallpaper, running a finger over the oversized, illustrated petals. I peered into the refrigerator. "Potato or calico bean?"

"Potato?" Talan looked up from the wall excitedly. "I worship the tile you tread upon."

"I'm no culinary royalty. But, I'll take it." I removed the container and pulled the soup pot from the rack and set it on the stove.

"You make homemade soup?"

"It's way better." I poured the soup into the pot set over a blue flame. "We might have to eat in here – my dining room gave its life to be my study."

Talan turned to look over the counter separating the dining room from the kitchen. "Whoa. I can see."

A square oak table sat in the middle of the room with a single chair. The entire surface was covered with books, papers, pens, folders, envelopes, notebooks, highlighters, and my laptop with its various accessories.

"I wonder..." I stepped away from the stove, rounded the counter into my chaos, and started looking through books.

Talan leaned on the counter facing me. "Wonder what?"

"Why that guy was there."

"What about the whole... you know... shooting at us?"

"That too." I glanced to the kitchen. "Can you stir that?"

Talan walked uncertainly up to the stove but picked up the spoon and stirred the soup, replacing the spoon on the holder.

I smiled at him, "See? It's not difficult."

"It really isn't.” Talan stopped at the refrigerator and examined the clippings held up by magnets covered in molded plastic that looked like various fruit. "You write for newspapers?"

"Just freelance work for some newspapers," I answered, regarding the articles I had saved. "It’s nothing important."

Talan pouted his lower lip. "I think it’s cool."

I silently commanded myself not to blush, but I felt my face warm up. "Thanks."

"So…" Talan watched me shuffle through the books on my table. "You think you have something that'd explain psycho man on the horse?"

"I don't know. To be honest, I had a lot more research to do before, now it's just more pressing." I picked up a very thick chronicle of the Bleeding Kansas era.

Talan shook his head, elbows on the countertop. "We just traveled back in time, were shot at, and now you're reading a book. You remind me of Walter."

I flipped through the book but wasn't reading any of the pages. "He's a good friend of yours, then?"

"Yeah. If we were given the opportunity to wear best friend forever bracelets we probably would. He's cool, but beyond obsessed. I swear. Most guys his age have posters of, like, I dunno, the Ramones plastered on their walls. Walter, no. He has a framed portrait of Frederick Douglas, I kid you not." His brow furrowed. "You can find anything on Ebay. Anyway." He waved his hands as if to clear his thoughts. "Ever since he's heard about this Gil guy, he hasn't shut up... He left me like, three voice mails after he visited the newspaper office... in fact..." Talan pulled his cell phone from his jeans. "You might not have to research as much as you thought." He dialed and leaned back against the counter, while I abandoned my search and tended to the soup.

"Hey, working?" Talan said into the phone. "Oh, yeah. Just wondering what time tomorrow… Oh... uh-huh... Yeah. That's cool... Wow... Okay, well, see you then... Bye."

Talan tapped his phone and the screen dimmed. "He says he got a ton of stuff. He's coming by tomorrow morning to drop it off and maybe look at some of it, but he's covering someone's day shift so he'll have to leave."

I handed Talan a steaming bowl of potato soup. "He's a blessing to historians everywhere."

"Thanks." He took the soup. "No, he's a ninja, he just won't admit it yet."

I took a bowl for myself. "This is insanity."

"Just so we're on the same page." Talan spoke between spoonfuls of hot soup. "Time travel. Buried historical pre-Civil War conspiracy mystery. Grand opening on Saturday."

I nodded. "Sounds right to me."

"Just making sure."

"After dinner, wanna stick around?"

Talan raised an eyebrow. "Research?"

"No. I'm teaching you how to make soup."