Tuesday, November 17, 2009
I CRAWLED OUT OF BED feeling like I’d been hit by a Mac truck and dragged for several miles. I had fallen asleep on top of my uncle’s notebooks. I’d become so engrossed in them and had read my way up to the second year of the Civil War. I could not get over the amount of detail and emotional anguish that screamed through the words on each page. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before and his words made me feel as if I was living the experience with him. The vivid descriptions of his fellow soldiers, their personality characteristics, his commanding officers, and the horrid battles that surrounded him left little to the imagination of how it really was to fight every day to stay alive.
I had studied American history since the third grade and each year we covered the Civil War. Last year I took a history class that concentrated on the causes leading up to the war, the battles, and the aftermath. The course was interesting and gave more detail than any general American History course before it yet, but everything that I’d studied had never given me the emotional side of what it was like to live everyday fighting for the cause.
My uncle’s words touched my soul. He wrote of his true love who I knew he eventually married and left his life in the 1990s for in order to exist only on one plane with her since she had not inherited EVE. He spoke of coming across my other father at the makeshift military hospital where Patrick was covered in blood, scrambling about and hectically trying to save as many men as possible. His choice of words allowed me to almost see my father standing over a table by the light of poorly luminous oil lamps. I could almost see him digging ball shots and shrapnel out of men as young as sixteen years old while they hollered out in pain and an assistant continuously poured whiskey down the patient’s throat while others held them down.
Uncle Monte had only been home once for Christmas in those last two years. It was so difficult to hear him describe my brothers and I, and how much he had missed out on watching us grow and change. It was obvious from his words that he loved us all. His deep love and affection for Vivian jumped off the page and enraptured my heart. He left me in tears describing his last moments with her, holding her tight on our front porch never wanting to let her go. My father in that time period had managed to join him that holiday and he and Annabelle had sobbed in one another’s arms while my brothers and I had cried around them, holding tightly to our father’s pant legs. The image he painted ripped the heart from my chest leaving me gasping for air. It was as if I was standing there again holding onto my daddy for dear life begging and pleading him not to leave me. However, I knew it was impossible for me to recall such a memory even if the barrier was completely down. I was barely two years old when this event took place and in 2009, I had no memories of that age.
What I found so difficult to read was Monte’s deep worry for their younger brother Nicholas. They had spent the first nine months of the war fighting side by side but then Nicholas had gone missing when he and several other men in their battalion went out on a search party for food. None of them had returned. After their visit home for Christmas, the despair grew deeper after Monte learned that no letters had arrived home from Nicholas since they had separated. He continually asked every group of soldiers he encountered but no one knew anything about him. Monte feared he had been captured by the Confederates and was being held in a Southern prison. He had heard numerous horror stories about one in Andersonville where the men were dying by the dozens every day from starvation and disease. All he could do was hope and pray that someday he would see his younger brother again, but with each passing day his faith diminished a little more.
***
I climbed into the shower wondering again if I had made the right decision in not sharing the discovery of the journals with Jackson and his parents. I hated to think what they would say about them or maybe I was afraid they would warn me against reading them. I considered how they were impacting my view of this foreign world that I was rapidly becoming more aware of and how witnessing it through my uncle’s eyes made me yearn for simpler times in days long forgotten. I thought about how his words could impact not only me, but the rest of the world if his journals were ever published. It had changed my perception completely on all that I thought I knew about the Civil War and I knew it would do the same for anyone who read them.
All day long his journals haunted me. I couldn’t wait to get back home and engross myself in them. I repeatedly tried to concentrate on my schoolwork, but it was pointless.
Caitlyn and Zak were arguing loudly once again outside his locker right after the lunch bell rang. She had overheard him joking with some of the guys on the basketball team and stupidly referring to her as a trophy. She went ballistic. Her face was bright red and her words grew louder and louder with each second. Poor Zak looked like he was ready to crawl into his locker from the embarrassment. Like all immature boys, Ethan and Cody stood behind him snickering as Caitlyn ripped Zak a new one.
As soon as Hilary realized what Cody was doing, she approached him with a stern look, smacked him on the arm and pulled him towards the lunchroom. I immediately followed her example and pulled my idiot brother away as well. They already had enough people watching the spectacle and didn’t need us witnessing it too.
Ten minutes later, Zak cowered into the cafeteria looking like a beaten puppy. He slumped down in the chair beside Cody and stared down at his tray of untouched food. Hilary, Jenna, and I all exchanged looks, wondering if Caitlyn was going to follow him in or if we should go looking for her.
“I can’t believe she got so pissed. It was a compliment for crying out loud,” Zak muttered under his breath.
Cody let out a giggle and Hilary quickly smacked him again on the shoulder. “It’s not a compliment,” she scowled.
“I’m going to go find Caitlyn.” I leaned over and gave Jackson a quick peck on the cheek before I climbed out of my seat. He smiled and nodded.
Hilary and Jenna got up as well and the three of us headed back towards the bathrooms by Zak’s locker. I figured that was where she was hiding.
Sure enough, Caitlyn was crouched down in the corner with her knees drawn up in her arms, crying when we walked in. The three of us knelt down around her.
“Sweetie, don’t worry about him. You know how Zak is. In his mind, I’m sure he did believe it was a compliment.” Jenna rested her hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder.
“I’m so sick of this crap with him. I’m not a trophy and if that’s how he really thinks of me, then I don’t want to be with him,” Caitlyn sobbed.
“I know, but honey, he’s just an immature little boy. You know he has the maturity level of a twelve year old, just like Cody,” Hilary added, trying to reassure her.
“Kyle and Jackson don’t act like that,” Caitlyn nearly shouted through her sobs. “They would never make a remark like that about either of you.”
Jenna and I exchanged a knowing look. Her statement was true. It was not in either of their make-up to utter something so immature and thoughtless.
“Why can’t he act more like them? I don’t see them hanging out with a bunch of idiots trying to be cool. They act more like men than little high school boys,” Caitlyn complained.
“They are just different, I guess,” I said in a low voice feeling horrible. I could never imagine Kyle behaving with such disrespect, it just wasn’t him. Jackson, on the other hand, was almost twenty-two, and I knew he had behaved similar to Zak and Cody when he was younger. He had told me so himself. However, I seriously doubted if he had ever been so crude to a woman before. That really wasn’t part of his personality.
“Well, Cody and Zak could certainly learn a lot from them both.” Hilary sat back against the wall beside Caitlyn. “But, you have to make up with him. We’re all going to see the midnight showing of New Moon on Thursday night. We already have the tickets. Do you realize how hard it was for me to convince my mom to let me go on a school night?” She tried to laugh, but we all knew she was serious. She had battled her mom for over a month to be able to go to the midnight showing, and I knew she wasn’t going to let anyone or anything ruin it for her.
“Oh, we’re still going. Don’t worry about that. But Zak can choke on his ticket as far as I’m concerned. I wouldn’t sit by him now anyway. Besides, he really didn’t want to go. He was only doing it to pacify me.” Caitlyn brushed the tears off her cheeks smearing her make-up across her face.
I stood up and got some paper towels and wetted them down a bit. I went back over to Caitlyn and tried my best to fix the smeared mascara around her eyes. She gave me a weak smile. “Are you sure you’re ready to get married? I mean, Jackson’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I just can’t imagine being married to Zak and having to put up with his crap forever.”
“Jackson is nothing like Zak.” I sat down in front of her. “He’s more mature and I love him.” I knew none of them were ever going to understand my decision. They couldn’t see why I didn’t want to wait and I could never explain to them the entire truth. I laughed to myself imagining their facial expressions if I ever spoke of EVE and the truth about why Jackson and I needed to get married.
Besides, we are getting married next month anyways….in 1878! Wow, they would surely understand that one, I thought sarcastically.
They all noticed my giggle and gave me an odd look. “What?”
“What’s so funny?” Jenna asked.
“Just thinking of something Jackson had said about the assumptions people were going to make about us getting married,” I quickly lied to my three best friends.
“Yeah, I’ve had people already ask me if you’re pregnant,” Hilary spoke up.
“Really?” I rolled my eyes at their stupidity.
“Yeah, me too,” Jenna added, and Caitlyn nodded in agreement.
“Well, I’m not. I can promise you that,” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
“Haven’t you guys done it yet?” Hilary piped up.
“No…” I shouldn’t have been surprised by her bluntness, but it caught me off guard.
“Why not?” Caitlyn asked. “I mean, if you’re getting married in seven months, why wait? It seems silly.”
I shrugged my shoulders again. I couldn’t have agreed with them more. I wasn’t the one who wanted to wait, Jackson was. But that information wasn’t something I wanted to share with them. I wasn’t sure how they would judge him for it.
“Well, it’s not that we’re actually going to wait until we’re married,” I lied again. Jackson and I had already decided to only wait until our wedding night in 1878.
“We’re more or less waiting for the time to be right.” I looked between the three of them to see if they were buying it. “You know how it is, parents or brothers always around. We never get much opportunity to be alone.” It seemed plausible enough of an excuse.
“Yeah, I do know. My parents are always home and watching us like hawks,” Hilary laughed.
“It’s hard to be romantic when Ethan keeps walking in on us every five minutes,” I complained.
“I can sympathize. My parents always seem to find some excuse never to leave Kyle and me alone,” Jenna added.
“Zak’s folks aren’t that bad. They trust us,” Caitlyn laughed. “Either that or they don’t care.” She shrugged slightly. “But those days are over.” Her head dropped and the tears started back up again.
Jenna and Hilary patted each of her shoulders softly while I placed my hand on her knee trying to comfort her.
“It’s not over. You will forgive him, as always. We all know this,” Jenna spoke in a low voice. We all knew she was right. Caitlyn always forgave Zak for his stupid antics in the end.
“Not this time,” she shook her head. “I’ve had enough. He went too far and has no respect for me at all.”
“Yes, he does,” Hilary assured her, giving Jenna and me a contradictive look. “He loves you. He was just showing off to his cronies. You know how he and Cody can be…. completely thoughtless and immature. But they really mean nothing by it.”
“Of course they don’t,” I added, trying to calm her down.
“Guys act stupid around other guys, Caitlyn. You know that. It’s in their DNA. They can’t help it. They’re prewired for stupidity,” Jenna giggled, attempting to make Caitlyn laugh.
It worked. Caitlyn giggled and I wiped the tears from her cheeks once more.
“Better?” I asked.
Caitlyn grinned and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Good. Can we go eat now? I’m starving.” Hilary climbed back off the floor.
The guys were all still seated around the table when we walked back into the cafeteria. There was only ten minutes left for lunch, and I too was starving.
I took my seat back beside Jackson. He leaned over and whispered, “Is everything okay?”
I watched Caitlyn sit down in the chair beside Zak and smile softly.
“I think so,” I whispered back.
***
After a quick bite and a shower after basketball practice, I flipped on the eighties music video marathon on Classic VH1 and flopped myself back down across my bed with my uncle’s journals. I quickly lost myself in his world as the words took hold of my soul and ran away with it.
My cell rang at eight-thirty, bringing me out of the battle of Gettysburg. I absentmindedly wiped the tears from my face, not even realizing I had been crying, before I reached for the phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi, darling. How are you?” Jackson’s sweet accent flooded my ears.
“Fine.” I cleared my throat trying not to sound like I had been crying.
“I was wondering if you are avoiding me.”
“Why would you think something like that?” I teased.
“Normally, you practically live at my place, but for the last couple days you have been going home after practice and disappearing for the entire evening.” He sounded like a hurt child and I knew he was playing with me.
“Well, if I keep that up then I’m never going to graduate, let alone get into college. I do have to study sometime you know.” Which was very true, and I reminded myself again of how far behind I was falling in my current classes. I was seriously going to have to bury myself in my books sometime soon or my grades were going to slip.
“I know,” a little laugh escaped from his chest. “I just love giving you a hard time. What are you studying?”
“History.”
“I didn’t think you were taking history this semester.” I could hear the intrigue in his voice. He knew I wasn’t studying schoolwork. I should have told him psychology, but since he was in my class and I hadn’t read the current material, I didn’t want him quizzing me.
“Well, it’s more personal research than anything else.” I hoped he wouldn’t read anything more into it.
“Let me guess. You’re playing on Ancestry.com. Right?” he laughed. “Tracing down your family tree?”
His words hit me like a bolt of lightning. Yes! That was the answer I couldn’t think of that was staring me straight in the face. It was perfect.
I jumped off my bed and leapt over to the computer. I quickly wiggled the mouse to bring it back to life and paced impatiently around my room waiting for it to come alive.
“I’m sorry, Jackson. I have to take care of something real quick. Let me call you back in a little while. I love you.” I closed the cell before he had the chance to respond.
My mind was rushing in a thousand different directions at once. My monitor finally sprang to life, and I sat down and typed the website into the search engine. I typed in our last name and played around with the dates until I saw the name that I wanted to pop up on my screen: Montgomery Floyd Timmons 1839-1904. I quickly did the math in my head. My uncle was only twenty-two years old when the Civil War had begun.
With the proof glaring at me across the monitor, I plotted preciously what I was going to say to my dad to convince him there was another explanation for the journals. I ran down the stairs to my father’s office where he was buried under a pile of paperwork looking exhausted from an apparently long day.
“Dad?” I leaned against the doorframe trying not to appear too anxious.
“Yeah?” He didn’t bother to even look up.
“Can I show you something real quick?”
“Not right now, Jocelyn. I’m really busy.” He kept his eyes on his papers.
“Seriously, it will only take a second. It’s important,” I pleaded.
“Maybe later.” He finally looked up and gave me a haphazard smile.
“It’s after nine already. I promise it will only take a second of your time.” I was not against begging at this point.
“I don’t have time for any wedding things, Jocelyn.” He went back to his papers.
“It has nothing to do with the wedding,” I explained. “It’s about the journals. I found something. Trust me you really want to see this.”
His eyes darted back up with intrigue. “All right.” He got up from his desk chair and followed me to the stairs.
“I did some digging after reading half of the journals because they seemed too authentic to me, and you’re not going to believe what I found.” I could no longer hide my excitement as we ascended the stairs two at a time. I practically danced over to my monitor and pointed to the name and dates behind it.
“Can you believe that? Uncle Monte must be named after him. According to the dates on our family tree, he was twenty-two years old when the Civil War broke out.” I moved my finger over to point at my other parents’ names followed by my brothers and even my name. “And look, they are mentioned in the journals as well. His brother Patrick, his wife Annabelle, their children, Patrick II, James, Jonathon, William, and check this out, she and I have the same name, Jocelyn Alyssa! Can you believe that?” I tried to act astonished by the discovery.
My dad stared at the monitor in silence for several minutes. "Well, I’ll be damned,” he said more to himself then to me, rubbing his chin slightly. Then he looked over at me and smiled.
“Uncle Monte must have somehow come across his namesake’s journals in your parents’ things and they had to have been falling apart by then. He must have just recopied them in their original form. There’s no other explanation for it. They are too authentic, way too real not to be written firsthand. I can’t believe how real they are. It is just like living the war through his eyes and being there with him experiencing all of it.” The words rushed out of me as I tried to get my dad onboard with my train of thought, hoping he would buy the story.
Yet he just stared at me with a coy smile across his face. Several minutes passed before he went over and sat down on the edge of my bed. “Have a seat, baby.”
He nodded towards my desk chair. “I suppose your mother and I should have told you all this a long time ago. I’m not sure why we never did to be honest. It’s not like it was some big secret we were trying to keep from you or something.” He paused looking at his hands fidgeting in his lap. “This house was built by my family in the summer of 1860, less than a year before the Civil War started. It stayed in my family, I believe until sometime after the turn of the century when it fell into disarray and was sold because it would have cost too much to update it and make all the necessary repairs. Anyway, I grew up listening to stories of this place and it always intrigued me. So when it went up for sale when your mother was pregnant with you, we bought it. At that time, we did a lot of research on my family history and the history of the house. Your mother thought it was more than a coincidence that we got the house back into our family when she was carrying you and it was built when Annabelle was carrying her only daughter, Jocelyn Alyssa. Therefore, she wanted to name you after her as a kind of tradition. So you actually have a family name,” he laughed. “I wanted to name you Zoe Nichole, but I was overruled.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Zoe Nichole? I don’t look like a Zoe.”
“No. You don’t. You look like a Jocelyn Alyssa. Your mother was right about that,” he agreed with a loving smile and patted my knee. “Come with me, I want to show you something else you’ll find interesting.” He stood up and walked to my door. I quickly followed him eager to see what else he had to show me. I followed my father down to the basement to the back corner of the room where there was a large storage closet containing all the holiday decorations. He opened the door and flipped on the light. Various boxes and tubs were stacked against the walls and labeled with various topics.
“Wait just a sec. It’s kind of crowded in here.” He squeezed his way to the back of the little room and began tugging on something large, trying to maneuver it through the little maze of stuff packed in there.
“Here we go.” He reappeared with a very old, extremely large, ancient looking trunk. “This was given to me when Monte passed away. I had never gone through it until the other day. I never could bring myself to sort through his things, but this is where I found the journals. There are some really fascinating things in here. A lot of family history stuff that I never knew existed that must have been passed down through the family. He must have gotten it from your grandparents when they passed away. But I can’t figure out why I’d never seen any of this stuff before. Neither Monte nor my parents ever mentioned to me that there were so many artifacts left from our family.”
He rambled on absentmindedly as he unlocked the trunk and started to pull out various papers and items that were obviously old and fragile. I waited impatiently yet, scared to my very core of what I was about to discover. I could almost hear Jackson, Emily and Robert’s voices ordering me to return to my room, not to look at any of it—the dangers of knowing too much about a world that I was only starting to discover. I pushed their voices aside and plopped down beside my dad. The curiosity was too great and there was no way I could stop myself. I wanted to know everything. I had to know!
“You know, I think you might be right about the journals. My brother must have seen how fragile they were, if they were anything like this other stuff, and recopied them. It certainly seems like something he would do. Family history was always something that intrigued him a great deal so it didn’t surprise me much to discover the contents of this trunk and that it was left in his possession,” he shrugged casually and handed me a faded white binder.
I held it in my hand shaking slightly. The butterflies were dancing around in my stomach and I struggled to calm my breathing. I didn’t want him to notice anything peculiar.
“Look, pumpkin, I wish I could sit down here with you and sort through all this stuff, but I really have to get this presentation done for a meeting I have first thing tomorrow morning.” My dad rose back to his feet. “Don’t worry about putting the trunk back in the closet tonight. When you’re done looking through this stuff, just close the trunk and leave it here. I’ll put it away tomorrow,” he patted me on the head. “Have fun and don’t stay up too late.”
“All right, thanks, Daddy,” I managed to squeak out before he disappeared.
I sat with my legs crossed in front of me and the album across my lap, surrounded with all of the answers I ever wanted to know about my life there. Before and after. I closed my eyes trying to steady my accelerating heart rate and the uncontrollable shaking in my hands. A part of me knew I shouldn’t be doing this, but I truly couldn’t help myself. This was for me. It was far beyond time that I knew the truth—the whole truth.
I slowly turned back the cover of the album. It crackled with age and the black pages felt like they were about to crumble under my light touch. There on the front page was a faded black and white photograph of my Uncle Monte in his Union uniform. There was no smile across his face, just an intensity and fear of what was to come. I closely studied his features. They were so like my father Shane’s. Yet, I could also see a trace of Patrick in his eyes and around his lips. It was so weird to comprehend how they were so intertwined with one another.
I turned the page slowly. On the backside of the front page was a photograph of my uncle again in his military uniform but beside him was Vivian in a wedding gown. She held a slight smile across her lips, as did he. Even though I already knew that he survived the war, it was so incredible to see him with his true love. The way he spoke of her in his journals, his decision to leave this plane of existence behind and live solely with her no longer surprised me in the slightest. His love for her was intense and true.
My eyes drifted over to the page opposite and my breath caught in my chest. There I was, standing beside the happy couple on their wedding day. I was wearing a very frilly, old-fashioned dress with little white gloves and my hair adorned in curls around my face. Even though I looked totally different than any other photo of me at this age, there was no mistaking it was me. The smile across my lips was slightly wider than the bride and groom’s. I looked very happy, delicate, and so beautiful. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the image of myself. Somehow, even with all the episodes, glimpses, and visions, this was the first time EVE had felt so amazingly real to me.
I reluctantly turned the page again with great care. There were several pictures of a baby boy fastened to the page. None of which I recognized. I carefully turned the page again. There, I found photos of a toddler boy sitting on a rocking chair and another of him playing with a toy wagon on the floor. I assumed that this had to be one of my uncle’s sons, but I had no idea which. The next few pages were photos of my uncle, his wife, and his boys.
I began to casually flip the pages only glancing at the faces that stared up at me until I turned the page and felt like someone punched me in the stomach. There was my entire family, well, my family there. My parents, all four brothers, and me, somewhere in my early teens I think, looking up at me with a knowing look upon their faces. I could barely breathe. I had seen all these faces before in my mind’s eye so they were not unfamiliar to me, but this was real. They were real! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing in front of me, holding in my hands—proof! They had actually lived during that time period. All that Jackson and his parents had told me was true!
My hands began to shake uncontrollably and I felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest. My breathing quickened as if there was no longer any oxygen in the room to fill my lungs.
The strange, yet beautiful, gowns that my mother and I wore were breathtaking. The men were all dressed in suits and hats. I only wished the photo was in color so I could see the brilliant hues of the fabrics and the background. The picture was taken on the front porch of the house—this house—my house! These faces were the ones that had been haunting me for weeks. To see them so clearly in this photo stirred so many mixed emotions, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling or if I could even put a label on it.
Slowly my eyes slid over to the adjoining page. There stood Robert, Emily, and a much younger Jackson, Alexander, and Phoebe. The five of them looked like a model of the perfect upper scale Victorian era family. The three familiar faces instantly made me feel incredibly guilty for looking at these pictures of the world I longed to be a part of. I shifted my eyes back to my family one more time before I turned the page over.
The rest of the album was filled with various photos of our family, mostly of Uncle Monte’s boys and Vivian. I closed that album and set it aside nervously picking up the next one. I looked up at the ceiling wondering what the rest of my family was doing. I was sure my dad was still in his office and my mother had been successful in her silent avoidance of me. Ethan had stopped coming by my room to talk and was only being polite now to Jackson when they rode back and forth to school together. Although Jackson hadn’t mentioned anything to me, I knew Ethan’s behavior was bothering him also.
The next several albums I flipped through had pictures of relatives from the early 1920s and up. One clearly had belonged to my brother James and was filled with pictures of his family. Finally, I came across an album that belonged to William and Olivia. A smile stretched wide across my face as I recognized the wedding photo of them on the first page. Standing on either side of them was Jackson and me. I stared at the picture for a long time. It looked as though it could have been taken yesterday, with the exception of the styles. Olivia’s wedding gown was so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
The following page contained a picture of William and Olivia, who was holding a little baby boy in her arms. I stared at her face for a long moment. It was exactly as I recalled it in my mind’s eye. She was a pretty, young woman who actually looked much younger than she really was. The baby was adorable and looked exactly like his father. The chubby little baby with dark blond hair smiled happily up at the person taking the photograph. He looked to be maybe four or five months old. I knew Olivia was due in March, so I figured this picture had to be taken this upcoming summer. It all seemed so weird to think that I was looking at photos that were one part my family history and yet in another events that haven’t occurred yet. I was still unable to wrap my brain around it fully and if I concentrated too hard on it, the concept drove me nuts.
The next several pages were covered with photos of the little boy at various ages. He was such a beautiful child, and with each passing stage, he resembled William more and more. The following page showed the same little guy on William’s lap sitting next to his mother who was now holding another baby boy in her arms. Both parents appeared very happy as did the chubby little boy who looked about three on his daddy’s lap. I watched their children change through various stages of their childhood with each passing page. They were joined again by a third brother several years after the second and eventually a fourth before I reached the end of the album.
I closed the book in my lap and let out a deep sigh. I rolled over in my mind the idea that the Olivia I was currently aware of was only a few months pregnant, yet I was looking at aged photographs of individuals who had surely passed away now in this current reality. The concept of it was giving me a headache.
I picked up the next album without giving it much thought. Careful as always, I opened the front cover and a gasp of air escaped from deep inside me. Staring up at me was mine and Jackson’s wedding photo. The picture captured us from our midsections on up and our faces were clearly shown. Jackson had his arm around my waist and I held a bouquet of violets and lilies in my hands. There were no words to describe the rush of emotions that poured out of me. Jackson was a breathtaking sight to behold and I could not have looked more perfect if I had been professionally done up in today’s standards. We were standing in front of the hearth in the room upstairs. I absorbed every detail I could take in. I lightly traced my fingers longingly over the photograph. Then my brain flashed light a bolt.
Did my dad see this picture as well? How could he not have recognized the two people staring back off the pages? It is so obvious that it is Jackson and I. We look exactly the same, especially Jackson. Everything about him with the exception of the clothes is identical. There is simply no denying it is us in this picture. How in the world did my dad rationalize this in his own mind? The resemblance between his Jocelyn and the Jocelyn in this picture and the man standing beside her and my current fiancé is uncanny and must have boggled his mind for sure. Is that why he wanted me to look through these alone? Is he curious as to my reaction once I notice it for myself? Is he testing me?
I had no clue what could possibly be running through his head at this moment. My only hope was that he hadn’t taken the time to look through all the albums since this was next to the bottom of the pile. I was almost afraid to turn the next page and see where my life was taking me next. Jackson’s voice screamed out in the back of my mind warning me against knowing too much about my future in the past. I hesitated, my fingers toying lightly with the edge of the page.
Did I really need to know what was in store for us? Should I be so curious or just let the events unfold over the natural course of time? I let out a small laugh. Natural course of time. There is nothing natural about my course of time. There never has been apparently. What difference could this possibly make now? It’s not like I actually have the power to change anything about the past anyway.
I held my breath and flipped the page over. There was Jackson and I standing beside William, Olivia, Elizabeth and Lee on our wedding day. See, nothing to be afraid of. I’m just being silly. The next several pages were various photos of different family members on our wedding day. Completely harmless.
The next page showed a picture of Jackson and me standing on the front porch with our arms around each other’s waists looking happy. But the porch was not the one on this house, or the Chandler’s home. It had to be our new home. I sucked in a large amount of air and almost choked. It was Jenna’s, or Olivia’s parents’ home! Why are we standing on the porch of their house? It didn’t make any sense. I rattled it around in my brain, but the images I had previously seen of that time told me nothing. It made no sense at all. Perhaps we just happened to be over there visiting the new owners and someone took a picture of us on the porch. It was the only explanation I could reason.
I slowly turned the page again. There were various photos of us together or us alone in numerous settings. I could tell with each passing page, the subtle differences in our faces, maturity setting in on each of us. It showed me the passing years as Jackson and I were obviously still childless. In my heart I knew it was because during this time, Jackson was keeping true to his word to my father that I would finish grad school without having a child. The thought of it pleased me to no end, knowing that this man truly loved me a great deal and put my dreams and the goals that I held for myself before his own of having a family.
However, the following page showed me standing sideways with a clearly extended belly and Jackson’s arms wrapped happily around it. A smiled stretched across my face from ear to ear. So we do have a family, eventually.
It was so strange looking at a picture of me pregnant. I felt a mixture of pure joy and horrifying terror. My fingers played with the edge of the page. Do I really want to know what we have? Would it ruin it for me when the time finally comes?
All that I had dreamed of had already come true. Is it selfish to ask for more? Desire to know more? I decided quickly that I didn’t care. I was going to be selfish, I had to know. Besides, I probably wouldn’t remember any of this anyhow since the barrier was still pretty much intact.
The next page showed me holding an angelic baby boy with dark eyes and dark wavy hair like Jackson’s. I stared down at his tiny little face as tears covered my cheeks. He was perfect in every way. I wanted to reach out and hold him, cradle him in my arms, never let him go.
Now I realized why this was such a bad idea—the knowing. My heart physically ached for this child, my child. I could almost feel him in my arms and now they felt so empty. I ran my fingertip lightly over his face. It was as if I could actually feel the softness of his skin against mine, smell his scent, the fine texture of his hair against my cheek. I didn’t want to wait another eight or ten years to have this child. I wanted him now.
I never should have turned the page. My heart broke as I carefully closed the album and set it apart from all the rest. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed uncontrollably for the child that was still years away from my reality.
I placed all the stuff back into the trunk. I hadn’t put a dent in all that was in there. I would ask my dad in the morning to leave it out a little longer so I could spend more time with it. I was sure he wouldn’t mind. I straightened myself back up and picked up the album of Jackson and me and headed to my bedroom. The house was silent as I moved around. I had lost all track of time while I was in the basement and I was guessing it was later than I had thought.
The alarm clock on my nightstand informed me that it was two in the morning when I arrived back in my room. I picked up my cell phone off my pillow feeling horrible that I had forgotten to call Jackson back after getting off the phone so abruptly with him earlier. My phone told me that I had five missed calls, four from him and one from Jenna.
I stacked my uncle’s journals on my nightstand next to my cell. My body felt emotionally drained as I climbed into bed with the album on my lap. I flipped open the cover for one last look at the first wedding picture of us when my cell phone went off again. I reached for it quickly before it had the chance to make any more noise and possibly wake my parents.
“Hello,” I whispered.
“Jocelyn, are you all right?” Jackson’s voice sounded alarmed.
“What? I’m fine. Do you know what time it is?” I couldn’t believe he was calling my house in the middle of the night.
“Yes. I am sorry, but I was worried. You never called me back and your bedroom light was still on. I just noticed you moving around so I wanted to catch you before you went to bed to make sure everything were all right,” he explained in a hurt voice.
“I’m sorry. I got busy with my dad and lost track of time. Were you watching my room?”
“Not really,” he sounded embarrassed. “I was only keeping an eye out since I had called you several times and you never answered. I wasn’t sure if you were fighting with Amy or Ethan or what was going on.”
“No, nothing like that. I was in the basement with my dad. He was showing me some old stuff he’d come across cleaning out the storage room. No big deal.” I wanted to sound as casual as possible considering I was staring at a wedding photo of the two of us from about one hundred-thirty years ago. I shook my head in disbelief at the entire situation and struggled to keep myself from busting out laughing at the absurdity of it all.
“It must have been pretty interesting if it held your attention for five hours.” The tone of his voice shifted slightly.
“It was…” I stumbled. I flipped over the next page as my other family and friends smiled up at me. A part of me couldn’t wait to get to sleep to be with them again.
“What did he show you?”
“Nothing.” I was no longer paying much attention to him as I became enraptured in the photos of our other life again.
“If it was nothing, then why are you being so secretive about it?”
“Just some old family things. Nothing really.”
“Which side of the family?” His voice sounded distant and faded, only a slight murmur in my ears. I wasn’t paying much attention and had stupidly flipped the forbidden page. There he was again, my son!
“Jocelyn? Which side of the family?”
Silence.
“Jocelyn? Hello? Are you there?”
I could no longer hear his muffled words. The little boy had captured my full attention, nothing else in the world existed.
“Jocelyn? Will you please answer me? Jocelyn?”
Silent tears returned and ran freely down my face. My heart was physically being torn from my chest and the pain was unbearable.
I numbly turned the page over and my little angel had grown even more. He appeared to be happy and healthy as he crawled across the floor. The next shot showed him taking his first steps with Jackson kneeling beside him ready to catch him if he should happen to fall. My child had such a proud expression on his face as if he knew this was an important moment in his young life and he had made a great achievement. The next page showed me sitting next to my son who was somewhere between two and three years old, and from the looks of it I was pregnant again.
The tears continued to flow freely and I had all but forgotten my future husband on the phone and instead was lost to a world that lay before me. I couldn’t hear Jackson calling out to me with panic in his voice. I didn’t even notice when the phone had gone dead or that I had let it slip from my shoulder and fall beside me on the bed. The entire outside world had disappeared around me.
With the flip of a page, again I saw Jackson and me in front of the hearth where we had gotten married. He was holding our oldest son while I cradled our new son in my arms!
Two boys! I have two boys!
The reality of it floored me. I turned the page once more and my youngest angel had grown a little more. He was perhaps six months old, barely sitting up beside his brother. Our oldest son looked like an exact copy of Jackson with the same black wavy hair and dimples, yet he appeared to have my brown eyes instead of Jackson’s emerald green. But it was hard to tell from the black and white pictures. On the other hand, our youngest seemed to favor more of me than his father. He had a small trace of freckles around his nose exactly like mine and what appeared to be my hair color.
I brushed away the tears again and numbly turned the page once more. My boys were growing up right before my eyes. Their chubby little bodies seemed to slim down as they got older and they looked to be very happy children, always with big smiles covering their little faces.
The following page caused a startled squeak to escape my lips when I saw we were also blessed with a daughter. There before my eyes was a photo of our happy little family at the white gazebo where Jackson had proposed. Our little boys stood on the bench on either side of us and I held a little girl in my arms. She was adorned in a long flowing gown and was sucking on her thumb. It appeared to be a beautiful spring day and all the lilies around us were in full bloom. My sons were wearing little knickers with suspenders and buttoned up shirts and little ties. They each held their hats in their hands and smiled up at me. Jackson looked as handsome as ever and even had a trace of gray starting to show in his black hair. I was also happy to see that I appeared to still be thin and maintaining my figure. Then again, I probably wasn’t able to breathe being stuffed into a corset. I smiled through my tears but I couldn’t take my eyes away from my family.
Nothing else in the world mattered to me now. I was positive that I had made the right decision for the course of my life. I was going to be able to go to college and grad school, graduate and have my family and a successful career. I was sure of it. It was all going to work out. I had the proof before my eyes. Jackson and I were going to be together always. This marriage was successful, going to last. Nothing was going to come between us. We were going to have two beautiful sons and a gorgeous little girl and they all appeared to be happy and healthy. I wiped the tears away again but still could not turn away. I no longer cared that I had to get up in a couple of hours and go to class. It really didn’t matter if the roof caved in and the house fell down all around me. I couldn’t tear my eyes off my beautiful family.
“Jocelyn?” A low voice came out of nowhere causing me to jump out of my skin. My eyes immediately landed on my door where Jackson stood leaning against the frame.
“Jackson,” I whispered. “What in the world do you think you’re doing? My dad will kill you if he finds you in here.” I quickly shoved the album under my comforter and brushed the tears off my cheeks.
Jackson quietly closed the door behind him before walking over to my bed and taking a seat beside me. “What is going on with you? You would not answer me and I could hear you crying on the phone.”
I brushed my cheeks off again. I couldn’t seem to get the tears to stop flowing. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” I gave my best attempt at a smile. “How did you get in here?”
“The basement window,” he blushed. “I am afraid your brother William and I know every nook and cranny in this house and how to sneak in and out of it undetected.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered shaking my head.
“Jocelyn,” he placed his hands over mine and stared intently at me. “Tell me what is going on.”
I hated it when he did this, it made it impossible for me to deceive him. “Nothing is going on. You really should leave. We can talk tomorrow. I need to get some sleep and so do you.” I tried to change the subject to give me some time to figure out something to tell him, anything but the truth.
“I am not going anywhere until I find out what you are hiding. Something has clearly upset you. Something you obviously do not want me to know about.” He raised his eyebrows at me and I felt like a little kid.
In one swift motion, Jackson reached under my comforter and grabbed the album before I could do anything to stop him.
“Hey, give me that!” I nearly shouted as the hysterics built inside me. “It’s very old. You’re going to damage it.” But I was too late. He had already turned his back to me and opened the front cover.
“Oh my God…” he gasped in a low voice that trailed off into nothing. He was stiff and silent for several minutes before he turned to face me with pure horror in his beautiful green eyes. “Where did you get this?”
I exhaled deeply and explained to him how my dad had found my uncle’s journals.
Jackson sat silently and listened. He never turned the page of the album to see what came after our wedding picture. He just sat frozen and pale and stared at me in disbelief. Even after I stopped talking, he was silent for some time.
“Say something, Jackson. Please,” I begged, but his eyes were unfocused. I wasn’t even sure if he could hear me. “Jackson, this wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know what was in the trunk. I had no idea there were photos of us and our family in there. How could I have known that?” The tears returned stronger than ever but he still remained silent.
Ten minutes of agony passed before Jackson seemed to return back to the present. He gently closed the album and slid it off his lap onto my bed. His eyes never looked up to meet mine. They seemed to be somewhere far off in the distance.
“I have to go,” he whispered in a soft voice as he slowly stood up. It was almost as if the world was moving in slow motion and nothing was real.
“Jackson? No! Wait! Talk to me!” I nearly said in a normal tone reaching out for his arm. But he had managed to pull it away before I had the chance to make contact with it. He silently shook his head and slowly walked to my door.
I jumped out of bed and leapt between him and my door. I knew he wouldn’t make a scene in the middle of the night with my parents asleep down the hall. I guess he knew I wouldn’t either.
“Jackson, please talk to me. What’s wrong? Why are you upset with me about this?” I blocked his departure and placed both my hands on each of his arms. His eyes finally focused back on me and locked on mine.
“Not now, Jocelyn.” His voice was low but firm. I had never heard him take such a tone with me before. “Later. I need to calm down. You will have to drive yourself to school in the morning.”
His expression told me he was serious and I needed to back off. I let go of his arms and stepped aside giving him space to leave my room. He didn’t frighten me, but I knew I had crossed the line and it was one I really didn’t want to dance along.
Jackson left my room without uttering another word. I stood there quietly and watched him leave, not having a clue as to what to say to bring him back. I had never seen him behave that way and I didn’t know what to make of it. I slowly walked back over to the bed and crawled under the covers. I picked the album back up and stared at our picture. A part of me half expected it to have changed, like in the Back to the Future movie when future actions had changed the past and the picture Michael J. Fox was carrying of him and his siblings had started to disappear. I laughed at myself, yet I caught myself closely examining the photo making sure a part of it hadn’t begun to fade or change in some way. I felt silly and closed the album and slid it under my bed for safekeeping.
I flipped off the lights and wandered over to the bay window, pulling the drapes back slightly. I wondered what Jackson was doing at this moment. Was he across the street explaining to his parents what had happened? I couldn’t help but worry what they would think of the photos and the implications of them. I knew they were going to be extremely upset with me. Even though it wasn’t technically my fault, I knew I shouldn’t have looked through that trunk because I had found exactly what I was hoping I would find and that fact alone made me feel much worse.