The Hart family was a busy one. Between Jake’s intense school schedule, which included debate team practices and baseball in the spring, and her parents’ demanding jobs at the university, it was difficult to get everyone together during the week. A few years back, Maria had been busy too with softball travel teams and piano lessons which she never quite excelled in but muscled through. Since Devon had passed, her activities had dropped to her chemistry and geometry tutoring sessions. Even her part as a stage hand in the school play had been forced upon her by Julie and a couple other concerned girls.
Every Sunday and Wednesday, her parents insisted on a real family dinner at the table. Even though it usually consisted of a Stoffer’s frozen lasagna and microwaved broccoli, her parents still planned on it religiously. Even more so since January. Maria hated it. Sitting across from the empty chair that once been Devon’s was torturous, even as her father and Jake exchanged witty banter over their glasses of Nesquik chocolate milk. 703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9StiUQ1N01
Mom and dad had encouraged all of them to seek counseling after it happened. Her parents went to one counselor together while Jake and Maria went to two separate child therapists. They were all dealing with their grief but not as a unit. It made her feel like an island in her once cohesive family.
“I got a call from Julie’s mom the other day, honey.” Maria’s mother laid a hand over her own.
Maria was a dead ringer for her mother’s side. Mom was from a large Mexican American family of girls, five daughters in total. Stella Flores-Hart was the eldest. The second in line, Aunt Valerie, lived a couple towns over with her own two daughters. The eldest Sara was starting her freshman year at the university in the fall. She was also planning on attending the nursing school there afterwards.
“Really?” Maria struggled past a bite of garlic bread.
She missed when they were children and her mother would cook her grandmother’s recipes. Ever since Devon had left for his basic training, her mother hadn’t shown much interest in the kitchen, even in the rich, Mexican meals she’d grown up eating.
“She said you were a little nervous in history class the other day, something about a video concerning world war one?” Mom folded her long fingers into a steeple in front of her face, just like one of the grief counselors Maria had been seeing. “I want to know why.”
“Just felt a little overwhelmed.”
“Because of Devon?” Mom whispered between the two of them, dad and Jake engaged intensely over his latest project in organic chemistry. He had been excelling in the class, of course. “Or is it because of everything that happened in the lab at the university?”
“Mom. I told you that I went back to 1912. Not 1914.” Maria stuffed a bite of pasta into her mouth. It sucked having such a smart person for a mother sometimes.
“You said you met some young people while you were there. I didn’t know if perhaps the thought of them going off to war was too upsetting for you. Maybe we should talk to your father and rethink this project of ours. I’m scared we were too hasty about it.”
Maria’s pulse sped up. “Oh no, mom. It’s cool. Hey, I might be going to prom this year.”
Mom’s eyebrows lifted at the change of subject, just as Maria had hoped. “Charlie, did you hear that?”
Dad looked over from across the table, brushing some crumbs from his Red Sox t-shirt. “No, what’s up?”
“She might be going to prom!” Her mother gave a small smile with her pert lips. “Isn’t that great?”
“Thank God you’ll actually be socializing with someone other than Julie Dale,” Jake quipped, earning a soft cuff on the back of his head by dad.
Dad cleared his throat. “That’s wonderful, sweetie. But who’s the upperclassman? Do we know their family?”
“It’s Chris Cecil, he’s a junior in my chemistry class.”
Jake furrowed his brow. “Why is he a junior if he’s in your freshman chemistry class?”
“Because not everyone is as big of a dork as you,” Maria replied. “He’s a really nice guy though. He carried my books to class for me.”
“Aw! Did you hear that, Charlie?” Her mother gushed, clearing her and Maria’s empty plates. “He sounds like a nice boy.”
“Honey. All he did was carry some books.”
“For boys today, that’s a big deal.” Mom shot a look at Jake. “I’d better be hearing about you doing the same for the girls at your school too.”
Jake snorted. “Sounds sexist to me. Like they can’t carry their own books because of their weak female arms or something.” That comment earned him another cuff on the head.
Maria relaxed, thankful the topic of her panic attack in class had been evaded. She didn’t want to give her parents any concern that she was incapable of returning to 1912. It had been an absolute miracle they had agreed to it in the first place, much of which she owed Jake and the head of their university Physics department after he’d reviewed their proposal.
She didn’t understand the logistics of the machine, but she was aware that it didn’t work well with older subjects. Her parents, for example, could hop back for ten minutes at a time but soon had to leave or else there were severe medical reactions. Her father had battled a migraine for a week after staying a half hour one time in the year 1972. They thought he’d suffered an aneurysm. After a person passed their mid-twenties, the medical issues for time travelers sky rocketed.
When the time came in August, her parents said they would return to Sussex, England 1912 for five minutes before sending her own her way, if only to make sure everything was as safe as she claimed. The English countryside in the early twentieth century was as peaceful as it could get, she had no concerns about that.
But if they thought she was emotionally unstable, especially after her brother’s sudden death, it could put things into jeopardy. So she went to her counseling sessions like a good little girl and decided to put more effort into appearing ‘normal’ again.
“I’m so glad to hear about this, sweetheart. And I know you’ll get those grades up in chemistry.” Mom kissed the top of her head and set a bowl of chocolate ice cream in front of her. “I’m so proud of you.”
Maria was encouraged by her parents’ reaction. After a couple weeks as Chris’s chem lab partner, he asked her to prom. He was a nice guy, classically handsome with wavy brown hair and straight, white teeth. And once the news spread that Chris had asked her, the looks she received from Katie Morrrison were totally worth it.
Katie had played on the softball team with Maria for years and they had constantly competed over the first base position. Katie had won it, though Maria believed it was only because her mom was the coach. Now she had a little comeuppance of her own, however petty that made Maria feel.
Julie was over the moon, prancing the school halls as though she was the one going to the prom. Her mother took a day off from work to take Maria dress shopping. Even Chris’s mom was thrilled, discussing plans with Maria’s mom about where they were going to get the corsage and boutonniere. Everyone was thrilled, it distracted them from the grief that hung over the Hart home like a cloud.
But Maria saw it as a means to an end. It gave the impression of a grounded and healthy teenager. All the while, she was staying up into the wee hours. Pretending to study for finals, she was really researching John Kipling and the events surrounding the beginning of the war. The binder Jake had given her was soon overflowing till she had to buy a larger one. Thankfully, her local library had lots of resources. Coupled with her parents’ lightening fast DSL, she was soon scrounging for photo scanned letters and battle field maps.
Any picture of John she could find, she pinned inside a well-worn copy of The Jungle Book from a used bookstore. Her favorite one was of him sitting on a bench, his legs splayed. He wore a smart looking sport coat with a bowtie and was leveling the camera with a wry glance. The glass of his thick lenses glinted on that bright day. It was the same look he had given her while she had recounted her story of travelling back from 2002.
Chris was sweet to her the days leading up to the dance. He asked about her favorite flowers and if she wanted to go with a group to dinner beforehand or just the two of them. Maria liked Chris but said she’d rather go with the group because that would make the dance more fun. The prom committee had opted for a nicer venue and better band instead of offering a meal that year.
Despite this, Maria was underwhelmed by the event. And her night with Chris. With her black hair curled into an updo on the top of her head and a wine red dress that made the lean lines of her body appear even longer, she forced smiles in pictures as she pinned the boutonniere to Chris’s rented tux.
The dance was a little dull since it wasn’t attended by her class. Chris was a gentleman from the beginning to the end, but the conversation dragged. It made her wish she was back in her room, reading another encyclopedic book about the British Expeditionary Force or the retreat at Mons. As the last dance wound down, with Chris’s arms around her waist during a slow dance, she had to force herself to the present. But 2002 was the last place she wanted to be.
After Chris dropped her off with an awkward hug on her doorstep and she informed her eager mother about all the details, she faked a yawn and made a quick exit to her room. Only to find Jake at her desk, flipping through her binder.
“How was your night?”
Maria removed the sheer shawl from her shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“Just looking over your research. This is really well done. If you had put this much effort into chemistry, you wouldn’t be failing it.”
“I’m not failing it, I have a D,” Maria said with some dignity. “Why are you going through my things?”
Jake stood from the desk. “I’m worried about you, sis.”
Maria walked over to the bureau, taking off her chandelier earrings. “Why?”
“Because it’s a good thing to learn about the time you’re visiting, this is a really special privilege after all. But your behavior is leaning towards obsessive.”
“What are you talking about? I should be learning as much as I can. An astronaut doesn’t launch into space without proper education and training first.”
“But an astronaut doesn’t exchange love letters with the aliens either.” He picked up The Jungle Book on the desk behind him and took out the letter from John. “And how many pictures did you print out of him anyway? Did you actually try to colorize one?”
The blood rushed into her cheeks as she stomped forward and snatched the letter from his hand. “This is private.”
“I should think so with him claiming he can’t let you go. And you saying you can’t say goodbye.” Jake’s voice softened, the lines on his forehead smoothing out as he sighed. “Maria, you know that’s dangerous kind of talk. Because someday, no matter what either of you feel, you are going to have to let go. You will say goodbye. It’s inevitable. We both know it.”
Maria’s heart crashed into her stomach. She had built John up so much in her mind, pouring all her hope into their fragile connection, that she hadn’t allowed herself to consider that final date beneath his picture.
1915. A mere three years after 1912 and he would be dead. He already was dead and had been for decades. She just didn’t want to think about it.
Folding the letter, she bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “I hear you, Jake.”
Her brother shifted his weight on his feet and sniffed. “You looked pretty tonight by the way.”
Maria snorted, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “Thanks.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“It was okay.”
Jake stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be cruel. I was just worried about you. Maybe considering everything with Devon, this whole project is a bad idea.”
“Don’t you dare tell mom and dad that. Please, Jake.” The tears flowed freely now. “I promise I’m alright. And I’ll stop researching so much, I need to anyway with finals coming up.”
Jake sighed and looked away. “Okay. I won’t mention it to them.”
“Thanks.”
“I love you, sis.”
“Love you too.”
After he closed the door behind him, Maria slid the copy of Kipling’s classic off the desk and curled up in her bed, tucking her bare feet under her chiffon skirts. She fell asleep like that, clutching the novel but dreaming of Devon walking through the English countryside.
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