“Our lives are so surreal.” Jake scrolled through a series of numbers on the monitor, mom standing behind him and hanging over the back of his chair. “Yes honey, you can go back to the year 1912 since you passed your chemistry final.”
Their mother swatted him at his winy impression of her voice. “Watch yourself or we won’t let you work all those nerdy computations on the black board.”
Jake’s dark eyes cut back to the rotating chalkboard at the rear of the lab, his father’s messy handwriting etching out numbers and symbols. “Bet half of them are wrong anyway.”
Mom smacked him again.
“Stop hitting or I’ll tell my therapist on you.”
“Oh I dare you,” Mom laughed.
Behind the make shift changing screen by the chalkboard, there was some shuffling and a crash, followed by a muted howl.
“You alright, honey?” Mom called out, ignoring Jake as he chuckled to himself at the sound of his sister’s agony.
Mom moved behind the changing screen to find Maria struggling to pin her silk stockings at her thighs, holding her breath as she bent over but was prohibited by the corset.
“I thought you said this was an unboned corset, like the training bra of corsets?” Maria straightened, perching her hands on her waist.
“Edwardian corsets for girls your age didn’t give that hour glass Victorian silhouette,” mom said, kneeling beside her and hooking the stockings for her. “They were to help support posture, not squeeze your guts out of place. But they still aren't easy to move in.”
“That’s a lovely image. The guts and everything.” Maria shimmied to adjust the straps of the knee length silk slip under the corset.
Mom turned her around and readjusted the laces on the corset. Maria had a slender figure anyway, so it wasn’t uncomfortable, as long as she didn’t have to bend over. Mom picked up the white dress draped across a nearby chair and removed the hanger.
“You still sure about this?” She pulled the gown over Maria's’ head and began to fasten the mother of pearl buttons down her spine.
The dress was a reproduction her parents had ordered with specific requirements; no zippers, plastic snaps or synthetic fabrics. Breezy cotton for the summer months, it fell to her ankles and brushed the tops of her shiny, black boots. Fine lace paneling around the high neck and down the sleeves demurely showed skin beneath. The sleeves went to her elbows and ended with lacy flounces, also in tiers at the bottom of her skirts.
Mother turned her towards the cheap mirror leaning against the wall as she tied the baby pink sash at her waist. Maria’s breath caught in her throat as she studied her reflection. Her black hair was curled into ruffles at her temples and then caught in a loose braid down her back, tied off by a matching blush ribbon. Her warm skin tone looked golden against the white. She hadn’t felt half this lovely before prom.
“Yes,” she said, her insides fluttering as she ran her hands over the fabric. “I’m quite sure.”
Mother held her upper arms and rested her chin against Maria’ shoulder. “If your father comes back and says he isn’t sure about this…”
“Yes, I know.”
“And you’ll leave it alone?”
Maria couldn’t imagine ever leaving it alone, ever leaving behind what had happened to her. Her life was now bound up with that world. But she nodded just the same to satisfy her mom.
The padlocked door of the steel room squeaked open. They emerged from behind the screen as Jake helped their dad open the door. Her father was decked out in an Edwardian suit, complete with bowler hat and cane. His family laughed as he swung the cane around with a grin.
“I could get used to this thing,” dad crowed, taking off his heat and loosening his neck tie. “What did call fashionable men back then?”
“A dandy?” His wife smirked and smoothed back his unruly dark curls from his pale forehead.
“Yeah that’s it, I think I make a good dandy.”
Maria gave him an incredulous look. Her father was the kind that wore socks with sandals and had a collection of Red Sox shirts he wore daily. She had a hard time thinking of her father as an Edwardian dandy.
Jake shook his head with a smirk. “I think they’d kick you out of the club once they saw your impressive collection of Birkenstocks and flip flops.”
“What’s wrong with flip flops?”
“Nothing if you’re Jimmy Buffett.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “Alright fine. That’s enough. Charlie, seriously. How did things look out there?”
Dad turned towards Maria and gave a low whistle. “Is this my baby girl? You look like you’re ready to board the Titanic.”
“I certainly hope not,” Mom quipped. “C’mon, Charlie.”
Dad gave a winning smile. “Coast is clear. Honestly, I don’t know why you are so determined to go back, Maria. It’s pretty countryside but it looks dull as anything. You could wander around the woods behind our house and see much the same stuff.”
As Maria moved towards the door, Jake manned the keypad that locked the door. “Oh she has her reasons,” he said under his breath.
Maria swatted him on the shoulder and peeked back at her parents to make sure they hadn’t heard. They were already invested in their computer monitors, hooking in all the right numbers and sequences. The keypad beeped. She had done this a dozen times before, a few trips all by herself. Why was she so nervous this time?
“You look like something out of ‘Picnic at Hanging Rock,’” Jake commented, grunting as he pulled open the steel door. “They made us read that book and watch the movie in school. I hated it.”
“Thank you, I guess?”
“You’re welcome.” He caught her eye, the smirk disappearing from his face. “Be careful out there, sis. Okay? Don’t get too caught up in all of it.”
Maria shifted her weight in her tight boots, the toes pinching. She looked away with a light laugh. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”
Before she stepped past the threshold into the gleaming cell, her parents joined them at the door. Mom’s jaw was clenched and she clutched dad’s elbow. A nervous smile played at dad's mouth that didn’t reach his blue eyes. Maria prayed they weren’t getting second thoughts.
“We’re only giving you two hours, from noon till 2PM on August 10th, 1912,” dad said, a forced lightness in his voice.
“Okay.”
Mom stepped forward and clipped her charm bracelet onto her wrist. Any incriminating charm that hinted at future inventions or notions had been taken away. She twisted it to the back and flipped her St. Christopher’s medal. On the back was a pin sized red dot, it almost looked like a shard of a ruby.
“You won’t be able to communicate with us, but this can alert us if you need to come home right away. Just press your thumb against it. It’s a failsafe button,” dad explained.
Mom leaned forward and pressed her lips to her forehead. “Use it without question. If anything feels wrong or dangerous. You understand me?”
Maria nodded as her mother returned to her dad’s side. It hit her how much this project meant to them. Only months after the death of her older brother, they were allowing her to travel back ninety years in time.
What if something went wrong? What if the machine broke down, even after over ten years of trials, and she was stuck forever in 1912? The thought hadn’t occurred to her till then. It also made heart drop a little. Her parents loved their children but how much did their research really matter to them in comparison? It must be almost equal.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back in couple hours,” Maria said breathlessly. “You guys are acting like I haven’t done this before a million times.”
Jake wrinkled his nose in criticism as he moved to shut the door. “More like ten or fifteen.”
The steel door closed, and the lights flickered off leaving Maria in the pitch black. The cell was soundproof. Between the black and the silence, it almost provided a sensory deprivation experience. Maria clenched her sweaty palms and closed her eyes, counting backwards from one hundred. Her heart thundered in her ears. She thought of John Kipling waiting on the other side and waited.
A fragrant breeze brushed past her cheek. Maria exhaled and opened her eyes to vivid green and birdsong.
ns 18.68.41.175da2
