15 Minutes: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rewind Series) (6 page)

I’m
so heartbroken, and the air is so thick, I gag on it. My senses intensify. The grass
seems greener, the air is cooler, and my breath more labored. I close my eyes
for a moment, and when I open them again Rick is watching me with pools of
pity.

It
makes me sick and puts a metallic taste in my mouth. “Better go,” I whisper.
“Not sure why I thought this was a good idea.”

“Wait
a second, Lara.” His tone slows my marching feet, and I pause without turning
back. I don’t think I could stomach looking into his eyes one more time today.

“If
you need help, with your dad. Well, let me know. What I do remember is he was
good to me, so let me know.”

Taking
a deep breath, I nod. I try to say thanks, but nothing comes out. Instead, I
start walking. I leave the river, heading toward the closest T stop, but my
feet are sore and I’m exhausted. I stand on the corner and wait for a cab.

The
hairs on the back of my neck go up, and when I glance back, I see two men. They
both are wearing leather coats with sunglasses, and one has a tattoo of a gold
dragon going up his neck. Whoever they are, they are bad news, and I can’t help
but think of my diary entry as I watch them cross the street. If they don’t
change their trajectory, they will be on me in seconds.

I
flag down a cab and give him my address, happy to be safe. The back is air
conditioned but smells of mold and old socks. I go through my wallet to find
cash, but all I have is my credit card. That might come in handy. I pull it out
and something wedged behind the plastic falls out.

A
key.

I’m
the first one home, and I make a mad dash for the kitchen. I pour two glasses
of milk and find a big platter to lay out cookies and candies. I don’t know
what Mike and Molly like, but I’m sure no kid can resist a bribe made of sugar.
I place the platter on the table and get out some napkins. Another sweep of the
kitchen and I spot the morning newspaper
Jax
was
reading so intently.

I
smooth the wrinkles and read the first page headline:

“
Congress to vote on time-travel bill
”

Senator Patricia James has put forth a
bill allowing select police officers to travel back in time to verify witness
testimony and hunt down dangerous suspects. Currently, the police need to
petition the courts for access using a time-consuming process. Critics argue
that frequent time travel will scramble the officers’ brains and interfere with
the due process afforded to individuals charged with crimes. The bill is set to
be voted on early next week.

Senator James was one of the founding
members of Rewind before being elected to public office four years ago. She has
made it her life’s mission to thwart dangerous crimes by providing safe time
travel for officers of the law.

Senator
Patricia James.

James.

Wasn’t
that Donovan’s last name?

I
jump when the front door slams. A chorus chimes out from the kids. “We’re
home!”

Their
nearly identical faces smile at me, and I come back with a grin of my own. “Hi,
kids!”

I
swoop down to give them big bear hugs, and I’m crushed under their embrace. I
can’t help but feel the warmth and love that bubbles from them to me. Their
faces are all chubby cheeks and glowing eyes, and they smile infectiously.
Mischief skips across my lips as I give them kisses.

“I
have a surprise for you guys. Follow me.”

I
take each of their hands in mine and lead them into the kitchen. As they see
the table, smiles break out.

“Yay!”

They
make a break for their chairs. The legs are grating against the floor before I
can even sit down. They each put a cookie on their small saucers. Molly slowly
and deliberately dunks hers into milk, while Mike shoves the entire thing into
his mouth.

I
sit with them and take a bite. “How was school?”

Molly
goes first. “Good. We read about dogs, and I worked on my subtraction tables.”

“Handwriting
is lame.” Mike shrugs. “We use computers most of the time anyway. Who cares if
I can sign my name?”

“Legal
documents. It’s nice to know.”

“I
guess.” Mike goes back to drinking his milk.

“Want
to watch a movie after? What’s your favorite?”

“
Tangled
!” Molly says and gives me a
smile revealing two front teeth. “No, no,
Brave
!”

“Oh,
not again. I'd rather watch
Iron Man
,”
Mike says.

My
eyes narrow, but I keep my tone playful. “Are you allowed to watch
Iron Man
?”

Molly
giggles and points at him, and he slouches further down. “No.”

“We
can find something the three of us like.”

Molly
giggles again, this time pointing at me.

“What’s
so funny? Do I have crumbs on my shirt?”

“No,
but duh.”

I
try not to laugh. “Duh?”

Molly
nods, but Mike is the one who speaks. “Movies, plates of cookies. You want
something.”

“Uh-huh!”
Molly says, but it doesn’t stop her from taking another cookie. “I like it when
you want something.”

“Okay,
okay.” I sigh, realizing my approach isn’t working. These kids are too smart
for their own good. “You’re right, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” As I
say the words, they ring true. I do love them even if I barely remember them.

“Maybe
we can help,” Mike says. “Like that time we helped you sneak out to see Donovan
after dark.”

My
lips twist to the side. “Okay, but it stays at the table, or I’ll tell Mom
about that time you threw your dinner down the garbage disposal.” I figure they
are young, this must have happened at least once.

From
the fear in Molly’s face, I have her pegged as the guilty party. Her eyes open
wide, and her mouth drops. “Okay, okay! We promise!”

“Good.”
I smile. “I wanted to talk about Mom for a few minutes.”

They
exchange nervous glances but stay silent.

“It
makes me sad she’s gone so long.”

Molly
nods. “Me too,” she whispers.

“But
we don’t want to make her feel bad,” Mike says quickly. “We hate when Mommy’s
sad.”

“Me
too,” I admit, and my nose scrunches into a ball. “Maybe we should surprise her
with a special present. Show her how much we love her.”

The
kids start bouncing up and down in their seats, and I know I have them. “I
could take you shopping tomorrow after school. Maybe swing by your school and
we can go together.”

Molly
giggles. “I love the mall! But Mom says I’m too young to hang out there by
myself.” She pouts with her bottom lip protruding out.

 
“Well, she’s right about that.” I play with a
cookie on the platter. “What does she like? What do you guys think would make a
great present?”

The
kids look at each other as if they are reading each other’s minds. “Mom likes
cats.”

“You
like cats,” Mike tells Molly. “She’s always out late. Maybe we should give her
a gift certificate to a restaurant.”

“Or
a spa,” Molly adds.

“No,
no.” I sigh, agitated, then snap my fingers. “That’s a bad idea. I mean a gift
from us, from our heart to hers, not a piece of plastic money. That’s what you
buy a teacher or your boss.”

Molly’s
lips curve down. “I thought it’s what you liked.” Her voice is hushed and
small. I watch her little face scrunch up, about to dissolve in a fit of tears.

“Oh,
Molly.” Crestfallen, I reach over and hug her, plopping her down on my lap. “I
do, normally. I want this gift to be extra special.” I stroke her hair back,
and her tears taper off. She snuffles back the last of her running nose.

“It’s
a gift. Isn’t that special?” Mike asks.

 
“Even more special than Christmas,” I say,
eyebrows dancing with exaggerated excitement.

Molly
looks up at me, eyes growing wide. She fidgets until she’s off my lap and
running from the kitchen. I throw confused eye darts at Mike.

He
shrugs. “Girls.”

Molly
runs back in and hands me a flyer. “I saw Mommy looking at this one morning
before work.”

I
smooth out the paper’s wrinkles and see a silver necklace. It has a heart
pendant with birthstones attached to the front. “This is great. We’ll go
tomorrow to the mall and then bring it to Mom’s work. You guys know where that
is?”

Molly
giggles and covers her mouth while Mike rolls his eyes at me. “We all know.”

“Sure
you do,” I tease. “But if you don’t tell me, how am I supposed to know if you
know?”

Mike
narrows his eyes and blurts out, “Rewind. See, I told you I know.”

“Mom
…” I feel the color drain from my face, and my stomach wretches.“…works for the
time travel agency?”

Mike
nods. “You really didn’t know?” Molly asks. “But we’ve been there,” she rushes
on. “We saw Mommy in her white lab coat, and she told us—”

“Not
to touch anything,” Mike says. “Her experiments and research are important, and
she doesn’t want anyone to mess them up.”

“But
she’s almost done!” Molly’s shoulders scrunch up to her ears with excitement.
“Then we can go on a vacation with water slides!”

“Yay!”
they both cry out, throwing their arms up in the air while I desperately try
not to puke.

Our
arrangement is forgotten as they run to the living room. I put the cookies
away, trying to piece together what this means before I join them. I find them
on the sofa, arguing over who gets control of the remote.

“Remember,”
I say, wiping my hands on my pants, “It’s a surprise. So don’t tell Mommy or
Daddy.”

“
Or
Daddy?” Molly asks, mouth falling
open. “But, how will you get us out of school?”

“I
have my ways.” I wiggle an eyebrow at them and plant a kiss on each of their
heads.

Mike
looks up at me, his blue eyes like
Jax’s
, staring
right through me. “Can we get McDonald’s at the mall?”

“Happy
meal!” Molly choruses.

I
love their little faces more than anything. The love tugs at me, and I wonder
how my life was ever complete without these little monkeys. “I’ll get you
anything you want as long as you don’t tell.”

They
promise, hands over their hearts, and I retreat to my room to do my homework.

And
to think.

****

My
homework is laid out in front of me. I try to concentrate on it, but I’ve read
the same page four times, and the end of my pencil has snapped off.

Mom
worked for Rewind. I scour my brain, trying to find a memory of that, but I
can’t. I can do little else than fret about what this means. Why is Mom always
working late? What project is she close to finishing? And how does this tie
into our past? Maybe tomorrow I can get some answers from Dad, but until then
my brain is going to whirl with wonderings and horrible
what if
scenarios.

At
this point, Rewind is my enemy. If they find out what I did, I'll be arrested.
Or worse, they will try to fix the mess I created. But maybe that’s what should
happen. Maybe, but I’m not ready to let Mom go. We haven’t spent any time
together yet. My mind floats back to six months ago, the first time I went back
in time to see Mom.

****

Dad
is buying me the time travel package as a present. I know how much it’s costing
him, but his face is glowing as we step inside the sterile agency. The walls
are pristine white and the furniture is unnatural silver, comfortable but stark
to the eye.

I
clutch the brochures while I study all the information laid out in them about
time travel sickness and what would happen if you try to affect the past, but
luckily such a thing isn’t possible, or so the brochures tell me.

Dad
sits on the sofa beside me and keeps crossing and uncrossing his legs and
rubbing his neck. I’m not sure what he’s nervous about. I’m the one attempting
time travel for the first time, and my stomach is a bubble of nerves.

A
lady approaches with severe red hair clipped back in a tight French twist that
makes her face look like a stretched marquee. We stand and she shakes Dad’s
hand. “Delilah, thanks for taking us so quickly,” Dad says.

She
smiles and squeezes my hand. “Make yourself at home, John. I’ll bring her back
when I’m done.”

I
look back over my shoulder and Dad grins, but he seems nervous as he walks over
to the magazines.

****

I
didn’t notice it then, but now it’s obvious to me that Delilah and Dad knew
each other prior to that first trip to the agency. They were never introduced.
They knew each other. But I was so excited about seeing Mom that I didn't even
think about that.

****

I
follow Delilah into a private room and try to relax in the overstuffed
recliner. She busies herself around the room before slipping a heart rate
monitor on my finger. She spins a few dials on a computer and speaks without
looking up.

“The
past can see you, even talk to you, but you’re like a hologram projection in
their minds. You aren’t able to touch them, take a bus, or even open a door.”
She gives me a sad, haunting smile. “I know why you want to see her, but you
won’t be able to touch her.”

I
nod. “Dad told me.”

“Good.”
Her smile is back, pushing up her cheeks and exposing her dimples. “If you
tried, you'd set off alarms, and we would pull you out. I’m not saying we’d
arrest a kid, but we can’t make exceptions.”

“I
get it.” I bite my lip as my nerves flitter around inside me.

She
places electrodes on my forehead. “Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.
You’ll be dizzy when you get there. Remember, all you have is fifteen minutes.”

Laying
my head back, I think of my mother. I can barely remember her face. If it
wasn’t for pictures, I would have no memory of her at all. Her voice was once
sweet, and her laughter pure, but now it’s almost as if I’m watching a silent
film in my head. All I want is to recapture that, and thanks to Dad, I can.

“Happy
birthday,” I whisper to myself, and the chair begins to spin. When I open my
eyes I’ll be with my mother again, like magic.