Timing, page 27
What? School was cancelled? She immediately thought of Alexander. "Gosh, is it really that serious?"
She found the remote and turned on the TV, putting it on mute. Every station was covering it. She tuned into Paul's station where he was broadcasting live from New York City.
"I'm afraid so, Hannah. Just since yesterday, somewhere near a quarter of a million people died. But don't worry. Just make sure you stay home, and don't be around anyone that's been in big cities. That seems to be where it's the most severe."
"I see Pauly is covering it," Hannah said snidely.
"Yes, Paul," she corrected, "is covering it. You can probably see him on the news."
"Yeah, I'm watching him right now."
"He's been awfully busy. We all have."
After promising her mother she'd be careful, and reassuring her that she would be fine without her—when wasn't she?—they said good-bye.
Instead of texting Boone, Hannah went ahead and called him.
But there was no answer. She called again and again—about a dozen more times with no success. She finally left him a voicemail and, over the course of the next little while, she sent him a handful of texts. Yet even after another hour or so, he still hadn't responded.
She tried the same thing with Alexander and ended up with the same results.
It was like everyone had suddenly disappeared from the planet.
She next thought of Eliza. They still hadn't spoken since the dance.
Eliza had tried to apologize, but Hannah hadn't given her the time of day.
Maybe she should forgive her and move on. Now that they were in the middle of an emergency, maybe the time for holding grudges had passed.
She quickly punched in Eliza's number.
It rang four times before Eliza answered.
"Hey, it's you. I thought you weren't talking to me."
"I changed my mind," Hannah said.
"Well, if you hadn't, I wouldn't blame you. It was stupid and mean of me to say those things. I'm really sorry. I hope you can please forgive me."
"Of course I will, Liza." She paused. "You didn't really mean what you said, did you?"
"Hannah… really, I was just being an idiot and, if you want the honest truth, probably all of us were a bit jealous of you."
"Jealous… of me? Why in the world would you be jealous?"
"You have everything going for you."
"Yeah, well that's easy for you to say. Lately, my life has been a disaster. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."
"I know, Hannah. I see that now. I hope you can forgive me."
"I do," she paused. "Let's just forget about it." Hannah twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Did you hear about this epidemic?"
"Yeah, it's a heck of a way to get out of school, huh?" Her voice was somber.
"My mom said it's pretty serious."
"I know. My dad has cancelled all of his church services until further notice. He's been so busy conducting funerals anyway I don't think he'd have time to prepare a sermon even if he wanted to. Did you know Mr. and Mrs. Green died?"
"Lukas's mom and dad?"
"Yes."
"No way." Hannah was almost too stunned to even respond.
"I heard Lukas is also sick, but they think he might be okay."
"That's horrible."
"And Dr. Radcliff died. I guess he contracted it while he was treating others."
"What?" Hannah felt like she'd been stabbed in the stomach. "Oh my gosh. Eliza, what about Alexander? Do you know about him? Have you heard anything?"
"No, Hannah, I'm sorry. I haven't heard anything about him. But I'll call you or text you if I do hear anything."
Hannah was silent.
"Hey, are you still there?"
"Yeah, I think I'd better go, Liza."
"Okay, you be careful, and call me if you hear anything."
"I will," Hannah said numbly, letting the phone drop slowly from her ear. She hadn't even bothered to push end.
She sat glued to the television. Geez, this was really intense. Already, in the short time she'd been gone, a ton of people had died. Officials were racing to trace the origins of the virus, and trying to see if they could counter it with a vaccine but, so far, they'd had no success. Maybe the oddest thing about the bug, according to Paul, was it seemed to be targeting people in their prime. It wasn't really affecting children and the elderly who typically bore the brunt of such epidemics. He said officials were beginning to liken it to the Spanish Influenza of 1918-1919.
Things looked bad. Really bad.
Hannah considered Timing back to her dad and letting him in on what was happening. But after toying with the idea for a few minutes, she decided against it. Maybe he had his own ways of finding things out and already knew. Besides, she'd rather wait a few days, and then go and see him again. And it was probably best not to visit him so soon after just returning. It might be unsafe and could put them both at risk.
Finally depressed with all of the stories of sickness and death, Hannah moseyed on down to the kitchen to see what Marie was up to.
A note was taped onto the fridge. "Hannah—stew in the fridge. Rolls, butter on counter. Gone for evening. Love you -M."
She was all at once fidgety. And something made her not want to be alone.
Why was everyone suddenly unavailable?
She checked her phone. No calls, no messages. She once again dialed the numbers of Alexander and Boone. Nothing.
She contemplated practicing her Timing but then thought better of it considering the advice her mother had given her about staying put.
Then she thought of her puppy. That would make her feel better.
After a quick trip to the barn, she headed back upstairs with Stormy in her arms.
Once in her room, Hannah put a baby diaper on her.
She'd learned the hard way from Sadie. After running a poop scoop and pee mop-up operation for what had begun to feel like a fulltime job, Eliza's dad had suggested she try diapers. One of his parishioners happened to have a newborn baby and a puppy at the same time, and in a last-ditch effort before finding a new home for the pup, the overwhelmed couple had tried the diapers on the puppy. Much to their surprise, it had worked. Brilliantly, in fact.
It really was a riot to see Stormy waddle around in the diaper. Her docked tail fit perfectly inside of it and, although she did have a concerned look on her face, it didn't slow her down too much as she explored all around Hannah's bedroom.
The little pup had grown even since Hannah had last seen her. They played for a while on the floor, and she even got the pup started on learning how to fetch. The little dog was a miniature version of Sadie. Hannah loved her already.
Still though, she kind of felt like she needed to get out of the house.
Hannah's face crinkled up like a wavy potato chip.
And then the idea came to her.
Perfect, she thought, surfing her hand across the top of Sadie's head.
Something to satisfy her restlessness.
CHAPTER 37—ESCAPE
The road was snow-covered, and the evergreens on either side of it wore tiered layers of whipped cream. With the heater on full blast and Stormy beside her, Hannah floored her Bronco to reach the turnoff.
After working on the ranch one summer—the same summer she'd taken Driver's Ed—she earned enough money to buy the vehicle from her father. It had a few bumps and bruises, and some rust here and there, but Hannah didn't care. "It's already broken in for you," he'd said grinning, as he handed over the keys to her, "just like a good horse."
She smiled at the memory and sang along to her music—definitely not the Russian's stuff—all the way until she reached the Trail Creek turnoff.
She wanted time to clear her mind. Process everything. Think about the changes she'd experienced in the past little while.
She was good with directions and figured she had a good chance of finding it, even through the snow. And besides, the outing would give her an opportunity to introduce Stormy to some basic commands.
Not once did Hannah notice the motorcycle trailing her.
She parked her vehicle and sighed. It felt good to be out of the house and doing something active. She opened her palm and told the puppy to stay as she got out. Stormy obeyed, the whole time watching her owner's every move as she sat on her haunches in the passenger seat. Once Hannah's sunglasses were on and her backpack was secured, she leaned across the armrest and scooped the dog up into her arms.
She hiked briskly, ducking and weaving her way through the trees and brush, her moonboots skirting through some five or six inches of powdered snow, shallow enough to be manageable, yet deep enough to break a sweat. At one point, bright sunshine broke through the canopy of green above her, kissing everything with a warm, carefree glow which spoke of holiday cheer.
Just being outside and drinking in the fresh air invigorated her, each step forward bringing her closer to feeling as though she'd left every trouble behind.
This was exactly what she'd needed.
After some time had passed, she wrapped her coat around her waist and hooked a leash onto Stormy's collar.
"Time to work, girl," Hannah told her.
While they covered the remaining distance, Hannah started training the pup, teaching her various commands on the leash using animal crackers for rewards. The little dog worked hard and was eager to please, and by the end of their mini training session, Stormy was reminding her of Sadie even more.
Smart. Sassy. And full of life and energy.
Finally, Hannah heard the murmur of water. A spring of anticipation welled up within her… she couldn't wait to see it again.
"Enough for one day," she told Stormy, praising her as she unhooked the leash.
The dog immediately sensed her newfound freedom and dashed well ahead of her owner, wildly zigzagging this way and that like a caffeinated gnat.
Hannah laughed.
And then just as suddenly, the puppy sprinted back in Hannah's direction and skidded to a stop within a few yards of her and raised her tiny bottom in the air as a sail in the wind, while keeping her front quarters low to the ground.
"You're funny," Hannah said.
Stormy barked.
The puppy was clever and entertaining, not to mention completely adorable.
Stormy barked several more times and then bolted around Hannah in a wide circle, skimming her mouth along the snow before making tracks for the water just ahead.
She thought of Boone and how thoughtful it had been for him to give her the puppy, and right as she thought of him, a warm and tingly sensation spread all over her, almost like she'd submerged herself into a bath of warm water.
But she didn't really have time to process the feeling because only moments later, they reached the waterfall. She came to a complete standstill and soaked it all in.
If Driftwood Falls had been beautiful in the summer, it was majestic amidst the setting of winter.
Jack Frost had been busy, but his masterpiece was still a work in progress.
The ice was a smoky pearl color, and the water a shade of muted wintergreen. Some liquid poured over the top of the waterfall but the volume of water had dropped considerably since she'd seen it last, hampered by the freezing December temperatures and clogged by miniature icebergs clustered along the spillway's edges. Below the waterfall, on the shallow outskirts of the lower basin, a rim of glassy ice had formed into the rough shape of a "C," and behind it, on a rocky backdrop, shards of ice crystals dangled expectantly, stretched like taffy to fine-tipped points, frozen in salute to winter's arrival.
Summer's urgency had given way to winter's serenity.
The scene reminded Hannah of the Christmas hymn Silent Night.
Soon, the waterfall would be completely frozen. Colorado had yet to experience what most considered a big winter storm. It was only a matter of time before the deep freeze would hit.
Maybe she'd talk Boone into coming back here with her. They could snowshoe in—possibly after Christmas or the New Year.
Hannah drew in a deep breath and let it out. Being here was peaceful, tranquil… and it gave her time to think. When it all came down to it, that was really why she'd come. She needed to digest everything that had happened to her and attach some kind of meaning to it, and, if possible, give it purpose and direction.
She'd been on a roller coaster ride of emotions since her father's death. And now, she'd disembarked from that ride only to find herself on a runaway train.
Nothing was as she'd expected. And certainly nothing could have prepared her for everything her life now encompassed.
Just knowing she could see her dad again was nothing short of a miracle.
For her, Timing had breached the finality of death and opened up a whole new spectrum of possibilities. But there had to be more to it. She wondered how and when she would begin to use her new skills. Her dad had admitted to holding things back from her, and she was all at once curious about what exactly he'd withheld from her and what his purpose was for keeping her in the dark. It felt like she'd traveled to a brand new world but was being held prisoner in a tiny portion of it. Perhaps it would be up to her to discover the nuances of Timing.
She threw a tiny tennis ball for Stormy. The puppy dove head-first into the snow, came up with it clenched between her jaws, and then started a victory dance near Hannah, prancing about with her back perfectly straight and her head held high, strutting with the air of a Tennessee Walking Horse.
"You're a stinker," Hannah smiled. "Yes, you are. Come, Stormy. Bring it here."
The dog cocked her head to one side as if saying, "No way." She had no intention of sharing. She wanted to play with it. She tossed it and then reclaimed it from the snow. Stormy wanted to play Keep Away instead of Fetch.
Hannah's lips curled up at the corners. They'd have to work on that.
She finally threw down a tarp and a blanket, and lay down not far from the water's edge, using her backpack as a makeshift pillow. Her eyes rolled over the crisp patch of blue above her, a radiant, bottomless sapphire unique to this time of year.
She felt a lick on her neck, and she glanced sideways. Stormy was at her side.
"Well, hi there, girl," she said, gently cradling her into the alcove of her elbow. The puppy looked at her and circled twice around in the space, before nuzzling against Hannah's mitten and plopping down into the shape of a cinnamon roll.
"Sleep good, sweet little baby," Hannah soothed, raking her hand along the puppy's coat. "You don't have a worry in the world," she added quietly, almost envious of the creature's contented ease into slumber.
In spite of the peaceful surroundings, Hannah's efforts to completely relax were futile.
She had too much on her mind.
Thoughts swirled, memories surfaced and daydreams began.
Timing. It felt unreal. She could actually travel through time.
Hannah Bailey can time travel, she said, as if saying it out loud would make it more real.
A big part of her still couldn't believe it. The experience felt like it had been part of some dream or fantasy which she'd fabricated out of the farthest recesses of her imagination.
But deep down, she knew better.
Seeing her father and having him explain to her certain elements of Timing rooted it in a sort of realism which she couldn't easily dismiss.
Plus, she had the locket.
She unhooked it and looked at the picture inside. The woman was young—probably not much older than she was. But who was she? She hadn't gotten the chance to ask her dad.
Somehow, the woman felt familiar, as if Hannah had known her or seen her before.
There were so many other things she'd planned on asking him, things she'd wanted to know and wanted to understand, but time had run short.
She put the necklace back on and tucked the locket beneath her sweater next to her collarbone. Soon, she would see him again. She promised herself that much at the very least.
Hannah sat up. The puppy groaned at the movement, briefly lifting her eyelids before letting them fall back down.
For goodness sake, she could go to London right now if she wanted. Or Paris. She'd always wanted to travel. For some time now, she'd longed to be on her own so she could do all of the things she'd always dreamed of. Now, she wouldn't have to wait.
Maybe she should try it, she thought suddenly. Go somewhere, just for fun.
But her father had warned her not to Time on a whim. And besides, what would she do with Stormy?
She lay back down and interlaced her hands behind her head. That wouldn't be fair to her, poor thing.
For that matter, she could go to Russia and visit Alexander in Kiev after he went back home. She was sure he wouldn't mind. She wondered what his family was like and was curious to know if he had brothers, sisters, grandparents.
After all this time, she still knew very little about him. Except for the fact that she was crazily attracted to him. She suddenly found herself wanting to know more about him. Everything, really. He intrigued her like no one ever had.
The nagging voice surfaced in her head, as if it were Lazarus rising from the dead. Every so often it came back, and it was usually when she was least expecting it. She supposed it was just her conscience, her guardian angel protecting her from some sort of looming disaster.
You don't always get what you want.
Hannah knew that was true. The death of her father had proved that. But now, after everything she'd been through, what did she really want?
She wanted, with all of her heart, to have her father back. Now she did.
She wanted to escape her life in Durango. Now she could.
She wanted to keep the ranch. Maybe that, too, was now possible. Maybe she could talk to her dad and get some ideas on how to persuade her mother into changing her mind. Or… who knew? Maybe she would be powerful enough to stop her mom from selling it.
And then slowly creeping into her mind was the granddaddy of all predicaments facing her, the choice she'd largely avoided until now.
She'd steered clear from posing this question, in particular, to herself, mostly because she didn't ever seem to have the answer.
