The Messenger: Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #1 (13 page)

I
raced
through the garrison and passed the church. I wondered if the Reverend was holed up there. I contemplated storming inside, and grabbing what was left of my necklace. Who had told him about it? Why? I had to find Samuel; I had to talk with him.

There was a small, tight crowd of people huddled together around the stocks and the hanging platform. I spotted Mistress Powter on the outskirts. She and her friends chatted to each other cheerfully, and pointed to the crowd’s center. She beckoned to me, friendly. “Join us, Abigail. Hurry! You have almost missed it.”

“Missed what?” I detoured from my path and with open arms they gathered and included me in their company.

“The punishment.” Mistress Powter pushed me forward to the front of their group, and I saw who was being punished.

Samuel was shirtless. His hands were tied high to the whipping pole, while a colonist cracked a whip across his bare back that was already raw in areas and welting in others.

“No!” I cried out.

“Yes,” Mistress Powter replied. “The Reverend Wilkins declared Samuel is guilty of lewd and unseemly behavior. Punishment is thirty lashes. And, to think you almost missed it.” She craned her neck to catch a better glimpse.

Samuel caught my eye. “Go,” he mouthed.

I teared up, and shook my head. “No!”

“Go.” Another blow tore into his back, and he grimaced.

Reverend Wilkins spotted me and smiled. “So glad you could join us.
Abigail.”

I pushed my way back through the small crowd, and ran toward Angeni’s hut, wiping tears away with every step. I no longer cared if what I was living and feeling was a dream, a past-life, or real. It was time to go home.

I would learn from Angeni. I would get dizzy, climb tall things, and venture onto cliffs. I had to go back to my life in Chicago in the future. There was no way I would allow Samuel to ever be hurt again, because of me.

I leaned my head against her hut’s coverings, listened, but heard nothing. “Angeni?” I whispered. There was no reply. I was bursting, and had to talk with somebody who would understand. Who would get it?

Tobias.

I walked the short distance to the garrison’s walls. Saw long, black hair resting on the tall, muscular, and clothed back of a guy seated next to a flaming fire pit.

Tobias swiveled and faced me. Almost if he knew I was coming. He skinned what appeared to be freshly killed rabbits with his knife.

“Do you know what they are doing?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Can’t you stop them?” I begged.

“No.”

“Why aren’t you there for him? He’s your best friend.”

“He did not want me there,” Tobias replied. “He did not want Angeni, or you there, either. He made me swear not to tell you in advance.”

“Why would they hurt him?”

“Because they can.” Tobias frowned. “Anyone can hurt anybody, and get away with it. Especially if they have cunning, skill, or power.”

He was right.

“But how do I fight that?” I asked. “I can’t live here knowing they are hurting Samuel, because of me.”

Tobias skewered the rabbits’ bodies with skinny, metal rods. “They have the power right now. Samuel and my kind do not. But power shifts with the winds. Ebbs and flows like the ocean waters. Today’s friend becomes tomorrow’s enemy. And history is written by the victors.”

He slapped the rabbit carcasses on the rudimentary grill over the fire. “Sometimes I think history needs to be re-written. What do you think?” he glared at me.

“I think this garrison isn’t my home,” I said. “I have to leave, before people I care about get hurt, or even worse—are punished because of me.”

“You never paid me back for the information I shared,” he said, and stirred a pot that rested on the grill.

Really? That mattered now? “Fine. Ask me anything.”

“What is your real name?” He pulled something from his pocket and sprinkled it into the pot.

I hesitated, but it was time. “Madeline Abigail Blackford.”

“What are you doing living in Abigail Endicott’s body and life?”

Great question. “I don’t know.”

“Where are you from?” he asked, took the pot off the stove and poured water from a flask into it.

“Chicago, Illinois.”

“What year?”

“Over three hundred years in the future.”

His face twitched.

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No,” he said. “I think you might be a Messenger.”

“What if I’m a Messenger who wants to go back to my time, and my people? Angeni says I can go back if I learn the Sa-Ta-Na-Ma chant, and confront my fears.”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to learn that old chant. There are other ways to travel.”

“You know? Show me.”

“You are not serious about leaving,” he said. “You are just being whimsical, and leading everyone on a selfish chase.”

“I want to go home.”

“I think you want to stay here a bit longer. You are making friends, learning lessons. Even conquering hearts.”

“I can’t let Samuel get hurt again. Please, please help me.”

“It tastes a little bitter,” he said, and held out a metallic cup filled with brown liquid. “Drink it down quickly.”

I looked at it. I really didn’t like ingesting things when I wasn’t sure about their contents. “What is it?”

He pulled the cup away, but I grabbed it back and gulped it down. Fine. Tobias was Samuel’s friend. He only wanted what was best for him. Everything would be just fine.

It was worse than bitter. It tasted vile. It was all I could do not to spit it out. “How do you know about traveling? Did Angeni teach you?”

“No.” He took the cup back from me and pulled the rabbit skewers from the fire. “My father knows about traveling,” he said. “Sometimes when he hunts, he runs into a traveler.”

“What’d ya mean?” I felt a little woozy and swayed. I sat down next to him.

“My father says traveling is filled with danger. Every time you travel becomes increasingly treacherous, as you meet more enemies the more trips you take.” He stood up.

Well hopefully, I’d travel right back to my, wait, where was I going? “Where’s Samuel? I need to say goodbye to Samuel before I leave.” I tried to push myself to standing, but my legs felt like Jello and I sat back down.

“Recovering from being punished. Because of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Too late for sorry,” he said. “You just stay here, relax, and enjoy your trip. If we’re lucky, you’ll be back with your real family in no time.”

I was so dizzy. The fire seemed to be growing bigger. Just like the fire that consumed the cabin the first day I woke up here. That’s when the skinned, crispy rabbits leapt off their skewers and hopped away.

Some jumped across the earth. Others disappeared into softball-sized holes in the ground that suddenly opened up around me with little gasps, like when you opened an airtight jar for the first time. My throat felt parched, and my stomach started cramping. “Don’t go,” I said.

He leaned into my face: all three, blurry versions of him. “You said you wanted to go back to your real life. I am helping you do that,” Tobias said. “Go on now, Madeline. Be brave. Real Messengers are usually brave.”

“But what ’bout Samuel?”

“I’ll tell Samuel you said goodbye.”

I
was alone
in front of a fire with its flames licking at my feet, when a huge, loud blast of scorching air exploded in front of my eyes, sucked me inside and thrust me into its deepest interior: freezing darkness. I twirled around like a rag doll in this vacuum that was penetrated by pinpricks of multi-colored lights and images that popped up all around me.

Green from the pine needles in the forest where we hunted for herbs. Pink like the Atlantic sunrise. Purple like the shells in my necklace. Hazel like Samuel’s eyes. Red like the welts on his back when he was whipped.

I heard snippets of conversations and saw people’s faces.
Bam
. Mama. She threw me a kiss. “Life goes fast, Madeline. Right now we need to be just like life.”
Poof
—she dissolved in pinpricks of light-like fireworks.

Bam.
Samuel. “I love you, Madeline,” he said as he gave me the necklace. It broke into pieces that morphed into fishhooks, snagged parts of his beautiful face, and pulled it apart in different directions.

Bam.
Tobias flew around me. “Give me something in return.” His face puffed out and morphed into a rattlesnake’s head. A rattlesnake that appeared ready to strike.

I screamed.

“Just like you promised,” Snake Tobias said, his tongue flitting in and out of his mouth while his body coiled. His snakehead and neck undulated, and then lunged like lightning toward me.

I threw myself backward, landed on my butt, and backpedaled as fast as I could away from him. I had no idea where I was. There was a dilapidated, rickety, wooden gate not too far ahead of me. I flipped over onto my stomach and crawled toward it as the snake—fangs bared—slithered toward me.

I reached it and shook it, hard. But it wouldn’t open. “Hello!” I hollered. “I need help. Someone help me, please.” Something slid across my foot, and I jumped. The snake wrapped itself around my ankle, and circled up my leg. I screamed again.

Help didn’t seem to be coming, so I flung myself at the gate, and crashed through it. And just like that, I was standing in the doorway that led to my family’s kitchen, in my real life.

Holy smokes.
I was back!

M
y seven-year
-old half sister Jane picked all the vegetables out of her omelet and methodically pushed them to the side of her plate.

“Eat your veggies, Jane,” Sophie said.

“No,” she said.

I brushed fire smudges and dirt from my face. Raked my fingers through my hair. And checked out my leg. No snake. Definitely no snake. I walked into our kitchen.

“Hey,” I said. Like, I’d never been gone. Like, life was normal.

“Vegetables will help you grow healthy and live a long life,” Sophie said.

“Don’t think so,” Jane replied.

“Eat half the green stuff, and we’ll call it a day.” Dad looked at his watch.

Squee! I was definitely home. I was back with my family. I never appreciated them until we were separated.

“I missed you guys like crazy,” I said. “I love you all so much. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. Where’s my omelet? Oh, you wouldn’t
believe
what I was dreaming.”

I looked around the table. There were place settings for three people. Not four. There were three chairs. One occupied by Dad, one by Sophie, and one by Jane. A fourth chair sat in the corner of the kitchen; a wilted plant plopped on it.

“I hate broccoli,” Jane said. “And, I won’t eat it.”

Dad and Sophie shared a look.

“Hey,” I said. “Jane’s always been a picky eater. She hates broccoli, carrots, and anything that could possibly be in a salad. Why does this surprise you?”

Sophie pushed back her chair, got up, and grabbed Jane’s plate. She took it to the kitchen sink, and rinsed it off. “You’re going to the babysitter’s.” She opened the dishwasher, stuck the plate in the rack, and closed it.

“Do I have to? I want to go see Madeline.”

“You already said goodbye to Madeline, sweetie. We talked about how Madeline might be going to live with her mama, today, in heaven.”

What?

“No!” Jane pushed back her chair, and stormed out of the kitchen.

Dad leaned his elbows on the table and collapsed his head into his hands.

“Hello!” I hollered, and jumped up and down in front of my dad. “I’m back. I’m here!”

He got up off his chair and walked through me.

I shuddered.

He wrapped his hands around Sophie’s waist. She had a small baby bump. “Taking Madeline off life support is the toughest decision we’ve ever made,” he whispered.

Take me off life support?

Dad wiped a tear from his eye. “I just don’t think she’s going to make it. After all she’s been through—she’s not the toughest kid in the world.”

“Maybe she will.” Sophie wiped away a few tears of her own. “I told my office no more trips, until a year after our baby’s born. They agreed. I keep full salary. I just don’t travel.”

“I love you.” Dad kissed Sophie gently. “I’m going to get a few of Maddie’s favorite things.” He left the room.

“Sophie!” I cried. “Don’t do this.” I stood directly in front of her, inches from her face. “Please. I’m here. Really, I am.” I waved my hands in front of her. Patted her cheeks with my hands.

Sophie leaned back against the kitchen sink and rubbed her stomach. Just like Elizabeth used to do. She closed her eyes, and tilted her face toward the heavens. “I miss you Madeline,” she said. “I miss your spirit and how funny you are. I miss everything you bring to this family. I wish I could say I’d be okay with you dying. But honestly—I’m not. So, when the doctors disconnect you today, I want you to fight. I want you to stay alive. Do you hear me? Fight, Madeline.”

The thing was? I’d never been much of a fighter.

I
blinked
, and the next thing I knew I lay in a field filled with wildflowers. I gazed up at the pretty blue sky spotted with a few white clouds that danced across it. I remember this field, because Mama and I had danced here before, spinning in circles and giggling like we shared the funniest joke.

A soft, mechanical, rhythmic noise that sounded like a complete breath—a long slow inhale and a low exhale—hummed in the background. That is—if a machine could breathe.

I stretched my arms over my head. Even though I was still in my colonial clothes, I felt happy, light, almost giddy. Then I saw the strangest thing: the dead colonists from the Endicott settlement were alive and healthy, walking past me, and going about their outdoor work. They carried buckets and shovels. Maybe they were gardening.

“Hello,” I said to the young colonial women whose neck had been caked in blood the first time I saw her. Her neck was now perfect: long, thin, and completely intact. “I remember you.”

She smiled at me shyly, and placed two buckets of dirt next to me. “It is very exciting, yes?”

“What’s exciting?” I asked.

The guy who had the hideous burns on his arm, walked past me healthy and unscathed. He carried a shovel and winked at me. “The news that you get to be with your soul mate, for an eternity,” he said.

“I get to be with Samuel, forever?” Feeling giddy morphed into feeling euphoric. I didn’t even care when the colonists from the Endicott settlement dug their shovels into the buckets of dirt and pitched soil onto my body.

Because I got to be with Samuel—forever.

The soft, rhythmic, machine-breathing sounds stopped.

And, I drifted. I was maybe fifty feet up in the air looking down at my very still, white face, my body wearing a colonial dress, covered in dirt. I could hear everything; see everything. The colonists seem satisfied, and walked off. Except for the girl.

She placed a few sprigs of lavender and sage on my chest, kissed my cheek, and whispered into my ear, “It is not over, yet. You can still fight. Only if you want. I did not get that chance.”

She left. I lay on that field filled with wildflowers. I smelled burnt sage, lavender, and freshly baked, chocolate chip cookies. It felt like it was time to finally be free. When something white, small, and feathery dove through the air past me toward the earth.

A small white bird fluttered next to my body.
What was this thing doing?
Didn’t matter. I was out of here. That’s when I felt a pinch on my leg. This stupid bird was pecking me.

It jabbed my thigh. Nipped my ankle. “You’d better flippin’ stop it!” I said, when suddenly I was sucked from the skies back into my body on the ground.

The bird hovered over me, dived, and pecked my arm. “Ouch!” I fought it off, my arms flailing. I think I nailed it as it stopped pestering me for a few seconds. Then, that dang bird dove in and pecked my ear.

“Madeline!” Samuel whispered. But his voice was so far away. I bolted upright, brushed the dirt off me, and looked around the meadow. It was beautiful. But something was wrong: I wasn’t breathing.

Stupid anxiety. I should probably breathe. I inhaled.
Ouch.
My lungs felt like they were glued together. I exhaled and took another breath. This time it felt like my lungs were ripping open.

I heard a woman’s voice chant, “Sa. Ta. Na. Ma. Sa. Ta. Na. Ma.”

The earth tipped underneath me, and I was falling.
My biggest fear
. I grabbed onto the flowers but they slid through my fingers. I clawed the earth, as the rest of my body seemed to be caught up in some kind of insane wind, blowing me like a speck of dust in a storm.

Angeni said, “Let go.”

The earth turned again. Now the land was over my head, and my legs dangled into a dark abyss. I hung on with all my strength as the winds buffeted me.

“I’m scared!”

“Let go.”

Really. What did I have to lose at this point?

I let go.

I dropped from the earth above me, fell through the winds that whirled around me, and catapulted past the colonial people watching me from the sidelines. The nice girl smiled and clapped her hands.

I heard Pachelbel’s Canon play as I fell through a rainbow of colors in a gorgeous, Atlantic sunrise, and saw the sandy beach coming up far too quickly. I was going to hit hard. Really hard. I squeezed my eyes shut.