Wealth of Time Series Boxset Page 20

  “C’mon, babe, let’s take it slow and get out of here. The nurse will be here any minute.”

  Her mind was set on trapping Martin in his lies.

  37

  Chapter 36

  The drive home was silent. A gentle rainfall had started, leaving the only sound as the drops hitting the windshield and the wipers screeching across to clear the view. Martin lay in the passenger seat, reclined, with a small stack of hospital papers on his stomach.

  Sonya didn’t speak, and Martin was fine with that. He needed to sort out his story and be able to cover his tracks; she would certainly have questions.

  There’s only one way out of this, he thought. You have to tell her the truth. There’s not a lie that can hide this anymore. No one has a clue what you were doing or why you were at the Klebold house. Just tell her.

  Martin toyed with the idea of spilling his deepest secret. Even a free thinker would need some convincing of time travel being true. This could go one of two drastic ways. She would either run for the hills and call the asylum on Martin, or take a leap of faith and believe him, being practically forced to join him on his adventure. No possible outcome existed where their life together could continue as normal. Have fun at work today, I’m gonna go stop the 9/11 attacks this morning. Be home for dinner.

  He accepted the ultimatum that awaited, and wanted to rip the bandage off and get it over with. Was now the right time to bring up the matter? She had also gone through a lot in the past week, an emotional roller coaster surrounded by the unknowing. Was today, the most joyous day of the last week, really the best time to spring such news on her?

  You can either tell her, or keep it a secret. Just know that if you wait long enough, she’ll be the one asking the questions. Don’t let her control where this conversation goes. This is all for Izzy – she’ll understand once you explain.

  Martin considered this. They may have not been dating long, but Martin knew Sonya well enough to anticipate the sea of questions floating behind her silent façade. She was curious about most things, and the topic of why he was in Littleton would surely be on the top of her list.

  He would tell her when they arrived home; he didn’t want her emotional while driving. Martin recognized the scenery outside of his window, knew they were back in Larkwood, but couldn’t remember where or what her house looked like. It was like a blank spot on his internal map of the city, a Bermuda triangle of sorts when he tried to imagine the house’s location. It terrified Martin that he couldn’t remember where they lived. He could picture the apartment building and Vinny, his old house where Izzy would one day go missing from, but not his current residence.

  Martin reached over the center panel and rubbed Sonya’s arm, her soft skin gliding beneath his fingertips. “I love you,” he said, prompting a flustered look of delight from the driver’s seat.

  She grinned at him, and he could see the pain and fear hiding behind her eyes. “I love you, too.” She grabbed his hand and raised it to her lips for a quick kiss.

  “How far are we?”

  Her grin turned into a flat line. “We’re about three minutes away. Do you not remember your hometown at all?”

  “No, I do. It’s just your house I can’t remember. I remember my old apartment, the liquor store, our favorite restaurants. I just can’t picture where the house is.”

  Sonya nodded, but remained quiet. She probably had no idea what to say to him. The doctor had spoken with Martin in private, letting him know that those close to him might appear to struggle with his recovery more than himself. The forgetfulness could wear down those who loved him. They could grow sick of having to repeat themselves and explain things a dozen times. But Martin believed Sonya to be a good-hearted person, even in the darkest times.

  The car turned into a neighborhood and pulled into a driveway. Everything felt familiar, but Martin still couldn’t piece it all together in his mind. It felt as if someone had dumped a 5,000 piece puzzle on the floor and left him no picture for guidance.

  You’re on your own. Sonya will try to help, but she’s not lost in your head with you. She can’t truly help without knowing what’s going on. It’s like calling for directions, but you don’t where you are to begin with.

  “Home sweet home,” Sonya said, killing the engine. “Can I make you a soup?”

  “That sounds delicious. The hospital food was nothing to write home about. And I only had one meal the whole time.”

  “Sounds lovely. Go lie down on the couch and I’ll get something together. It’s a perfect day to cuddle up and watch movies. How does that sound?”

  “As long as you’re there, it sounds heavenly.”

  Martin loved her, and should have known better than to get involved romantically with anyone while traveling to the past. Romance has a way of complicating even the simplest of plans. It didn’t matter if she was sent to him as a gift from the past. The past would have to try a lot harder to keep him from his daughter come September.

  Martin still hadn’t regained his natural sense of time and checked the dashboard clock to find it was twenty minutes until five. The day had passed in a blur once Sonya arrived at the hospital, and he hadn’t noticed, entranced by the chance to spend a day with her.

  “Where’s my car?” Martin asked. “Was it destroyed?”

  Sonya nodded her head. “Your car was practically flattened. They found pieces of it 200 yards away from the accident.”

  She spoke in a wavering voice before collapsing into a new round of tears and heavy, painful sobs. “It’s a miracle you’re still alive. You should be dead.”

  Sonya threw herself across the center console and into Martin’s arms that opened naturally for her. The sweet smell of her hair wasn’t present as usual, and he figured that she had skipped a few showers while he lay in the hospital, his mind drifting to another dimension.

  “I’m here.”

  “I love you,” she said, giving him a half-hearted squeeze thanks to her awkward angle. “Can we please go inside?”

  “Yes,” Martin said, and he felt this was as good a transition as any. “Let’s go sit down on the couch and talk. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Sonya recoiled and sat up stiffly in the driver’s seat. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we need to have a talk.”

  “Those words are never good.” She stared at him sternly, daring him to tell her bad news after the week she had just endured.

  “It’s not what you think. But it is about us and our future. Let’s just go inside.”

  Sonya wasted no more time bickering in the car and swung her door open. Martin followed suit, only a bit slower. Sonya was already opening the house door when Martin closed the car door and shuffled around to meet her. He watched as she moved with a hell-bent purpose into the house, throwing her purse and keys on the table and nearly running to the living room. She reminded Martin of a kid being told it was finally time to open the presents at their birthday party, only he didn’t sense the same kind of excitement.

  Martin walked at his new, slow pace. Although it was temporary, it still frustrated him that his legs couldn’t keep up with how fast his mind wanted them to move. And to think it wasn’t even a direct result of the coma, but rather from lying in bed for an entire week.

  He joined Sonya on the couch, her legs bouncing uncontrollably as she had her hands crossed in front of her face as if in prayer. Her eyes stared to the ground and ignored him when he sat down beside her.

  She jumped up from the couch and paced around the coffee table. “I’m not letting you do this,” she said, an obvious hint of anger hiding behind her words.

  “Let me do what?”

  “Spill your guts and confess. No, sir. You must have hit your head pretty hard if you think I’m gonna let you sit there and be all saintly for making your confession before I caught you.”

  “Confession?” Martin said, more to himself. “Sonya, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

 
“Good, then let me explain for you.” The boiling rage could no longer hide and was in full force with every motion she made. “I know everything. I know your lies, your secret life. Everything.”

  Martin’s crippled mind raced in hundreds of directions, unable to make any sense of her words. The only way she could know that he had travelled through time would be if she had also travelled in time and knew what to look for. He examined her skin for the golden glow, but did not see anything.

  “Tell me what you know, because you’ve lost me,” Martin said calmly, hoping the composure would rub off on Sonya.

  “Sure, Martin, if that’s your real name,” she said, sarcasm clinging to every word. “Let’s see. For starters, I know you don’t work at the post office. I called them to let them know about your accident. They said they’ve never heard of you, had no record of your employment. That’s lie number one. I know you’re married. How’s Lela doing? That’s lie number two. And I know that you and Lela have a daughter named Izzy. Because she goes to my school! What a shame that a sweet girl like that is stuck with a lying piece of shit father like you.”

  Martin sat stunned, eyes bulging at Sonya in a way that probably made him look guilty. He supposed if he hadn’t just come out of a coma, she would likely be throwing things at him as she ranted.

  Well, here it is, he thought. This is the past pushing back. This is the past using Sonya to throw you off. You better explain yourself quickly before this woman goes in the kitchen for a knife to stab your fat, useless gut.

  Martin could sense the anger seeping from Sonya’s pores, but remained calm himself as he knew she had it all mistaken.

  “Are you going to say anything, liar?” she snarled. “Or can liars not speak when they’ve been caught?”

  Martin shook his head and hoped for the best.

  “I can actually explain all of this. But, I need you to sit down and really listen. This isn’t at all what you think.”

  “Save it, Martin. What were you doing in Littleton? Fucking your rich housewife? Does she give you money when you’re a good boy?”

  The question caused a giggle to form in Martin’s throat that he choked down.

  “Sonya,” he said, keeping a high level of composure. “I can explain.”

  She crossed her arms and cocked her head like a pissed off teenager. “Well, then start talking.”

  Martin patted the open space on the couch next to him, but Sonya didn’t flinch and kept staring at him with hateful eyes.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “This is all going to sound crazy. Because it is. But it’s all true, I need you to trust me, and you can ask me for any proof that you need.”

  He paused to stand with Sonya, not wanting to talk up to her the whole time.

  “I’m not from here. I suppose that’s the best way to put it. I’m from Larkwood, but I came here from the year 2018.”

  Martin paused again to read Sonya’s expression that remained hot, but he could see the dials turning behind those hateful eyes.

  “You’re absolutely right about Lela and Izzy. In 1996, they are my wife and daughter. In September Izzy will go missing and never be found again. That’s why I’m here: to stop that from happening. Her disappearance led to the collapse of my marriage. If you go to my family’s house right now, you’ll probably see me, Lela, and Izzy all there together. And I’ll still be here. It’s been made clear that I can’t interact with my past self.”

  Martin noticed Sonya’s arms loosen, but remained crossed.

  “I’ve been here since March, tracking Izzy, and finding ways to kill time until the big day in September. I didn’t plan to meet someone and fall in love. But, here we are. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about our relationship. I don’t know what will happen when I go back. You could even come with me, I suppose, if you wanted.”

  Martin paused once more and let his words settle. Sonya’s face morphed from anger to confusion as she scrunched her eyebrows.

  “Martin, I think we need to get you back to the doctor. I think you hallucinated during your coma.” She spoke with the slightest hint of fear in her voice.

  “I wish I could take you to the future for a quick look to see for yourself, but that’s not how it works.”

  “Well, I can’t exactly ask you questions about the future, either – how would I ever know if you’re telling the truth?”

  Martin noticed her hands shaking, still likely flowing with the adrenaline of her outburst moments ago, but her voice had almost returned to normal, and that put him at ease.

  She wants to believe me.

  “Okay. I do have some minor things you could use as proof. I have a notebook of sporting outcomes that I use to bet and make money while I’m here. I can show you the outcomes, down to the exact score, and you can see for yourself.”

  “So you really don’t work for the post office?”

  “Well, I do in 2018. That’s why I used it as a cover-up. It’s easy for me to explain because I actually do work in a post office.”

  Sonya finally uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her sides. “I don’t believe this. Time travel isn’t real, and you know it.”

  Martin reached his arms out for her, expecting her to avoid them, but she didn’t resist and let him squeeze her as if never wanting to be let go.

  “I know this sounds impossible. I thought so, too. Sometimes I still wonder if this man in 2018 just drugged me and I’m on a hell of a trip. But it’s been too long. No days have been skipped, and everything I know will happen has happened.”

  Sonya was silent, her heavy breathing the only sound filling the quiet house. She gently pushed her way out of his embrace and took a step back. “I think I need some time by myself to process this. I’m not asking you to leave or anything. I want to believe you, but I can’t right now. It’s too absurd to even consider. I want to see the proof you have, but part of me doesn’t really want to − that would make it real.”

  “I understand. I damn near drank myself to death when I found out this was real. It’s a lot to process, and only gets stranger the more you learn. So, what do you want me to do?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You need to rest and relax like the doctor said. I’m gonna go out, try to clear my mind if that’s even possible at this point. I’ll bring you some dinner later – just try to get better.”

  Martin wondered if she still thought this was a result of his head injury. It made sense for her to think that; he had never shown any signs of such chaotic thoughts before the accident, so it was a convenient enough of an excuse to use if she wanted to stay in denial.

  “Okay, take your time. Don’t be too late – I’d love to explain everything I know and answer any questions you have.”

  Martin stayed calm, wanting to show Sonya that he was perfectly fine and not delirious like she assumed.

  Sonya nodded and turned for the kitchen where she swiped her keys off the table. She opened the front door, looked back at Martin with terrified eyes, and closed it behind her on the way out.

  Martin returned to his spot on the couch, hearing the car outside turn on seconds later.

  She’ll come around, don’t worry. Just give her some time.

  Martin lay down, intent of falling asleep for a quick snooze, but knowing his racing thoughts would never allow it.

  38

  Chapter 37

  Martin fell into a light sleep after all. He could only stare at the ceiling for so long before the fatigue kicked in. He slept for an hour and a half before Sonya’s car pulled into the driveway. He sat up on the couch, neck sore from sleeping awkwardly. The clock read 7:38 P.M.

  His stomach growled when Sonya swung the front door open, a bag of Taco Bell in hand, the smell of questionable ground beef slowly filling the house.

  “Hey,” she said flatly. “I brought us dinner.”

  “Thank you. How was it? Where did you go?”

  She looked down and drew circles in the carpet with her toe. “I went to a park. There’s o
ne just outside of downtown that overlooks a lake and the mountains. It’s somewhere I’ve always gone when I needed to sort things out.”

  Martin stood, expecting her to say more, but she didn’t.

  “What did you decide?”

  She looked back down to her imaginary artwork and spoke just above a whisper. “I think I believe you.”

  Knowing he wasn’t getting kicked to the asylum, Martin crossed the living room to her. He grabbed the bag of food, placed it on the counter, and grabbed her hands, one in each of his. Her head stayed down, but he could hear a soft sniffle.

  “Sonya,” he said. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  She raised her head and had tears welled up in her eyes, bringing out her true hazel color, glistening majestically. He felt her staring into his soul and could feel her trying to enter it, as if she could lunge into his being.

  “I love you, Martin. And I believe you.”

  He raised his thumbs gently to her face and wiped the tears out of her eyes.

  “Thank you. I love you, too. More than I’ve ever loved any other woman.”

  “Before I went to the park, I went to your house. Well, your old house, I guess.” Sonya spoke with uncertainty.

  Martin felt an immediate pit fall through his stomach. If she went to his old house and interacted with his past self, she may have thrown a wrench into everything. If his past self met her, how would that affect him going forward? Martin still had a novel’s worth of questions he wanted to ask Chris, but knew the old man was long gone.

  “I only drove by, but I saw you mowing the lawn. It was clearly you, but younger. I wanted to stop and say something, but something inside me told me I shouldn’t.”

  “That’s good. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you did.”

  “After I saw you, I felt like I had been knocked in the head. I felt dizzy and sick. It was like I was back in college and learned that the Vietnam War was a big hoax. It was just a sick feeling to learn something that you’d never guess in 100 years to be true.”