Summer of Love, 2009.
As Stalker and I fell in love, each conversation was a revelation. We both grew up in crowded Bronx households, in families that instilled religion (and guilt) within us. We had gone to the same high school, had friends in common. We loved so much of the same music. We both watched movies as much as possible, and dreamed of dancing like Astaire and Rogers. We both loved to talk, to write, to sing and to get in front of a microphone. We both sought novelty and excitement, to entertain and be entertained.
And we both were fascinated with time travel.
My keen interest started with A Wrinkle in Time in fifth grade. I closed the book after the last page, sad it was over. I closed my eyes; I was in awe, felt transported. That is the best book I have ever read, I thought. And by then I had read most of the wall of children’s fiction at the Sedgwick Library. The Sue Barton series, the Mary Poppins series, the Pam and Penny books. Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women series (yes, Little Women had sequels, as did Mary Poppins). Helen Keller’s biography. Helen Keller’s autobiography. I had read them all.
But Wrinkle in Time, that was my favorite. A couple of years later, I lived for TV broadcasts of the The Time Tunnel. Later, Back to the Future movies and television’s Quantum Leap. Time travel! Time confusion? Foreseeing the future? Determining the future? Do overs? I loved it all!
And so did Stalker. Quantum Leap was his favorite. And the Twilight Zone.
He wanted to reach back into time. Desperately.
* * *
“I saw the gun and I yelled, NO! I leaped up, I reached to grab it, but I didn’t have time. Where did that thing come from? Deborah pulled the trigger on the Magnum and it flew into the air. In slow motion, I saw the gun fly; I was in mid-air, my hand was still stretched out, reaching for it. NO! But she had pulled the trigger. WHAM! It was done.
“If I can just go back. I just need a few more seconds to get that gun out of her hand. WHAM! It was flying.
“The chamber had only the single bullet. She knew what she was doing.”
Only one bullet?
“She knew I would turn it on myself if the chamber had another.
“I need to go back. I just need another minute, to grab that gun. I would give anything to grab that gun.
“I didn’t save her then. But I will have another chance. I made a vow.”
My heart ached for him. Could my love save him now?
. . . to be continued