Chapter 10

 

To pass the time, and take my mind away from where it shouldn't go, I told Waneeta the story of the Wendigo. She was fascinated and I enjoyed telling it to her.

After the story, she flirted with me unlike any other woman had. I must admit to enjoying it, however inappropriate it was.

This tantalizing banter should have warned me, but again I reiterate. She fascinated me. As I helped her to get comfortable on my bunk, because she was still hurt, she quite unexpectedly kissed me. I was shocked! It was a difficult night, I think, for both of us.

Yes, we spent two nights together, although I confess to impure thoughts about her, I must say I was more of a gentlemen than I've ever been. Or imagined I could be.

Waneeta and I remained inside the whole day, as it was quite stormy out. She'd forecast the bad weather, saying she went to the 'Weather Channel'. I'm unfamiliar with this waterway and its prophetic abilities, but she was correct. Waneeta is most unusual. She asked me if my furniture were replicas. She likes to watch ice hockey, and was again surprised that I'd support the team for which I'm playing! She's even traveled to Toronto just to watch a game.

Sometimes I found if hard to follow her strange language, terms like Teevee and hydro. I was intrigued. Teevee must be a corruption of a Indian term, and hydro, which would infer water, is odd, it’s almost as if she was indicating electricity, the way she spoke. But science isn't my strength. When I return in the summer to Kingston, I shall ask my professors.

 It was later that morning that I discovered she is a working woman. This disproves my theory of her being a lady of the local gentry. She actually works in a sports equipment store! Whatever do the patrons think?

Just when she'd convinced me of her practical nature, Waneeta became entranced by my quoting Wordsworth to her. I had to. In the morning light, her hair had highlights the color of daffodils. Again I must confess to being enthralled. I caught her up in a rather lively polka, but was forced to stop, as she could not follow the music in my head. Then I kissed her. I shouldn't have taken such a liberty, and immediately apologized. What kind of boar did she think me? She swooned in my arms, and I had to help her to a chair. It was most unfortunate, and I feel even now that I should make amends. But as you'll soon read, how can I?

That night, I told her a story of the Madawaska River. I could feel the tension my kiss had caused. I wanted nothing but her. I believe the feeling was mutual. Once more, it was a long, difficult night.

To end this, I must keep writing, while my mind is fresh and can sort out the unusual events. How could I begin explaining the bizarre twist my adventure took today? Being a practical man, I've never believed in ghosts, but today, I may change my thinking. Waneeta wanted to show me her ‘skidoo’. Since the storm has passed, we went outside.

Other things were also on my mind. It was wrong to let Waneeta go without offering to assuage the situation her visit created. She spent two nights alone with an unmarried man. She’ll be ridiculed, and I'm concerned for her reputation. I am more than concerned! I'm in love with her, and acted on that! I proposed to her, and was surprised when she shied away from the idea. I know she is not married, so I have no idea why she acted as she did. I suppose my austere lifestyle here was a shock to her. I would have returned to Kingston for her and foregone my father's dream of educating the Indian children if she'd wanted me to. I've been offered a teaching position there, and for her, I would gladly leave this shanty. Indeed, should I decide to stay here, I'll have to move closer to the river where the children will be able to travel along to school. And I may not want that. I don't know yet. That's why I am here.

In all fairness to Waneeta, I gave no indication of my feelings for her before that time, so I shouldn't be surprised by her answer. We did, however, compromise. In fact, she insisted on meeting me here in May. With that much, I was forced to be satisfied. But my thoughts are moving too quickly for my pen, and I need to get back on track.

When we entered the woods, my mind went to her 'skidoo' and her missing cousin. I wasn't as interested in her cousin as I should have been, hoping we could return that evening to my cabin, having not found the man.

But now my story takes an odd twist. We traveled for about a quarter of a mile until we reached her machine. It was an ugly conveyance of rusting white iron sitting on a black tread with two skis out front, one obviously damaged. She asked me to help her turn it around. Although I questioned her ability to get back to the town of Pembroke on it, I did as she bid me.

When the meteorite came up in the conversation, she pointed to a forked tree a few yards away. But the tree was unharmed. I can't explain this discrepancy. I love this delightful woman, but I failed to find proof of her extraordinary tale.

I decided Waneeta needed more rest and was about to insist she return to the cabin with me when she assured me she was fine. I wish I'd stopped her, but I'd no idea what would happen next. I find it hard to believe the events that unfolded, even now.

Waneeta produced a small key from her pocket and as she twisted it in a slit on her conveyance, I felt the ground beneath me shiver. Never before have I felt such fear. The earth vibrated. I looked at her and to my horror, she faded away before my very eyes, she and that 'skidoo' of hers! I rushed forward to grab her, but all that remained were her footprints.

It was long after dark when I finally returned to the cabin. I had spent the day searching for her. Having no appetite, I merely went about my chores and prepared for bed. I'm unable to explain her disappearance and regret that I didn't drag her away from that ugly locomotive. I should have told her how I feel, that I love her, and want her in my life and would do anything for her. Although I'll wait for her to come back in May, I can't shake the feeling I will be disappointed. Very disappointed.

 

Waneeta flipped the page. It was empty. The rest of the journal, in fact, was empty. Stunned, she sank into the pillows. Out of all the crazy events recorded here, one sprang from the page at her. He loved her! Thomas was willing to leave the cabin and his father's dream just for her.

Waneeta heard a noise on the floor above her. Doris, preparing for bed. She bolted upright, remembering Doris’ words.

Tell me in the morning if there's anything interesting in there.

What could she say? That she'd just traveled back in time and spent the weekend with the man who founded her village? In his time, Stafford Village didn't exist. Yes, Thomas didn't even live here, yet. He'd wanted to marry her and was willing to return to Kingston for a better life. Could she tell Doris that Stafford Village came close to not being at all? Doris would recognize her name in the journal, and though she would never believe Waneeta traveled back in time, there was simply too much to explain, to consider, even.

Waneeta pressed the journal to her chest. Doris knew Waneeta had it. It would be read. With words like 'Teevee' and 'Skidoo' in it, even Waneeta's name, its authenticity would be questioned. Poor Doris would be crushed. It was to be the highlight of her museum. All the artifacts she’d collected would now be considered fakes. Her lifelong dream would be over before it started.

And Waneeta would face accusations she could never deny.

She looked down at the journal. It must never be read.

Her knuckles whitened around the bend and mouldy book. Thomas, what have you done? How could it be undone?

It couldn't. Abruptly, a shaky inhalation put her on the verge of tears again. Thomas was dead. Wasn't he? But a few hours ago, he was alive, falling in love. So was she. Indeed, she'd never felt so alive as when she was with him. That's love.

Love could transcend death, Thomas had believed.

And if it could transcend death, it could transcend time.

Without thinking, Waneeta threw off the bedclothes and pulled on her leggings. There wasn't any question of what to do, just a sense of conviction so strong it rivaled her love for Thomas.

She grabbed the journal, but when she reached for the bedroom door, she stopped. She could change the past. She could stop Thomas from writing those words that would put Doris’ dream in jeopardy.

With shoulders straight and jaw tight, she set the journal back on the bed. If she was quiet, she could slip out the back door without Doris even hearing her.

The outside air was crisp, her breath streaming out in front of her. As she quietly closed the front door behind her, she looked up. The moon had risen enough to light her way. It would be a long walk, but Waneeta knew what would pull her along the crusty snow toward the site where the meteorite had hit. Love. Her dream to be with Thomas. Getting rained on by meteorite dust had somehow sent her into the past. Swiping the dust off had returned her to the future. Yes, she knew what to do. She couldn't explain why time had chose to bend to touch her with Thomas. Perhaps love did it.

She glanced down at the snowy trail half an hour later. Only her footprints and the snowmobile trail could be seen. No meteorite hunters had come this way. Yet.

Urgency hurried her on. That and the desire to stop any of those relic hunters from returning to the past, too.  She plowed along, always searching, until finally, out of breath, she found the nugget. It had sunk deep into untouched snow. Its crater was wide and crusted with ice. After grabbing it, she wiped off the ice still clinging to it.

Here she and Thomas had lost each other. Despite the crisp night, she could still feel the heat of his love within her. Waneeta closed her eyes, allowing that warmth to wash over her and the barriers of death and time. She held the meteorite close to her chest. Held it tight to take it back with her.

That same peculiar feeling started, but this time, Waneeta welcomed it, encouraging it to carry her back to him. When the nausea faded away, Waneeta slumped to the ground.

In an instant, she was on her feet again.

"Thomas!" she called.

Silence. Only silence. She glanced around. This was the woods Thomas had known. But they no longer frightened her. The smaller forked tree, unsullied path, the hint of wood smoke, all embraced her.

 It wasn't hard to follow the scent of Thomas' fire, and the moon was bright enough to light the way they'd forged only hours ago.

"Thomas!" she cried when she reached the cabin.

Its door swung open, and Waneeta recognized the figure silhouetted in the doorway, warm firelight bathing his back in yellow.

"Waneeta?"

She rushed into his arms, his woodsy male scent comforting her. "Thomas, it's you! Oh, it's you!" She couldn't find the words she needed to describe how she felt. All she could think of was one simple phrase.

"I love you, Thomas."

His arms tightened around her, and he lowered his mouth onto hers. "Waneeta, I was afraid you were a dream! Stay with me, please. I love you. I didn't tell you that before. And I have so much to say to you."

"So do I! I love you, too, Thomas. What day is this? How long have I been gone?"

"Two days. I searched for you, but when I couldn’t find you, I returned. I’ve just started to write in my journal about you. Come in where it’s warm."

She laughed and they hurried inside, each clinging to the other. "Don't write in that journal. Because I've got the most incredible story to tell you," she whispered, stopping to drop the meteorite on the washstand and reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You were right. Love is powerful enough for anything."

She smiled, shakily. "Even powerful enough to transcend time itself."

Kissing her, Thomas kicked the door shut behind them.

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Author’s note:

Thank you for buying this novella. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please review it at the website from which you purchased it. I hope to have other fantasy and time travel books available under the name of Georgina Lee. Have a good day!

Check out Georgina Lee's fantasy romance blog.

http://thetwinplanets.blogspot.com/