For Every End, There is a Beginning

                   

An Important Notice to Readers...

     Although this fiction blog is illustrated with photos of dolls, and dollhouse miniatures, the language and content of the storyline is intended for an adult audience.  Please be advised.

Thank You,

The Author

           

Fr. Kevin... happy to be home

        "For Pete's sake, Kevin!  Just what in the world are you looking for?  If you tell us, maybe we can help you find it"  Maureen stood at the bottom, yelling up the flight of stairs.  When no reply was offered, she wandered back into the living room, joining her husband on the sofa, who was busy examining the abandoned pocket watch.  "Well, he seems to be be back to normal.  Mostly."  She gave him a finger poke to the shoulder, which earned her an arched brow.  "I told you I knew what I was doing."

            "You don't really expect me to believe that this...this hoodoo nonsense did the trick, do you?  The man is pulling our leg for sure.  I bet he's upstairs having himself a good laugh over your fairy dance."

             "Honestly, Ted...you're the most cynical person I've ever met.  You saw it with your own eyes, and you still claim disbelief.  Kevin is back to normal!"

              "Then why the hell is he racing around the rectory?  Explain that.  I think he's just embarrassed to have been caught going on a bender, and you offered him an easy out.  I suspect that he'll sober up a bit more and then apologize profusely for his...indiscretion."  He held the watch up, the gold cover reflecting the late afternoon sun from the parlor window.  "You ever see this before?"

                She shook her head.  "No, I don't think so.  My Dad had a pocket watch.  It was his father's.  But that one was silver, and I know for a fact that Patrick has it.  He wore it on our wedding day."  She fingered the fob hanging from his palm, but before she could inspect it, found it it ripped from her hand by a returning Kevin.

               "That belongs to me."  He shoved the time piece in his pants pocket, and without a single shred of additional information, headed through the kitchen and out the back door.

________________________________________

              He felt lousy.  Queasy, with his head pounding, but...Thank the Lord Almighty... alive.  A hundred percent alive, and back to his own time and place.  He swept his eyes over the church grounds, over grown and weedy, but blessedly here in the 21st Century.  He tried to remember the final few seconds before he'd "jumped", but could only recall bit and pieces.  He on the floor of the bank's vault, so sick and exhausted.  Wanting to get the words out while he could.  Roxie in that strange body, covering his mouth.   And then, nothing.  Nothing at all until he woke up here on the sofa, staring up into Maureen's face, with no clue as to why she was there or what she was doing.

             His first thoughts had been for Roxanne.  Had she jumped with him?  Was she here in this time and space?  It was obvious she wasn't in the rectory, but reasoning...if there was any reasoning involved in all of this craziness...would put her where ever the other women had been at the time of the jump.  He needed to find her.   Make sure she was alright.  That she had really made it through the time warp too.  She surely must have, as the alternative wasn't knowledge he could live with.

_________________________________
                               

A storm gathers near the Cape

            From the second floor window of the beach house, she could see the storm moving over the water, the clouds heavy and dark.  She paused at the window for a few seconds, and then went about her business, setting the lap tops nearest the outlets.  Despite the gloom of the approaching bad weather, the huge palladium windows allowed enough light to work by.  Though it would have been helpful, she resisted the urge to turn on any lights, less it attract the attention of the neighbors who might find it odd in a house that rightfully should be empty.

          It was an old ploy, but one that had been successful in the past.  Most people never imagined that the things they were looking for might be right under their very noses.  For over a week, she'd been able to lead his people on a merry goose chase over five different states, while never being more than 100 miles from their very location.  They were good, but she was better.  And now he was back.  Of that she was certain.  Teddy might know the ins and outs of staying under the radar, but the silly bitch obviously did not.  First, it was that $3.59 purchase at the airport in Florida, then a cell phone call from Logan International.  It was things like that, things people took for granted, that made them track able.

           All she needed was a chance to talk to him.  Explain things from her perspective without the little twit's interference.  If he wanted to be married, so be it.  She could live with a part time arrangement.  Had done it plenty of times.  But he needed her as much as she needed him.  What they had went beyond a simple relationship.  It was symbiotic in nature...he could dish it out, and she could take it.  A complicated dance that was at the core of who they were.  She just needed Teddy to understand that.  Cross legged on the floor, she pulled the computer into her lap and struggled with the right words as the downpour finally reached the shores of the Cape.

____________________________

           She awoke with a start, mouth open and gasping for air.  It had been the same way the first time, the feeling that she was suffocating.  But unlike the initial jump, her return was a joyful realization that she was back where she belonged.  The water from the shower head beat down on her head and shoulders, and a look down at her naked self was proof enough that she was back.  The long narrow toes, painted purple and pink, the scar at the ankle left over from a childhood accident, the dancer's legs.  All there in a complete package.

          She turned the knob, and the water ran to a trickle, a luxury she would never again take for granted.  She grabbed the shower curtain, and was about to pull it back, then had a thought.  Kevin.  Did he travel with her?  Would he be on the other side of the tub?  And she standing there stark naked?
The thought made a giggle rise somewhere in the back of her throat.  Awkward, to say the least.  She grabbed the plastic, and draped it in front of her, then poked her head out.

              "Hello?  Anybody there?  Kevin...?"

           Her voice echoed in the empty bathroom.  She was alone.  At least here in the shower.  She reached for a towel, and stepped out of the tub, drying herself off in the process.  The sight of her worn terry cloth rub hanging on the door hook, her dirty clothes in a pile next to the hamper made her want to weep.  She was home.  Safe at home.
           

Home again

Copyright  Victoria T. Rocus 2014
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