Chapter One: Blue Springs, Georgia, Population 1
The Fourth Wall is COMPLETED! So, I'll be posting it in chapter increments. The prologue has already been posted, so I'll start with the first chapter here.
***
Year 2070.
Faith stared out in shock. She had just climbed up on the boulder to look at the beautiful scenery . . . and the scenery was gone! Replacing the fields of crops were fields overgrown with weeds, and . . . what on earth was that thing in front of her? It looked as though someone had taken a sheet of grey rock and laid it down. What sort of place was this?
"I must be dreaming," she said to herself. She pinched her arm furiously, but though the pain flared, nothing changed.
She slid down off the boulder. The field it stood in was overgrown as well. Across the sheet of rock was another one, behind which stood a large building. It was the strangest building Faith had ever seen. It was too plain to be a house, yet too large to be of any other use. Why would anyone need a building that big, even just to live in? A huge orange sign on the building said "Home Depot." What in the world was a home depot?
"Bloody hell . . ." Faith turned around at the voice. Another girl sat next to the boulder. At least, Faith thought she was a girl. Her blonde hair was cropped very short, like a boy’s. If she was a girl, she was dressed most indecently. She wore some sort of heavy undergarment, which clung to her body in such a way that it showed that which a lady ought not show. Her shirt, in contrast, hung loosely on her body, seeming to add extra bulk. It looked as though the man who had made the shirt had tried his hardest to use as much material on it as humanly possible. What sort of a garment was this for anyone to wear? But then, Faith herself was in her nightclothes, so she couldn’t say much.
"What the hell happened?" the girl asked, not seeming to notice her. She spoke with some sort of accent; British, Faith guessed. She seemed just as shocked by her surroundings as Faith had been. She ran out onto the sheet of rock, not seeming at all afraid of it, and looked into the distance.
There was another sound behind her. Faith turned and, again, found someone by the boulder, this time emerging from behind it. This one was dressed no better than the girl, and she was older and should have known better. She looked around the overgrown field, the same look on her face that the other girl had worn. Then she spotted Faith.
"Hello," she said, kindly. "I am the Angel Gabriel. Can I help you . . . or should you be helping me?"
"The Angel Gabriel?" Faith asked. "Does that mean I have died?"
"No, of course not," the angel said. "At least I don’t think so . . . this certainly isn’t what I was picturing Heaven to look like."
"But you said . . ."
"I have returned to Earth to preach the Good News!" she exclaimed.
"Oh," Faith said, and decided to let the matter drop. There were slightly more important matters than who this woman thought she was.
"You seem to be in the same situation I am in," the angel said. "Did you just suddenly find yourself here?"
"Yes," Faith said, relieved that someone understood. "I was climbing on the boulder, and then . . . here I was."
"I was taking a short nap. When I woke up . . . I thought perhaps I was dreaming, but I don’t seem to be."
"I don’t think I am, either," Faith said. "Where do you suppose we are?"
"I’m not sure," the angel said. "It looks a little like the clearing I was just in . . . but it doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for quite some time."
"Yes. And the scenery is mostly the same," Faith said. "I come to this place a lot because I love the view." She looked out to the fields of weeds. "The scenery looks the same, the landscape . . . but everything else is very different . . ." Faith stopped for a minute and looked around. She had just had the oddest feeling that they were being watched.
"What is it?" the angel asked.
"Nothing," Faith replied. "I thought . . ."
"You there!" came a voice from above. It was the British girl who had wandered off earlier. She slid down off the sheet of rock and back to the clearing, running up to Faith and the angel. "Can you tell me . . . what’s happened to the town?"
"The town?" Faith asked, bewildered.
"Blue Springs! What the hell happened to Blue Springs?! I fell asleep here last night, and when I woke up . . . what happened? The Wilsons! Are the Wilsons all right?"
"Calm down," the angel said. "We don’t know what happened. We just arrived here too."
"The town is deserted . . . where is everyone?"
"We’re in Blue Springs?" Faith asked.
"Of course we’re in Blue Springs!" the Brit yelled, exasperated. "Where else would we be?"
"But . . . but nothing looks familiar! I’ve lived in Blue Springs all my life." The Brit softened a little.
"Well . . . maybe you’re just in another part of town, that you don’t recognize. Look there, see?" she said, pointing to a sign. "We’re on Laurel Street, right there."
"Odd," the angel said, behind them. "That’s not the sign I remember."
"Laurel Street?" Faith asked. "The Laurel plantation is just over the hill there . . . but when did they name a street after them?"
"It’s always been Laurel Street since I’ve been here," the angel said. "Maybe we should ask her." She gestured behind her.
"Who?" Faith said.
"The other girl who came with us." She pointed back to the boulder. Indeed, there was another girl there that no one else had noticed. She was sitting on the ground, her head bent. This one was more decently dressed than the others; she, at least, was wearing a skirt. Her long, blonde hair was partially bound in a kerchief. And she seemed to be cradling something that looked like a violin case. A musician? But her dress was so odd. Maybe she was some sort of gypsy. Faith had heard tales of gypsies, but had never seen one . . . but they already had an angel in their midst, so why not?
"Excuse me, miss," the angel said. "Can you help us?" The gypsy looked up, sadly.
"How can I help you?" she said. "I can’t even help myself. Please leave me alone." The other three exchanged glances.
"Well, she’s just a little ray of sunshine, isn’t she?" the Brit muttered.
"We think we’re all in the same boat, here," the angel said. "Maybe if you help us, we can figure out where we are. Do you recognize any of this?" The gypsy sighed and stood up, her violin case hanging at her side. She walked over to the sheet of rock, which was apparently a road, and looked around. Suddenly, she stepped back and jerked her head about, as though something had startled her.
"What is it?" the angel asked.
"Nothing . . ." the gypsy responded, warily. "For a second, I felt like I was being watched . . ."
"Do you recognize anything?"
"This clearing looks the same. But other than that . . ."
"Wait a minute!" Faith exclaimed. She had climbed up next to the road. "This can’t be the clearing where I was. There should be a blacksmith shop right there." She pointed to the large building she had seen earlier.
"Are you sure?" the angel said, climbing up next to her.
"Yes! He did all the iron work on our gate."
"A blacksmith?" the Brit asked, joining them. "There are no blacksmiths here . . ."
"Right there?" the angel said, pointing. "There was a movie theatre there when I was growing up. But they tore it down . . ."
"What do you mean, tore it down?" the gypsy said from behind them. "I saw Gone with the Wind there just last year!"
"I remember," the angel insisted. "They tore it down and the lot was vacant for a long time . . . then they built a hardware store a couple years ago." She looked over at the building. "The building looks the same . . . but it was locally owned . . . when did Home Depot buy it out?"
"It’s been a Home Depot for as long as I’ve been here," the Brit said. "Of course, I haven’t been here that long, so it could be . . ." She trailed off, thinking of something. "Wait a minute. You there," she said pointing to the gypsy.
"My name is Annalise," she said, somewhat primly, "not ‘You There.’" The Brit rolled her eyes.
"Sorry. We should probably learn each other’s names if we’re going to be working together. You’re Annalise . . . that’s a nice name." Annalise looked at her.
"Thank you," she said, caught off guard a little. "I’ve . . . always liked it."
"I’m Elizabeth," the Brit continued. "You are . . ?"
"Faith Hutchinson," Faith said.
"And I’m the Angel Gabriel," the angel said. They all looked at her for a moment.
"Right then," Elizabeth said, finally. "Very well . . . Annalise, when you saw Gone to the Wind, was it a new movie?"
"Of course," Annalise replied.
Elizabeth sighed. "This may seem like an odd question but . . . what year is it?"
Annalise gave her an odd look. "Last time I looked, it was 1940." Now the odd looks shifted to her. 1940? Was this girl crazy?
"And you, Angel Gabriel . . . what’s the year?"
"1980," the angel said slowly. Elizabeth went over to Faith.
"And judging by your clothing . . . I’d say you were from sometime in the 1800's."
"1850," Faith said. "What’s going on?" Elizabeth sighed, putting her hand to her head.
"Well," she said, "the calender in my room says it’s 2000. And I still have vivid memories of that silly Y2K scare." Faith was really confused now. 2000? Y2K? "We seem to all be from different times. Faith, you remember a blacksmith shop being on that spot . . . and in 1850, I have no doubt that there was one. But before 1940, they tore down the blacksmith shop and built the movie theatre that Annalise and the Angel Gabriel remember. Then before 1980, they tore down the movie theatre and built the locally owned hardware store that Gabriel remembers, which was bought by Home Depot sometime before 2000."
"You mean," the angel said, "that we were all pulled out of our own times and placed here? Like in the Asimov novel?"
"Well . . . I haven’t read it, but that sounds right."
"Then, what year are we in now?" Faith asked.
"Well," Elizabeth said, looking around. "I think we can safely put ourselves after the year 2000. And since the town I remember still has a few hundred people left in it . . . and since it doesn’t look like anything here has been touched for quite a while . . . we’re probably a good fifty or sixty years into the twenty-first century."
"But why the four of us?" Annalise asked. "And how did we end up here?"
"Perhaps I can help," came a new voice. They all turned to see a man coming toward them down the road. He was a skinny man, with a boy-like face and slightly mussed dirty blonde hair; yet despite his youthful appearance, he had an air of authority and age, as though he was in charge of a very heavy responsibility.
He looked at each of the four women in turn. "Annalise Bridges, Elizabeth Porpington-Potts, Faith Hutchinson, Gabrielle Rochester . . . my name is Daniel Farthington, Caretaker of Blue Springs. Welcome to 2070."
***
Annalise looked around them as they walked down the road. The more she saw, the more she became convinced that this was, indeed, Blue Springs. That large brick building looked like her old high school . . . but it was much bigger now. There was another section that Annalise didn’t even remember. She knew there had been talk of building a new gymnasium; apparently the additions hadn’t stopped there. Over there was the old Methodist church, looking a lot more dilapidated than Annalise remembered. They were walking on Laurel Street, which had changed a little, but was still very much like the street Annalise knew. Even most of the houses were the same as Annalise remembered them. They didn’t pass by Annalise’s home, but she did spot the home of Jonathon Reed, her music teacher. It was in the same state of disrepair as most of the buildings, as if it had not been occupied for several years.
They were approaching the intersection. Mr. Farthington, the man who was leading them, was speaking. "I’ve been planning for your arrival for several years," he said. "You see, your time is my distant past."
"But, how did we end up in your time?" Elizabeth asked. She and the lady who thought she was an angel were the ones doing most of the talking. Faith was the most unfamiliar with her surroundings, so was still in a sort of shock.
"I’m not sure, but I can make a guess," Mr. Farthington said. "The boulder you all touched seems to be some sort of nexus. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you are still in the same place. This is one of the main streets into Blue Springs . . . although I daresay it is quite a bit different from the street you know . . . especially you, Faith." Faith started at the sound of her name. "It’s this building, here." They walked toward a building that Annalise recognized as the old town hall. Next to it was an addition that Annalise had never seen before. A faded sign in front said "Blue Springs Archives." The building looked in better shape than most of the other buildings in the town.
"We’ve tried to analyze this nexus, but it is beyond our understanding. But what I do know is that your disappearances have made a profound impact on the town. As a result, Blue Springs has become a ghost town. For the past twenty years, I have been the only person here."
"You’ve been here by yourself for twenty years?" Faith asked. The man nodded as he opened the door.
"It’s not as bad as it sounds," he said. "There’s another town about twenty miles away. I drive up there for anything I need that isn’t provided here."
"Any family?" Gabrielle asked.
"My parents passed on years ago. I’ve got an older sister who calls me every so often and begs me to leave . . . but I have a responsibility here." As Annalise entered the building, she got that feeling again . . . the feeling that someone was watching her. Looking at the others, she could see that they felt it too.
"Does anyone get the feeling that we’re not alone?" Elizabeth asked, voicing the concern of the group. But the feeling passed just as quickly as before.
"How would our disappearance turn Blue Springs into a ghost town?" Gabrielle asked, returning to the original subject.
"That’s what I’m going to show you. My office is right over here." He started down a hallway of cubicles. "This is the Archives. It’s where we keep all our historical data. I’ve been studying it for the past twenty years and I’ve learned a great deal about all of you. Faith, I know you are engaged to a gentleman named Albert Quinn and that you’ve been having some doubts about the wedding." Faith stiffened.
"I . . . I can’t see how this is any business of yours," she said, indignantly.
"Annalise," the man went on, "I know that you are a concert violinist."
"I was a concert violinist," she corrected him.
"Yes, I know about that as well. You’ve been going through a bit of a slump lately."
"That’s putting it mildly," she muttered. Why did he feel the need to bring this up again? Why couldn’t everyone just forget that she had ever learned the violin and move on?
"Gabrielle," Mr. Farthington said to the angel. "I know that you were persuaded at a young age that you were the Angel Gabriel and began preaching the Gospel throughout the area. Also that you had developed quite a following when you disappeared." Gabrielle nodded. "And Elizabeth, I know that you ran away from England two years ago and settled here in Blue Springs. You’ve been working as a maid for the Wilsons."
"How could you know that I ran away?" Elizabeth asked. "I have told no one."
"It’s here in the records," Mr. Farthington said.
"So, you’ve been spying on us?" Annalise asked.
"I wouldn’t call it that," the man replied. "To me, it’s history. You’ve studied George Washington in school, but you wouldn’t call that spying, would you?"
"Still," Elizabeth said. "It’s one thing to know our biographical history and such. But some of the things you’re talking about wouldn’t be in a historical record. It wouldn’t say, for example, that Faith has been feeling uneasy about her marriage. So, how can you know all that you know?"
"Elizabeth," Mr. Farthington said. "Since you’re from the most recent time, you’re probably more familiar with computer technology than some of the others. You know that a great deal of information can be stored in very small spaces." The girl nodded. "And computers have been getting smaller and smaller and able to store more and more data all the time."
"Yes, I know," Elizabeth said. "When I got my computer four years ago, they told me it would have all the memory I would ever need. Now there are whole programs that take up more space."
"Exactly. And technology didn’t stop at the millennium. Computers today can do things that you can scarcely imagine. Thanks to complicated programs and a huge database, I’ve been able to gather all this information about you. I’ve even gathered some information about you that don’t even know."
"How can you know more about us than we know about ourselves?" Annalise asked.
Mr. Farthington frowned. "Well, perhaps I should rephrase that; I know more about your lives than you do. For instance, Faith, are you aware that your fiancé really cares about you?"
"I barely know him," Faith said. "How can you know that?"
"And Annalise, did you know that Jonathon Reed is seriously considering building a concert hall for your recitals?"
"He always said he had big plans for me," she said, half to herself. "He never elaborated."
"Gabrielle," Mr. Farthington continued, "you may not be aware of a gentleman who has been attending your services, and has been wanting to approach you for counseling."
"Does this gentleman have a name?" Gabrielle asked. Annalise saw that she had grown suddenly tense. Up until now, she had been taking everything in stride, but Mr. Farthington had apparently struck a nerve.
"Roger Giovanni," he said.
"I don’t know anyone by that name," she said, shortly.
"And Elizabeth," he went on, "you wouldn’t know that shortly after you disappeared, your parents arrived in town."
"They did?" Elizabeth said. "I guess I left just in time."
"They were both killed in a terrible fire that destroyed half the town," Mr. Farthington continued. The girl sobered. The mood of the group had not been great to begin with, and Mr. Farthington had only brought it down further. Even Gabrielle, the overly-cheerful crazy, was upset over something.
"Well, what good does any of that do us now?" Gabrielle asked. "We can’t go back can we?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, you can," the man said. "And in fact, you must, in order to avoid the future you see here."
"Well then, why take us here and tell us things we don’t want to know?" Annalise exclaimed.
"Why not just send us back now?"
"Because even if I send you back now, Blue Springs will not fare any better," the man said.
"There is more to be done. Faith, you must go back and marry Mr. Quinn."
"Marry him? I hardly know him!" Faith exclaimed.
"I have information on him. I can show it to you."
"No, how can you know more about him than me?" Faith asked. "You said you’re from a whole different time. It seems to me, Mr. Farthington, that you haven’t given us any reason why we should trust you. If I won’t trust someone I hardly know, why would I trust someone I don’t know? I’ll trust Albert before a complete stranger."
"Well, that’s a start," Mr. Farthington muttered. Then he faced Annalise. "Annalise, I know you’ve been listening to this song for the past year, but . . ."
"Let me guess," Annalise said. "I have to resume my musical career." Mr. Farthington nodded. "Well sir, I’ve told everyone else, I may as well tell you. I don’t believe for a minute that my becoming a laughingstock is going to help Blue Springs."
"Mr. Reed doesn’t think you’ll be a laughingstock," the man said.
"Mr Reed is holding on desperately to a dream that I no longer share . . . that doesn’t even exist anymore! I’ve lost my gift! How can I convince you of that?" She looked down at her violin coffin that she had been carrying with her all this time. "I can’t play anymore."
"I guess I share Mr. Reed’s faith in your ability," Mr. Farthington said gently. "Gabrielle, as I’m sure you’re already aware, I need you to go and help that man." Gabrielle sighed.
"Daniel," the angel said, the warmth returning to her voice. "Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to help him, but . . . you say he’s been attending my services?"
"Faithfully."
"Then he should be getting all the help he needs," she said, growing curt again. "I preach to the multitudes. I see no reason why I should repeat the message to individuals."
"Some people respond better to a conversation than they do to a sermon." He turned to Elizabeth.
"I need to make up with my parents," Elizabeth guessed.
Mr. Farthington nodded. "And prevent the fire." Elizabeth shook her head.
"I see what you mean about the fire, but . . . you would not ask me to make up with my parents if you knew what they had said to me . . . if you knew what it was like to live in that house."
"Well, actually I do, but that’s beside the point." Elizabeth just looked at him. "You would not reconcile to save their lives?"
"We only have your word that the fire even happened," Elizabeth said. "How do we know you aren’t just making it up to make me go back?"
"You don’t want to go back on your own?"
"Mr. Farthington," Annalise said. "After what you’ve told us, it doesn’t look like any of us have a future we’re happy with. Elizabeth’s had a tiff with her parents, which is only going to be reopened when she meets them here; Faith is going to be forced into a marriage she wants no part of with a person she barely knows and clearly doesn’t trust; Gabrielle’s being put in some situation she doesn’t want--I don’t know what, but I can see it; and I have known for the past year that I have no future in Blue Springs! It’s been convincing others of that fact that’s been the problem. For me, this is a blessing! This year might suit me just fine." Mr. Farthington looked at her, growing more helpless at every word. "From your perspective, our disappearance is a thing of the distant past. Why should we go back? The damage has already been done."
"Because you were not there to prevent it," Mr. Farthington said.
"We have only your word on that. And like Faith said, none of us know you. We have no reason to trust you." Mr. Farthington sighed. In that sigh, Annalise could hear twenty years of loneliness. Despite his assurances, Mr. Farthington had gone through twenty years alone in this place, just for this opportunity; an opportunity that he was now losing. Annalise sighed, and softened a bit.
"But on the other hand," she said, softly, "we have no reason not to trust you either. I guess we at least owe it to you to hear your case." They looked at each other for a moment. "We are at an impasse, Mr. Farthington. Your job is convince us. So start convincing."
***
End of chapter 1.
"What's next?"
***
Year 2070.
Faith stared out in shock. She had just climbed up on the boulder to look at the beautiful scenery . . . and the scenery was gone! Replacing the fields of crops were fields overgrown with weeds, and . . . what on earth was that thing in front of her? It looked as though someone had taken a sheet of grey rock and laid it down. What sort of place was this?
"I must be dreaming," she said to herself. She pinched her arm furiously, but though the pain flared, nothing changed.
She slid down off the boulder. The field it stood in was overgrown as well. Across the sheet of rock was another one, behind which stood a large building. It was the strangest building Faith had ever seen. It was too plain to be a house, yet too large to be of any other use. Why would anyone need a building that big, even just to live in? A huge orange sign on the building said "Home Depot." What in the world was a home depot?
"Bloody hell . . ." Faith turned around at the voice. Another girl sat next to the boulder. At least, Faith thought she was a girl. Her blonde hair was cropped very short, like a boy’s. If she was a girl, she was dressed most indecently. She wore some sort of heavy undergarment, which clung to her body in such a way that it showed that which a lady ought not show. Her shirt, in contrast, hung loosely on her body, seeming to add extra bulk. It looked as though the man who had made the shirt had tried his hardest to use as much material on it as humanly possible. What sort of a garment was this for anyone to wear? But then, Faith herself was in her nightclothes, so she couldn’t say much.
"What the hell happened?" the girl asked, not seeming to notice her. She spoke with some sort of accent; British, Faith guessed. She seemed just as shocked by her surroundings as Faith had been. She ran out onto the sheet of rock, not seeming at all afraid of it, and looked into the distance.
There was another sound behind her. Faith turned and, again, found someone by the boulder, this time emerging from behind it. This one was dressed no better than the girl, and she was older and should have known better. She looked around the overgrown field, the same look on her face that the other girl had worn. Then she spotted Faith.
"Hello," she said, kindly. "I am the Angel Gabriel. Can I help you . . . or should you be helping me?"
"The Angel Gabriel?" Faith asked. "Does that mean I have died?"
"No, of course not," the angel said. "At least I don’t think so . . . this certainly isn’t what I was picturing Heaven to look like."
"But you said . . ."
"I have returned to Earth to preach the Good News!" she exclaimed.
"Oh," Faith said, and decided to let the matter drop. There were slightly more important matters than who this woman thought she was.
"You seem to be in the same situation I am in," the angel said. "Did you just suddenly find yourself here?"
"Yes," Faith said, relieved that someone understood. "I was climbing on the boulder, and then . . . here I was."
"I was taking a short nap. When I woke up . . . I thought perhaps I was dreaming, but I don’t seem to be."
"I don’t think I am, either," Faith said. "Where do you suppose we are?"
"I’m not sure," the angel said. "It looks a little like the clearing I was just in . . . but it doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for quite some time."
"Yes. And the scenery is mostly the same," Faith said. "I come to this place a lot because I love the view." She looked out to the fields of weeds. "The scenery looks the same, the landscape . . . but everything else is very different . . ." Faith stopped for a minute and looked around. She had just had the oddest feeling that they were being watched.
"What is it?" the angel asked.
"Nothing," Faith replied. "I thought . . ."
"You there!" came a voice from above. It was the British girl who had wandered off earlier. She slid down off the sheet of rock and back to the clearing, running up to Faith and the angel. "Can you tell me . . . what’s happened to the town?"
"The town?" Faith asked, bewildered.
"Blue Springs! What the hell happened to Blue Springs?! I fell asleep here last night, and when I woke up . . . what happened? The Wilsons! Are the Wilsons all right?"
"Calm down," the angel said. "We don’t know what happened. We just arrived here too."
"The town is deserted . . . where is everyone?"
"We’re in Blue Springs?" Faith asked.
"Of course we’re in Blue Springs!" the Brit yelled, exasperated. "Where else would we be?"
"But . . . but nothing looks familiar! I’ve lived in Blue Springs all my life." The Brit softened a little.
"Well . . . maybe you’re just in another part of town, that you don’t recognize. Look there, see?" she said, pointing to a sign. "We’re on Laurel Street, right there."
"Odd," the angel said, behind them. "That’s not the sign I remember."
"Laurel Street?" Faith asked. "The Laurel plantation is just over the hill there . . . but when did they name a street after them?"
"It’s always been Laurel Street since I’ve been here," the angel said. "Maybe we should ask her." She gestured behind her.
"Who?" Faith said.
"The other girl who came with us." She pointed back to the boulder. Indeed, there was another girl there that no one else had noticed. She was sitting on the ground, her head bent. This one was more decently dressed than the others; she, at least, was wearing a skirt. Her long, blonde hair was partially bound in a kerchief. And she seemed to be cradling something that looked like a violin case. A musician? But her dress was so odd. Maybe she was some sort of gypsy. Faith had heard tales of gypsies, but had never seen one . . . but they already had an angel in their midst, so why not?
"Excuse me, miss," the angel said. "Can you help us?" The gypsy looked up, sadly.
"How can I help you?" she said. "I can’t even help myself. Please leave me alone." The other three exchanged glances.
"Well, she’s just a little ray of sunshine, isn’t she?" the Brit muttered.
"We think we’re all in the same boat, here," the angel said. "Maybe if you help us, we can figure out where we are. Do you recognize any of this?" The gypsy sighed and stood up, her violin case hanging at her side. She walked over to the sheet of rock, which was apparently a road, and looked around. Suddenly, she stepped back and jerked her head about, as though something had startled her.
"What is it?" the angel asked.
"Nothing . . ." the gypsy responded, warily. "For a second, I felt like I was being watched . . ."
"Do you recognize anything?"
"This clearing looks the same. But other than that . . ."
"Wait a minute!" Faith exclaimed. She had climbed up next to the road. "This can’t be the clearing where I was. There should be a blacksmith shop right there." She pointed to the large building she had seen earlier.
"Are you sure?" the angel said, climbing up next to her.
"Yes! He did all the iron work on our gate."
"A blacksmith?" the Brit asked, joining them. "There are no blacksmiths here . . ."
"Right there?" the angel said, pointing. "There was a movie theatre there when I was growing up. But they tore it down . . ."
"What do you mean, tore it down?" the gypsy said from behind them. "I saw Gone with the Wind there just last year!"
"I remember," the angel insisted. "They tore it down and the lot was vacant for a long time . . . then they built a hardware store a couple years ago." She looked over at the building. "The building looks the same . . . but it was locally owned . . . when did Home Depot buy it out?"
"It’s been a Home Depot for as long as I’ve been here," the Brit said. "Of course, I haven’t been here that long, so it could be . . ." She trailed off, thinking of something. "Wait a minute. You there," she said pointing to the gypsy.
"My name is Annalise," she said, somewhat primly, "not ‘You There.’" The Brit rolled her eyes.
"Sorry. We should probably learn each other’s names if we’re going to be working together. You’re Annalise . . . that’s a nice name." Annalise looked at her.
"Thank you," she said, caught off guard a little. "I’ve . . . always liked it."
"I’m Elizabeth," the Brit continued. "You are . . ?"
"Faith Hutchinson," Faith said.
"And I’m the Angel Gabriel," the angel said. They all looked at her for a moment.
"Right then," Elizabeth said, finally. "Very well . . . Annalise, when you saw Gone to the Wind, was it a new movie?"
"Of course," Annalise replied.
Elizabeth sighed. "This may seem like an odd question but . . . what year is it?"
Annalise gave her an odd look. "Last time I looked, it was 1940." Now the odd looks shifted to her. 1940? Was this girl crazy?
"And you, Angel Gabriel . . . what’s the year?"
"1980," the angel said slowly. Elizabeth went over to Faith.
"And judging by your clothing . . . I’d say you were from sometime in the 1800's."
"1850," Faith said. "What’s going on?" Elizabeth sighed, putting her hand to her head.
"Well," she said, "the calender in my room says it’s 2000. And I still have vivid memories of that silly Y2K scare." Faith was really confused now. 2000? Y2K? "We seem to all be from different times. Faith, you remember a blacksmith shop being on that spot . . . and in 1850, I have no doubt that there was one. But before 1940, they tore down the blacksmith shop and built the movie theatre that Annalise and the Angel Gabriel remember. Then before 1980, they tore down the movie theatre and built the locally owned hardware store that Gabriel remembers, which was bought by Home Depot sometime before 2000."
"You mean," the angel said, "that we were all pulled out of our own times and placed here? Like in the Asimov novel?"
"Well . . . I haven’t read it, but that sounds right."
"Then, what year are we in now?" Faith asked.
"Well," Elizabeth said, looking around. "I think we can safely put ourselves after the year 2000. And since the town I remember still has a few hundred people left in it . . . and since it doesn’t look like anything here has been touched for quite a while . . . we’re probably a good fifty or sixty years into the twenty-first century."
"But why the four of us?" Annalise asked. "And how did we end up here?"
"Perhaps I can help," came a new voice. They all turned to see a man coming toward them down the road. He was a skinny man, with a boy-like face and slightly mussed dirty blonde hair; yet despite his youthful appearance, he had an air of authority and age, as though he was in charge of a very heavy responsibility.
He looked at each of the four women in turn. "Annalise Bridges, Elizabeth Porpington-Potts, Faith Hutchinson, Gabrielle Rochester . . . my name is Daniel Farthington, Caretaker of Blue Springs. Welcome to 2070."
***
Annalise looked around them as they walked down the road. The more she saw, the more she became convinced that this was, indeed, Blue Springs. That large brick building looked like her old high school . . . but it was much bigger now. There was another section that Annalise didn’t even remember. She knew there had been talk of building a new gymnasium; apparently the additions hadn’t stopped there. Over there was the old Methodist church, looking a lot more dilapidated than Annalise remembered. They were walking on Laurel Street, which had changed a little, but was still very much like the street Annalise knew. Even most of the houses were the same as Annalise remembered them. They didn’t pass by Annalise’s home, but she did spot the home of Jonathon Reed, her music teacher. It was in the same state of disrepair as most of the buildings, as if it had not been occupied for several years.
They were approaching the intersection. Mr. Farthington, the man who was leading them, was speaking. "I’ve been planning for your arrival for several years," he said. "You see, your time is my distant past."
"But, how did we end up in your time?" Elizabeth asked. She and the lady who thought she was an angel were the ones doing most of the talking. Faith was the most unfamiliar with her surroundings, so was still in a sort of shock.
"I’m not sure, but I can make a guess," Mr. Farthington said. "The boulder you all touched seems to be some sort of nexus. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you are still in the same place. This is one of the main streets into Blue Springs . . . although I daresay it is quite a bit different from the street you know . . . especially you, Faith." Faith started at the sound of her name. "It’s this building, here." They walked toward a building that Annalise recognized as the old town hall. Next to it was an addition that Annalise had never seen before. A faded sign in front said "Blue Springs Archives." The building looked in better shape than most of the other buildings in the town.
"We’ve tried to analyze this nexus, but it is beyond our understanding. But what I do know is that your disappearances have made a profound impact on the town. As a result, Blue Springs has become a ghost town. For the past twenty years, I have been the only person here."
"You’ve been here by yourself for twenty years?" Faith asked. The man nodded as he opened the door.
"It’s not as bad as it sounds," he said. "There’s another town about twenty miles away. I drive up there for anything I need that isn’t provided here."
"Any family?" Gabrielle asked.
"My parents passed on years ago. I’ve got an older sister who calls me every so often and begs me to leave . . . but I have a responsibility here." As Annalise entered the building, she got that feeling again . . . the feeling that someone was watching her. Looking at the others, she could see that they felt it too.
"Does anyone get the feeling that we’re not alone?" Elizabeth asked, voicing the concern of the group. But the feeling passed just as quickly as before.
"How would our disappearance turn Blue Springs into a ghost town?" Gabrielle asked, returning to the original subject.
"That’s what I’m going to show you. My office is right over here." He started down a hallway of cubicles. "This is the Archives. It’s where we keep all our historical data. I’ve been studying it for the past twenty years and I’ve learned a great deal about all of you. Faith, I know you are engaged to a gentleman named Albert Quinn and that you’ve been having some doubts about the wedding." Faith stiffened.
"I . . . I can’t see how this is any business of yours," she said, indignantly.
"Annalise," the man went on, "I know that you are a concert violinist."
"I was a concert violinist," she corrected him.
"Yes, I know about that as well. You’ve been going through a bit of a slump lately."
"That’s putting it mildly," she muttered. Why did he feel the need to bring this up again? Why couldn’t everyone just forget that she had ever learned the violin and move on?
"Gabrielle," Mr. Farthington said to the angel. "I know that you were persuaded at a young age that you were the Angel Gabriel and began preaching the Gospel throughout the area. Also that you had developed quite a following when you disappeared." Gabrielle nodded. "And Elizabeth, I know that you ran away from England two years ago and settled here in Blue Springs. You’ve been working as a maid for the Wilsons."
"How could you know that I ran away?" Elizabeth asked. "I have told no one."
"It’s here in the records," Mr. Farthington said.
"So, you’ve been spying on us?" Annalise asked.
"I wouldn’t call it that," the man replied. "To me, it’s history. You’ve studied George Washington in school, but you wouldn’t call that spying, would you?"
"Still," Elizabeth said. "It’s one thing to know our biographical history and such. But some of the things you’re talking about wouldn’t be in a historical record. It wouldn’t say, for example, that Faith has been feeling uneasy about her marriage. So, how can you know all that you know?"
"Elizabeth," Mr. Farthington said. "Since you’re from the most recent time, you’re probably more familiar with computer technology than some of the others. You know that a great deal of information can be stored in very small spaces." The girl nodded. "And computers have been getting smaller and smaller and able to store more and more data all the time."
"Yes, I know," Elizabeth said. "When I got my computer four years ago, they told me it would have all the memory I would ever need. Now there are whole programs that take up more space."
"Exactly. And technology didn’t stop at the millennium. Computers today can do things that you can scarcely imagine. Thanks to complicated programs and a huge database, I’ve been able to gather all this information about you. I’ve even gathered some information about you that don’t even know."
"How can you know more about us than we know about ourselves?" Annalise asked.
Mr. Farthington frowned. "Well, perhaps I should rephrase that; I know more about your lives than you do. For instance, Faith, are you aware that your fiancé really cares about you?"
"I barely know him," Faith said. "How can you know that?"
"And Annalise, did you know that Jonathon Reed is seriously considering building a concert hall for your recitals?"
"He always said he had big plans for me," she said, half to herself. "He never elaborated."
"Gabrielle," Mr. Farthington continued, "you may not be aware of a gentleman who has been attending your services, and has been wanting to approach you for counseling."
"Does this gentleman have a name?" Gabrielle asked. Annalise saw that she had grown suddenly tense. Up until now, she had been taking everything in stride, but Mr. Farthington had apparently struck a nerve.
"Roger Giovanni," he said.
"I don’t know anyone by that name," she said, shortly.
"And Elizabeth," he went on, "you wouldn’t know that shortly after you disappeared, your parents arrived in town."
"They did?" Elizabeth said. "I guess I left just in time."
"They were both killed in a terrible fire that destroyed half the town," Mr. Farthington continued. The girl sobered. The mood of the group had not been great to begin with, and Mr. Farthington had only brought it down further. Even Gabrielle, the overly-cheerful crazy, was upset over something.
"Well, what good does any of that do us now?" Gabrielle asked. "We can’t go back can we?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, you can," the man said. "And in fact, you must, in order to avoid the future you see here."
"Well then, why take us here and tell us things we don’t want to know?" Annalise exclaimed.
"Why not just send us back now?"
"Because even if I send you back now, Blue Springs will not fare any better," the man said.
"There is more to be done. Faith, you must go back and marry Mr. Quinn."
"Marry him? I hardly know him!" Faith exclaimed.
"I have information on him. I can show it to you."
"No, how can you know more about him than me?" Faith asked. "You said you’re from a whole different time. It seems to me, Mr. Farthington, that you haven’t given us any reason why we should trust you. If I won’t trust someone I hardly know, why would I trust someone I don’t know? I’ll trust Albert before a complete stranger."
"Well, that’s a start," Mr. Farthington muttered. Then he faced Annalise. "Annalise, I know you’ve been listening to this song for the past year, but . . ."
"Let me guess," Annalise said. "I have to resume my musical career." Mr. Farthington nodded. "Well sir, I’ve told everyone else, I may as well tell you. I don’t believe for a minute that my becoming a laughingstock is going to help Blue Springs."
"Mr. Reed doesn’t think you’ll be a laughingstock," the man said.
"Mr Reed is holding on desperately to a dream that I no longer share . . . that doesn’t even exist anymore! I’ve lost my gift! How can I convince you of that?" She looked down at her violin coffin that she had been carrying with her all this time. "I can’t play anymore."
"I guess I share Mr. Reed’s faith in your ability," Mr. Farthington said gently. "Gabrielle, as I’m sure you’re already aware, I need you to go and help that man." Gabrielle sighed.
"Daniel," the angel said, the warmth returning to her voice. "Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to help him, but . . . you say he’s been attending my services?"
"Faithfully."
"Then he should be getting all the help he needs," she said, growing curt again. "I preach to the multitudes. I see no reason why I should repeat the message to individuals."
"Some people respond better to a conversation than they do to a sermon." He turned to Elizabeth.
"I need to make up with my parents," Elizabeth guessed.
Mr. Farthington nodded. "And prevent the fire." Elizabeth shook her head.
"I see what you mean about the fire, but . . . you would not ask me to make up with my parents if you knew what they had said to me . . . if you knew what it was like to live in that house."
"Well, actually I do, but that’s beside the point." Elizabeth just looked at him. "You would not reconcile to save their lives?"
"We only have your word that the fire even happened," Elizabeth said. "How do we know you aren’t just making it up to make me go back?"
"You don’t want to go back on your own?"
"Mr. Farthington," Annalise said. "After what you’ve told us, it doesn’t look like any of us have a future we’re happy with. Elizabeth’s had a tiff with her parents, which is only going to be reopened when she meets them here; Faith is going to be forced into a marriage she wants no part of with a person she barely knows and clearly doesn’t trust; Gabrielle’s being put in some situation she doesn’t want--I don’t know what, but I can see it; and I have known for the past year that I have no future in Blue Springs! It’s been convincing others of that fact that’s been the problem. For me, this is a blessing! This year might suit me just fine." Mr. Farthington looked at her, growing more helpless at every word. "From your perspective, our disappearance is a thing of the distant past. Why should we go back? The damage has already been done."
"Because you were not there to prevent it," Mr. Farthington said.
"We have only your word on that. And like Faith said, none of us know you. We have no reason to trust you." Mr. Farthington sighed. In that sigh, Annalise could hear twenty years of loneliness. Despite his assurances, Mr. Farthington had gone through twenty years alone in this place, just for this opportunity; an opportunity that he was now losing. Annalise sighed, and softened a bit.
"But on the other hand," she said, softly, "we have no reason not to trust you either. I guess we at least owe it to you to hear your case." They looked at each other for a moment. "We are at an impasse, Mr. Farthington. Your job is convince us. So start convincing."
***
End of chapter 1.
"What's next?"
posted by nonentity | 5:46 PM
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