The Peregrines

Chapter 26

{I made the photo edit}

{ Edited - 20th Oct, 2020 }
{ Edited - 24th April, 2024 }

She lifted a trembling hand to her forehead and stumbled backwards, mimicking a look of terror. How am I related to this woman?.... I will never know.

"It is truly alarming to contemplate a catastrophe, cataclysm, or disaster! The mere thought of it sends shivers down my spine. However, we can find solace in the fact that the mechanism responsible for resetting loops is quite straightforward: one of us must regularly pass through the entryway. This continuous activity ensures its flexibility and adaptability. The ingress point can be likened to a cavity in freshly kneaded dough; without occasionally prodding it, the opening might seal shut on its own. Without a means of entry or exit—a valve through which the built-up pressures in a closed temporal system can be released—"

With a quick flick of her hands, she created a small poof! motion, as if imitating the burst of a firecracker. "Well, the whole thing becomes unstable."

She leaned down to look at the album once more, flipping through the pages. "I might have a photograph of it, and indeed, I do. This is an entrance point like no other!" She pulled another picture from its sleeve. "Miss Finch and one of her charges stand in the grand entrance to Miss Finch's loop, located in a seldom-visited section of the London Underground. As the tunnel resets, it becomes illuminated with a dazzling light. I have often considered our own entrance to be quite humble in comparison." she said with a hint of envy.

"Just to make sure I understand," Jake said. "If today is September third, 1940, then tomorrow is . . . also September third?"

"A portion of the loop's twenty-four hours falls on September second, however, indeed, it is the third."

"So tomorrow never comes?"

"In a manner of speaking."

I was taken aback when I heard a distant clap that resembled thunder outside. The window, which was gradually growing darker, started to rattle in its frame. Miss Peregrine glanced up and retrieved her watch once more. I found myself puzzled all of a sudden. Why was there thunder outside? I wasn't upset with anyone or anything at all.

"I regret to inform you that I am currently occupied with attending to Miss Bloom, and therefore, I am unable to continue our conversation at this time. However, I kindly invite you to join us for supper, Mr. Portman."

Jake assured her that he would. I wriggled out from behind the desk, and he did the same, and we proceeded to trail behind Miss Peregrine towards the door. "Was my grandfather really running from the Nazis when he came here?" Jake asked.

"He was," she said. "Throughout the dreadful years leading up to the war, a considerable number of children sought our assistance. The prevailing conditions were marked by significant upheaval and turmoil." She looked even more pained as if the memory was still fresh. "I found Abraham at a camp for displaced persons on the mainland. He was a poor, tortured boy, but so strong. I knew at once that he belonged with us."

"Was he—my grandfather—was he like . . ."

"Like us?"

Jake had nodded. Miss Peregrine smiled strangely. "He was like you, Jake." Out of nowhere, a sharp pang shot through my shoulder, causing me to momentarily lose my balance. Despite the intense pain, I managed to suppress the urge to cry out. Thankfully, Miss Peregrine's lightning-fast reflexes kicked in, and she swiftly grabbed hold of me around the waist, effortlessly lifting me back onto my feet.

"It is alright, I am by your side, you will be alright." She said softly.

"I know I'm okay," I muttered.

"Right. Mr Portman, I strongly urge you to freshen up. In the meantime, I will promptly bring Olive to assist you with preparing a bath. Meanwhile, I will personally guide Miss Wilde to a more secluded area, where I will address her needs accordingly."