Through the Storm

Chapter Nine

Exhaust fumes filled my nostrils, horns honking all around. I opened my eyes and stared at the front bumper of a bright yellow taxi.

"What the hell!" someone shouted. I leaped off the road. "Sorry, I...tripped."
"Idiot! You coulda been killed."
Only in New York City could someone materialize out of thin air and get no more than the usual angry driver reactions.

I raced to the safety of the crowded sidewalk, shielding my eyes from the blazing summer sun. Not easy to get your head around, when you're exhausted and just came from a cool, dark evening.

I leaned against a light post to catch my breath. I could still picture Mitch's face as the bullet ripped through him. The image I had tried so hard to focus on. Obviously, it didn't work. Again.

Suck it up and try it again, Scott.

I finally glanced around and recognized the streets of Manhattan. I knew where I was, just not when. The newsstand outside my building had no customers, so I stepped up to make a purchase, keeping my eyes on the revolving front door that my father almost always used.

The doorman, Henry, glanced in my direction, squinting into the sun. I snatched Mets cap from the rack and through it on, pulling the front way down, covering my face.
"I'll take this hat and the New York Times." I handed a slightly damp fifty from my wallet.

"Mets fan, huh? Well, I guess I'll forgive you." He boomed with laughter, and it must have frowned out the steps of the other person approaching.
"Wall Street Journal, please," a very familiar voice said beside me. I turned my back to my father as quickly we possible, then shifted my eyes to the newspaper clutched between my fingers.

July 1, 2004.

How the hell did I get so far back again?

All I could do was keep my back to him and head in the other direction.
"Hey, you forgot your change!"
Luckily, dad didn't run after me. It was safer to take the long way around Central Park before heading to my usual spot. Time travel was kicking my ass and I had to rest. Even though I felt great now, the second I jumped back to 2007, I'd feel like hell again. Like I had the plague or swine flu.

A flash of red hair came out from behind a tree. Long skinny legs stuck straight out. My feet moved twice as fast. It was like chasing water in the middle of a desert. Like she would disappear if I didn't get there fast enough.

"Courtney?" I said, but my voice was constricted.
She kicked off her pink and green tennis shoes and leaned back against the tree, a book resting in her lap.
"Courtney!" I said again, much louder this time.

Her head poked around the tree and she squinted into the sun, probably trying to focus on my face. Then she tossed her book onto the grass and stood up slowly. "Yeah?"

I froze to my spot, staring at her in amazement. She was really here. Alive. But the irony of the situation was gut-wrenching.

My boyfriend, who should still be alive, was dead (or dying) in 2009, and my sister, who I had already lost once, was sitting in the grass here in 2004, sunbathing and catching up on the latest Harry Potter book. She wasn't even sick yet.

As she walked closer, this tiny voice hidden in the back of my head spoke a little louder. Kevin's voice, running through the pros and cons of me talking to this younger version of my sister. Was this something that would potentially end the world?

At this point, I had lost the ability to think rationally and all I wanted was to grab on to something real and familiar. So I did, probably, the most idiotic thing possible.

With a few long strides, I closed the gap between us and pulled her into a tight hug, squeezing her around the arms, making sure she was actual solid matter. I was absorbed in my special moment when her loud, piercing scream went right into my ear. Then she lifted her leg and kneed me in the balls, before wiggling out of my grip and backing up slowly.