“None of what happened to Johnny or Billy or Irene is your fault. Johnny bein’ here now ain’t got nothin’ to do with you!”
“How is it that Irene remembered a girl who danced with Johnny at the prom...a girl who looked like me...before I ever went back?”
“I dreamed about the prom, about Maggie, right after I met her the first time in the hospital. The dream was so real, down to the smallest details...and it felt like a memory, yet I knew it wasn’t. I remembered the prom, and she wasn’t there,” Johnny broke in, contributing to Maggie’s argument.
“That which has been is now; and that which is to be has already been,” Gus quoted quietly.
Maggie and Johnny stared at him, their eyes wide, not understanding.
“Wh-what?” Maggie stuttered.
“It’s scripture. In Ecclesiastes. See, nobody knows that verse. Everybody quotes the parts about there being a time to be born and a time to die, a time to dance and a time to mourn. But if you keep reading, you’ll find that verse. My grandma used to quote it. I think it helped her understand her ability. And you have the same ability, Miss Margaret. You gotta listen to me, child. Listen good. You’re tryin’ to put everything in a tidy little box and wrap it up tight, but I’m tellin’ you, you have the ability to change lives and alter destinies. I don’t know why or how Johnny is here, but be thankful for it, and don’t go tryin’ to unravel mysteries that can’t be unraveled without unraveling people’s lives.”
“I’m not trying to do anything, Gus! I didn’t try to go back in time. I just did!”
"I don't want to scare you, Miss Margaret, but you gotta understand. My grandma was deathly afraid of slipping into another time. And after that first time, when she'd seen the slaves trying to escape, she felt the layers were especially thin. She said it almost got to the point where she feared sleeping alone or being alone in any place where the history of her family was the strongest. She made my grandpa hold her while she slept, to make sure she didn't slip away."
Johnny and Maggie shared a glance, remembering how she had clung to him in the car, holding onto his hand for dear life.
"My grandma worked in a big old house in Birmingham owned by some rich white folk. Her mother, and her mother's mother had both worked in that house as well, along with various cousins and aunts and uncles going back several generations. That was how she got the job. Originally, our family had been slaves, and after emancipation, we just kept on working for the same family, 'cept we got paid a little. It wasn't really much different than it had been before. After my grandmother had her experience with the dogs and the slave trackers, she said working in that big house became a nightmare. It was as if the floodgates had opened. The blood connection, along with the house that had been standing for more than a century, filled with the history of her family, became like one of them houses of mirrors at the circus. You ever been in one of those? There's a million of you in all different shapes and sizes, and you don't know which one is real - which one is actually you.
"One day my grandma was at work in the big house and she started feelin' poorly. The lady of the house told her to rest herself in the parlor in a big rocking chair. My grandma fell asleep, rocking back and forth in that chair. She woke up to find a young white girl strugglin' to fight off an older man who was makin' improper advances." Gus looked uncomfortable but soldiered on. "My grandma didn't think twice and started poundin' on the man's back, tryin' to pull him off the girl. The man ran from the room, and the girl cried in my grandmother's arms, begging her not tell what she'd seen.
“The girl was dressed in the style popular around the turn of the century, and my grandma realized she had woken up in the same room, but not the same decade. She was afraid, both for herself and the girl. The girl was about eighteen or nineteen and was apparently engaged to be married. The man who had attacked her was the girl’s uncle, and the girl knew it would destroy her mother, embarrass her fiance and his family, and probably cost her her engagement. The girl was more afraid of losing her fiance than she was of her uncle, and she promised my grandma that she would 'be more careful' in the future.
“A black woman, a servant, walked into the room while my grandma was trying to calm the young woman. She apparently worked in the house; my grandma said she was certain it was a young version of her grandmother. Of course the woman who walked in didn't recognize my grandma and demanded her name and who she was, tellin' her to leave at once, puttin' her arm around the young woman, who protested in defense of my grandma. The servant hurried the young lady out of the room, telling my grandma she was sending for the authorities. My grandma got in the rocking chair and pulled her Saint Christopher necklace out, and started rubbing it and rocking in the chair, holdin' my grandfather's face in her mind. She said she came abruptly awake, back where she'd been when she'd fallen asleep, thankfully back in her own time."
"She saved the girl, Gus! How could that be a bad thing?" Maggie interrupted.
Gus looked at her for a long moment, his eyes grave. "My grandma was shaken up and didn't want to be alone. She wanted to go home and went lookin' for her employer." Gus reached for his hat and pulled it off his head, rubbing the brim and twisting it between his long fingers. Maggie didn't like the way he'd paused in the story, as if trying to find the courage to continue.
"What's wrong Gus?" Johnny asked softly. "What aren't you saying?"
"When she found the lady of the house....she didn't recognize her," Gus whispered. "Her voice was almost the same, but the woman was tall where her previous employer had been short - her hair dark where the lady of the house had been blonde."
"I don't understand. What changed?" Johnny questioned.