Unhappenings (36 page)

nevitably, the moment came when we had to stop talking around our situation.

We had both taken a day away from work, at her request. I assumed it was another hooky day, like our aquarium outing, just to give us both a break from ongoing stress. It was mid-February, and we sought warmth and pleasant pastime in the Museum of Natural History. The dioramas and skeletons were not bringing that light of discovery to her eyes. We took a moment to rest on a bench in the mineral room, among a multitude of brightly colored stones in glass cases. I chose that moment to ask her if she was all right.

“He wants an answer,” was all she said.

The dread I felt at pursuing this idea was exceeded only by the dread of not knowing.

“Do you have one?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. I had a fraction of a second to bask in the reprieve before she continued. “But he deserves one. His parents know now. They have for a while, but he kept that from me. They are good people. Truly. But they are also trapped in a set of expectations that is very difficult for them to shake off. Apparently it’s been a bit of a battle.”

I waited for a follow-up, or a question, but she stopped there.

“I don’t know what to say.”

She looked at me with steel eyes.

“Good. I don’t want you to say anything. This can’t be about you.”

“I know,” I said. “Whatever you had before you met me, you still have. I don’t even know if I can stay in this time. I certainly can’t offer you anything compared to the life he can give you. Whatever you decide, I will understand.”

She stared at me blankly.

“What part of ‘I don’t want you to say anything’ got past you?”

“Ha. Sorry.” I let the silence hang between us for a bit. Then I said something stupid. “He loves you, you know.”

She gave me a look I read as equal parts bewildered and impatient.

“How do you know that?”

“How can he not?” was all I said.

The impatience drained from her face, and the bewilderment swelled. Then she took my face in her hands, and kissed me. As surprised as I was by the fact of it, the sensation surprised me more. It was not hungry, or passionate, or awkward, or confused. In her frame of mind, any of those would have made sense. Instead, it was tender. A simple, soft statement of fact. She looked down as she pulled away.

“Helen…”

“Don’t,” she said flatly. “I need time.”

With that, she stood and left me sitting alone in a room full of wondrously beautiful rock, a handful of gawking schoolchildren, and my doubts.

e had come to the museum in Helen’s car. I waited half an hour for her to return to the mineral room, and then I went to the coat check to see if her jacket was still there. It was not. As I stood there trying to decide whether to find my way home or just stay there, a voice behind me asked, “Is this a bad time?”

I turned to find Athena, who had doubtless just materialized in a crowded room to no one’s observation. For the first time in a while, I noticed she was getting older. When she first started visiting me in this time frame, she was a few years younger than I. By this point, she looked like she might have caught up to me.

“For you?” I said. “Never. Bad in general? Probably.”

“Girl problems?”

I growled. “Please don’t make fun.”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not. I actually came here to talk about that. In a supportive way, if that’s okay.”

“Quite okay,” I said. “At this point I’ll take whatever support I can get.”

“Come on,” she said, leading me away from the coat check. We meandered through the museum, with no particular destination. “What did she say?”

“You’re going to have to be way more specific,” I said.

“When you offered to make her a time traveler?”

“Oh!” I said. “Wow. That was like three plans ago. I almost forgot that was even a thing. I never got around to it. It turned out she was kind of semi-engaged, so the time travel thing became a little moot.”

Athena showed no particular reaction to this news.

“You seem to be taking it well.”

“No I don’t.”

“No,” she agreed. “You don’t. That was just my attempt at being supportive.”

“She wants to meet you.”

This did get a reaction. She stopped walking, and pretended to look at a diorama about South American wildlife. “Probably not a good idea,” she said after a considerable pause.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because she is quite a bit more perceptive than you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Athena gave me no reply. “You know her. In the future,” I said cautiously. “Don’t you?”

She turned to face me.

“For crying out loud, Nigel. I’ve practically told you straight out at least three times that I know her. And thank you for making my point, by the way.” She went back to the diorama. “How much does she know about me?”

“Just that you exist,” I said, feeling a little sheepish. “She didn’t ask me anything about you, other than if she could meet you.”

“That does sound like her,” said Athena. “What else does she know?”

“Um…” I said.

Athena turned around and took both my hands.

“What else does she know?” she asked again, gently.

“Kind of everything,” I admitted. “She knows about time travel. She knows about the unhappenings. She knows I’m from her past. She figured out that I am the same person as Dr. Nigel Walden.” I thought for a second. “I think that might be it. I guess that’s enough, though.”

“I’d have to agree.” The remark was scolding. Her tone was not.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked.

She laughed at that. “Almost certainly, but not from me. I can’t fault you for being open with her. That’s more than I’ve been with you.”

“You’ve had your reasons,” I said, with no idea what they were.

“That doesn’t make it right. You deserve better.” The room flashed. We were back in the park. The warm spring sun on my face felt particularly comforting by contrast to the stinging February cold I was expecting to feel outside. I looked to down to see Athena let go of my hands.

Scanning for the stroller, I found it immediately. The young couple sat at the bench next to it. Maybe five seconds had elapsed since the last time Athena and I were here. This would be my fourth visit to this park, on this day. I wondered how many this made for Athena. “What happens on this day?” I asked.

She was watching them. The young woman stood and reached under the canopy of the stroller, perhaps adjusting a blanket, or a pacifier, or maybe just touching her child. “You wouldn’t think it to see them here,” she said, “but those are two of the wealthiest people in this city. There they are, having a normal day with their child, like anyone else. Not a care in the world. And no one here has a clue of the extraordinary level of power in their midst. A lucky mugger would be set for life to take just what they have on their persons right now, even ignoring the items that could be traced.”

I scrutinized them for any sign of what Athena was saying.

“Is this another thought experiment, like the plague dog?”

“Not this time.”

Still watching them, in their spectacular ordinariness, I asked, “Why don’t they have bodyguards or something?”

“Because,” she said, “to answer both of your questions, today is the day they let their guard down. Even with all the power they wield, all their wealth, all the influence their family holds over so many, for one day they forgot to stay safe. And if they take that baby home, after this day, they will never forget again. And their son will go on to use that wealth, and influence, and power, in ways that will devastate a world.” She took my hand again. “Those are Carlton’s parents.”

My stomach, my heart and my world turned inside out. Athena had never come right out and said it, but her implication had been clear. That baby represented a threat to the future, her present, to an extent she felt justified comparing him to Adolf Hitler. And she could end that threat any time she wanted to. All it would cost would be her humanity. That alone had been difficult for me to reconcile. Now I was suddenly faced with the horror that this was Helen’s lover we were talking about. And yes, I am not proud to admit that for the tiniest fraction of a second—maybe not even that tiny—I did allow myself to think of this as two birds with one stone. I would rationalize that unspoken thought in my mind for years to come, but it would always be the single most selfish moment in my life. Well… second most.

The park flashed. My eyes adjusted to the relatively dim light of the museum. I have no memory of what I was looking at, because all I could see was that stroller, an image I did not expect to leave me any time soon.

“Why did you show me that?” I asked. It came out barely a whisper. “Why did you tell me that?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe because I am weary of carrying it alone. I know it can’t possibly make any of what comes next easy for you, and for that I am truly sorry.” She hugged me then, and I held onto her like she was the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the floor. Which might have been true. “When do you want to introduce me to Helen?” she asked in my ear. Then she stepped back. “I mean, if you still do.”

I had no way of succinctly communicating to Athena that I did not hold her responsible for anything that just happened. If anything, all I felt was an abundance of sympathy for her. How I dealt with her information was my problem, not hers.