Outtakes Read online

Page 2

A Leap in Time

  by Cheryll (Gabby) Ganzel

  Rebecca stood in front of the narrow window and gazed longingly at the distant waves. She took a slow, deep breath, filling her lungs with salty air. A slight breeze lifted the curly blonde tendrils that had escaped her white cap. She imagined herself cradled by the cool water, losing sight of the dreary cottage as she was carried out by the gentle tide.

  With a heartfelt sigh, Rebecca turned from the window and crossed the few steps to the other side of the kitchen. Poppa said absolutely no strolls on the beach, no swimming, no reading, no anything until the ironing was finished. Mrs. Martin wouldn’t pay if the ironing wasn’t returned by this afternoon.

  Although it was July, the warmest time of the year, a fire burned white hot in the fireplace. A metal rack hung a few inches over the flames. Rebecca grabbed the flat iron off the metal rack and set it down on the board that laid across the back of two chairs. She pulled another pair of pants from the pile of laundry.

  What strange material, she thought. These can’t be Mr. Martin’s pants. They’re much too long. They must belong to their new boarder.

  Rebecca laid the pants on the board. Perspiration dripped down her face, stinging her eyes. She used the hem of her apron to wipe her face.

  She glided the flat iron back and forth across the pants. Ah, what I wouldn’t give to unlace these boots, run down to the shore, strip off these stupid petticoats and dive in, head first!

  A seagull’s cry yanked Rebecca from her reverie. The flat iron halted its movement as it struggled across a hard lump in the pocket of the pants. Rebecca set the iron carefully on its side and reached into the pocket. She withdrew a round gold object about the size of a pocket watch but much flatter. It even had a small gold chain attached to it like a pocket watch, but on the other end of the chain was a miniature gold key.

  How curious, she thought. She ran her fingers over the beautiful markings engraved on the disk and then flipped the disk over in her hand. Both sides looked exactly the same. She turned the disk on its edge and examined the rim. About half way around, she found a tiny slot.

  Curiouser and curiouser. Rebecca giggled. Oooh! Maybe it’s a locket. She took the key and tried to insert it into the slot. It didn’t fit. She turned the key around and tried again. She felt it click as it settled into place. Holding the disk with the tips of her fingers, she turned the key. She heard another click as the disk sprang open.

  All the air felt as if it had been sucked out of the room, replaced by a brilliant white light. Rebecca gasped and blinked rapidly several times. As quickly as the blinding whiteness had come, it was gone. Rebecca wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. She wasn’t even in the cottage. She had no idea where she was.

  Rebecca stood in the middle of a street paved with black stone. She could still smell the saltiness in the air and hear the sound of the waves as they broke against the shore. On either side of the street were rows of buildings. Flags hung outside each storefront. She crossed the street and peered through the window of one of the shops.

  Rebecca entered Sally’s Corner and stood just inside the store. There was a woman sitting on a stool behind the counter reading a newspaper. Rebecca waited a moment, but the woman didn’t look up. Rebecca cleared her throat and took a few tentative steps toward her.

  “Well, don’t you look pretty,” Sally said and laughed, “that’s some costume you’ve got on, but the parade was yesterday. You’re a day late.”

  Rebecca felt her body tremble and stumbled her way to the counter, leaning on it for support.

  “Hey honey, are you okay?” Sally’s voice was full of concern now as she put the newspaper down on the counter.

  “You must be burning up. Don’t you know you could have a heat stroke walking around with all that on? Let me get you some water. I have some in the storeroom in the back.”

  As she disappeared into the storeroom, Rebecca looked down and saw the disk still open in her hand. She snapped it shut, leaving the key in the slot. A picture in the newspaper caught her eye. She set the disk on the counter and picked up the paper. There was a picture of a huge object in the middle of the street covered with flowers. Several women dressed much like Rebecca stood in the center of it. They appeared to be waving to the crowd that lined the street.

  Rebecca glanced at the top of the page. Vineyard Gazette, July 4, 1975. What? It’s not 1975, it’s 1875!

  Gunfire startled her. She dropped the paper and ran to the door. Sirens wailed. What on earth was that awful noise? A few people ran past the shop screaming. Good heavens, she thought, they’re naked – well, almost naked anyway.

  In the distance she heard someone shouting, “Get out of the water! Everybody, get out of the water!”

  “Sounds like the Sheriff’s gone and saw that shark again,” Sally said. “Don’t worry, probably just another false alarm. Here’s your water sweetie. Oh my! Look at this. Is this yours? It’s beautiful!”

  Rebecca turned and saw Sally holding the disk in her hand. “NO!” Rebecca cried out and rushed toward the counter. Rebecca’s fingers brushed Sally’s hand as the disk sprang open.

  All the air felt as if it had been sucked out of the room. Sally blinked rapidly in the blinding whiteness. Slowly her vision cleared…