If you’rereading this, it means I succeeded where Dad had failed, and I’llbe long gone. Maybe I’ll return one day, maybe I won’t. Only timewill tell.
All mylove,
Dianna
I left thenotebook open to my letter on the kitchen counter and ran upstairsto grab my old leather shoulder bag. I stuffed a few clean pairs ofunderwear inside, plus a Diva Cup, deodorant, and my toothbrush. Idescended the stairs two at a time and scuttled around the house,scooping up things I knew I’d need this time around and stuffingthem in the satchel.
A bag ofschillings from Mom’s collection, a large dagger, my prenatalvitamins, a lighter, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, my pain meds andantibiotics, and a full water canister. I would be the mostprepared time traveler who everexisted.
Then I wentback to the dining room and removed my clothes before slipping backinto the garments I’d brought here with me. My adopted red jacketfit like a glove and I noted the immaculate job Mary had done atmending the tear. My wounded shoulder protested as I lifted thesatchel and slipped my head through. The bag hung heavily at myside, but I tossed Mom’s journal in, along with some snacks andtightened the convenient drawstring before locking the giant metalclasp in place. I stopped for a moment to look around and took adeep breath.
Lastly, Iscooped up my ruby necklace and looped it over my head. “I’m cominghome, Henry.”
John would beback soon and my window of opportunity to get far enough out on thewater was closing by the second. I ran outside and down to thewater’s edge where our old motorboat was and shoved it into the water beforeclumsily hopping in. It took a few labored tries, but I yanked onthe pull start a fourth time and the motor roared to life.
“Yes!” Ishouted to the skies above. I hit the gas and maneuvered the tinyvessel out to the moon’s reflection on the waves, the pinkhighlight of the setting sun nearly gone. I worried that I was toolate but leaned over the side and dipped my hand in the coolwater.
“Please,” Ibegged the universe, “Take me back to Henry.” I waited a fewseconds and when nothing happened, I asked again. “I wish to betaken back to Henry, please!”
Stillnothing.
I released myhold on the boat’s edge and sat on the damp bottom, defeated,fighting back the wave of anger I felt building up. That was it. Mylast shot. And it didn’t even work. I felt like a fool and panickedas I thought of John discovering the letter I left behind. I wasabout to turn the boat around when something caught my eye, amovement in the practically stillwater just a few feet from the side of my tiny vessel.
I moved closerto the front where I could get a better look and scanned theocean’s surface. What light lingered from the sun had gone and allthat remained was moonlight and pure darkness, but I could see, inthe reflection of the moon, the hint of ripples fading out from thecenter of… something. I inched closer, straining my eyes tosee when something emerged fromthe water and splashed my face. I fell on my ass and scrambled backto my knees to see what it was, but the darkness shroudedeverything.
“Hello,” astrange sound voiced, eliciting a yelp from me. I still couldn’tactually see anything.
Or anyone.
“Hi,” Ireplied, “w-who’s there?” The boat rocked and tilted to the side asI braced the edges of the wooden bench seat. Then, as the boatdrifted further into a ray of moonlight, a figure manifested fromthe water. No, the shape… itmanifested of water. I screamedand backed away.
“You summon myhelp and then scream in my presence?” the water-being stated. Only,it’s voice, it didn’t quite comefrom the shape. The echoing sound seemed to come from the water allaround as if the ocean itself hadspoken to me. But I continued to stare, digesting what my eyes wereseeing. It mimicked a human form but was made entirely of water. Icould see the lapping waves and the pale moonlight behindit as if peering through a windowon a rainy night.
“I’m sorry,” Itold it, mouth gaping, “you just startled me. I’ve never seenanything like you before.”
The thingpushed itself up and leaned further into my boat. “I’m a siren ofthe ocean,” it said. “If you do not know what I am, then how didyou know to summon me?”
I thought fora moment. Mom must have recalled the fable from her own childhoodmemories. In her journal, she’d mentioned being raised by Martha,the Celtic witch. Who knew the plethora of magical knowledge shesubconsciously harbored in thatbrain of hers? “My mother,” I replied, “she knew a little aboutmagic. She told me about the wish when I was a child.”
“Be that as itmay,” the siren spoke with a warning, “what you seek goes against the laws of time.You cannot go back unless you are from the past.”
“But I’ve doneit before,” I replied desperately.
The creatureappeared surprised as it accepted my words. “Curious.”
“What’scurious?”
“I’ve roamedthe seas for millennia, and I’ve only known one thing to overpowerthe laws of time,” the siren told me, and its face appeared tomorph with the shape of a grin as it cocked its head to theside.
My patiencegrew thin and I worried someone would spot me out on the water.
“And? What wasit?”
The creaturepushed even further into my little boat and brought its face closeto mine. I could smell the saltwater and feel the cool sea breezethat flowed around its shape. “Fate.” It drew back again, the shapeof a smile still molded into its face. “It appears someone’s heartcalls to you from the past, dearie.”
Before I couldreply, the creature lunged backward and leaped into the sea with aheavy splash, soaking me and covering the bottom of the boat withwater. As I wiped the wetness from my face, I peered out to whereit had disappeared and spotted a tiny swirling movement on thesurface. It grew larger, faster, and before I could prepare myself,the tiny swirl had morphed into a massive whirlpool. The mouthopened even further, and the moving force sucked my boat into arotation around the perimeter as
