Ghost of a Chance

Chapter 31

Teddi strained her eyes, willing them to adjust to the dim light of the stars and faint glow of the moon. Dominic leaned on the hood of her car, talking quietly to Darrin and Troy. Troy nodded every few seconds, while Darrin shook his head slowly back and forth, his choppy hair making parabolas in the air. Teddi crept toward the quarry edge, her sneakers silent in the dead, damp grass.

The quarry yawned in front of her, empty, black, and silent. Again, she smelled the faint, powdery gossamer of the shattered limestone, beneath the stronger aroma of leaf litter and decay. Ninety years before, a hundred years before, the scene had hummed and throbbed with life. Powerful men, many of them immigrants, had made their living there, drilling holes in solid rock with metal tools bigger than she was; then packing those holes full of explosives, blowing the charges, and gathering the fragments into rail cars. Much of the stone went to the small furnaces, fueling the dying iron industry. She closed her eyes, picturing the rows of company houses, the crushers, and hearing in her mind the babble of different tongues. Timothy would remember, she thought. She glanced back toward her car; she could barely make it out in the darkness, and if she listened intently, she could hear the whisper of the three men. It sounded like Troy was getting angry.

Teddi eased herself down on the grass, feeling the wetness soak into her jeans. Great. She pulled her jacket down a bit, and tried to sit on that, but the material simply would not stretch far enough. She re-positioned her legs and managed to keep herself off the wet ground. She whispered into the darkness, and waited. "Timothy."

A few anxious moments passed. She heard the men coming along the faint path; their treads were heavy, and she knew Dominic was walking in pain. Every few steps, she heard his sharp intake of breath. "Timothy," she tried again.

"Miss Reese."

"Teddi," she corrected without thinking. "Where's Jenny?"

Timothy's face formed itself a few feet from her own, his now-familiar features growing from the empty air as wisps of thought and half-remembered dreams gathered together to form his eyes, his mouth, and his lips. Teddi shook her head, thinking for an instant of the old Polaroid pictures her parents had taken when she was very young. They simply pointed the camera, snapped the picture, and then removed a packet as it whirred from the camera's body. After peeling the top paper from the picture, the image slowly formed itself, like magic. That entire process will be forgotten before long, she thought. She shook her head.

"Timothy. Thank goodness. Listen, Dominic's got a plan, but he said he needs you. Can you help him; help us all, to save Jenny?"

By the time she finished the question, Timothy sat beside her, listening without responding. Dominic's words, that Jenny would be joining Timothy, leaped back into Teddi's mind. She looked into Timothy's eyes and felt a chill creep over her, starting at her scalp and working its way down her back; and for a moment, she felt a fear that demanded she leap up, and run, run as fast as she could.

The night air was chill, and there would be frost on the ground in the morning. Timothy knew that, although it did not affect him. He studied the frightened face of the young woman in front of him. What does she see, he wondered, to look at me like that? He reached his hand toward hers, wanting to reassure her. She jerked her hand away as though he were approaching it with red-hot poker.

"Teddi, I don't know what's going through your mind, but I will do everything I can to save Jenny."

Teddi's hands flew to her mouth before dropping to her sides. "I sorry," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry. But Timothy, isn't it better for you if she's...if she's..."

Timothy interrupted her. "No. No. Teddi, I want to save Jenny, just as much as you do. I...I don't know what finally happens. That's why I walked in front of your camera in the first place. I don't want Jenny to die, and be what I am. I would never..."