After stopping at Starbucks to get a Pumpkin Spice Latte, bags of shirts and jeans surrounding them in the truck, Alexander and Caleb sat in silence as they drove up Silverton Road.
"Ever had Indian food?" Alexander asked, turning down the radio and squinting through the rain.
"A long time—" Caleb stopped. "Is it still a long time ago?"
Alexander glanced at him. "I have no idea. I find it's easier to think of your own timeline as distinct. For your brain, yes, it would be a long time ago. Literally... couldn't tell ya." He turned left into a parking lot with a thrift store and a Subway, movie rental store, and a few other restaurants. Across the street was a drive through Mexican food restaurant, and Caleb's stomach garbled expectantly. They parked, and Alexander led him into a restaurant. The scent of spices and roasting meat enveloped them like a hug. How long hadit been since he'd eaten? Caleb attempted to understand, but as Alexander had said: it was easier to let it go.
Caleb was lost in thought when suddenly Alexander was handing him a white bag full of contents smelling too good to be true. "We even have naan," Alexander said, showing Caleb another bag filled with steaming flatbread.
"How did you get it so fast?" Caleb asked.
Lifting up what Caleb had come to realize was a cell phone, Alexander just said, "I ordered ahead," and under his breath, "honestly, are you from the future or not?" He elbowed Caleb in the arm and led them back into the brisk afternoon air. The sun was already dipping to the horizon, even though it was only five in the afternoon.
As they climbed back into Bessie, Caleb nodded to the naan. "Can I have a piece?" he asked with a nod to the naan. "I'm starving."
Alexander laughed. "Go for it." He tossed Caleb a piece.
The light and airy bread blanketed Caleb's tongue with butter and garlic. Steam slid past his lips as he devoured the rest of the flatbread. Caleb groaned in delight.
Twenty minutes later the two were tearing through the lamb korma, basmati rice, and naan. They ate on the couch, and by the time they were done, Caleb needed to unbutton his pants. He was dull and exhausted in the way that comes after one has eaten far too much in a short amount of time. He patted his belly and let out a rumbling burp. "Thanks!" Caleb said after apologizing for the outburst.
"My pleasure," Alexander said. He hiccupped. "Oh!" he said, hopping up from the couch quicker than Caleb thought possible after engorging in so much food. Alexander ran into his own bedroom.
A few seconds later Alexander reappeared and a stack of novels tumbled to the floor behind him. In his hands, Alexander held a thin, hardback book, bound in a rusty maroon cloth. A shimmering, solitary circle lay on the book's cover. "This," Alexander said, handing it to Caleb, "is sort of our guide to the basics of being a Timewalker. Rhea wants you to read it, even if it is kind of dull."
Caleb's thumb slid against the scratchy cloth. He flipped to the first page. A History of the Rings.
Alexander frowned. "There will be a test on it, sadly."
"Gross." Caleb let the book drop.
"But it's open book."
"Then what's the point of making it a test, then?" Caleb lifted the book again and looked at the first line. He might be tired and stuffed full of delicious food, but he really did want to start reading this right away. He already had so many questions eating at him.
"I've never understood that either," his mentor said. "You can read it now or..." Alexander trailed off.
"If it's okay with you, I think I'm gonna head upstairs. I want to shower, and then I'll read the first couple pages." Caleb stood up and started packing the empty take-out containers into the plastic bags they'd come in.
"No, Caleb, you don't have to do that. It's fine." Alexander tried to take the bags away from Caleb, but he held firm.
"If I'm going to be living with you, I've got to clean up after myself. So I will."
Alexander dropped his hand and pointed toward the kitchen. "Garbage is out front on the left hand side."
Caleb nodded and went out front. Though it was only seven, a full moon hung in the sky, lighting the dark night. He found the garbage easily enough and dropped the trash in. In the silence of the night, Caleb stared into the sky. Stars shone through the speeding clouds. With a deep, contented exhale Caleb went back inside.
+++
Laying in his bed, showered and clothed in a pair of mesh shorts they'd picked up from the department store—"For exercise," had been the words of Alexander. "For sleep," had been the reply in Caleb's mind—Caleb opened the first page of the Timewalker book.
The Timewalker has existed for only a short amount of literal time—about fifty years—but has existed in every century now, collecting artifacts for the Museum. Originally crafted by Italian clockmaker Gregorio Fontana, the Timewalker's ring is the agent by which he or she passes through the Void. How Fontana invented the rings is unknown. The secret lies only with the James family. But this criteria, the family has gained its nickname of Temporal Royalty. This authority is rarely contested, as they themselves conscript Timewalkers.
Caleb blinked. Who wrote this? He thumbed to the front, but no author was mentioned. Caleb frowned. So Rhea James was—what—an actual Time Queen? Snorting, Caleb focused on the tiny print again.
Although it is unknown how the ability to use a ring to move through time occurred, many have called it an act of some sort of mysticism. The truth is not mystical; Fontana stated he came by the power of time manipulation through years and years of trial and error. They are a technological marvel, not a vessel for darkness as some have suggested. It is unimportant how the rings work, when it comes to their usage--
Says someone who doesn't know how they work, Caleb thought with a sniff.
--Many in our ranks have tried to duplicate the results Fontana achieved but have failed. The secret lies with him and the James family.
What is important, however, is the simplicity of the ring's usage. The Timewalker has the ability to move backward in time; he or she may only then return to the time from whence they originate. The running theory is simply that the rings take a person to a spot which exists already. The future does not exist in any literal sense for a person who has left a specific timeline. He or she can only return to the exact moment of departure, which will allow his or her future to be created. The only leeway to date is a twelve hour period. A Timewalker has a window of twelve hours to return to, rather than a specific moment. This is regulated by the Void.
A Timewalker also possesses the ability to decrease the rate at which time passes. This ability is available to the more skilled Timewalker, and is most often used to allow a Timewalker to complete multiple objectives finished in a shorter span of literal time.
As a result of bearing the ring, a Timewalker ages at nearly half the rate of most people. A Timewalker who is sixty-six years of age would really only appear to be thirty-three. The body's cells do not deteriorate as quickly, which allows for this phenomenon. Fontana described this theory as Tempo Corpo Cambiament (TCC). Time body change. While this is, by no means, a technical term, it seems to get at the general idea. While a non Timewalker generally lives 80-100 years, a Timewalker, through the act of TCC on the body, would live around 160-200 years. The Museum has no record of such an occurrence as of yet, but the science does not refute this statement.
Caleb's eyes drooped as he attempted to mull over what he'd just read, and part of Caleb wondered if he'd even understood it at all. He rubbed at his blurring vision, and when his eyelids were shut it became easier to just let them stay closed for a second longer, and then a second more until he wasn't "resting" his eyes anymore.
He didn't wake up until the next morning when Alexander popped his head into the room and said, "Wakey, wakey, time to exercise," in a horrible, sing-songy tone. Caleb's glasses were folded up on the bedside, and the light was off. He'd done neither of those things the night before.
"Exercise?" Caleb was still disoriented with sleep. He'd been dreaming of a teddy bear with fangs and claws chasing him through the James Estate. Caleb shivered, scratched his belly.
"Yeah, come on!" Alexander was dressed in a pair of exercise shorts and shirt, his shoes a mixture of bright greens and blues. "I'll be downstairs. Meet me in four minutes." He walked out of the room, and Caleb could hear Alexander's footsteps in the kitchen. A clock on the nightstand said it was 7 a.m. Caleb yawned and rolled out of bed. Walking across the hallway to the bathroom, he flipped on the light and tried to pat down his hair. The curls were tightly coiled from his shower the previous night, and tangles upon tangles that could only be removed by tenuous brushing.
"Two minutes!" Caleb jogged down the stairs, his hair an un-resolved issue.
"Whoa!" Alexander guffawed. "Put a hat on." His mentor walked to the closet near the front door and pulled out a blue baseball cap with a small, cartoonish whale on the front. He tossed it to Caleb who caught it and stuffed it on his head.
"Good?" Caleb asked.
"Where'd the monster go?" Alexander looked around like he didn't see Caleb.
He yawned. "Don't make me throw something at you."
Alexander opened the front door and said, "The first thing we're going to do is run." When Caleb groaned, his mentor clapped him on the shoulder. "What are you supposed to do if a giant legion of Hun warriors come chasing after you? Fall down and get stabbed?" They took off at a jog.
"Probably just Hop out of the situation," Caleb pointed out. Though the sky held a sparse smattering of clouds, the air was crisp and dry, cold as the blue above. He didn't enjoy it for very long. Because Alexander was taller, and faster, and far more fit than Caleb, he struggled to keep up, huffing and puffing until his tonsils itched and he tasted copper. He may have been thin, but that didn't mean Caleb was able to do this.
They slowed after a million years, and Alexander said, "Good, now run back to the house." They took off again, and Caleb was almost positive he was going to vomit by the time they got back. Dark spots danced across his field of blurring field of vision, and no matter how much air he took in, Caleb craved more. He wanted to walk, to lay down, to do something—anything—other than this torture.
Finally it was over.
Until Alexander said, "Timewalkers can't afford to be unhealthy. So every morning we'll be exercising. This was only a mile run. Soon we'll do three, four, even five." Caleb nearly asked for a shovel to dig a grave to save Alexander the trouble.
"Only a mile? Are you sure?" He took a heavy gulp of air and held it for a second, sure his face was redder than a tomato.
"Yep," Alexander replied. "It's not over either."
"What?" Caleb nearly shouted. He flopped over at the waist, elbows to his knees.
"Twenty-five push-ups."
Turns out there were worse things than running: trying to do push-ups while your heart beat out of your chest and sweat streamed down your face, clammy hands slip-sliding on the hardwood floor. Caleb eked out ten before collapsing to the ground. Muscles in his lower back screamed, and arms like par-cooked noodles, Caleb tried to do another.
"Keep going," Alexander's voice brought a stream of expletives to the forefront of Caleb's mind.
Finally,
Finally,
Caleb was done. Alexander nodded, stood up from the ground and offered Caleb a hand.
"I'm just going to lay here a sec," Caleb groaned. "I just need a moment."
"I'll make breakfast."
Caleb shot up from the cement and followed his mentor into the house. "What are we having?" He ripped off the hat and tossed it onto the counter, but, seeing the sweat stains, picked it up again. Salty drops slid down Caleb's forehead and into his eyes.
Alexander fried bacon in a little oven above the stove top. "A microwave," his mentor called it when Caleb asked. "Technology isn't thatdifferent between our times, is it?"
Caleb shrugged.
While eggs fried and bacon sizzled, Caleb read more in the codex on the history of the rings. The section culminated in a statement about Rhea James.
"What does it mean, that Rhea James is Queen of Time?" Caleb asked. He pointed the book toward his mentor, his thumb resting on the period. "I thought that was just a nickname."
Alexander didn't say anything for a while, though he glanced at the book. He plated the bacon and eggs before setting them in front of him but stayed quiet until he'd taken a few bites. Caleb's knees bounced as he waited.
At last, Alexander cleared his throat. "Thatis a very good question." He took another bite, chewed slowly. "In our world, she's our leader. In her mind, and many others, too. The government isn't a part of what we do. They don't know, although I'm not sure how or why."
Caleb let the book fall closed in front of him.
"When Gregorio Fontana created the rings, the Museum started. There were five founders but the James' were given authority. They were told the secrets, and she has all the authority to recruit or discharge ring bearers at will."
"So what makes her so special?' Caleb asked.
"Her family above the others? Or her?" Alexander asked. "She's the only known Timewalker who can Hop without a ring."
Caleb swallowed another bit of bacon, coughed as it threatened to lodge in his throat. "How's that work?"
"Two Timewalkers have a child together. There's so much we don't know about the rings, and yet we use them every day. She doesn't purposefully elevate herself above others, but because of laws she made—no Timewalkers can have a child together—it elevates her above the rest."
"Hmm..." Caleb said, clearing his plate. "Is that why you don't like her?"
Alexander flicked his eyes to look at Caleb over the cup of water he was drinking from. "No," he said. "What gave you the idea that I don't like her?"
"You just seemed different when she was around." Caleb took a sip of his own water cup, and attempted an aloof expression. "Did you two have some sort of relationship?"
Alexander choked. It took him a moment before he gained his composure, the redness of his cheeks fading back to normal. "Nothing like that," he said gruffly. Caleb got the impression Alexander found this idea somewhat repulsing.
Caleb let the book drop to the table. "Oh," he replied, unsure if he was allowed to ask further questions.
"Would you like more?" Alexander offered to take his plate, but Caleb had had his fill.
"No, thanks," he replied with a smile.
Alexander took his and Caleb's plate to the sink. He rinsed them and set them inside the dishwasher. "Are you ready to start training?" Alexander asked, turning around to face Caleb.