Chapter 7

I like how Cassie comes across here. I started the book thinking she was going to be a more shallow or immature character, but she didn't come out that way. She's intended to be the character in the book that's the most grounded in reality.

E4, Chapter 7

Mark anxiously waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line and almost dropped the pay phone receiver when they did.

“Hey? Hello?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. “Mark?”

“Is Samantha there, Mrs. Cohen?” Mark rushed out.

“No,” said Mrs. Cohen, sounding confused. “She’ll be in Cancun until tomorrow. Didn’t I tell you that yesterday, Mark?” She laughed awkwardly.

“Uh, you might have,” replied Mark. “I’ve got my days a little mixed up. I just needed to talk to her. Sorry, I’ll call back.” Mrs. Cohen said goodbye and Mark set down the phone hard.

“Damn,” he hissed, “I’m running out of time.” Then he looked at his watch and laughed at the irony of that statement.

Cassie Brighton closed the Pelican Diner’s front door and pulled her thin, leather jacket tighter around her. For a summer night, it was breezier than normal.

She walked down the stairs and began heading towards the street, for her apartment was a ten-minute walk away and she really wanted to get home and collapse into bed. Thankfully, yet another long shift was over.

“Hey,” said a voice from behind her.

Cassie slowly turned around, holding tightly to her purse. Marcus Vox was sitting on a bench, his arms hung behind it. Under the low light from the parking lot, his eyes were in shadow and his cheekbones stood out. Underneath was a crooked smile. His normally tanned skin looked pale. Behind Mark, the Pelican Diner’s aluminum exterior had taken on an eerie purple glow from the fluorescent lighting along the establishment’s windows.

Cassie hugged her arms against her. “Were you waiting for me?”

Mark shrugged. “Kind of.” He sat forward and his face looked nicer in fuller light. “But not exactly,” he added.

Cassie thought about leaving, but he made her curious just like earlier in the day. “I thought you got arrested,” she blurted.

Mark shook his head. “The Detective is playing a weird game. He didn’t arrest me. I told you I didn’t do anything.” He sounded somewhat reassuring, but this was the same guy who earlier had told her he was stuck three years in the past. Even if he did leave a 380 percent tip, his behavior was questionable.

Cassie reached into her purse and pulled out the baseball card he had been about to show her before the detective showed up. “You left this.”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Did you take a good look?”

Cassie frowned. Did he really expect her to have been bedazzled by it? “Yeah,” she said. “Whoever made this did a good job. You went through a lot of trouble to make people believe that story of yours.”

Mark sighed. “I didn’t go through any trouble. It is what it is.” He sat back again and looked away. “It’s all right. I didn’t expect you to believe it. I don’t even know why I told you.”

Cassie felt bad and stepped closer. “Maybe it just seems real to you. Is it possible you’re just interpreting things wrong?”

Mark sneered at her. “I’m not one of your patients, Doctor.” He swung himself fully onto the bench and crossed his legs on one of the armrests. “And the main reason I came back here is because I don’t have a place to go. This bench isn’t half bad to sleep on.”

Cassie looked at him sadly. “You don’t have a place to stay? Do you live near here?”

“Yes, but I can’t go there,” he explained, putting his biceps behind his head.

“Why?”

Mark laughed and glanced at her. “Oh, it only involves another story you wouldn’t believe.” He gave her that enticing gaze again.

Cassie shrugged. Okay, she wanted to know. God help her. “Try me.” She was getting this strong vibe from him, like there might be some truth to what he said, or at least that he believed it.

Mark sat up and rose to his feet. It was hard to see under the available light, but he was pale and faintly sweating like he had the flu. Cassie tried to get a closer look but he stepped back into the shadows slightly when she moved forward.

“Okay,” he said, “I thought about going to my parents’ house. Three years ago, though, or today rather, I was living at home before me senior year of college started. If I were to go home now, I’d run into...uh, myself.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding?”

Mark threw up his arms. “Yeah, see, I know you’d think it was nuts.” He paused and rubbed his neck, regarding her with a glimmering smile. “But I’ll prove it to you if you want.”

Cassie raised a hand, because she didn’t think going off with him to his house to look for himself was something she could convince herself to do. “Mark, I’ve got to be heading home.” She just didn’t know what else to say.

Mark shrugged and sat back down. “Hey, whatever.”

Cassie paused and looked at the sidewalk. Patrons came in and told her all kinds of things. The guys often flirted, even the girls sometimes. But this guy, he was cute in a spazzy sort of way that she liked, well, would like if she wasn’t in a relationship. And he was nice and talking with him felt like talking to a friend or a classmate. But...baseball cards from the future? “How do you respond to a story like that, Mark?” she asked without looking up. “Stuff like time travel just doesn’t happen.”

“I didn’t think so either,” Mark admitted. “But there’s a purpose, you see. I’m here in the past and I’ve been given a chance to fix things. Miracles happen, don’t they?” He sounded winded and was trailing off.

Cassie looked at him with concern. The story, likely delusion that it was, was getting deeper and she could see that he was sweating, the white part of his shirt clinging to his defined chest and his red sleeves sagging off his arms. “Are you feeling okay?’’ she asked. “You look like you’re coming down with something.”

Mark brushed it off. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I have to be.” He braced himself against the bench. “But it is getting time...Maybe you should head home? It’s getting late. I’d offer you a ride, but...”

Cassie almost asked him if he needed somewhere to stay, but logic stepped in. It wouldn’t look good to have another guy staying there and she just didn’t need the argument. And he didn’t seem threatening, but would bringing him home even be safe? “Okay,” she simply said. “Goodnight, Mark. Hey, I’ll see you around.” Mark waved at her and Cassie turned away to walk home. She felt guilty leaving him there. Not only did he look sick but it really did seem he was giving her what he felt was the truth. She was drawn to the honesty.

Behind her, Mark mumbled, “...like my body being pulled softly through my pores...”

Cassie spun around to see what he meant, but Mark was gone.