The next day a warm front drifted across the Pacific Northwest. It felt like summer again as temperatures spiked into the high sixties. Lewis laid his blue hoodie to rest, keeping his gray t-shirt as his only layer. Mr. Mays offered to wash Lewis’s clothes during his own laundry run, so Lewis stripped down and utilized the time to take a much needed shower.

Josie brought him a fresh towel before he began. She lingered a little too long in the doorway upon seeing Lewis’s shirtless body. Mr. Mays grunted his disapproval. Josie’s cheeks lit up with an embarrassed blush as she quickly shut the door between herself and Lewis.

He felt his own face grow hot as butterflies danced in his stomach. He wasn’t used to the kind of attention Josie was paying him. Not being particularly muscular, he had never considered that a girl might enjoy looking at him in a sexual way. His unfamiliarity with the situation manifested itself as bashfulness. He wrapped the towel tightly around his middle before opening the door again to deliver the rest of his clothing to Mr. Mays. He was greeted with a scowl.

The following weeks went by slowly. With no journal to guide him, he didn’t have much to do during the time Prime was in the hospital. Josie cut class to hang out with him on most days—a much welcome development. Mr. Mays called in sick for her to the high school on each day she stayed home, no questions asked. Lewis still wasn’t exactly sure how much of their situation Josie’s grandfather understood. He allowed Lewis to stay over at their house during the day, but insisted he spent his nights alone at the creepy house.

Lewis’s feelings for Josie only grew stronger the more time they spent together. He loved so many things about her, from the way she laughed—a jovial giggle that always escaped suddenly from deep down in her belly, sometimes at the most inappropriate of times—to the way she cared about every animal she came across as if they were her equal. She cared deeply and honestly, always wearing her heart on her sleeve, unafraid to show her tidal waves of emotion.

Lewis was used to keeping everything pent up inside, but Josie’s thirst for life was infectious. She was chipping away at his armor, slowly but surely.

Although he was enjoying his time with her, he began counting down the days until he could integrate back into his old life. He missed his family dearly, and didn’t particularly enjoy sleeping on the floor of an abandoned house. He was nearing the end of his wait. At this point there was only three more days before Prime would disappear into the Beyond and he could take his place back at home.

The next afternoon, with his body draped over the wooden swing in Josie’s front yard, Lewis mindlessly swayed back and forth. Josie dragged a lawn chair around from the back of the house and joined him in his daze. The continued heat relieved some of Lewis’s anxiety—it suggested the Agares were no longer present at this time in the mortal realm. It also made sleeping easier in the unheated, abandoned house.

Josie sipped on some lemonade as she flipped through the pages of a poetry book, Passenger Poet. The spine was broken in and the pages tattered from multiple read-throughs. Josie remained engrossed in the pages until it was nearly time for dinner. After all the insanity of the first days of school, it was nice to be able to relax a little bit.

Lewis, curious as to what drew Josie so intensely to the poems, sat beside her for some time, reading over her shoulder.

Vagabond

It is not your fault my dear

Distance calls to you with such urgent alarm bells

Let your hands touch softly your keys and

Contemplation

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Let your eyes fix a little harder on the skyline

Unravel the tension from the string

You have spun for yourself

You do not owe your past a trail of breadcrumbs

Feel the weight of all that is behind you

Allow that force to carry you forward

Wandering Heart

Perhaps

The relief of such motion

Came to her not in surprise

But rather softly

As warm tea on the porch in the summer

As a cat at the foot of the bed

As rain on the top of the tin roof

Josie, for all her trauma, seemed more at peace with the reality of her life when she poured herself across those words. Lewis could still see the struggle inside of her, but between the poems and the support of her grandfather, she was already several steps back from the ledge she had been nearing on the night they deposited the journal into the time pocket. Mr. Mays loved her dearly, and it showed in the tender way he treated her; tight hugs that lingered through the sorrow. Their deep bond was the most tangible gain to come out of the sacrifice she had made.

After dinner, Lewis headed back to the creepy house. He only needed to spend two more nights there before Prime’s departure to the Beyond. He was running low on supplies, though, so the next day Josie went with him to the grocery store and purchased a couple jugs of water and some pre-made sandwiches to help sustain him through to the end. When they got back she passed the bag up through the broken window and then climbed in behind Lewis. They hadn’t been inside more than five minutes when a knock at the front door hushed their chatter.

Lewis crept over to the master bedroom window and peeked out. He couldn’t quite see who was at the door, but there were no cars parked outside. They both remained silent, waiting for whoever it was to give up and walk away.

“I know you’re in there!” came a yell from the front porch. “Come on, let me in! I saw your bikes around the side.”

Josie leaned past Lewis and opened the bedroom window to get a better look. Stepping back down from the porch, Landon’s head appeared out from behind the eve, looking up at them.

Upon seeing their incredulous stares Landon lifted the leather-bound journal up over his head with his left arm. “I come in peace,” he said. His right arm was still in a sling.

Lewis and Josie looked at each other, and then back down at Landon.

“I won’t bite,” pleaded Landon.

“The front is boarded up,” said Lewis, still wary. “You can use the broken window by our bikes.”

They waited in the bedroom for Landon to climb in and make his way up. When the bully reached the top of the stairs he read the prickly atmosphere of the room and smartly didn’t approach either of them.

“Here you go,” he said, holding up the journal for Lewis to take. “I found this when I was nine.”

Lewis approached Landon as if he were a wild animal. He snatched the journal out of his hand and backed away again immediately. Landon put his hand up, unfazed by Lewis’s cautious approach. Lewis flipped through the pages, confirming that it was in fact the same journal they’d placed into the time pocket days before.

“I’m really sorry that I had to beat you up,” said Landon. “And for being an ass all these years. I was just following your instructions.”

Josie scrunched up her face.

Lewis wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, I guess I’m sorry I had to hit you with a truck, then,” he said.

“I knew it was coming.”

Josie’s eyes were wide, looking back and forth between the two boys.

“It says we are supposed to read the next entry together,” said Landon.

Lewis nodded slowly. He gestured for Landon to follow him to the sleeping bag. They both sat down cross-legged. Josie crouched down behind them as Landon helped direct Lewis to the correct page—about three quarters of the way through. The vast majority of the journal was dedicated to directing Landon’s life.

“Entry #112: Landon and Lewis, what a journey we have all had…. I have a confession to make. I am not the first Lewis to pass instructions down to change the timeline. I have been working from a journal of my own which had numerous corrections in it already. I have no idea how many Lewis’s came before. Maybe this cycle is infinite…. Anyway, I saw that after so many attempts every Lewis always failed. Finally, with me, every possible scenario had already been tweaked and manipulated. There was nothing left to do different that hadn’t already been tried—no way to win with the current deck of cards, so I set out to get a new deck. I had Gray help me drastically change the timeline and left the journal for Landon when he was 9 years old. Landon is my best friend, though if he does everything I set out for him he certainly won’t be yours. I feel terrible about this, but it was the best way to turn everything on its head and give us a new set of possibilities to work with. In my timeline, Landon actually helped me write this journal. Despite your years of being at odds with each other, Lewis, you must know that it was all my manipulation that caused this. You must forgive his bullying. You two actually work very well together. If you’ve done everything you were supposed to do, Landon, then I only have one more request of you. Be Lewis’s friend again. There are difficult trials ahead and he will need you by his side the way you were by mine, the way you were always meant to be, if we are to have any hope of saving the universe.”