TIME & TIED: AWARENESS
ARC 1.3 - Of Her Impact
PART 13a: DOUBLETAKES 1
"So exactly how much of your jewellery was taken?"
The hotel manager listened with half an ear as the officer questioned Ms. Peabody. Perfect, this was just perfect. A theft, not only in this budding rural community, but at his new hotel! What more could possibly go wrong with his day?
As if in reply, a bright flash off to the side caught his attention. He turned to look across the lobby, whereby he saw two teenagers, a boy and a girl. They were standing somewhere he was sure no one had been moments ago. Moreover, they were dressed rather curiously... for instance, the girl was wearing pants, and a pink shirt that didn’t resemble anything trendy. Not now, not from back in the forties either. He rubbed his eyes in confusion, wondering if he was hallucinating.
"Officer," the manager heard Ms. Peabody call out. "Look there! That's the person who robbed me!" The manager watched as his guest pointed over towards the blonde teenager who had just arrived. "Arrest that girl!"
"Oh boy," responded the girl in question.
***
“Don't mind us, just passing through," Carrie offered, once she realized that everyone at the hotel check-in counter was staring her way.
"Arrest her. Now!" the woman reiterated.
"We really can't stay," Carrie insisted. She grabbed Frank and retreated hastily, up a couple steps and through the hotel entrance, located rather fortuitously behind them.
"What on earth...?" Frank said, obviously still attempting to get his bearings, even as Carrie pulled him outside.
"Very, very poor choice of time period, Frank," Carrie explained testily. "You'd better reactivate the machine and get us out of here, pronto!"
Frank blinked. "But our location is still geographically unknown," he protested. "One of the purposes behind using a penny from '55 was to check the spatial..."
"Frank," Carrie interjected, dragging her companion down the sidewalk, away from the hotel entrance. At least it was growing dark outside, which could help to obscure them. "Someone is inexplicably after my hide here! Time to make a quick exit."
"Carrie, I haven't even reset the machine’s month to..."
"Frank!" Carrie repeated, shaking him to emphasize her point. "We... go... NOW." Down the street, two men emerged from the hotel, one of them the law enforcement officer.
"We go now," Frank affirmed as he saw them. Carrie released him and he set the time machine down onto the sidewalk, fumbling for one of the present day coins in his pocket. There was a shout from down the street as they were spotted.
"Fra-ank..."
"Got it," Frank said, slipping the coin into the time machine. He grabbed the activation lever. "Pull on three. One..."
"Twothree," Carrie finished. She and Frank yanked down on the lever. Carrie braced herself for the sensation of the void sucking at her, followed by another time displacement. But nothing happened.
"Uh, again?" Frank said. They let the lever rise back up into position then pulled down on it once more. Still nothing.
Carrie exhaled between pursed lips. "Someone is going to pay dearly for this," she vowed.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
The law enforcement officer cleared his throat from behind them. "I think the two of you had better come back to the hotel to answer a few questions.”
***
Carrie saw the older woman’s eyes narrow when the police officer and hotel manager escorted her and Frank back into the lobby. "You should never have come back to me, dearie," the woman said smugly to Carrie. "That wasn't very smart."
"I don't know what you're talking about, I've never been here before," Carrie retorted.
"All right Ms. Peabody, let’s settle down now," the officer soothed. He turned to the teenagers. "Suppose you start by telling us exactly what you're doing here."
Frank exchanged a glance with Carrie. "Yeah, uh... well, our affairs are often in a state of flux," he began slowly.
"We just arrived in town," Carrie interrupted. "My... uncle is staying in the hotel. At least that's what we thought, but when you started shouting at us we wondered if maybe we hadn't received the wrong set of directions. So we went back out to try and get our bearings. I don't suppose either of you have ever heard of the Clayton Hotel?"
"This is the Clayton," affirmed the officer.
"It IS?" Carrie said, genuinely surprised. She took a moment to look more closely at her surroundings. They were still in town. That was unexpected.
"You're Mr. Clayton!" Frank realized, turning to the manager.
"Do I know either of you?" the manager wondered.
"Uh, no," Frank admitted. "It's just, well..."
"We thought my uncle might have mentioned us," Carrie interrupted again. "I'm Carrie, this is Frank."
"Never heard of you. Who is your uncle?" Mr. Clayton challenged.
"Euh, his name is... Marty McFly.” Carrie exchanged a brief glance with Frank. "He should have checked in here on November fourteenth."
"It's November twelfth," Mr. Clayton pointed out.
Carrie rolled her eyes – this time faking her reaction, as she’d seen the readout of the time machine and been well aware of that fact. "Really?" She slugged Frank in the arm. "You got those dates wrong AGAIN! Why do I even bother traveling anywhere with you?"
Frank grimaced. "Maybe because without me, you'd have no idea how to get where you wanted to go?"
"Hold it," the officer interrupted in a no-nonsense tone of voice. He turned to Carrie. "Regardless of the situation with your uncle, can you confirm your whereabouts as of about 4pm today?"
"Yes, I was... on a train, heading into town," Carrie stated.
Ms. Peabody sniffed, shooting a glare at Carrie. "Oh, ignore this girl's babbling. She obviously came back here to gloat after hiding my jewellery somewhere. Don't let the little wench get away with it!"
Carrie's eyes snapped back to the woman. "I'm sorry, WHAT did you just call me?!" Ms. Peabody took a step back in surprise.
"Ms. Peabody, please," the officer said sharply. "Right now all we have is your word against hers. Carrie... McFly, was it? Can you give me the name of someone able to verify your story?"
"Sure, call my father," Carrie asserted. “You can trust him. He’s a doctor. Phone 911-1999."
The officer turned to the manager. "I'd prefer to clear this situation up now, if I can. May I use your phone?" Mr. Clayton nodded and the officer proceeded back to the front desk.
"Okay, one down and the others are off their guard," Carrie whispered to Frank. "Get ready to run."
"What?!" Frank hissed back. "We can't just..."
"Hey, wait!" Carrie gasped, pointing behind everyone. "Guys, what the hell's that?" As the others turned, she grabbed Frank's arm and bolted back for the door.
***
Some time later, Carrie found herself blowing errant strands of hair back off her face. "Great, I lost my hairband during that mad dash," she sighed.
"Your hairband? You're worried about your hairband?!" Frank said dazedly. "Carrie... we're fugitives. You've turned us into fugitives from the law!"
“Please, Frank. Don't get so melodramatic," Carrie retorted. She peered around the trunk of the tree, verifying that their pursuers had either given up once they’d cut into the woods, or managed to go in the wrong direction. The darkness and shrubbery had definitely been helpful for concealment.
"We're not fugitives," Carrie continued, turning back. "We didn't do anything wrong. Obviously I'm not the person they're looking for. It’s 1955. I haven't even been born yet."
"That's not the point," Frank accused. "Besides, for all we know, some future you time traveled back to earlier today and ripped off that missing jewellery. Meaning you ARE the person they're looking for."
"Oh please," Carrie scoffed. "What possible motive could I have? Anyway, even then it's not me they're looking for. It's some future me."
Frank pressed a hand to his forehead. Carrie was going to get them both killed one day, wasn't she. "You know, for some reason I don't remember you being this spirited the last time the two of us time traveled together."
Carrie shrugged. "Two years ago for you, last week for me. Though I am finding all this easier to deal with, now that I have a better sense of what's going on," she admitted. “For that matter, I remember you being a lot better at improvisation."
"I work better within a framework," Frank grumbled. “Plus I never really got involved in theatre because I decided to research time travel instead.”
“Ah. That’s fair.” Carrie swept some hair back over her shoulders. "Speaking of such... what’s going on with the time machine? Why didn't it activate?”