Valley of the Moon. Melanie Gideon

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СКАЧАТЬ We all needed some time to grapple with this news.

      “I know you want answers. You want to know what’s happening. What does this mean? Her arrival.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t think it means anything.”

      This was a lie. Her arrival changed everything and we all knew it, but because we didn’t know what it really meant for us, everybody agreed to let this lie stand for now.

      “Not for us, anyway. For us life goes on as it has for the past four months. Nothing has changed. We will get up in the morning and meet with our crews and put in a good day’s work, and then we will sleep, knowing we’ve earned our rest. And the next day we will wake up and do it all over again.”

      “Is she staying?” Matteo asked.

      I looked down at Lux.

      “I’d like to stay a few days, if you’ll let me,” she said quietly, so only I could hear.

      I fought to keep a neutral expression on my face, as if it didn’t matter to me whether she stayed or left.

      “For a while,” I confirmed. “Treat her like one of us.”

      “Yes, please,” said Lux. She got to her feet. “I don’t want any special treatment.”

      Oh, but she was special; this was clear the moment she stood. Even if she wasn’t from the future, she could travel freely through the fog and we could not. She blinked once, twice, and took her seat.

      I sat on the porch in the dark. I couldn’t sleep; I’d been sitting there for hours. I heard Lux before I saw her. The sound of her bare feet creeping down the stairs. The squeak of the door opening. She padded to the railing in a muslin nightgown (Fancy must have lent it to her), put her hands on the railing, arched her back, and sighed.

      I cleared my throat, announcing myself, and she jumped.

      “You could have told me you were there,” she said.

      “My apologies,” I said.

      My eyes had acclimated to the night long ago, so I took the opportunity to survey her unseen. I estimated her age as somewhere in her twenties. Her face was without wrinkles, her complexion fair but tanned by the sun. Her brown, shoulder-length hair had fallen out of its braid. She impatiently pushed her fringe to the side, exposing dark straight brows. She had a small but sturdy frame and was of medium height. I could smell Martha’s soap on her skin; it was unnerving.

      “Can I have one of those?” she asked.

      I gave her one of my precious cigarettes. She leaned forward and I lit it with a match. She inhaled deeply, held the smoke in her lungs and blew it out.

      “Do you still think I’m mad?” she asked.

      “I’m on the fence.”

      “Well, how do we get you off the fence?”

      “Do you have any identification?”

      “Not on me.” She thought for a moment. “Everything’s at the campsite.”

      “You could answer a few questions,” I said.

      “Okay. Shoot.”

      “Who’s the president of the United States?”

      “Gerald Ford,” she said without hesitation.

      “What number president is he?”

      “Thirty-eight.”

      “Who’s the prime minister of England?”

      “I have no idea. But I can tell you that in 1914, England, along with France, Russia, and Japan, will declare war on Germany. America will try and stay neutral, but finally in 1917 we’ll join the fight and help win the war, but at a terrible cost. Something like seventeen million people will die. Trench warfare. Gas. U-boats.” She shuddered. “World War I.”

      “World War I?”

      She looked at me calmly.

      “That implies there’s a World War II.”

      “From 1939 to 1945,” she said. “Something like seventy-five million casualties.”

      “Dear God. World War III?”

      “Not yet. But America just wrapped up a war with Vietnam.” She took another puff of her cigarette. “Oh, yeah, and a man walked on the moon.”

      I grunted with skepticism.

      She grinned. “I’m not pulling your leg. Neil Armstrong in 1969. Do you want to hear more? I could tell you about the Depression, about Prohibition, about the civil rights movement, about Martin Luther King, about Roe v. Wade. Abortion is legal now, by the way.”

      I held up my hand. “That’s quite enough, thank you. A few minutes of quiet, if you don’t mind.”

      “Of course. You’ll want to take that all in,” she said a little smugly, pleased to have put on such a convincing show.

      The crickets chirped. A moth batted its wings futilely against a closed window. My mind reeled.

      “Don’t you want to ask me any questions?”

      “My questions were answered today when you took me on the tour,” she said.

      “Are you saying you believe me?”

      “No. Yes. I mean kind of. What else can I do? At some point you just have to sort of commit, right?”

      “Commit to what?”

      “This. Us. What’s happening. That I’m here. That you’re here. That this can’t be, and yet it is. It’s beyond the laws of nature, but until some other evidence surfaces to disprove you, I’m going to go along with all this, and maybe you’ll go along with it, too. What other choice do we have?” She shrugged.

      She’d just expressed the same conclusion I’d been coming to. Continuing to mistrust each other seemed like a waste of energy, at least for now.

      “Do you think we did something? To bring this on?” I asked.

      “Like what? What could you have possibly done?”

      She was right. We had done nothing but work hard to be self-sufficient and treat each other fairly and equitably.

      “You were happy?” she asked.

      “We were happy.”

      Clarification: most of us had been happy. The O’Learys hadn’t been happy. Paddy’s last words? “If we stay any longer, we’ll never leave.” How right he had turned out to be.

      “So. That’s not a crime. That’s what everybody wants.” She took another deep pull on the cigarette. “I have a joint back in my tent. I wish I’d brought it.”

      “A СКАЧАТЬ