Karen D. Badger - Yesterday Once More Page 8

  Anyway, Jess wouldn’t take no for an answer. She got pretty rough and pinned me against the fireplace, and then she tore my shirt open. Before I knew what was happening, she’d wrestled me to the floor and started groping me. I thought she was going to rape me right there and then, but all of a sudden, she got a really bad cramp in her calf muscle and let go of me.”

  Jordan said excitedly, “That cramp! That was me digging my nails into her calf.”

  “Jordan,” Kale said carefully, “listen to yourself. This happened almost one hundred years ago. You couldn’t have been there to influence the attack. I’m ready to admit there is something odd going on here, but we need to be realistic about this.”

  “I was there. I know I was. Look, I can’t explain it.” A silence descended over them as they lay side by side on their backs looking at the ceiling. Their reverie was broken by Jordan’s body shaking as she sobbed.

  Kale tossed the diary onto the nightstand and took her into his arms. “Please don’t cry.”

  Jordan burrowed her face into Kale’s shoulder. She gasped for breath. “I feel so helpless. She died so young. Why? Why did she have to die? She was my age, Kale. She had so much life yet to live. My heart is breaking for her. It’s just not right.” Jordan’s shoulders shook violently as Kale held her close.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”

  Several long minutes later, Jordan relaxed in his arms. He loosened his grip on her. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

  Jordan took a deep breath and nodded. A shudder ran through her body. “What’s wrong with me? I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “You’re not losing your mind, Jordan. You just have the softest heart of anyone I know.”

  Jordan started to cry again. “I swore I would never let myself feel like this again. After Susan left me, I vowed never to open my heart again.”

  “Talk to me about Susan.”

  Jordan wiped the tears from her eyes. “There’s not much to tell that you don’t already know. She was a nurse at the physical therapy office.”

  “I have to be honest with you. I didn’t like her very much. I watched her pretty much run your life for two years. I guess I don’t know what you saw in her.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as all that. In the beginning, she made me feel special. I’m disabled—my dating opportunities are pretty limited. There aren’t many women out there interested in a relationship with me. Susan was different. Who’d have thought she liked me being dependent on her? As you know, she split after the first implant was successful. She broke my heart. I loved her, I needed her, and she deserted me. So I decided to never open myself up to that kind of hurt again.”

  “Never say never, Jord. There’s someone out there for you, someone who will treat you with the love and respect you deserve.”

  “I don’t know. Look at me. I’m infatuated with a ghost.”

  “Come here, you,” Kale said.

  Jordan snuggled into his shoulder. Kale pulled the blanket over them both and kissed Jordan on the temple. “Go to sleep, Jordan.”

  Within moments, they were both snoring softly.

  * * *

  The research team was waiting when Kale and Jordan arrived at the lab in the morning. The department head had scheduled a briefing in the conference room to update Jordan on the status of the new implant. As they entered the room, the other members of the team stood and cheered. Peter Michaels walked to the front of the room and shushed the group. He smiled at Jordan. “Dr. Lewis, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we’re glad to have you back.”

  Applause broke out again. Peter waited patiently until the room was quiet. “As I was saying, welcome back, Jordan. In your absence, we’ve been working hard to perfect the new implant. I think we’re less than a month away from testing it on a human subject.”

  “That would be me,” Jordan said firmly.

  Kale chuckled. “Tell her yes, guys. Take it from me—you don’t want to make her mad.”

  The team members laughed, and Peter assured Jordan that she was indeed the test subject. “All right,” he said, “let’s get down to business. Jordan and I have briefly reviewed the new implant’s function. Now it’s time to iron out the details. Lights, please.”

  For the next two hours, the research team talked about the status of the new implant and worked out a detailed roadmap for developing the self-powered energy unit. At the end of the meeting, each team member had been assigned a task and a strict schedule.

  Peter closed the proceedings. “Okay, party over, folks. Let’s get back to work. You too, Jordan.”

  Jordan grinned, happy to be working with the team once more.

  Jordan spent the rest of the morning running tests on the prototype implant in a lab monkey. Around mid-afternoon, Peter stuck his head in the lab. “Jordan, do you have a moment?”

  Jordan smiled at her mentor. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I’d like to talk to you in my office.”

  Jordan frowned. “Okay, but I feel like I’m being called to the principal’s office. Are you giving me detention?”

  Peter’s smile looked forced. “Now, Lewis,” he said with mock sternness.

  Peter closed the door to his office and sat down. There was an open folder on his desk. He picked it up and pulled out a piece of paper. “Your test results came back this morning. Your thoracic series looks very good, but your white blood cell count is elevated. As you know, that generally indicates an infection.”

  “An infection? But I feel fine. What do you think might be causing it?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to find the cause and treat it before it gets out of control. None of us can afford for you to be ill right now.”

  “Okay. What would you like me to do?”

  “I need you to go to the hospital for a complete workup.”

  “When?”

  “Now. It’s all set up. I’ll be going with you to supervise the examination.”

  Peter watched as the medical staff performed a thorough examination of Jordan. All cardio, respiratory, and digestive systems tests were negative. Despite her high white cell count, Jordan was healthy.

  Peter crossed his arms in front of his chest. The test results made no sense unless... he had a thought. “The implant site—I wonder if that’s inflamed? That might be causing the high white cell count.”

  Peter watched carefully as his team inspected the site. “There it is,” he exclaimed.

  Jordan strained to see what Peter had found. “What is it?”

  “I think it’s the beginnings of a pressure ulcer. The area is red and warm.”

  “A pressure ulcer?

  “Yes. Too much time in the hover-chair, or it could have been caused by you sliding yourself in and out. I’m sure you’re well aware how dangerous this type of wound is.”

  “It’s not like I’m a rookie at this hover-chair thing. Yes, I’m aware of the dangers of a decubitus ulcer. After two years on my feet, I forgot to protect myself. Is it infected?”

  “It hasn’t broken the skin yet, but it’s red and warm.” Peter stripped off his rubber gloves and reached for his phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Jordan asked.

  “I’m going to admit you for a few days.”

  “What? Aren’t you overreacting? It’s an infection. I don’t need hospitalization.”

  “It’s a pressure sore. Left untreated, it could develop into sepsis.” Peter reached for Jordan’s hand. “Look, Jordan. Your paralysis makes this a special case. This ulcer could be life threatening without proper treatment. If the implant schedule weren’t on the line, I might agree to treat this on an outpatient basis, but if this infection doesn’t respond to antibiotics, it could put the entire project in jeopardy. If we can get this cleared up quickly, I’ll see if we can move the electrode placement surgery up a week and do it while you’re in the hospital. Okay?”

  “It sounds like I don’t have a choice,” Jo
rdan said.

  “Not if we plan to stay on schedule with the implant,” Peter replied.

  Jordan sighed in resignation. “You’re the boss.”

  Chapter 9

  Kale poked his head into Peter’s office. He wasn’t there. As Kale turned to leave, Peter rounded the corner at the far end of the hall. “Kale, I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.” Peter pushed open his office door and urged Kale inside.

  “Do you know where Jordan is? I’ve been looking for her everywhere. The guys in the lab said they haven’t seen her since just after lunch.”

  “Have a seat. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Jordan is in the hospital.”

  Kale was instantly on his feet. “What?”

  “We found the beginnings of a pressure sore at the base of her spine. We would never have looked except that her white cell count was elevated.”

  “So it’s the beginnings of an ulcer?”

  “Yes. It hasn’t broken through the skin yet, but I thought it was best to hospitalize her for a few days. We’ll administer an aggressive regime of antibiotics before it develops into something serious.”

  Kale shook his head. “Will it never end with her? Damn.”

  Peter grinned. “She is quite a handful, isn’t she? If it makes you feel any better, I admitted her as a precaution. I see no reason why the infection won’t react well to the antibiotics. She’ll be fine in a few days. Feel free to visit her any time, she has no restrictions.”

  Kale sat back in his chair. “Peter, we promised she could be the test subject for the implant. We can’t take that away from her now. Regardless of how long it takes, we have to wait for her to recover.”

  Peter nodded. “I agree. I wouldn’t dream of implanting the new prototype in anyone else. If the infection responds well to the antibiotics, we can do the electrode placement surgery to prepare her nerve endings for the new implant while she’s hospitalized. That will save time later.”

  Kale leaned forward, “That would be great. Will she be home for the recovery period?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure I trust her to stay in bed.” Peter steepled his fingers. “How would you feel about working from home when she’s released?”

  “We could move the next phase of the trials out to the farm. With a few modifications, the barn would be perfect.” Kale smiled. “I’ll check it for feasibility tonight and bring the specs tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Jordan was sitting up in bed when Kale entered her room. “You’re going to be the death of met yet. What the hell are you doing in here?”

  “Kale, thank God you’re here. I am so bored.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject. Christ, woman—a pressure sore? I knew you were pushing yourself too hard.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad. It could happen to anyone,” Jordan said defensively.

  “No, not anyone. You spent fourteen years in a hover-chair. You know how to prevent pressure sores. Are you trying to kill yourself? Are you trying to sabotage the implant project?”

  Jordan was silent while she waited for Kale to vent his frustration.

  “Are you finished?” she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

  “That won’t work,” he said. “I’m serious.”

  “Could I ask you for a favor?”

  Kale put his hands on his hips. “And what would that be?”

  “Could you run home and bring the diaries back? I’m bored out of my mind.”

  * * *

  Six in the morning. Jordan reached over to silence the beeping alarm clock. As she rolled back into bed, she noticed a hollow in the pillow beside her—someone had been sleeping with her. She frowned. The pillow was still warm. Jordan grasped the edge of the blanket and threw it aside. She swung her legs out and stood up. Jordan froze. Wait. What’s going on here? Am I dreaming again?

  Jordan looked down. She was totally naked. Okay, this is disturbing. I haven’t slept in the buff since Susan.

  Jordan tested her legs by taking two small tentative steps. When they continued to support her, she grabbed a robe from the back of the bedroom door and headed for the kitchen. “Kale? Where are you?” When she reached the end of the hall, Jordan found herself in unfamiliar surroundings. It was the same furniture she’d seen in her first dream about Maggie. Okay, now I know I’m dreaming. Get a grip, Jordan. She walked into the kitchen. It was also the kitchen of the past.

  She decided to confront the dream directly. “Maggie? Maggie, where are you?” Jordan waited patiently for a reply that did not come. Finally, she gave up and returned to the bedroom. “Okay, so where are my clothes?” She rummaged through the dresser. After a moment, she found a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt that seemed to fit her okay. Next came footwear. Beside the bed was a pair of cowboy boots that fit her suspiciously well.

  She returned to the kitchen, the sound of her boot heels echoing on the tile floor. She looked around the room and noticed something she hadn’t seen before—a note on the countertop near the stove. It was folded in half and addressed “To Jordan.” She picked it up with shaky hands and brought it to her nose. It smelled of patchouli. A surge of warmth spread through her abdomen. She gasped at the unfamiliar feeling, which quickly spread to her lower extremities. She leaned against the cabinet to steady herself and her emotions. When the strength returned to her shaky legs, she whispered, “What’s happening here, Maggie? Why do you enchant me so?”

  The note shook in her trembling hands. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply to calm her nerves. Finally, she opened her eyes and began to read.

  My Dearest Jordan,

  I awoke this morning and saw your beautiful face beside me. Last night was so incredible. How did you have the energy to make love after working so hard yesterday filling the well? I wanted desperately to wake you with kisses and make love to you all day long, but I knew you needed to sleep. Thank you for filling the well. You were right. Putting it in the middle of the north pasture was a bad idea. How did you become so wise, lover? I have decided to take an early morning ride along the west ridge. I anticipate making love with you upon my return.

  I love you with all my heart, Maggie.

  Jordan’s was filled with confusion. She read the note a second time and felt the burning ache in the very core of her being. She loves me? We made love? Why can’t I remember?

  Jordan carefully folded the note and placed it in her back pocket. Then she looked around the kitchen for clues about Maggie’s personality. The room was decorated with a decidedly country flair, not unlike the décor she and Kale had chosen for their new kitchen. As she admired Maggie’s taste, her eyes fell on a calendar hanging on the back of the kitchen door. Jordan frowned as the date came into focus. March, 2019.

  Jordan took a step back, her brow furrowed in thought. Why was that significant? March, 2019, March... oh, my God! Maggie died on March 29, 2019! Jordan began to pace, a panicky feeling invading her heart. What should I do? I’m not even sure what day it is. How do I find out? Wait! The holovision. Jordan ran into the living room. Shit! This is one of those old fashioned televisions. How do I turn it on? She sat on the edge of the couch and struggled with the remote control until she managed to turn it on. She clicked through the channels until she found one broadcasting the local weather. On the bottom-left side of the screen were the numbers 6:50 a.m., 3/29/2019.

  Jordan gasped. Oh, God. What did the obituary say? Maggie Downs died yesterday... early morning ride... found at the bottom of a cliff on the western fringes of her property.

  Jordan pulled Maggie’s note from her pocket.

  I have decided to take an early morning ride along the west ridge.

  Panic clenched Jordan’s heart. “I’ve got to stop her!”

  Jordan jumped to her feet, grabbed a canvas barn jacket from a hook by the door, and ran out into the yard. She ran to the barn and flung the door open. She searched desperately for a horse, finding only empty stall after empty stall. Finally, she came to
a magnificent mustang steed. Maggie owned the very same kind of horse that Jordan had had as a child.

  She spoke soothingly to the animal as she threw a blanket and saddle on its back. “Come on, big guy. We’ve got a job to do.” Jordan climbed into the saddle. A quick jab to the horse’s ribs and she was racing over the snow-covered fields at a full gallop. As she rode, Jordan anguished over how long it was taking to cover the distance from the house to the lake. In her desperation, she was oblivious to the biting cold that chafed her cheeks. I’ve forgotten how large this property is. God, please let me reach her in time.

  Nearly half an hour later, the frozen lake came into view. The sight encouraged Jordan to dig in her heels and push her steed to its limits. Maggie, please stay away from the edge. Please! I’m coming, my love, I’m coming. Please let me reach her in time. Suddenly, a shot rang out. As Jordan crested the last knoll separating her from the cliffs, the sight below robbed her of breath like a punch to the stomach. A riderless horse. Jordan’s heart fell. “Maggie! Maggie! No!” she screamed. She dug in her heels, bringing the horse to an abrupt stop at the edge of the cliff. Jordan jumped out of the saddle, the impact causing her to tumble into the snow and, in the process, twisting her right ankle. She grabbed her injured limb. “Goddamn it!”

  She climbed painfully to her feet and limped to the edge. Throwing herself to the ground, she peered over the side. At the bottom, among snow-covered boulders and rocks, lay a woman’s body. Her arms and legs were at odd angles, and her long red curls were splayed out around her head.

  “Maggie,” Jordan screamed.

  She looked around desperately for an easy way down the cliff and spotted a worn trail about thirty yards away. She scrambled to her feet and limped along the edge of the cliff until she reached the path. Clumsily, she began her descent, falling several times as her injured ankle refused to support her weight on the slippery slope. Jordan was terrified that she was already too late. “Maggie, baby, please hold on. I’m coming. Please hold on.”