180 Days in Montauk

"Meatloaf, new carrots and pearl onions. I have a hunch she'll like it."

As I left, I checked my phone and saw another text from Finn. Over the past two days he had been here to the clinic at least four times and had called me at least five times. If he wasn't smitten, he was on his way. His knight-rescuing-the-damsel complex was in full effect. I called him back instead of texting.

"Hello, Finn. Want to join me for some grocery shopping? We're making meatloaf." He was his own boss. He could take the afternoon off. We'd even bring that big smelly mutt of his.

CYNTHIA

The two men were standing on my porch when we pulled in. They could have been twins. Same close shorn hair, same black sunglasses, same build, same nondescript black suits. Their black Crown Vic was parked on my gravel driveway.

Finn looked at me. "Were you expecting anyone?"

"Sooner or later. Keep Dink outside and grab the groceries. I'll get the door."

He put his hand on my arm. "No, this doesn't... Something is off. Stay here, Aunt Cynthia. I'm going to talk to them. Keep your phone out."

Oh, my sweet brave Finn. I'd been dealing with threats worse than this for forty years.

"It'll be fine, Finn. Keep Dink away from them."

"Who are they?"

"Just some assholes who've messed with the wrong old lady. C'mon."

Unconcerned with our visitors, Dink spent time spot-watering anyplace he thought another dog may have been. Finn grabbed the grocery bags and I led the way up the steps, to the door, talking over my shoulder as I inserted the key.

"This will be our first and last meeting and you can drop the theatrics. I'm not some hick who saw his cow get sucked into a flying saucer."

They followed me as I entered, no explicit invitation offered. Assholes. Finn entered last and closed the door behind him. I pointed to a couch and they sat. They were good. They didn't let on how annoyed they must be that their dramatics had no discernible effect. I took a seat opposite them.

"Finn, you can put the bags in the kitchen. These men are here to try to frighten me. Nothing more. They aren't a threat."

He stood there and glared at them before moving on to the kitchen. Finn was a passionate young man. If he thought I was in danger he would have done anything to stop them. And he would have failed.

Looking at the men, I held up my index finger as I dug my phone out of my pocket. "Give me one minute before we get into it."

I started the texts that got the balls rolling. I then slipped a second phone on the coffee table in front of me. Looking across the room, I smiled at my guests as I spoke.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me for some water in a croaking voice? Or did you drop that hokey melodrama in the seventies? I assume that you're here to give me vague warnings about," I used fingers to make air quotes as I continued. "talking too much about things that could only frighten the general public? Maybe toss out an oblique threat here and there? Do I have that..."

The phone I had tossed on the table rang. "Oh, that was quick. It's for you, John. Pick it up."

The guest sitting to the left lost a bit of his stoicism upon hearing his name.

"Seriously, pick it up. It's just a phone. It's not going to bite."

He stood, took a step forward and tentatively reached for the phone. Picking it up, he answered. "Hello?"

Eyes grown wide, he looked as if he were about to drop the phone.

Smile in place, I looked at him as he looked back. He stared like I was a viper when he had expected a grandma. "Answer her, John."

He spoke into the phone, eyes never moving from me. "Hi, Mom." Listening. "Yes, it was a very kind offer, but we're not going to be here long." Again, he paused to listen. "Of course. I'll let Ms. Kallas know. I'll call soon." He hung up and placed the phone on the table.

Rigid posture gone, he slumped back on the couch. He looked up at me sheepishly before speaking. "She wanted me to thank you for the invitation. She'd love to stop by the next time they are in New York."

"Well, your mother seemed like a very sweet lady. She's always welcome." I turned to his partner. "Yours, as well, William."

Stripping them of their anonymity was fun, as was the implied threat. I noticed Finn leaning against the kitchen doorway, alert and ready to take action, regardless of how futile it would be.

"I'm going to be brief, because you'll be leaving in a moment. Tell your superiors to never try this crap again. I know who you are. I know who they are. I know who funds you. I've been playing this game for almost fifty years. You think I didn't see you coming a mile away? You're talented amateurs. At best. You believe you're the masters of all the secret passages in the hallways of power? I created half the shadows you hide in. This was a gentle comfortable meeting. If I meet again with you or your associates, I won't be as polite."

William stood, straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket. "Thank you for your hospitality ma'am. We'll be taking our leave now."

As their car pulled out of the driveway, Finn came in and sat down. He shook his head and looked at me. "Sometimes you're Mary Poppins and other times you're the Terminator. Who the heck were they?"

"A toothless urban myth with an inflated sense of self." I turned and couldn't help smiling at my handsome young man. "So, what shall we make for dessert?"

CYNTHIA

From what I could determine, we had gone through this at least twenty times. The plan's strength was in its simplicity. My younger self would memorize the contents of the small journal I would give her a week before she returned to nineteen-sixty-eight. It wasn't difficult to commit its contents to memory. We purposefully kept it minimalistic and just hit the highlights.

The journal contained a list of companies to invest in as well as sports upsets on which to bet. More importantly, it listed all of the methods we had tried in our attempt to circumvent our return to the past. We had tried removing the young Jennifer Cowell from the vicinity. It didn't work. We moved her to the other side of the earth. Severe distances didn't help either. We tried keeping her in a lead cell. That didn't help. Neither did the Farraday Cage. Temperature fluctuations had no impact. Sub-arctic weather and Death Valley heat weren't helpful.

We explored other, more esoteric options. Being in religious edifices was ineffective. Ley lines seemed unimportant. We tried consulting shamans, mystics, channelers, psychics and charlatans of every shape. She had been anointed, blessed, been the center of rituals, had taken peyote, held onto supposed holy items and clutched relics of saints.

Losing the love of her life, Jennifer always returned to her past, six months after appearing.

JENNIFER

I wasn't restricted in any way. I didn't know what they would do if I tried to escape, but as long as I stayed in the building, they were very kind. Maybe it was community outreach, but all of the patients and families I saw come and go appeared to be civilian.

They had a rec center, and that's where I spent most of my time when I wasn't speaking to the doctors. There were a few pool tables and some sort of advanced television where they let me watch movies. It was crazy. They must have had hundreds available that you could watch whenever you wanted. When I finished one, I would ask someone from the staff for help and we would choose another. They were very patient, but I could see how they looked at me. It was as if I were an infant.

I kept trying to remember exactly what I'd seen when I snuck behind that fence. No one said I was a prisoner, but they kept trying to scare the beejeebers out of me. When I asked to be taken to a phone, they handed me a plastic doohicky with buttons that wasn't attached to anything. They said I could dial by pressing the numbers. Hands shaking, I called home. Some man with what seemed like a German accent answered and had no idea what I was talking about. I called Daddy's office and it turned out to be a bakery. When no one answered at Annabelle's house, I stopped trying.

Those little walkie-talkie phone things were so convincing, and everyone there just seemed to accept them. I didn't know what the hell they wanted with me. I'd sign whatever they'd liked; I'd never tell anyone what I saw. I just wanted to go home.

I was watchingThe Graduate when they walked in. It was a strange mix of disquieting and comfortable. Embarrassing myself, I launched out of my seat thinking the older woman was Grandma. I immediately realized my mistake and sat back down. The young man carrying the bags looked familiar but somehow left the impression that something was missing or incomplete.

She was a kind-looking woman, but there was something achingly familiar about her. The way she walked, the way she leaned to her left as she stood there, the way she tilted her head. And then she spoke. "Hello, Jennifer. I'm Cynthia and this is Finn. Dr. Khalil thought it would be okay if you have some company and Finn and I thought you might like some dinner." Even her voice reminded me of something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I turned my attention to the man with the bags. "You were there. You found me, you and... where's your dog?"

My face grew warm and a blush started at the base of my neck. I felt like an idiot. They're not going to let a dog into a military hospital. I stood there staring at him. He was tall and thin, but seemed... outdoorsy. I don't know why, but I got the impression that he was strong and worked with his hands. I vaguely remembered him picking me up and then something about a car. That lopsided smile was back, and my pulse started racing.

"Dink? He's at home, probably sleeping on the porch or hunting butterflies."

Thinking about his dog reminded me of the poor beast in that cage. Looking at me, almost pleading. I was a human, maybe his human. I could make sense of this. I could help him. Oh God, that poor dog. Whenever I fall asleep I see his eyes, his confusion, his need.

The woman, Cynthia, stepped forward. "Jennifer? Are you all right?"

"Yes I... Just remembering. I'm fine. Are you with the hospital?"

"Well, sort of. I'm not on staff and I don't have a title, but I guess if I wanted one I could have it." She spoke with a smile, but there was something underneath it. A sense of authority.

Oddly, although they were together, that sense of authority was at odds with the vibe I was picking up from Finn. She gave me the impression that she could bend someone to her will, while he seemed like one of those people that were always calm and unassuming. She stepped back, close to him, almost protectively. Are they related?

He looked at her fondly, almost teasingly. "She's not going to say it, but Aunt Cynthia pays the bills here. She's sorta the boss." Okay, I guess they are related.

Finn stepped forward and handed me one of the bags. He continued talking as he grabbed a nearby folding table and carried it over to the couch. "We brought you some clothes. Aunt Cynthia picked them out, blame her." He lifted the bag that was still in his hand. "We brought some dinner and even picked up some fresh bread. Blue Duck Bakery. They're fantastic."

I looked in the bag and saw pajamas, panties, bras, a skirt, and some other clothes. We ate dinner together, talking but not saying much. I got the feeling that they were trying not to upset me. I tried just as hard to please her. Was he lying? Was she really in charge? How did this woman get to be in a position to run a facility like this? The food was excellent, even the bread of which he seemed so proud. Sitting back after eating, I almost cried. It felt like Sunday dinner. It felt like home.

"Finn, I need to speak to some of the staff. Why don't you show Jennifer around the grounds? Take her down to the water. I'll need about an hour."

"Sure. Jennifer, you feel like taking a walk?"

We were both quiet as we headed out towards the parking lot and the beach beyond. He coughed and seemed nervous as he began to speak "Uhhh, sorry if those were old lady clothes. I'll talk to my sister, Siobhan, tomorrow and see if she can pick some stuff up."

I ignored the strange looking cars and trucks and concentrated on Finn. Was he nervous talking to me? I smiled for the first time I could remember since arriving here. "They're fine. Thanks. Right size and everything. So, who names their dog Dink?"

My heart lurched as he laughed. Finn had a good laugh, warm and full. He couldn't be one of them, working for the military. He just couldn't.

"When we were very young, just kids, Siobhan would chase me around the house yelling Humperdink, Humperdink, Humperdink! I'd pretend to be Miracle Max and run away in fear. She must have been about four or five. Three years ago, when I got Dink, he was a ball of energy. He'd run up to Siobhan and then bound away. One day, as he started running from her, she started laughing and yelling Humperdink, Humperdink, Humperdink! It was like we were kids again. He became Humperdink and that became Dink."

I laughed, but was confused. "That's cute, but I don't get it. Who's Humperdink and who's Miracle Max?"

Eyes wide, he stared at me. "Who is... Oh. My. God! You've never seenThe Princess Bride? Inconceivable! It's the greatest movie ever made."

I laughed again. "Okay, I'll try to watch it the next time it's on TV."

He seemed aghast. "That is completely unacceptable. I have the 30th anniversary blue ray. We've got to watch it. It's amazing."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but if he wanted to watch a movie with me, I had no problems with that. We walked past the parking lot, and down to the water. I kicked off my sandals and walked forward, letting the waves surround my feet and ankles before they slowly receded. With the exception of the excitable seagulls, we were alone on this stretch of beach.

Finn and I spoke about nothing. I kept sneaking furtive glances his way, trying to get another glimpse of that smile. He told me about fishing and his small oyster farm and I discussed friends back home and how I was trying to learn how to play guitar. I don't think either one of us was paying attention to the words as much as we were to each other.

When he said we should probably head back, I noticed he wasn't wearing a watch. We didn't dawdle, but we also didn't rush as we made our way back to the building. It didn't strike me until we were halfway there that I should probably be trying to see if there were guards posted anywhere. It didn't appear so, but I wouldn't make any assumptions.

Finn and his aunt left after he assured me again that his sister would be by tomorrow with some clothes.

JENNIFER

Twice that night I awoke screaming with vague impressions of something alien stirring in the depths of my memories. It was dark and shadowy and didn't belong. Someone from the staff would arrive quickly and sit with me, as I tried to rid myself of the only concrete impressions I had from the dreams, the eyes of that poor dog.

I was back in the rec room the next afternoon with two young kids. The same TV that got me whatever movies I wanted was able to show them Bugs Bunny cartoons. Their Spanish was better than their English, so I taught them to sing 'kill the wabbit' phonetically. They may have been too distracted by the silly Elmer Fudd to give it their all. Selfishly, I hoped that their parents would be slow in coming to retrieve them.

I drank in their innocent joy and let it push back the despair that was settling in my soul. I couldn't reach my friends or family, I was tormented by nightmares, I had no money, no car, no ID and no plan.

I met with the doctors for more than an hour numerous times a day. They were friendly and certainly polite, but I felt like they were hiding something from me. They kept asking me about the same things. Simple, everyday questions about where I grew up, where I went to school, movies, television shows and every mundane thing you could imagine. I kept getting the feeling that they wanted to tell me something but were holding back.

As the children and I sang along with Elmer, a woman walked in, nodded to Henry, the staff member, and headed my way. It was obvious who she was. The resemblance was uncanny.

Her pretty, broad face broke into a smile as she spoke. "So, you must be the siren that's captured my brother!" She extended her right hand, her left remained by her side holding a bag. "I'm Siobhan, nice to meet you."

Her smile was infectious. For some reason I felt like hugging her, but I settled for shaking her hand. "Hi, I'm Jennifer. Look, I didn't think this through yesterday when Finn spoke about you, and I feel really bad," I pointed at her bag, "but I don't have any money to give you."

"Oh, no problem. Finn or Aunt Cynthia will cover it. You have to take the stuff though, or Finn will cut me off. He's the only one in our family that cooks, and if I go back to my dorm empty handed, I'll starve."

"He's a good cook?"

"There's two things that boy is good at, fishing and cooking. Okay, and his oyster farm. I guess that's three things. Now that I'm thinking about it, if you include wrapping Aunt Cynthia around your finger, he's good at four things."

"Did he learn to cook from her?"

Siobhan let loose a short, loud laugh. "No, absolutely not. She's terrible. Let me guess, you thought she could cook because she made her meatloaf and carrots?"

"How did you know?"

"That's all she knows how to make. She said she learned it from her mom. She trots it out when she wants to impress people. I guess you're important."

I laughed. "I'm in the same boat. That's all my mom taught me as well."

"Listen, I have to get back to campus. It was great to meet you. Finn said he's going to stop by later and bring dinner. There's a bunch of stuff in the bag, give me a call if you need anything else. Do you have your phone?"

"You mean at home?"

"No, with you. I'll give you my number."

Is she talking about one of those walkie-talkie things? "No, sorry."

"Okay, no big deal. Let Finn know if you need anything, and he'll give me a call. I'll be at the gun range with my dad, so I'll be by the outlets. I can stop in and pick stuff up if you need it."

"Gun range? Like, firing guns?" Is she into violence? Guns. Wow. "I'm sorry, of course firing. Is that... something you do a lot?"

"Pretty regularly. My uncle and grandfather were cops and I'm taking the Suffolk County exam in the fall."

A cop. I guess that's all right. They have to carry guns. It just felt odd. A girl my age choosing to pick up a gun after what happened to President Kennedy and Dr. King. "Oh. Okay, thanks. If I can think of anything, I'll let Finn know."

After she left, I found out that Marvin the Martian was funny in English and Spanish. The kids were laughing their heads off until their parents came to collect them a little later that afternoon. I didn't want to go back to my room and I was scared to leave the building without an escort. Finn's aunt was the boss, so I guess they couldn't say anything last night when we went to the beach.

When a middle-aged woman obsessed with her grandkids showed me countless photos on one of those devices they called a phone, things started to shift. How did she have access to technology like this? Why weren't those kids phased by the lack of commercials? Why was I the only one for whom this was so strange?

I passed the sign-in desk on my way through the foyer and stood at the glass doors, staring into the parking lot at people coming and going in those strange cars. Parents, teens, old people. None of it made any sense. Something was subtly off. My knees buckled when I realized what it was. Some of these vehicles were... shabby.