180 Days in Montauk

The water and the slowly setting sun were beautiful, but my eyes kept drifting back to Finn, who was wearing those strange plastic-like shorts that almost came down to his knees, and a tee-shirt under a windbreaker. His back was to me as I looked up at him in that little room while he steered the boat. My eyes trailed down from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist.

His voice pulled me from my reverie. "Any place in particular you want to go?" He had to be loud to be heard over the wind and the engine.

"Are we anywhere near Long Island Sound?"

"Sure, we can swing over there. Why?"

"I... I just wanted to see Connecticut. I know it sounds stupid, but it's home. Can we still see the sunset from there?"

"Oh, sure. Absolutely. That doesn't sound stupid. It'll take us a little while. We'll have to go out past Orient Point. Just look to your right and behind us for the sunset." Finn started an arc that brought us back in the opposite direction. "We'll be passing by Gardiner Island soon. If you start to get cold, there are blankets in the cabinet at the bottom of the steps to the left of the galley."

It took us longer than I anticipated to get there. Leg occasionally twitching, Dink was sleeping, snoring, and sometimes softly yelping at what I assumed were the rabbits in his dreams. Eventually, Finn turned off the engines and came over to sit next to me. He pointed ahead of us.

"It's too dark to make much out, but Connecticut is right over there. We can sit here for a while. Hungry?"

Dink lifted his head and opened his eyes when he heard an indication that food might be on the way.

I was famished. "Starving. What did you make?"

"Give me a few minutes."

He climbed below deck, taking the steps two at a time. The dishes started clattering and I wondered if I should lend him a hand. I walked to the top of the stairs. "Hey, this is the third meal you've prepared. Can I lend a hand? I'm feeling a little guilty here."

"No, I've got it." He came back up the steps with the picnic basket in hand and that smile in place. His dark blond wavy hair seemed perfectly suited for being on the water. Finn was gorgeous. He put the basket down and grabbed a folding table with long legs from the stand that held the fishing poles. The legs of the table fit into four holes I hadn't noticed before.

Identifying the items as he pulled them from the basket, he made it into a presentation. "Right, we have some Iberico ham, fresh arugula, some brie, whatever grapes Shiv left us, a baguette, some honey from a local apiary, and a dozen truffles. Chocolate. Chocolate truffles. I do okay, but I don't have Aunt Cynthia type money."

He smiled, and I smiled back, but again, I didn't know why that was amusing. Were truffles expensive? Were there different types of truffles?

"I brought water, iced tea and lemonade. I didn't know if, you know, you could drink wine."

I smiled and then realized he may be thinking they had me on medication. That put a dampener on things really quick. I tried to get the mood back.

"So, Finn, is this where you take all your dates? Out for sunset cruises on your beautiful boat?"

"Only when I'm dating groups of middle-aged men who like to curse in French. Unless it's me and my dad, the only people I regularly take out are chefs who want to go fishing."

I started assembling a sandwich with some of that amazing ham, the brie and some drizzled honey on a hunk of bread. "Not too many dates on your yacht then?"

"So far, just one."

"How did it go?"

"I'll let you know when we get back."

I hoped the growing darkness was enough to cover my recurring blush. The unique dinner was delicious, and we talked as the stars slowly appeared. Away from the lights of civilization, there were so many of them, and they were so bright. The view, and being there with Finn, pushed everything else from my mind.

There was a light breeze as we sat under the gibbous moon, waves lapping at the hull. Finn leaned closer as he pointed out constellations. I leaned closer to him, not giving a damn about the constellations. I've never seen a man as good looking as Finn take as long as he was. I wasn't sure if I should be honored or insulted. As he pointed to a star that was over my shoulder I leaned forward, put my arms around his neck and kissed him.

He was shocked for a second, and then returned the kiss. I shivered as his mouth opened and he tentatively reached his tongue towards my lips. As they parted, my tongue reached out to his while his arms wrapped around me. It was electric. I felt a need for him coursing through my body. Gone were the nightmares, the fears, the loneliness. There was just Jennifer and Finn.

CYNTHIA

We were wheels-up and on our way twenty minutes early. I'd been browsing Amazon for basic texts on genetics and had downloaded six books, so far. I didn't need to be an expert, but I needed to be able to ask the experts the right questions.

I pulled my phone from my purse, put it on speaker and laid it on the table in front of me. "Call George."

He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Cynthia. How many Darth Vaders and Dr. Spocks did you see?"

"I think it's Mr. Spock and I didn't walk the floors. Not too many people in costumes. It was in and out, this year. Listen, I need a few things. I need you to find a local tutor for basics on genetics. Try Stony Brook University. I'm also going to need world class experts on the field, especially those that work on the cutting edge and some that specialize in hypotheticals and what might be coming up in the future."

"Okay, slow down. I'm taking notes. Any specialization?"

"Yes, if possible. I'd like to speak to someone who has put some thought and work into rejuvenation of DNA to when a person was a young adult."

"Have I ever told you how weird you are?"

"Oh, I don't know, about once a week for the past thirty years?"

He laughed and continued. "All right, I'll have some info for you by tomorrow."

"You're a good man, George." I paused for a moment. "George, it's been thirty years. You never ask me any questions about what I'm doing. Don't you ever get curious?"

"Not my circus, not my monkeys. Sometimes you have me find a construction company to build you an extension, sometimes you have me fly to Damascus to purchase a book by Abdul Alhazred. You pay the bills; I do the running. You put my kids through college, you were there for me when Elise passed, you pay me well. You want me to find some geneticists, I'll find you some geneticists."

"You're a good man George. I wish I could..."

His strong voice had a resigned tone. We weren't what he wanted, but he wouldn't let it impact how he did his job. "I know. I appreciate it. I'll take what we have."

For a moment I was distracted by what might have been, melancholy pushing at my edges, "George... I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Fly safe, Cynthia."

JENNIFER

How could one day offer so much that was both wonderful and terrifying? Either the world was crazy or I was. I believe that Finn thought it was 2018 and I didn't know how to process that. Too many things were just... off. It's not like the Jetsons, but everything was slightly twisted. There were too many signs that it wasn't 1968 for me to ignore.

And all of this was rolling through my mind as I spent the best day of my life on the boat with Finn.

We didn't do much more than kiss, and it was as confusing as hell. I could tell that he was into me, and he had to know that I liked him, so why the hesitation? When he drove me back to the clinic, he walked me to the door. Gary unlocked it, said hello to Finn, and let me in. I went to my room and to bed. No interrogations, no guards outside my door.

Finn had to work the next day. I should have expected that, he ran his own business. He couldn't just have someone else run things. He did ask if I wanted to join him on Saturday when he took his boat to Brooklyn. I tried not to let my excitement show when I agreed.

Our day apart was slow, tedious and without surprises. There was only one doctor to see during my appointments. There had been a small group the other times. I also met with Dr. Khalil, who asked me more normal questions. It seemed as though I had vomited blood when Finn brought me there originally. She was more concerned about that than my mental state. I actually enjoyed my time with her. It felt... normal. I was a patient, she was a doctor. All of the weirdness was shunted off for the moment.

I was even allowed to walk along the beach by myself, that afternoon. I found myself looking in the direction of the Montauk Lighthouse, thinking about my friends. My soul ached. Where were they? Did something happen to them?

CYNTHIA

They won no points for originality. He was standing on my porch when my driver pulled up in front of the house.

"Ms. Kallas, you want I should walk you to the door? You know that guy?"

My driver was a nice young man. Not too gifted upstairs, but sweet and loyal. "No, Pete. He's an old colleague. Thank you. I'll call you. You have a great weekend."

I grabbed my overnight bag and clambered out of the back seat. Pete stayed beside the car, watching as I made my way up to the porch and then the door.

"Hello, Director. Or is it Senator? Care to come in?"

"Just Mort is fine, Ms. Kallas. Thank you. I won't take up too much of your time."

I reclined in my chair and he sat on the couch, where his young colleague had sat.

"Okay, Mort. I guess when you are in the position you're in, director or senator aren't titles that impress. So, what can I do for you?"

"First off, I'd like to apologize. That was clumsy, inelegant and done without my knowledge. They were using a sledgehammer when an outstretched hand was in order." He paused and smiled at me. "You did put the fear of God in them, though. Your reputation grew by leaps and bounds."

"Good to hear. So, what can I do for you?"

"There was an... anomaly here a few days ago. I was hoping that you could shed some light on what happened."

I had to choose my words carefully. They knew something. If they didn't, those earlier two would have never shown up. "It's flattering that you'd think I'd know anything. What sort of anomaly are we discussing?"

"Something opened. Sensors went off the charts. It was highly localized and there's still fraying. The area is stabilizing, but it's still infirm and... something is trying to weaken it and get through."

Well, that was delightful in its way. No subterfuge, no talking around the subject. Cards on the table. "That's all very interesting and shocking, but I have no idea why you'd be asking me about this."

"Cynthia, could I tell you a story?" He didn't wait for an answer. "In early 1969 a young woman was admitted to Pilgrim State Psychiatric Center. It's about forty miles west of here."

I wasn't happy with where this was going. "I'm familiar with it."

"Yes, well, this woman was a Jane Doe. I don't know if she knew her name or just didn't want to give it. She was there the better part of two years. I don't know how familiar you are with psychiatric practices back then, but they filmed some of her sessions. The most they could get out of her was that she needed to understand what 'they' said to her. Who 'they' were, she never said. She claimed that 'they' were trying to come here, had been for longer than recorded history and were starving. When she left the facility, the only thing she left behind were seventeen notebooks filled with bizarre and esoteric mathematical formulas."

He paused and smiled. "Bear with me, I'm getting to the good part. In late 1971 a young, beautiful woman started making substantial investments in property on the Long Island shore. Here's the thing. She was about the same height as Jane Doe, had the same hair coloring and a 1975 interview with a local news station show displayed that she had a remarkably similar voice and speech pattern. This young woman became fabulously wealthy and seemed to know exactly what was going to happen before it did. She quickly developed a reputation in Washington where they call her The Spider. We all sit in her web, unaware until she decides to make her move."

He held up a hand, chuckling, maintaining hisbon homie attitude. "I know, always a flair for the dramatic. Anyway, power brokers were soon at her beck and call. The people who thought they were running the show soon realized they'd better stay on her good side. This sounding familiar?"

I looked up past his shoulder and saw my friend leaning against the door jam, much like Finn had the other day. Thankfully, George would be much more helpful if assistance was needed.

"I'm sorry Mort. Have you met George?"

"No. Mr. Espinoza, your reputation precedes you."

Arms crossed, George continued to lean as he nodded to Mort. Not exactly taciturn, no frown in place, George stared while I continued. "I'm sorry, Mort. Please go on."

He smiled again. "Cynthia, you regularly correspond with seven of the world's leading mathematicians. Why is that?"

"Oh, I guess I'm a grandma figure. I ask them my simple questions, send some cookies their way and they're kind enough to write back."

"Really? Remember that Jane Doe? Her notebooks are being studied at Cambridge and MIT. Three of those seven spent part of their doctoral dissertations on what they found in those books. Cynthia, help me out here. Do we have anything we need to worry about after what happened at Camp Hero?"

"I can promise you this, if I can think of anything that you can help with I will let you know immediately."

We chatted for a while longer and I asked about his wife and grandchildren. He showed me a few pictures, we made small talk and I escorted him to his car.

Going back into the house, I entered the office, removed the rug and X'd another day off on the calendar. I went over the X three times, pushing harder each time. Forcing the lid on the marker, I watched it bounce off the desk when I threw it down. I didn't like people getting in my business.

George and I had a late lunch before I had him drive me to the clinic. Finn's Cherokee was in the parking lot when we arrived. "You can just drop me off. I'll get Finn to drive me home."

"You spoil that boy, Cynthia."

"I try to, but be honest. Is he spoiled?"

"No, he's a good kid, but still, how much business do you throw his way?"

"Not much. My two restaurants and a catering company. If he lost their business it would hurt, but he'd be fine."

"Yeah? And no other... inducements for restaurateurs?"

"You mean kickbacks? No. He's really that good. Finn turns business away. You need to have a little more faith in the young man."

George was silent for a moment. He knew that I was unusually close to Finn, who I called my nephew, but to whom I wasn't related. It was a cypher to him and he had chewed at it for almost two decades. "So, Pilgrim State?"

"Not your monkeys, George." I patted his hand before I got out of his pick-up and felt that familiar comfort again. Neither of us were young, but we weren't dead. After Elise's passing, we found refuge in each other's body on occasion, but I couldn't be what he wanted or needed.

Gina sat at the front desk when we walked in. "Good afternoon, Gina. Is Jennifer in?"

"Hello, Ms. Kallas. No, she's walking the beach."

"Gina, how many times have I asked you to call me Cynthia? What about Finn? Is he around?"

"He got here around half an hour ago, Ms, I mean, Cynthia. I think he's talking to Dr. Khalil."

"Great. Thank you. Tell your mom I said hi."

Making my way to the doctor's office, I paused outside her door when I heard Dr. Khalil speaking.

"Mr. Corrigan, it would be a bad idea for you to be taking her anywhere off the grounds. I must insist that if you wish to see her, you do so here in the rec room. And you may want to cut back on the frequency. I understand she was just out with you on a boat?"

I took three deep breaths and calmed myself as I clenched and released my fists. I plastered a smile on my face as I stepped into the office. "Hello, Barbara. Finn, nice to see you. I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds. The medical care here is certainly your bailiwick, Barbara, but how could it hurt for two young people to get together on a boat for a few hours or to have a picnic or to feed the seagulls?"

"How could it... Cynthia, did you receive the updates I sent you? She thinks it's 1968. Do you have any idea what sort of damage the cognitive dissonance would incur if she was confronted with proof that it was 2018?"

"Barbara, we're in a building with some of the best technology available in a first world country. The rec room has Netflix and Amazon Prime. There has to be four or five copies ofTime magazine sitting in the waiting room. Today's newspaper is scattered everywhere. Every person walking through the door has a phone that could access the internet. You really think going out on a boat is a big risk?"

Dr. Khalil took a breath and paused for a second. I don't think she was used to people challenging her.

"I understand what you're saying, Cynthia, but why take unnecessary risks?"

"It's not worth much, but my hunch is she'll be fine, and spending time with someone her age is just what she needs. More importantly, she's here of her own free will and I don't think we have the right or authority to tell her what she can or cannot do."

Barbara put her Iron Lady mask on, warmth and collegiality draining away. "You're certainly correct Ms. Kallas. Mr. Corrigan, if you do like this young woman, I would hope that you would heed my advice. If we're done here, I have some reports to finish up."

Finn and I left, and I bought him dinner as he regaled me with his side of how things went on the cabin cruiser. I had forgotten how brazen I was. We were a lot more open in 1968 than we were in 2018. I remembered how frustrated I was with Finn's taking things slowly.

He was taking her to the city the next day. What a kick in the teeth that turned out to be. I could only hope it would be better for Jennifer than it was for me. If things went the same, tonight would the first time she staked her claim and the night when all her illusions came crumbling down.

JENNIFER

I stood at the door watching the ocean and the gulls making their occasional dives, while I waited for Finn. He was my respite, my relief from the isolation. My heart quickened as his truck pulled into the parking lot. I turned, waved to Gina and rushed out to the curb.

Warm dog breath greeted me as Dink couldn't decide whether he should lick my face or push his head under my hand in the hopes of getting his ears scratched. I twisted in my seat and reached back, grabbing his head in my hands.

"Who's a good boy? Is Dink a good boy?"

Finn grinned as he looked my way. "Baby talk? Leave that poor dog some dignity."

I smiled back at him. "Jealous? Is Finn a good boy?" Something flickered behind his eyes as he gazed at me. For a second, he looked almost predatory. He wanted me. Finn took a deep breath; the look fell away and all I was left with was my thundering heart.

Not breaking eye contact, I broached the topic that had been pushing me. "I need a favor."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Can you take me to the library and let me use your card?"

Finn looked over at me, thinking. "Uhhh, I don't even know if my card is still active. We can stop at Barnacle Books. They're about two miles from here. Did you know what you wanted to get?"

"You know how sometimes you remember something you saw or read a long time ago and you get an urge to look into it? Like an old recipe, or some old actor or the John Kennedy assassination? When I woke up here, for some reason I kept thinking about high school math and calculus." I hated the way my voice sounded. Pleading, hoping he wouldn't feel the way I knew he had to feel. Like I was strange, odd. I just wanted to be a girl with a kind, handsome boy.