“In Whatever Time We Have”

"In Whatever Time We Have" JLF

My life's history is a series of accidents, sometimes happy, sometimes not even close. To say I'm accident prone would be the understatement of the eon. Sometimes my accidents are commonplace, non-threatening, even funny. But usually my accidents are far from commonplace, decidedly dangerous and/or life-threatening, and highly heart-rending. Of course, those accidents usually have at least one upside. Him. Another history of my life could be told through a series of beautiful, magical, frightful encounters with my savior, my guardian angel, my protector, the love of my life… I have been in love with him since I was five years old. Trust me, I know how weird that sounds, but it's the truth. The cold, hard, unavoidable Truth. Unfortunately for me, this love-of-my-life wasn't some local neighborhood boy who was around the same age as me; no, he looked as if he were approximately twenty-five years old. But looks can be deceiving. His name is Campbell, though he always refused to tell me whether that was his first or last name. He didn't want me researching him, ferreting out all his dark, dirty secrets. But it wasn't because he was secretive or trying to be intentionally mysterious; he was ashamed of certain areas of his past, afraid that if I ever found them out, I would never be able to look at him the same way again. He was right.

* * *

"Is this it? Is this the end?" "No, no, no! Don't say that. Don't even think it. You're gonna be fine; you're not going to…you can't…please…please don't…" "I—I love…I…" "No! Please—please don't leave me. Don't leave me alone. Don't you dare! Don't…don't…oh, God…please…don't do this to me…please…"

* * *

My father used to call me "The Menace Magnet," (with a subtle nod to "Dennis", one of his all-time favorite comics) because, even before I was born, I was attracting danger and peril at every turn. When my mother was pregnant with me, only about a month on the doctors later said as she didn't have any notion she was pregnant, my parents were involved in a nearly life-threatening car crash. Actually, it was almost life-ending and would most likely have negated my as yet unpredicted magnetism were it not for the attentions of another passing motorist who managed to pull both my mother and father from their burning car (cue the movie cliché, I know, but it's true). Their savior never identified himself; he merely drug them from the upturned burning wreckage of their '83 Suburban and then drove away before any emergency personnel even arrived. Then there was my Little Incident when I was five (not really a "little" incident, or even really an "incident;" more like a catastrophic near-fatality were it not for the intervention of another savior). Apparently I'd had earlier mishaps before I was five, but they were nowhere near as nearly catastrophic as my Little Incident. And yet, despite my aforementioned magnetism, my father never wanted to staunch my thirst for adventure (though my poor mother tried and later succeeded). Maybe if he'd known how that penchant for life-threatening situations would've affected him shortly after my seventh birthday, he wouldn't have… But he didn't know. And that time there was no miraculous savior standing by to rescue us.

* * *

"Do you remember my Dad? I know you only met him that one time, but…but you must've seen him when you were watching over me all those times." "Yeah, I do remember him. He was a really good man. A good dad." "If only you could've…" "Could've what?" "I don't know. Been there during the…you were always so good at saving me. Maybe you could've…could've saved him." "Maybe…maybe I could've." "Why do you seem so uncomfortable? It's not like you haven't seen me crying before." "That doesn't mean I like it. Maybe we should talk about something else like—" "—No. I need…to talk about it. Please…you're the only person who could understand. Mom couldn't…wouldn't talk about it. I think she…she blamed me." "Your mother wouldn't blame you for what happened. It was an accident." "Yeah, except for how it was my fault. I wanted to go camping so badly so…Dad took me. Mom said it was a bad idea. She had a bad feeling about it. Besides I was always getting into trouble, getting hurt; she figured taking me out in the woods with wild animals and rivers and…she said she was afraid I'd get lost. But I didn't. I didn't get attacked by wild animals either. But the river…she was right about that. And it was my fault." "Lilie, don't say that. It wasn't—" "—It was! I wanted something out of the backseat…I don't even remember what. So I climbed halfway back and distracted my dad because he kept telling me to get back in my seat and get whatever it was when we stopped. And he didn't see the deer that had wandered out in the road until he almost hit it. So he swerved and…and the truck…went off the bridge. I must've gotten thrown out the back window. That's what the paramedics said when they found me. I was just laying on the riverbank, knocked out, with only a couple of cuts on me. And Dad…Daddy…" "Lilie, stop it. That wasn't your fault. It was an accident. Your dad wouldn't want you to blame yourself. That could've happened to anyone. You should count your lucky stars that you weren't buckled in, or you might not have gotten out of the car so easily." "How…how did you know I wasn't buckled in? I didn't…I didn't say that." "I…I assumed. Because…if you had had your belt on, you wouldn't have been thrown clear of the car." "Unless the seatbelt broke. No, no, you said that like you knew. Like you knew that I…you…you were there? You were there." "No, no, Lilie, I wasn't. I—" "—Yes, you were. Yes, you were! You pulled me out of the river. They said it was miraculous that I didn't drown, but it wasn't. You pulled me out and left me so I wouldn't…so I wouldn't know you'd saved me again. … I…I saw you. Oh my God. I remember you there. I thought it was all in my head, that I was hallucinating. The paramedics told me I was; there wasn't anybody there, they said. Some hikers heard the crash and called when they found my body on the… How could you? How could you?!" "How could I what? Save you? It's kinda my thing, don't you remember?" "No! How—how could you save me and not him? Why didn't you save him, too?" "I tried, Lilie. I did. After I pulled you out of the car and got you to shore, I swam back down to get him. I couldn't pull him out. The belt…it wouldn't come undone. And then I couldn't breathe and I didn't…I didn't know if I would survive without oxygen. I couldn't know; I'd never tested it before. And I wasn't sure if…if you were actually alive. I just pulled you onto the bank and then dove back in. But I couldn't pull him out and…and he was gone anyway. He hit his head on the wheel and…it was too late, Lilie. And I had to make sure you were still…still alive." "But I…I don't matter, Campbell. He did. He was a good man. He loved my mother and…and me. And he helped people, selflessly. And you let him die! Campbell, how could you let him die?!" "I didn't have a choice! All my life I've…well, not all my life. But since you came into it, it seems my whole life has revolved around saving you. The river, those dumb boys, the dog and the car, the car crash—" "—What car crash? I've never been in… Oh! That car crash. I should've known. You were the mysterious motorist who saved them both. Why couldn't you save both of us this time?" "With them, there was time. The wreck wasn't that bad and…and the fire hadn't spread too far. And I didn't know then why…why I felt compelled to stop and help them. I'd never felt that way before. I wasn't all noble and volunteering to be a medic in battle or running into burning houses to rescue kittens. I just tried to stay off the radar my whole life, hoping that no one would notice me, notice that I don't age…or, at least not the conventional way. But that day…it's like I was purposefully driven to that very spot, driven there to rescue you, even though you barely existed at that point. Ever since that day, I stayed close. It's like I knew that…that you would be in danger at some point and…and need me again. And I was right." "Maybe… Or maybe you were meant to save him instead. You should…you should just leave. Just leave. I don't want you here anymore. I don't want you…saving me anymore. Maybe there's a reason I attract so much danger. Maybe I'm not supposed to be here, and you're just messing with the natural order of things. Maybe I'm supposed to die."

* * *

He never knew what would happen if he actually…well, if he was actually seriously injured. See, Campbell wasn’t like most other guys. Beside the fact that he was really, really old, impossibly so, he didn’t have any clue as to why he was the way he was. When I first met him at the tender age of five, I knew he was something special, someone vastly different from anyone I’d ever met in all my vast, knowledgy years. But I couldn’t really put my finger on whatever it was that set him apart from all the other adults I knew, what made him so…almost magical to me. It was no wonder that I fell in love with him on the spot. Even though he was a stranger (and I knew very well because of the diligent drilling of my mother that I was not supposed to talk to strangers), I immediately trusted him, immediately loved him, almost against my will. It wasn’t just because he’d saved me; it was more because there was just something…something indelible about him that spoke to me, called me to like some siren’s song. He used to call me that, too. His “siren.” He said he could always feel when I was in danger, or about to be, always knew just when he was needed. That didn’t stop him from hanging around, watching over me, just in case danger struck when he wasn’t close enough to stop it. The only time he wasn’t nearby was…was when I was seven. No one was nearby then. * * * “You can’t save me from everything, Cam. I’m not like you. I…someday you’re going to try to save me and…and you won’t be able to. You’re gonna have to find a way to—to live with that. Can you? Because…if you were…if something happened to you, and I couldn’t save you…I don’t know what I would— And I’ve had a lot less practice in saving you from imminent danger and/or death at every turn. Maybe you should just…just give up. Just leave me alone and let…let my life take its course.” “Do you know what would happen if I just left you alone to your own devices? You’d be in hospital as soon as I left city limits.” “Don’t make jokes. I’m being serious. I’m not a child anymore, Cam. I know that I have nowhere near the years and experience and subsequent wisdom that you have but…but I’m not a child. I’m not some little girl who doesn’t know anything about the way the world works. I haven’t been that girl since… So, just stop treating me like a child. I’m serious about this, Cam. What happens to you when you can’t save me?” “That won’t happen.” “Campbell, please stop being an idiot. You’re not invincible! Or at least you don’t know for sure that you are. You’ve been too afraid to test, to experiment. Could you save me from a speeding bullet? Would they just bounce off your skin? What about a bomb? Or an explosion? A fire? An avalanche? Something else too ridiculous and unpredictable to stop? I’m the—the ‘Menace Magnet,’ remember? I’m just not safe for other people to be around. You of all people should know that.” “You haven’t managed to kill me yet, though not for want of trying.” “Ha, real funny, Cam.” “Even so, I’m still here. Still alive. And I’m not going anywhere. Not until you stop attracting danger so prolifically. I’m staying around until…until you don’t need me anymore.” “When will that be, Cam? When I’m dead?” * * * The Little Incident took place when I was five years old. As I said before, I was always something of an adventurous child, able to keep up with the seven and eight year old boys’ thirst for danger and general tomfoolery, which was the only reason they let me hang around. Consequently, I rarely played with other little girls my age. My mother always tried to schedule play dates with other neighborhood moms who had daughters my age, but we never got along. I was always intent on trying to climb out the window and shimmy down the tree next to my two-story bedroom window, just to see if I could do it, whereas the girls who were brought ‘round preferred to dress their Barbies in various outfits and enact bizarre plays with them. When I could be persuaded to play with their dolls, I most often found the most outlandish outfit and then tried to use Barbie as a sort of female Indiana Jones (and yes, this was all before the arrival of Lara Croft). However, the other girls didn’t like my games, especially if I tied their Barbies up and had my adventurer rescuing them. They said Ken should do that; I didn’t see why my Barbie couldn’t do whatever I wanted her to. Wasn’t that sort of the point of their little make-believe game? So I often purposefully ruined the dresses my mother forced me to wear so that she would let me change into shorts, a T-shirt, and my favorite scuffed up sneakers before running out to meet with the neighborhood boys to climb trees and build forts and have water balloon fights and other games which were not so innocuous. When I was five, our favorite game became a game of dares and bravery. Derek Grey, who lived about a block down and across the street from me, had a big backyard and a tree house that he and his dad (mostly his dad) built in a large cottonwood. There was a man who lived next door to the Greys’ and shared a fence with them. A large and vaguely frightening man who had been married a few years earlier but turned surly and mean after his wife left him (or so I later found out from the neighborhood gossips that babysat me while my mother was at work). She had left her husband and her home and her dog, a large and loving German Shepherd named Riley. However, Mr. Donovan (the man with the absent wife and present dog), grew very resentful over his wife’s desertion and took his anger out on Riley, beating him and often chaining him up to the dog house out of reach of his water bowl. Riley, once sweet and loving, longingly licking our fingers through the holes in the fence, turned mean and angry, barking at us furiously anytime we came into the yard. We could see what the man was doing, how he was systematically corrupting Riley into a vicious neighborhood threat, but we didn’t know how to tell anyone, how to make him stop. He was so much bigger than us, so much stronger, an adult, someone we were supposed to look up to and respect and not really question. I tried to tell my parents, but my mom just said it was none of our concern and my dad didn’t say anything, although I think he went and talked to Mr. Donovan, but Donovan apparently slammed the door in his face. So Riley stayed in the backyard next to Derek Grey’s and stayed mean. Our new game started out rather innocently. We were all playing kickball one sunny afternoon, using the tree as home base, when someone kicked the ball close to the shared fence. Jimmy Masterson ran over to get it and throw it to the first baseman when Riley started barking like he was having some sort of rabid fit. He clawed at the fence, bit at it, trying to get through. Jimmy was so scared that he peed his pants and ran back to the house without the ball. Riley kept barking, kept clawing and biting, and we all retreated to the back porch. Finally Derek, the oldest of us at nearly nine years old, bravely and slowly approached the fence and retrieved the ball, running back to the rest of us at the porch after sending Riley into another near frenzy with his mere presence. And that is how the game got started. The tree house was always base, just in case Riley ever did escape the confines of the fence, but you had to climb all the way up for it to count. The only rule was to see just how close you could get to the fence amid Riley’s mad barking before you got to scared and ran away. Whoever actually got the guts to touch the fence would be the biggest winner of all (though we never really determined what the prize would be should anyone achieve this goal). The other boys admired me because I could go just as far as the biggest and oldest and bravest of them, though no one ever succeeded in touching the fence. At least, not until the day of my Little Incident. * * * “Were you trying to get yourself killed?! Those boys could’ve…they could’ve killed you, Lilie. And they wouldn’t have cared much if they did. What were you thinking? … Answer me, Lilie. What were you doing?” “I was being a teenager! A dumb, self-centered teenager. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be?” “You know that wasn’t what I meant.” “That was exactly what you meant! What do you want from me? What do you expect me to do? To feel? You always rushing in, rescuing me from every little thing and then…then you expect me not to need you. Not to—to want you. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t…this halfway… Please, Cam, either love me all the way or—or…” “It’s…it’s not that simple, Lil.” “No, it is that simple. It’s as simple as you wanting me and me wanting you. You are the only thing making any of this not simple.” * * * Everything changed when I found out just how involved in my life he had been. Something in me…I couldn’t take it. I snapped and…and I drove him away. The love of my life, and I drove him away. Sent him packing without even a thought for what it would really mean. I guess I didn’t think he would really leave me alone. I thought he wouldn’t listen like always and insist that it was best for my own safety if he stuck around. All the arguing, all the demands, I never really wanted him to leave me. I needed him, and for more than just protection from whatever danger I managed to stumble into. I needed him like cotton crops need rain without hail. But I just had to be stubborn and hurt and stupid. I just had to drive him away. And now he’s gone…for good this time. No coming back. No more salvation. I don’t even care what kind of danger I wander into now. I just want him back. * * * “You’re that certain that we’re meant to be together?” “Yeah. Nothing can keep us apart. Not even death.” “Lilien, you’re only fifteen. You don’t know what you’re saying.” “Yes, I do. I love you, Campbell, and I know it’s crazy. You’re old enough to be—“ “—Your father?” “I’d say you’re a lot older than that.” “That’s crazy. What would possibly make you say that?” “I may be fifteen, Cam, but I’m not stupid. You look exactly the same as you did ten years ago, when you first rescued me. Exactly the same. You haven’t aged a day. Not one day.” “Maybe I just age well.” “Maybe I have a picture of you that’s ten years old where you look exactly the same as you do now. And maybe…maybe I remember every wrinkle, few though they are, on your face from that day. I was pretty close to it for a good long while.” “And you were five…and somewhat traumatized at the time.” “Which only makes my memory sharper. Nothing’s changed. Nothing that should have changed. No extra lines around your eyes, no grey hairs. The only thing that’s different is that you have a light scar on your right forearm. And here I thought that immortals didn’t scar.” “I’m not immortal.” “Really? ‘Cuz I found another picture of you. A daguerreotype. I found it in the library while I was doing research for a school project. It’s a picture from 1816. And you look almost exactly the same as you do now. Maybe a few years difference, but not many. Not 192 years difference anyway.” “Well…that can’t be me then, can it?” “Sure it can. If you’re immortal…which I’m betting you are. My immortal guardian angel. The love of my life.” “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re fifteen. And even if you really believe what you say, that I’m immortal and centuries old, how can you possibly love me after only having met me once?” “Because I do. It’s as simple as that. You’re the love of my life, and you always will be.” * * * I try to stay out of trouble, avoid danger, something very alien to me. But still it finds me. My shoe broke while I was crossing the street yesterday. And not in the normal way, like the heel snapping or a strap popping off. No, it just…sorta fell apart. In the middle of the street. I looked around, saw no cars, so I started gathering up shoe bits, and then suddenly there’s honking horns and swerving cars and I’m dashing for the sidewalk, scraping up my knees and elbows. And there was no Campbell there to warn me, or pull me to safety. I just had to…save myself. Like I said, a bit of an alien concept. * * * “Your turn, Lilie. Betcha can’t do better than me.” “Shut up, Jimmy! Can so. You just watch. At least I won’t break the tree house ladder climbing up like a bitty baby like you did.” “Shut up! I dare you to touch the fence this time. I double dare you.” “I will! And I don’t need to be dared to do it.” “Come on, Lilie, why don’t you do it already?” “Yeah, Lilie, you’re supposed to be all brave. You’re shakin’ like you’re gonna cry.” “Am not, Robert! I can do this. I can do this. Just go up to the fence, touch it, and run away to the tree house. Then I can laugh at Jimmy with the rest of the boys and finally show ‘em that I’m the bravest one of all. Here I go. Just touch the fence and then I’m the—oh! Oh no!” “Lilie, run! Run! Riley’s breaking the fence! RUN!” “Run, Lilie!” “Run!” “Ruuuuunnnnnn!!!!!” “Daddy! DADDY! Help! Help me! Daddy! Just run, just run for the house. Then Daddy will make the doggie go away. Daddy!!!!! Ah! Ow, ow, ow!!!! Stop it! Stop it, Riley! Stop biting! Stop—owwwwwwww!!!” “It’s okay, Lilie. It’s okay. Come on, the dog’s gone now. Hold on tight, okay?” “Ow, ow, I hurt all over. Riley bit me, mister, and it hurts.” “I bet. Here, let me look at it…yeah, that’s pretty bad. Are you okay otherwise?” “I guess so. What happened to Riley?” “No, no, don’t look!” “Oh, poor Riley. He got hit by that car.” “Well, better him than you, Lilien.” “How do you know my name, mister? I don’t know you.” “Don’t try to get up. It’ll just hurt your leg. I’m friends with one of your neighbors, and I came by to visit them. I was just leaving when I saw you running from that dog.” “Yeah, and then I fell down and he bit me and it hurt! And then you grabbed me and picked me up and pulled me out of the street and saved me from Riley…and from that car. I woulda gotten hit by the car just like Riley if you hadn’t of saved me. Thank you.” “You’re awfully serious and eloquent for a five year old.” “How did you know how old I am?” “Uh…my friend, your neighbor, he told me.” “Oh, okay.” “Are you feelin’ all right?” “Yeah, ‘cept for my leg. You know, you talk real funny, mister.” “It only sounds funny ‘cause you’ve never heard a Scottish accent before.” “You sound like Daddy’s favorite spy.” “That is a high compliment, thanks. You sure you’re all right?” “Yeah, but you could kiss it and make it better. That’s what Daddy always does, even though Momma says it doesn’t really make it better, but I always feel better once Daddy’s kissed me. So you could try—“ “—Lilie! Lilien, what happened?! Oh my God, look at your leg! What did you do to my little girl?!” “Momma! He didn’t hurt me; Riley did. And then he got hit by that car.” “Baby, are you all right?” “Yeah, Daddy, I’m fine. This man saved me from Riley and that car over there. He’s my hero.” “It was nothing, really, sir.” “You saved our little girl’s life. I’d say that’s significantly more than nothing.” “She probably needs to go to the emergency room to get those bites treated, and she might need a rabies shot. And you should probably have them check her for shock because she’s handling all this a little too well for a five year old.” “Right. Thanks again. Have we…have we met before?” “No, I don’t think so. I’ve just got one of those faces.” “Thank you so much, sir. Is there anything we could do to repay you?” “No, ma’am, I just did what any other person would’ve done.” “You should at least let us take you out to dinner. Tomorrow night maybe?” “No, that’s all right. I didn’t do anything really special. Besides I’m leaving town tomorrow morning. And here are the ambulances so you can take her to a doctor and get her checked out. And you, little girl, you should be more careful from now on. Stop getting chased by manic dogs.” “I didn’t mean to get chased. And it’s never happened before!” “Right, well, you be careful from now on.” “I will. You never told me your name, mister.” “…Campbell. My name is Campbell.” * * * His name is Campbell, and he’s the love of my life. That sounds stupid, I know, but it’s true. And I know that I’m only fifteen, but sometimes you just know things, you know? You just know that he’s the right guy for you, the only guy. So you do anything to keep him near, even get into all sorts of scrapes and trouble so that he’ll keep saving you. But sometimes…sometimes the saving doesn’t always go all that well. Sometimes he just can’t see you as anything other than a child, a little girl who can’t seem to take care of herself no matter how many warnings are issued. I bet if he knew how often I deliberately seek out trouble just so he can come rescue me, he’d be sooooo furious. But I don’t care. I’ll do anything to keep him near. I’d run out in the middle of traffic, get in a fight, go skydiving and bungee-jumping! Anything. Even take a bullet. But I can’t let him know that; he would be really angry. * * * “Cam…Campbell, please. Please… Oh God…oh please, please don’t leave me. What am I supposed to do…what am I supposed to do without you here to protect me? What am I supposed to do without you? Just hold on. Just hold on! We’re almost there, baby, almost to the hospital. Just…don’t die. Please. You’re not supposed to die…I am. You’re supposed to live forever, remember? See everything, save other people who are accident prone, other ‘Menace Magnets.’ Fall in love with some other girl even though she’s way too young for you. Campbell…come on. Don’t you give up on me! … Don’t close your eyes. Please, Campbell, please…” “Ma’am…ma’am…he’s…he’s gone.” “No. No! No! Campbell, no! Do something! Save him! Please, I can’t…oh, God, please…save him! Don’t let him die! Don’t you dare!” “Ma’am! Please, stop—you’re being hysterical. Stop! Stop hitting him. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing we can do. Ma’am, please, stop hitting the body. Mark, I’m gonna need some help back here. Ma'am, stop hitting the body!” “Don’t say that! Don’t call him ‘the body.’ His name is Campbell. I love him and he loves me…but he only just admitted it so he can’t be gone. He can’t. I’ve waited nineteen years for him to love me back and he can’t be gone now. Keep trying, please…please. He can survive, I know it! He’s been alive for centuries, you know. He looks thirty but he’s really 450 years old. Or somewhere around there. It’s hard to calculate. But he can’t die. He can’t. He—he—he met Shakespeare and George Washington and Wyatt Earp, so he can’t be dead now. There are more famous people to meet and…and I need him. Without him I’ll end up in a coma or—or dead in a ditch somewhere. Please…do something. Save him! Save him!” “Ma’am, stop! Mark! Mark, get back here now. Pull the damn bus over and get back here!” “Campbell, Cam, please wake up! Please…” “Give her a sedative, Mark! I don’t know how much longer I can hold her.” “No, no! Please, help him. Help Campbell. Don’t let him die! Please…please…ple…” “She’s out. Thanks man. She was really flipping out. Did you hear the things she was saying about this guy?” “Whatever happened to the two of them must have put her into major shock. She’ll probably be fine in a few—What the hell?!” * * * I didn’t mean to get into trouble that night. In fact, I had done a pretty good job lately at avoiding the danger that usually followed me like an attention-starved puppy. I made sure to wear sensible shoes (absolutely no heels) and loose-fitting clothing that I could easily run in, I always kept my cell-phone on, I always walked to my car with my keys (and keychain sized mace) in one hand and a small flashlight in the other, and I made it a habit to drive with my seatbelt on about ten miles below the posted speed limit. And I had so far avoided any car crashes, falls off cliffs, or run-ins with rabid animals. But then…then danger came, tracked me down, and pounced on me. It started out like any other night, the frenetic walk from my parking space to the apartment building, the rush into the elevator and pound of the third floor button simultaneously with the “close door” button, the half-sprint to my apartment door, heavy car key clenched between my fore- and middle-finger like one of Wolverine’s claws, as I steadfastly ignored the noise of shouts and heated argument from the apartment next to the elevator, the shouts that come loud and clear through thin walls every night just as I get back home from work. Luckily my apartment is at the other end of the hall, near the stairwell, far enough away to drown out the sound. I should probably be smart and take the stairs since they’re closer to my apartment than the elevator, get some exercise and avoid the noise of the fighting couple in 1302, but the lights in the stairwell always blink as if they’re about to go out…and sometimes people hang out in them, trading things, propositioning things, staring at me predatorily as I rush by avoiding eye contact. So I take the elevator, figuring the shouts and occasional shuddering of the walls are a better trade-off than any possible unpleasantry that might occur in the stairwell. One day the scales are in your favor…and the next day they’re not. On this night, they were not. * * * “Get back in here, you rotten bastard!” “I am through talkin’, Shelly. This is it! I am not stayin’ here, listenin’ to you yell at me night after night, constantly paranoid that I’m out with some other woman when I’m not home.” “Well, that’s where you are, and don’t bother to deny it!” “No, you crazy bitch! For the last time, I am not cheatin’ on you! Though who could possibly blame me if I was, mean as you are. No, when I’m out I’m workin’, tryin’ to help pay for all the goddamn liquor you put away every night. Well, I am done puttin’ up with your crazy shit and done puttin’ up with you. I’m gone, Shelly.” “You’re damn right you’re gone! You won’t be running around on me…or anyone else anymore. You’ll be gone for good after I’m done with you!” “Baby, baby, what are you doin’? Just—just put the gun down and we’ll talk about this. Come on, baby, let’s just…you don’t want to do this. Not with this nice young girl standin’ at the end of the hall watchin’.” “I don’t care who’s watchin’, you good for nothin’ asshole. She’s probably one of the whores you been runnin’ around with. Let her watch! I’m done with you and all the grief you bring me.” “No, Shelly, NO!!!” “Get down, Lilie! For God’s sake, GET DOWN!!!” “Cam…Campbell, no. What—what were you thinking? You’re not supposed to save me anymore, remember?” “Vaguely, but I kinda ignored that. Good thing, too. You would’ve gotten shot just now if not for me.” “Yeah, instead you got shot. But you’re gonna be all right. We’re gonna call an ambulance. You! Sir, please, call 911.” “I think—“ “Dammit, just call 911!” “You really don’t have to yell at the guy, Lil. He’s just stunned. It’s not every—uh—every day that you see someone get shot right outside your door.” “Just be quiet, Cam. Don’t strain yourself. I should…I need to stop the bleeding. I need—here, I’ll use my jacket. Here’s where all my training comes in handy.” “Wh—what training?” “My ‘Menace Magnet’ training. I should know a good bit about triage by now, don’t you think?” “It’s a—agh! Ah, that…that hurts.” “Sorry.” “It’s a stomach wound. Those are almost always fatal.” “You don’t know that!” “I’ve learned a bit about wounds and triage, too, Lil.” “Really, how’s that? Are you some kind of expert even though you’ve never been really wounded?” “No, but I’ve watched a fair amount of ER and old war movies.” “Right, ‘cuz TV and movies are always totally factual.” “Sometimes they are. Stomach wounds are supposed to be the worst, aren’t they?” “It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna be fine. I’m still gonna need a lot more saving, you know?” “Whatever you’re doing, I think it’s working. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. I don’t think I can feel it at all. Wait…isn’t that supposed to be bad?” “I’m sure it’s fine. Just hold on, Campbell, please. Where is the damn ambulance?!” “They say they’re on their way, miss. Is there…can I do anything else to—to help?” “Yeah, maybe some towels or something for the…the bleeding. I need to…I have to stop this bleeding.” “I want…I have to tell you something, Lilien. Something important. But I—I can’t think of it right now. My head feels so…I can’t think straight.” “Don’t worry about it, Cam. You can tell me whatever it is later, when you’re feeling better.” “I don’t…don’t know if I’ll be feeling better, Lil.” “Yes, you will! Don’t talk like that. You’re gonna be fine. The ambulance is almost here and they’re gonna fix you and you’re gonna keep saving me and I’ll keep loving you and we’ll just make the best of the time we have. Please, just hold on, baby. Just—“ “—This sounds cliché but…but is it getting dark in here?” “No, Cam, it’s still—" “—I can’t…I can’t see your face anymore, Lil. I can’t…” “I’m still here, Cam. I’m…just hold on, please.” “Is this it? Is this the end?” “No, no, no! Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. You’re gonna be fine; you’re not going to…you can’t…please…please don’t…” “I—I love…I…” “No! Please—please don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t you dare! Don’t…don’t…oh, God…please…don’t do this to me…please…” *** When I opened my eyes, the world was not as I had thought it would be. There were no glaringly bright hospital lights or claustrophobic hospitals walls surrounding me, no nurse or doctor checking my vitals or whatever it is they busy themselves with; instead, there was a clear night sky full of stars staring down at me, that distinct smell of snow in the air even though it had just recently turned cold and was far too early for such weather, and I could vaguely see a man’s slightly strained face rising and falling above me in a very odd fashion. It took me a second to reconcile what I was seeing with the last thing I remembered. The ambulance, the paramedics, …Campbell. “Campbell…Cam, what’s…how…I don’t…” “Shh, it’s okay, Lilie. You’re fine; we’re both fine.” He had slowed down, coming to a stop before gingerly laying me down on the ground. He brushed my hair from my face, smiling reassuringly as I took in the trees and well-manicured grass. “Where…where are we?” “That park you always talked about going walking in but never actually did…thank goodness. You probably wouldn’t gotten abducted or at the very least mugged. It was close and I figured the most inconspicuous place we could be since it’s late and no one’s here. How do you feel?” “Woozy and confused. What about you? You were…you were…” “Yeah, I was. Guess you were right all along after all. Though I think I can go another 400 years without having to find that out in such a vivid way.” “What happened? The last thing I remember the paramedics were…they said they couldn’t save you. You were gone. You were gone! And then I freaked out and they sedated me. And…how did this happen? You just woke up?” “Yeah, it gave those paramedics quite a shock. One of them fainted dead away…pardon my speech, and the other one…well, I had to knock him out to get the both of us away. I figured we probably shouldn’t go to hospital what with my new exciting talents. I don’t exactly fancy being some sort of E.T. government experiment.” “So…so what does this mean?” “I am…immortal, I guess.” “Ugh, thank you Christopher Lambert.” “No need to be exasperated, luv. It is what you predicted several years ago, you know.” “I meant, what does this mean for us? What happens now? I can’t exactly go back to my apartment and my job and my life without having to answer some pretty tough questions…unless you just want me to say I just woke up here alone and have no idea what happened in the ambulance after they sedated me.” “Why would I want you to do that?” “So you could…could go back to whatever it is you’ve been doing since I told you to leave me alone.” “Lilien, despite your usual intuitiveness and intelligence, sometimes you can be completely daft. If I was off doing something other than what I’ve made my job since before you were born, do you think I would’ve been there tonight to save you?” “I just thought you’d had one of your bad feelings and known I would need major rescuing.” “I’ve been here, the whole time, watching you, making sure you didn’t need ‘major rescuing’. I never actually left, just…I pretended that I had to make you happy. You have no idea how hard it was to sit back and watch you almost get hurt and not…not intervene. But this time I couldn’t. I knew there was no way you would…come out of that alive if I didn’t do something. And you were right: I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” “So you decided to test your longevity by throwing yourself in front of a speeding bullet for me? Thanks a whole bunch, Superman.” “No, I…I thought that was it for me. I knew I could be injured so I thought…I didn’t want to try and live in this world if you weren’t in it. So I figured I’d already had plenty of time to live and experience the world.” I pushed myself off of the ground, brushing past Campbell and steadying myself on a tree, ignoring his hands. “What’s wrong, Lilie?” “You’re an idiot, that’s what wrong!” “What?” “You figured it was best to kill yourself?” “I wasn’t exactly alone in the murder attempt if you remember.” “What if you—you hadn’t come back? What would I…you thought it would be easier for me to lose you than for you to lose me? That’s…that’s ridiculous. I don’t want a life if you’re not in it. Don’t…don’t you ever do anything like that to me again!” “I wasn’t planning on it!” “Besides, what the hell would I have done if you had actually…what would’ve happened the next time I was shot at or nearly run over by a speeding car and you weren’t…” “Is that all you want me for? Saving you from your stupid mishaps? Is that all I’m good for?” “What other reason do you have for sticking around other than your insane need to protect the basically unprotectable?” “Because I love you, you idiot!” Before I consciously remember making the decision, I was suddenly kissing him just as I had always wanted to kiss him but never had because he was always pushing me away or because I was afraid of him rejecting me. Campbell seemed stunned by my sudden turn, but this time he didn’t push me away or tell me it was wrong or a bad idea (perhaps because I was kissing him so forcefully). When I finally pulled back, he finally seemed just as disconcerted and flustered as I usually felt after being in his presence. “I’ve been waiting a really long time for you to say that.” “Sorry to keep you waiting. If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to say it for a really long time. And I’m planning to keep saying it for as long as you want to hear it…if that’s all right with you.” “What happens when…when I get older and it starts to look weird that I’m dating a much younger man?” “Then we move somewhere no one knows us, or somewhere isolated, and just live our lives as best we can. We’ll just see where that takes us for now.” “Good enough for me.” He swept me up into his arms again, surprising a laugh from me. “I think I can walk on my own, Cam.” “Absolutely not. You are far too accident prone; you might trip and inadvertently cause my death again. That was bad enough the first time.” “Don’t joke about that! And really I can walk on my own.” “I’m not taking any chances with you, ‘Menace Magnet’. I plan to make the best of the time we have together. Now where to?” “Well, I always wanted to see Scotland. It does hold a certain charm for me.” “Easier said than done. You don’t exactly have your passport on your person, do you?” “I figured you’d know more covert ways to travel.” “Maybe I do, but they’re not exactly pleasant.” “As long as we’re together, I don’t care.” “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I love you, Lilien.” “I love you, too, Campbell. Any chance you’re ever gonna tell me your full name?” “Hmm…maybe.” _____________________________________________________ Works Cited and Consulted Schwartz, Stephen. “In Whatever Time We Have.” Children of Eden: Highlights. RCA Victor Broadway, 1998.Niffenegger, Audrey. The Time Traveler’s Wife. Orlando: Harcourt Books, 2003.