Chapter 21

February 18, 1947

Ming Na Liu

Ming stared at the blank page. Last night, the rush of the fight had driven all the thoughts from her head. Sitting in the morning sunlight, they flooded back. Writing was her shield. It usually helped her understand the world, putting everything into perspective. If only she could start with the first word.

Escaping from Bugsy Siegel, tossing Steven into the desert, and almost getting raped twice. Ming tapped the broken pencil on the page, and her thoughts drifted back to the source of it all.

Magic.

There was no way magic existed. There was a logical reason for everything. Even her first story about the doctor thrown from his car. He survived because that dune cushioned his impact. There was no magic involved, she was sure.

After they came home, Bobby grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet and went to bed. Ming tried to sleep but moved to the table and sat. If Bobby's plans worked, they would be home. Jessica might survive, but Catherine was dead. She was only walking around because of Bobby's soul. When they left this time, Jessica would be alone.

Maybe this was magic, but it was also time travel. Ming could do something to make Jessica's life better than it was. Every movie she'd watched on the subject said to be careful of a paradox, but they'd already beaten Bugsy Siegel and brought these two back to life. Paradox had sailed.

"What are you doing?" Bobby groaned as she stumbled through the door. Her hair was a mess, and she smelled a little sour. Ming had already heard her throwing up in the bathroom.

"Trying to decide what to leave, Jessica," Ming said, tapping the pencil on the pad of paper. She wanted to give her some information about the future, but didn't want to change the future too much.

"Nothing would be a good choice. The less we interfere, the better." Bobby sat at the table, stretched her legs under it and closed her eyes.

"I can't do that," Ming said, slapping the pencil on the table. "What happens if this fails? If we can't get home?"

Bobby was silent for a moment and replied, "Then we stay here, live out our lives and die in this time." She stood up. "Or, we do what Slazney is doing and leap from body to body, causing more trouble." Putting on the kettle, Bobby started making some coffee. "It's too tempting to use this kind of power, but you heard Kansas Joe. He's met others like us, but have you ever heard of him?"

Ming shook her head.

"He was pretty famous when he was alive, but most regular people have forgotten about him. That's because he didn't use his gifts to overwrite nature. Everything has a purpose, even if we don't know what it is. Whatever reality is, it doesn't like being trifled with and will bite back." Bobby poured herself some coffee and sat down. "The code is dangerous, unpredictable and impossible to control, addictive, drawing you in to use it. It's like catching chaos in a bottle. It never lasts."

Ming got her own coffee and returned to the notebook.

"I know how difficult this must be. Things will work out." Bobby put her hand on Ming's shoulder and squeezed. She took a sip of the coffee and smiled. "Let's get ready. We have to meet with the person Kansas Joe recommended in a couple of hours."

"Slazney. Do you know who he is?"

"Not really." Bobby shrugged. "I've never heard of the name before going to the pharmacist, but if I had to guess, based on what's happened, it's probably my fuck-up twin brother. I'm guessing he screwed up somewhere."

Ming gulped her coffee, some of it spilling down her chin. "Why do you think that?"

"There are very few people who know how to use the code. My brother was one of them. He couldn't do much with it, but he could copy it. I wouldn't be surprised if he was carrying a buggy version with him, and his death was an act. If he was the Slazney I met, then he wasn't firing on all cylinders. The American who got me out of Russia said my brother was gone. I never expected he meant literally, but it makes sense. I never trusted that guy. Anyone who'd wear a Metallica T-shirt is a two-faced liar."

"Is he really Slazney?" Ming asked.

"Like I said, I don't know. Just going on my gut." Bobby stood up, took a swig of the coffee and left Ming at the table, staring at the page.

✦

"Are you feeling better?" Ming was still sitting at the table when Bobby came back from the shower. Ming had written a few things but scrunched them up and tossed them aside. Most of the page was still blank. Bobby smiled and said, "I still remember my first time travelling..."

The front door shook. Both Bobby and Ming jerked at the sound of someone pounding.

"Open up, Catherine! I know you're in there. I forgot my key," the voice continued to pound on the door. "I heard what happened at the club, Catherine. You won't be getting away from this one."

Bobby moved the curtain covering the window. A police officer was standing there. He was blond, taller than Jessica and pounding on the door.

"Who is he?" Ming asked, sliding up next to her.

Shrugging her shoulders, Bobby opened the door. "Who the fuck are you?" The man shoved past her and stomped into the kitchen. He had broad shoulders and a short two-day stubble on his square chin.

"What kind of game are you trying to pull here, Catherine? Even if we're divorced, you know who I am." He stepped over to Ming. "When I heard the news, I hurried back." He held out his arms. "No hug for your father?"

"Daddy?" Ming said, jumping into his arms. "Where've you been?" Her eyes were bugging out. Where had he been the last two nights? He mentioned a divorce.

"I had extra duty taking that convict to Arizona, remember?" He kissed her on the cheek. "When I get back here, I find a report by Bugsy Siegel describing two women he wants found. He's keeping it quiet, but three of his men are in the hospital. One had his balls almost crushed."

"What's that got to do with us?" Bobby said, crossing her arms. She sounded nervous, her voice shaking. Ming held on tight to her father. This man could spoil everything. And being a policeman made it that much more difficult to get away from him.

He grimaced and moved away from Ming. "I recognized the dress and the description of the two of you first. Bugsy has enough men on his payroll in the force to track you down." He poured himself a coffee and opened a flask. Ming smelt the whisky as he poured some in. "Now, what did you do?" He pointed the coffee cup at Bobby, spilling some on the floor.

"Fuck!"

The father slammed the cup on the table and loomed in front of Bobby. "You've never used that kind of language in front of me when we were married. I ignored the first one, but I can't this time. What happened to you?" He grabbed Bobby by the shoulders and pushed her back. "What are you doing with Jessica?"

Bobby glared up at the man and shoved her finger into his chest, forcing him to step back. "We're divorced! What gives you the right to barge in here like this?"

He raised his hands. "I---"

Bobby continued to push him backward with her finger. "Furthermore, the fact you know what Bugsy is after tells me you're on his payroll as well, right?"

"Yes, but I---"

Joining her, Ming picked up his coffee cup and dropped it into the sink. It shattered. "I expected better of you, Daddy," she said, remembering how her own father would ignore her after the accident. Fathers usually had a soft spot for their children. "Why'd you take money from that bastard?"

"Jessica! How dare you use that kind of language when speaking to your father?" he said, stepping forward.

Shoving him into the chair, Bobby leaned directly in his face. "You will tell us exactly what Bugsy knows about us before I get angry." She cracked her knuckles.

"Yes, Daddy," Ming added. "Please!" Her fingers were twitching.

✦

"Are you sure he's your husband?" Ming asked Bobby. "What's his name?"

"Jack. I didn't recognize him at first, but yeah. I found some pictures in a box in her closet when I was looking into Catherine," Bobby said, closing the door to the bathroom. "They were divorced two years ago. He's a deadbeat, but she never wrote anything bad about him. Just that he drank too much."

Ming put her hand on the bathroom door. "Will he be okay in there?"

"He should be fine. If he's anything like Steven, he'll get out soon. I wish they had zip-ties in this time. They make it so much easier." Bobby shrugged. "Anyway, by the time he gets free, we should be gone." Bobby turned, "If Jack was telling the truth, they'll be looking for us. He didn't want to give us up, so we have a small head start, but get ready. We'll leave in twenty minutes," Bobby said, tossing Jack's keys in the air and walking away. "We can use his car."

Ming stared at the bathroom door for a few moments and turned away. She needed to finish the letter to Jessica and maybe leave one for Dean, too. Just in case.

✦

"We're here," Bobby said, turning off the car.

Ming put her pencil away and folded the paper. She put it in an envelope and placed it in her bag.

"Are you sure about that thing?" Bobby pointed to the letter.

"Yes. I have to do something. This is her life, and she let me use it. I can't just abandon her. Besides, don't you need somebody to activate the computer?" she asked.

Bobby scoffed. "I don't expect that'll happen. If Barbie could have done it, we'd already be out of here by now. It's been three days. We have about three or four more before we're stuck here. After twenty-four hours there, it's permanent."

"You said that before. What do you mean?"

Bobby shrugged, "Every four hours there is about a day here."

Ming got out of the car and looked at the motel to stop her hands from shaking. "The Sunnyside. I've been here before." She pointed to the second floor. "That was where Dean's wife was holed up after she accused him of rape," she said. She looked around the parking lot. It was old and dusty, but there wasn't the drug-like feel it had in the future. It was still new, with a fresh coat of paint. "It's almost comfortable here."

"Don't get used to it." Bobby pointed to room 204. "That's where we have to go."

"You're kidding with me, right?" Ming said, her eyebrows shooting up. "It's the same room."

"Coincidence?" Bobby said, leading the way up the stairs. At room 204, she pounded on the door. It opened just a crack. Music blared out.

"What do you want?" a voice said over the jazz. It was similar to the music she'd heard last night but with a faster beat. Ming couldn't make out his face, but he sounded young.

"Kansas Joe McCoy sent us here. He said you could help us."

The sun was rising high into the sky. The heat pounded down on them, giving Ming a headache. Even so, she was shivering. When the door opened fully, a blast of ice went down to her bones. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to keep warm.

"Sorry," the voice stepped back. "Come in."

A young black teenager wearing a winter jacket and a knit hat held the door open. His breath formed a cloud in the air. "The air conditioner is set too low," she said, stomping her feet to get some circulation going. Bobby was holding her hands in front of her face, blowing into them.

"Who's the newb?" the boy asked.

"She's not used to what can be done with power," Bobby said, pointing to Ming. She turned to Ming. "He's an apprentice." He turned back to the teen. "Kansas Joe's?"

The teen nodded.

"This is his studio," Bobby continued, waving his arm around the room.

Ming looked around the room and tried to remember what it looked like in sixty years. The basic design was the same. Two beds, a table between them and a lamp with a dresser and TV on one side and a table with two chairs on the other. Just the colour and the furnishings had changed. She narrowed her eyes at Bobby. "I get it. He's Mickey Mouse. Can we move on?"

"Hey! You watch it there, bitch. I ain't no Mickey!" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Ming.

"S-s-s-s-orry. C-c-c-c-could you please turn up the heat?" Her teeth were chattering, and her fingers were turning blue.

"Yeah, sorry." The boy went over to the stereo and turned off the music. "I'm trying something new and needed to keep it localized." He started removing his clothes and laid them on the bed. With the music gone, the room soon heated up.

The air conditioner conked and sputtered. The boy hit it with his fist and kicked the side. It sputtered twice more and started humming.

"Thank you," Ming said, jumping up and down. "How old are you? What's your name?"

"I'm seventeen. Thank you very much." The teen just sneered at her and didn't give his name. "You, Bobby?" he asked.

"That's me," Bobby said. "This is Jessica, but you can call her Ming. Kansas Joe said you could help us."

The teen put his finger to his lips and started tapping. "Depends. I got a source for the power you need, but do you have the circle?"

"Circle?" Ming asked.

"The code," Bobby said, "Yes, that's no problem." Bobby pulled a wad of papers from her purse and gave it to the teen. He started checking them over on the chair in the corner.

There were a bunch of other papers on the table with similar markings. The code. Magic. She was beginning to understand how strange the world was. Turning and looking out the window, she wrapped her arms around herself. Closing her eyes, she remembered what Dean told her about his gut feeling.

✦

"It's hard to explain. You know how when you put a sentence down on paper, and there is something about it that doesn't feel natural?" Dean asked.

"Yes, usually when I haven't had enough coffee to wake me up," Ming replied, sipping her coffee in the diner.

"That's my gut," Dean said, lighting a cigarette. "I don't know why it's doing what it's doing, but I can usually follow what it's telling me I need to do."

Ming narrowed her eyes and tapped her pen on the paper. "I see. So, when you saw the doctor helping your wife..." she trailed off.

"I knew he was her lover, and that they had set me up for rape," Dean said, hitting the table. He cringed when the server glared at him, but didn't apologize.

Ming wrote all this down. "You know a gut feeling isn't admissible in court." She stared at Dean's face. It had gotten older since the last time they'd seen each other, but she could still see the boy who'd helped her out. She wanted to believe in his gut, but instinct couldn't trump facts.

Dean scoffed. "I know. They threw my last case out because I testified with that. The D.A. was pissed."He smiled.

"Do you have any evidence of their affair or the set-up?" she asked. "That's what will win you the case." She'd already found a paper trail and a lead to a motel, but needed to know what he'd found.

He smiled and pulled out a thumb drive. "Found this in my house after I was released on bail. Thought I'd lost it, or the wife took it, but it has everything you need." He put it on the table.

"What's on it?" Ming asked.

"Pictures. My gut told me to set up a camera in the house when things started going missing, and that's what I did. Thought I'd catch some kids rifling through my stuff. I wasn't prepared for what it really was. Good audio too." He winced and took a sip of some coffee. "When I heard what they said, I'm afraid I went off the deep end a bit. It's what got me arrested. The wife found the recording and destroyed the original. Glad I made a backup and stored it in my smokes." He inhaled and let out a cloud of smoke. "She hated the things."

"She's not the only one," Ming said, waving her hand to drive away the smell. "Why are you telling me all of this? I'm a reporter, and you broke the nose of the last one you were talking to."

Dean took another sip of his coffee and stared at her. "There's something about you, something I remember from when I was young. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I trust you. You won't do me wrong."

✦

Ming opened her eyes and started chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Bobby said.

"Just remembering something." She stared out the window, and three cars pulled into the parking lot. Several tough-looking men got out and pointed to the second floor. "Bobby, we have trouble," Ming said, pointing out the window.

"What?" Bobby came and moved the curtains. "Fuck! That's Bugsy! How the fuck did he find us?" Bobby turned away from the window just as a shot filled the lot and the window shattered, throwing her across the bed.

Ming spun back to the window. Bugsy, with a bandage across his nose, lowered a gun.