Back in her time (9 page)

“This your web pack, corporal?” asked one of the patrol after they had reunited with the regiment.

Taylor rummaged through the kit. “Hey, thanks. Where did you find it?”

“One of the Krauts had it with his gear. He must have retrieved it when it fell out of that jeep they blew up on you.”

“Thanks, buddy. Pops — I mean, Sarge — let me get a picture. Here's the camera I took off that German back at that church. Private, would you take our picture?”

Sarge and Taylor stood side by side in front of the captain's tent, after they had given their report. Taylor smiled when the sergeant put his arm around his shoulder.
This is the picture I found in the attic. Now I have to take some of Red, Whitey, and Mac, and the other guys in our unit to complete the set.

* * *

The soldiers sat around a small fire. Word was out that the enemy was in full retreat. This would be their last big rest stop before chasing after them. After a full meal of fairly fresh meat, vegetables scrounged from somewhere, and cups of rum, the men were satiated. Taylor was sitting with a small group including Mac and Red.

Mac whispered in Taylor's ear, “It all happened the way you predicted, Junior.”

Red, sitting next to them, overheard. “I'm starting to believe you can see the future, too,” he said.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know what a relief it is to hear you say that.” Taylor leaned back and sipped her rum.

“You told Red all about that Calgary Stampede stuff in the future. So it's true I'm going to be a successful stock market trader? Is that what you called it?”

“It's really true, guys. I need to explain how I know all this. It's gonna be kind of hard to understand. I don't quite understand myself. I'm not from this — ”

“Corporal Junior, the Sarge is looking for you,” Swampy gestured toward a derelict shack.

“Guys, I'll talk to you later.” Taylor strode over to the building and peeked in.

“Yes, Sarge?”

“Inside, Junior.” When they were seated on some empty wine barrels Sarge stared at Taylor and waited.

This is it. Gawd, I hope I can explain it.
“Sarge, I know you're wondering how I knew we'd be captured and I'd get away and swim across that river and find the troops and come — ”

“Take a breath, Junior. Slow down, now.”

“Yes, sir.”
Here goes nothing.
“I'm not psychic or a whatever-you-call-it — a seer. I know these things because you told me years from now. You see, Sarge, you turn out to be my grandfather back in my time, which is your future. [
Does this make sense?
] That's why I always call you Pops, my nickname for you because you like soft classical music. I don't know how I got here. I was as surprised as you when I showed up in that slit trench with you back when we first met. Last time I saw you, back in my time, you were a sick ol' … Somehow I'm here in this guy Reid's body. My name isn't Thomas Reid, it's Taylor Wilson. My first name is your last name. Get it? I think I'm a descendant of this Reid, that's why I look like him.

“Somehow I came to be in his body, maybe so I'd get to know him 'cause he's my ancestor. I didn't know anything about him. I'm adopted in my time, you see?”

Sarge sat still. He stared hard at Taylor thinking. “So you're not a Jerry spy who arranged that little capture back there?”

Taylor's face went ashen. “No, sir. I'm no spy. I'm trapped in this war with you somehow, that's all.”

“It's a little hard to swallow, Junior — ah, Taylor. Let me see if I understand. You came here out of nowhere from the future where you're how old? This age?” Taylor nodded. “You somehow travelled through time to Italy from where?”

“Toronto, sir. I live in Toronto, but visit you in London, Ontario.”

“So what are you doing back in your time right now?”

“Sir, I don't know. My time there seems all fuzzy. This is more real to me right now with you. I don't know if I disappeared there or what. But ask me anything about your family. Back there you told me all kinds of things I'd need to know back here in your time. In fact, you trained me yourself with guns. That's why I'm such a good shot.

“Ask me something, anything about your family, about your future.”

Sarge sat still for several seconds, thinking. “Where are my brothers, Sam and Edward?”

“Eddie, he's called. He hates being called Edward. He's posted over here somewhere, driving ambulances. You'll run into him after you get to Rome, which the Yanks take credit for, by the way. Politics or something. Sam is stationed back in Toronto, stuck in a warehouse. He isn't very happy. You probably have received letters from him. He told me back in my time how they wouldn't let him come overseas since you and Eddie were already here. It would upset your mother if the three of you got killed. It's okay, though, you and Eddie make it through. Oh, but ask Eddie about that scar on his arm. He doesn't like to talk about it, though.” Taylor stopped and gulped air as if she had been swimming again.

“What does my father do for a living?”

“He's a farmer like you. You take over the family farm when he di — ”

“And what about my sisters? What can you tell me about them?”

“The oldest, Margaret, is married, and let's see … she gives birth to her oldest right after the war. Uncle David, her son, told me that. Helen doesn't ever marry but stays on the farm and looks after your parents. Oh, and your little brother Herman loves pianos. He becomes a piano finisher and leaves the farm. He lives in Montreal now. Married a French girl. Oh, I guess this is all in the future. What can I tell you about right now?”

“What kind of jobs did I have before I took over the farm?”

“Remember I told you before that you were educated? You attended the University of Guelph for a year and took agriculture. Oh, that was after the war, too. What did you do before the war? I know! When you were courting Mary, you worked at the Hardware and Feed store in London, Ontario, on Ridout Street. That's where you two met. Right? Right?”

“All right. You've got one for sure. And you do know my siblings' names.”

“You have to admit it yourself, Pops — I mean, Sarge — that you don't talk about anything personal. How else could I know this stuff?”

“Records. I still think you might have worked or known someone in records.”

Taylor frowned.
What can I tell him that will convince him I'm who I say I am?

“Those times you cited me for bravery, remember? I wasn't courageous. I knew that things would turn out 'cause you told me back in my time what would happen. The whole time I was swimming across that river, with bullets whizzing by, I knew I'd make it and get back to rescue you, 'cause the older you told me.” Taylor looked at her grandfather, expectantly.

“Say I believe you. What is going to happen here next? You mention Rome. Before Rome, there's Ceccano. What can you tell me about that?”

“We're not going to get through this unscathed. There will be injuries and deaths, but we'll send the enemy running. I should have listened to you better when you talked to me about it. I thought you were hallucinating that I was in the war with you. But, you knew. 'Cause I told you. AM telling you right now!”

“Okay, Junior, calm down. I don't think you're shell shocked. I believe there's something here. You've been right about a lot of things — like where the mines were on that road with the American.”

“Mac is starting to believe me, too, and Whitey does already. Not about my being from the future, I haven't told them that yet. But, they do believe I can tell the future. If I don't get to talk to you again like this, I do want to tell you that my mom, your only daughter, adopts me when she's forty-two. She told me you waited a long time for me to show up and you're the one who insisted they call me Taylor. And I will have a birthmark on my chest. Mom said that when you saw that mark, you said I was the one they had to adopt.”

“Okay, Junior. Of course, that's hard to prove, it's so far in the future.”

“Oh, and Pops, my mom has a problem. Maybe you can do something for her when she gets into her teens. I hate to tell you, but she's an alcoholic. I don't know if we're allowed to try to change the future, but it would be nice if you could do something about that. She gets really bad right after my dad leaves.”

“You're giving me so much to think about here, Junior. All these facts. You can't have made it all up, can you?”

“No, sir!”

“Let me sleep on this. I'll talk to you again, soon.” Sarge stood up and left in a pensive mood.

When Taylor returned to the campfire, many of the soldiers were wandering off to settle down for the night in tents. Whitey, Mac, and Red had waited for her, anxious to hear what Sarge had spoken at length about.

“Don't tell us — you've made full corporal; or is it sergeant now? Our hero-saving sarge,” Whitey said, pretending to swoon.

“No, nothing like that. But I do have to tell you what it's all about. If Sarge believes me, you guys have to, too.”

Whitey, Red, and Mac stared at Taylor, trying to understand what she had just told them.

“And Sarge might believe you?” asked Red, scratching his face fuzz.

“Wow. I knew you could tell the future. But, to be from there? I see why Sarge wants to sleep on it,” said Whitey.

“It's pretty strange, Junior. This reminds me of that movie with Bing Crosby when he goes back in time. What was that called?
Connecticut Yankee?
Yeah, that's it,” said Mac. “Mark Twain wrote it, I think. You been reading some stuff about time travel, Junior?”

“What more do I have to tell you to make you believe me?” said Taylor, a line forming across her forehead.

“You've got me, Junior,” said Whitey, whittling away on what looked like a beak.

“It sure won't hurt if these other battles turn out the way you say they will,” said Mac. “But not about the dying — I mean about the winning.”

Red nodded.

“So what am I like when I get older? An old fart?” asked Whitey.

They all laughed.

“Pops — ah, Sarge — keeps in touch with each of you, but he doesn't see you very much anymore because you live all over Canada and you're all older and don't get around much. I only met you once when you were all in Toronto for a fifty-year reunion several years ago. You had all talked about going overseas for the big reunion but changed your minds and met up in Toronto. Pops picked me up and we all had dinner together at some fancy restaurant downtown. You all stared at me so much I thought you were all bonkers like Pops when you said things, like, ‘Does she know yet?' I was too young to grasp what you were all talking about. You asked to see my birthmark, too. I thought you were a bunch of dirty ol' men.”

“What do you mean we said, ‘Does she know yet'? You mean
he
, Junior. You're getting mixed up.”

“Right — that's what I meant. I'm just so happy to get all this out that I'm talking too fast.”
They're not ready to hear that I'm a girl, too. I can tell.

“That's funny. ‘Dirty ol' men.' I can just see you, Red, with white hair. Hey, do we have any hair?” asked Whitey.

“Enough about this,” said Mac, running his tongue over his lips. “Everybody gets old and loses some of their hair. I don't want to hear about it. What's this about a birthmark, Junior? I've seen you naked and never noticed one. Not that I was looking.”

He's seen me naked? Didn't he notice I'm a girl? What the heck?

“I have one on my chest in my time, but not here,” said Taylor, shrugging her shoulders.

“It's good to know we are still friends up there in the future,” said Red.

Taylor clapped Red on the back. “If I ever return there, I'll look you guys up and we can talk all about it. Deal?” Taylor put her hand out palm down as if she were a football player waiting for the guys to give a team shout. Their hands covered hers.

“Hey,” said Taylor, “I want to take your pictures. We can look at them in the future. I've seen them, but I didn't know who you were.”

The guys acquiesced, taking turns standing together, arms around each other as Taylor snapped away. Tired after the revelations, Taylor thanked the guys for being understanding, found her tent, and crawled in, exhausted.

* * *

Outside of Ceccano, four gunners were digging a pit and struck a mine. One was badly injured and carted off. No one asked if he was going to make it. The noise from Ceccano was deafening. Taylor watched from her slit trench as tanks, mired in mud, exploded. Turrets flew off and became missiles. Planes overhead chased each other, firing, or, trailing bright streams of red, crashed nearby. A transport caravan trying to make cover got stuck in the middle of it. Shattered vehicles and bodies littered the road on Taylor's side of the Liri River. The stench of death filled her nostrils.
This sucks. I never want to smell this again
. The few infantry who made it across the river by boat found “the business end of a bayonet” and didn't return.

Taylor was ordered to lead a group into the town after the bombing stopped and a Bailey bridge was successfully erected after another had failed. The air was thick with flies, mosquitoes, and dust as she chose eight men from the volunteers.

Normally, the leader gives orders from behind, but not Taylor. She chose to physically lead the men into the now dark, quiet streets. They hadn't gone far when the whole area was lit by flares hailing down on them by enemy Stukas.

Taylor yelled, “Take cover!” She slid into the remains of a shed-like building as the Stukas dive-bombed again and again, strafing the area like hail, with incendiary and anti-personnel bombs.

A voice yelled, “I'm hit!”

More screams. Taylor crumpled against what was left of a stone wall. Her breathing was laboured. Putting her hand to her chest, it came away red. A red handprint? Taylor crawled out of her shelter after several minutes, when all was quiet. What was left of the building next to her was ablaze. She called out to her men as she surveyed the area, her voice sounding strange, strangled.

The whole town was a pile of rubble. No one answered her. Dazed and hard of hearing, Taylor stumbled about, calling. Red appeared with Whitey close behind him and raced to Taylor, taking her under the arms and dragging her away from the town square.

Taylor shouted at Red, “We can't leave! I've left eight men there.”

A glance passed between Red and Whitey. “They're gone, Junior. You're the only one who made it out. We didn't have time to warn you. That bomber came out of nowhere as soon as you entered the town. How you survived, we don't know. Our guys got the bugger, though.”

Taylor couldn't make out a word said to her. She was now carried, with the help of others to a slit trench and laid gently in it. Her words came out like staccato phrasing of music, “If. I. Stayed. Behind. The. Way. I. Trained. I'd. Be. Gone. Too.”

Whitey and Red stood back as Sarge and a medic rushed up to examine Taylor.

“Reports are coming in, just like you said, Junior. The fatalities are terrible. But Jerry is on the run. Rome will soon be ours.” Sarge patted Taylor's head as she was carried away on a stretcher. Taylor managed to wave a hand in response and then lost consciousness.