Through the Tower

My fingers, arms, face, and body broke the calm blue surface of the pond. Cold water splashed high above me. Two seconds later I felt another splash as my sister dove in after me. We rose to the surface laughing and catching our breath.

“Race you to the statue!” I said, going back under and speeding through the water towards the center of our backyard pond. Just before nearly smashing into the false door of the tower, I abruptly stopped pushing forward to tread water instead. The water swished around my back and legs as Elizabeth caught up to me.

I resurfaced a few seconds before she did. “Elizabeth!” I said. “Look at the statue!”

The sandstone structure decorating the center of our pond was shaped like a medieval watchtower. It stood four feet tall above water and seven feet below. It was a mix of red and tan--or at least it had been until now--but at this moment the whole tower above and below water looked dark brown like wood and the pegs on the doorway shone like silver. Swimming closer, I saw engravings on the arched doorway--the first two resembed quill pens and the third was of a sundial. There was an X over the first pen.

Putting my head back underwater, I swam up and down and all around in front of the door, scrutinizing every inch. The more I stared at it, the more real it appeared. I pulled on the metal hoop doorknob. Slowly, it opened a crack and then swung fully open.  

That's not supposed to happen!

I looked back at Elizabeth. Her blond hair was floating loose behind her, and her brown eyes were bigger than I had ever seen them. I swam inside the statue and she followed.  

It was a small, circular tower. There was absolutely nothing inside, but to my surprise, I saw the outline of another door on the opposite side. I pushed it open and swam out. Elizabeth followed and pushed it shut once more.  

“Interesting,” I said after resurfacing. “An invisible door!”

She shook the water from her face. “Yes, see it looks just like part of the wall from the outside,” she said, looking back at it.

I squinted, but I wasn’t looking at the tower.

“Elizabeth,” I said. “Your hair is brown.”

She looked down and grabbed her hair. She went back under for a moment, then popped up again. “What on earth?! How much chlorine does this pool have?”

“Less than most pools!” I said. “Since it’s also a pond. And you’ve been swimming in it plenty of times before.”

“I know! And many times since I last dyed my hair! It must have been something in that tower!” Suddenly she started to laugh. “And your hair is shorter!”

It was my turn to stare at my own hair. Sure enough, I had somehow lost a good nine inches. My hair now fell just above my shoulders.

“I’m getting out!” I said, swimming unsteadily for the bank. Standing, I gripped my hair and shivered. Elizabeth handed me my towel. “Thanks. Elizabeth--how could my hair--”

“And my hair,” she said. “I don’t know, but there is something decidedly weird about that tower. Something spooky.”

“I’m done swimming for today,” I said.  

“Yeah, I think I am, too,” she said. Together we headed back inside our one story white frame house. We showered and I blow-dried my hair. 

Leaving the bathroom, I walked down the hall to Elizabeth’s room. “Can I come in, Liz? So, I wondered if my hair caught on something in the tower and got cut that way, but look at it! It’s a professional cut. Like I just got home from the salon.”

“You’re right,” she said slowly. “And check this out. I’ve been dying my hair blond for the past 3 years. And I just noticed this.” She pointed to the calendar on the wall. “It’s a three year old calendar. Mine. Arwen, I never save old calendars. I throw them out at the end of the year.”

A tingle ran down my spine.

Just then my cellphone rang. “Tasha,” it read.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Hey girl!” My friend sounded bubbly as usual. “Are you all ready for tonight?”

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” I walked back to my room.

“Don’t tell me you forgot! Araleigh’s birthday party?”

I said nothing. Then, “Oh! Oh, that’s right!” I said, as I saw “Araleigh’s party” penciled in on today’s date in my planner. But- I don’t use this type of planner anymore. What year is it? 

“I have her present right here,” I told Tasha. And so I did. A wrapped gift was sitting on my dresser, looking vaguely familiar.

“Okay, good. I didn’t think you would forget! I’ll swing by at 7 to pick you up!”

“Okay, great!”

I hung up the phone and shook my head. 

“Elizabeth…” I said, walking slowly back to her room.  

“I think we’re in a time warp. To three years ago.”

She looked up at me from where she sat on her bed. “I’m crazy inclined to think you’re right. But how, I don’t have a clue. Except--except I think it involved the tower in the pond. And the door with those engravings.”

“Yes, I never saw them until today!”

“What do you suppose they mean? Two pens, one crossed out, and a sundial.”

“Something about writing, undoing writing, and--time?”

Understanding dawned in my sister’s eyes. “To rewrite time.”

I sunk onto the bed next to her. “But why three years ago?”

“Is this seat taken?” The loud conversation all around me dimmed to a hum. It was him. The same attractive face, long eyelashes, dark, curly hair, flirtatious grin. Three years ago came rushing back upon me like a speeding train.  Once again, my heart was in my throat and goosebumps ran up my arms. But then another scene came to mind…

I saw the white paper in my hand. “Jacques. 202-738-5988.” I had been crying. I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror- all red and splotched with tears. Suddenly with one swift motion, I tore the paper down the middle. I crumpled it into a tight ball and threw it viciously into the trash.  

Throwing myself onto the bed, I sobbed into my pillow. My whole body was racked with grief and I wondered vaguely if I might break my back from the violent motion. Finally I began to mouth the words of a prayer. Like Hannah, my words were inaudible to all but God. At last I rose, took a photo album from my dresser, and thumbed through it until I found his picture. Jordan’s.  

Slipping it out of the photo sleeve, I placed it under my pillow and lay my head softly on that. Closing my eyes, I fell asleep.  

“Um, I’m saving the seat for Tasha,” I said, returning to the present. Tasha entered the room from the kitchen just then and I waved her down. “Tasha!” I whisper-called. “Here!” I pointed to the chair next to me.

Shrugging his shoulders, Jacques moved to the next open seat. All throughout the game that followed, from the corner of my eye I could see him staring at me and doing exaggerated dance moves to get my attention. After the fifth time, I rolled my eyes and refused to look at him any more. I spent the rest of the party trying to stay in the middle of the largest conversations and never be alone, but the night was getting late when he finally cornered me on the back porch getting a cup of apple cider from the snack table.

He walked up to me with his characteristic swagger. “Hey,” he said smoothly. “You’ve been very elusive. I’ve been trying to get to talk to you all night.”

I forced a smile. “I’ve had a bit of a day.”

“Really? What happened?” He perched himself on the porch railing with his sneaker-clad feet hanging down.

“I went swimming in my pool and something weird happened, and now nothing seems the same. It is extremely hard to explain, actually.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “How mysterious! Swimming, huh? We should go to the beach sometime.”

I just barely wrinkled my nose. “Thank you, but I usually swim alone (or with my sister).”

“Why?” he asked. “Afraid all the guys would see how hot you are and ask you out?”

I laughed. “No! Not concerned about that.”

“You know it would happen, though.”

“Thanks. I guess. Though that’s not my way of looking for a guy.”

“What is your way?”

I held his gaze. “By being someone with character.”

“Uh...okay. So you’re going to do what? Hold up a big sign that says, ‘I’ve got character’ and see who lines up?” He laughed.

I rolled my eyes and walked away. He grabbed my arm. “Wait a minute! I do want to ask you something.”

I stopped walking but didn’t turn around.

“You don’t need a bikini to look hot and make guys line up,” he said, coming up behind me. “You do it-- just by being you.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“All the guys including me.”

“Jacques.” I turned around. “You just laughed when I said my character could attract a guy, so what are you saying?”

“I don’t know about ‘character.’ You’re more than just that.”

I turned my back on him again, but he came around to look me in the face. “I won’t stop, Arwen. I just want to get your number.”

“No.”

“No?” His eyes widened and his face seemed to harden. “Just like that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry that I have to be blunt. I just feel like I’m reliving part of my life. And I’m determined to live it differently this time. I’m sorry, but I’m interested in someone else.”

“Ah,” he lifted his chin and slowly brought it back down. “Who is the lucky guy? Why isn’t he here tonight?”

“He doesn’t know Araleigh. Besides, we’re not actually a thing at this point--”

“Wait, what?”

“He hasn’t asked me out,” I said hastily, feeling pressured.

Jacques opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “But I can tell you one thing,” I said. “I do not and I will not like anyone but him until I meet someone who is as humble, honest, and caring as he is.”

“Wow, he must be a saint," Jacques muttered. Then asked, with his hands on his hips: "And what if he never asks you out?”

I raised my chin. “I’ll be disappointed, but at least I won't have to blame myself."

Jacques slid down from the porch railing, shaking his head. “You’re crazy, Arwen. All right. If that’s really what you want. Goodbye then.” 

It really is.

Goodbye, Jacques.

He walked back inside and slammed the door. I let out a long breath, and with it, the weight not just of three years, but of a lifetime seemed to fall from my shoulders. “Thank God for second chances,” I whispered.  

And I knew I must never go back out through the portal I had entered in the tower, lest time should reverse and undo the changes I had made.

The next day I was curled up in the den reading a book when my phone began vibrating on the coffee table. The word "Jordan" appeared on the screen.

I dropped my book like a hot potato and grabbed the phone, almost dropping it too in my haste.

“Hello?”

“Hi Arwen.”

“Hey!”

“You sound surprised. Everything all right?”

“Yes, everything is great! It’s just been--a really long week.”

“Oh, nothing really bad, I hope?”

“Well--some of it was, but it’s much better now.”

“What happened?” he wanted to know. “Tell me about it.”

I sat back down comfortably on the sofa and began to play with a lock of my hair.

He cares about everything that happens to me.

“Well, one of the guys from school has been trying to flirt with me. He asked me for my number last night at a birthday party. I wouldn’t give it to him because he laughs at my values.”

“Well, good riddance.”

I laughed. “Yes. Yes, quite right. Good riddance.”

“How did he take it?”

“He was mad, but he could see that I meant what I said, so he finally left.”

Jordan was silent. “What are you up to right now?” he asked.

“Not much. I was just reading.”

“Good. I called to ask if I can stop by. (I’m in town visiting my mom and dad.)”

“Stop by--you mean, right now?” I instantly started chewing my hair (a long-standing nervous habit of mine).

“Yes. If that’s okay?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Twenty minutes later he rang the doorbell.  

“Who is that?” Elizabeth asked, sticking her head out of her room.

“It’s for me!” I cried, streaking past her.

“Okay, it’s for her!” Elizabeth told the clock on the wall.

I pulled open the front door. I was no longer wearing the sweat pants and ratty tshirt I’d been in half an hour ago. Now dressed in cute jeans and a slippery purple blouse, I thought I was prepared to see him.

Not so.

He met me at the door with a dozen long-stemmed red roses in his hand.

“I brought these for you,” he said.

I took them and tried to say thank you, but I choked up too much to speak. In my timeline, you see, I had loved him for five years, not just one, and never in that time had he brought me flowers. I beckoned him inside and retreated to the kitchen for a vase and water. Once the roses were all set, my voice had returned.  

“Thank you, Jordan. This is the nicest gift I’ve ever been given!”

He smiled back at me--a rare, but real smile.

“If you’re not too tired, would you like to go walk around the shops in the village?” he asked.

“Uh--yes! Just the two of us?”

“Yes. You know--like a date. I’ll buy us sundaes and we can look at the lights and window shop and talk.”

“That is my kind of date!” I said.

Ten minutes later we we were strolling along cobblestone streets in the lamplight of a quaint village, looking in lighted windows and holding hands.

“This is so fun, Jordan!” I floated along the sidewalk more than walked.

“Good! I was afraid it might be too simple.”

“Not at all. To be honest, though, you took me completely by surprise asking me out.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. And when you talked about that other guy trying to get your number, I realized I’d better do it now.” He stopped walking and turned towards me, looking me in the eyes. “Because I really do like you. It really hit me hearing how you turned that guy down and wouldn't settle." The corners of his mouth turned upward and dimples appeared in his cheeks.

Tears sprang to my eyes, in spite of my best efforts to hold them back.  

“So,” I said, once we started walking again. “Did you know I’ve been sleeping with your picture under my pillow for three years?”

“Really?” His resonant voice turned musically high-pitched. “That’s impossible. You haven’t even known me for three years.”

“Ah, but I have,” I nodded. “In a different life.”

A life I am glad to replace with this one.