Charlotte’s Revenge

Chapter One

The sun shines brightly through the open bay window in my large bedroom. I lay in my four poster bed as my eyes start to blink open from the sun’s rays. My purple sheer curtains flow gently around the posts – but they did not block the sun as much as when they are pulled back. I forgot to do that the night before because I was too tired to care about that small detail as I slid into bed and drifted off to sleep.

I look at them and realize I forgot to pull them back the night before. I had been too tired to care about that small detail as I slid into bed and drifted off to sleep.

Next, I shift so my gaze rests upon the digital clock on the nightstand by my bed. Through the curtains I read the red numbers on the clock.

“Oh, shoot,” I declare aloud to the empty room. I had a tight schedule today and already I was three minutes behind. I slide out of the sheets and into my slippers. Even though it was June, the mornings were cool enough to necessitate the use of slippers while walking across the dark brown hardwood floors throughout the house.

The two small rugs on my bedroom floor did not quite reach my bed. I had been begging my parents for an area rug but they keep refusing, stating that the slippers would have to suffice for now.

It was not that we are poor by any means. My mother is just frugal. If we could do without it, then we would have to make do. I thought it was rather rude of her at the time, but I finally grew accustomed to wearing the white bunny slippers over the years.

I made my way toward the closet to find the outfit I laid out the night before. I knew I wouldn’t have time to sift through all of my clothes in the small walk-in closet today. The dress lay draped over the full-length mirror that sat next to my closet door. I gingerly held the dress up and twirled around with it in my hands.

My cell phone beeps at me, indicating it was time to wake up. My alarm had been malfunctioning for days. Now it seemed my cell phone was starting to go on the fritz as well. This would have been a disaster if I hadn’t been so excited about the day already.

I didn’t have time to stop and think about why my electronic devices had turned on me this week. I changed into my dress and stood in front of the mirror to admire how it fit on my frame. I was proud of myself for standing my ground on what I was going to wear today. My mother can be overbearing at times, but she means well.

I check the clock every chance I get to make sure that I am on time with my schedule. Those pesky three minutes I lost waking up, I get back in the time it takes me to step into my dress.

 

***

 

“Savanna darling, it’s time to get up.” I hear my mother calling from downstairs. I had been up for an hour already. It is graduation day and there is no way I will miss this. I was chosen to be valedictorian.

By the time I hear my mother’s voice, I am already dressed in my knee length purple sun dress with a white button down cover.  She would rather I wear an outfit that looks like a waiter in a restaurant by suggesting that I wear a black skirt with a white button down shirt. She just wants me to look my best; to look like a working professional.

What I really would have liked to wear was a light blue dress with white flowers that I saw at the mall three weeks ago. What did it matter? No one would see my dress under the ghastly green gown.

To top it all off we would be out in the hot summer sun. I know I will roast by the end of the afternoon. I am grateful that my pixie short brown hair and lightly applied make-up is already done by the time I hear my mother’s sweet voice find its way through the mansion-like house and into my room for the second time this morning.

I stand in front of my full length mirror practicing the speech that I will deliver later to the thousands of people that will be attending the ceremony.

“Welcome students, family, and honored guests,” I sigh as I rehearse. This was going to be the hardest thing I will ever do in my entire life. Please let me get through this without falling on my face.

As I look into the mirror my almost boyish hairstyle mocks me. It didn’t matter how much I brush it, the back sticks up like a blade of grass waving in the summer breeze. I took another look at my speech, neatly organized on a stack of three by five cards.

The words seem to laugh in my face; which just makes me more nervous than I already am. The feeling in the pit of my stomach that had been present since the day the school announced I was valedictorian.

This was also the day my best friend, Cassie, and her family, moved away. Cassie and I had promised to be at graduation together, and now she wasn’t going to be by my side. Cassie graduated in December and off her family went three months later. They were already planning on moving, but it was the day I lost my best friend.

Cassie had been home, during the announcement, finishing the last minute packing. All I could do was sit in class and think about Cassie ditching me two months before graduation. Two long months of isolation; at least that is how it felt to me.

It was one thing to achieve the goal of being in the top of my class, but quite another to be in charge of a speech that ten years from now no one will likely remember. I quickly look through my note cards one more time.

I glance once more in the mirror before grabbing my cap and gown from the rocking chair near my closet door. Before I walk to the door of my bedroom, I pause a moment to take it all in. When I return I will be a high school graduate; something my mother pushed me to strive for.

She once told me that if I could dedicate my time to accomplishing the goal of becoming valedictorian I would be able to do anything I put my mind to.

School was the only thing I could talk to my mother about. It was all she knew, having been valedictorian herself. I didn’t think down on my mother for wanting me to have such high goals; but, I needed someone to talk to about boys and makeup; especially after Cassie left.

The last thing I wanted to talk about after school and homework was more school and homework. Mother seemed like she didn’t understand being a teenage girl as all.

I continue to take in the moment. As I do, my eyes pause at each item in the room, starting with my queen-sized bed, then moving toward the armoire, and finally resting on the two desks.

My mind quickly recalls the days when both parents brought home a desk for me. They didn’t see the point in returning either one, so they both stayed. I figured it had more to do with the fact they couldn’t decide which one to keep and which one to return. I prefer the one my dad picked out.

“Savanna darling, you don’t want to be late for graduation,” Mom calls out from downstairs.

I respond quickly so she will stop yelling through the house, “Already up.”

To myself I said, “Do not forget your check list.”

I find my to-do list on the desk Mom got me. It was white with butterflies painted on it. She found it at a garage sale. Dad got his at Staples and it looks more like a desk a teenager would want. I did like butterflies; when I was ten. Like I said earlier, Mom just doesn’t understand.

I look at my list and the only thing left is to have breakfast and head over to the school. Once there I plan on practicing my speech one last time before everyone arrives.

 

***

 

I descend the stairs leading to our kitchen to find my parents waiting with cameras in hand – as usual. They were never without them; either of them. I guess that’s what happens when you are an only child.

“Oh, Savanna,” Dad said when he sees me at the bottom of the stairs, “would you mind going back upstairs, count to twenty, and then come down again so we can capture your beautiful entrance?”

I was never one to argue with my father so I did what he asked me with a smile on my face. I think it odd they hadn’t been filming the stairs the whole morning so they wouldn’t miss my grand appearance, but I comply with their wishes by retreating the way I came. Counting to twenty was a monotonous task, but then seeing my parents faces, once the cameras were placed on the counter, was worth it.

I immediately inquire about breakfast, after they finished making me feel like I had a run in with a pack of paparazzi. I look around the kitchen to see if there was any sign of breakfast food. There isn’t even a hint of anything. No bowls for cereal. No plates for pancakes. Not even the slightest bit of an aroma of bacon or sausage. I do my best to hide my disappointment.

“We are taking you to your favorite restaurant, honey,” Mom said as she finishes putting her camera away carefully. As her bag moves, I see a small package sitting all alone on the counter. It didn’t look like much but I could sense it was important. I was about to mention it, but they whisk me away before I get the chance. In the car my mom put on some music she thought was what I liked.

I try to zone them out by reciting my speech in my head. I envision myself on stage, but the more I think about it the more my mind starts racing with thoughts of failure. I wasn’t entirely sure how I could fail, but my nerves react to these thoughts. As much as I dislike the constant talk of perfection from my mother I don’t want to let her down today.

All of these thoughts and feelings start to accumulate on top of each other and it just feels awful. My head starts to ache, a bit slow at first; then out of nowhere it begins to pound as I focus all my thoughts on graduation.

Dad pulls me out of my thoughts by saying, “Savanna, we’re here.”

He was looking at me from the front seat. I smile at him before opening the car door and walk with my parents into the local Denny’s. It didn’t take long for us to be seated. I take a moment to decide if I want to order something new or stick with my usual, of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage.

Mom has always considered my appetite to be rather masculine, but I need my strength in order to give a speech to like a billion people. I never saw myself as the stereotypical girl who only eats a salad or just orders a water when out to eat; especially with my hair style.

We ate in silence, which is fine by me. It isn’t that I don’t enjoy my parents company. I love my dad beyond words. It is difficult for me to relate to my mom. For as long as I could remember it has always been difficult to go to her for things, and it was not for a lack of trying on either of our parts.

Mom would get an idea in her head about who I am or who she would like me to become. For the last eighteen years it has been exhausting trying to live up to her standards. Not all of the achievements I have received were bad; but, I just didn’t feel as though I was a teenager. There were many times when I wanted so desperately to talk to my mother about anything other than my Advanced Placement English class. I was so grateful to be going away to college in August.

It was a happy day for me when the acceptance letter came in the mail. I thought about that day as we were finishing up our breakfast.

It had been a rough day at school. We ended up having pop quizzes in almost all of my classes. Mom and I had had our morning argument over what I would be allowed do that weekend. I wanted to go to the movies; and surprise – she wanted me to study. Our morning argument was not out of the ordinary. It didn’t phase me that the day would become an ordeal to get through.

I shouldn’t have complained too much. Some parents aren’t involved with their children’s education. I just wished my mother wasn’t so much involved. Getting to school and finding out in first period that we had a pop quiz was the first strike in my rough day. Then it just continued to go downhill from there.

Until I got home and saw the mail pile. I sifted through the envelopes and found one with my name on it. Then I saw where it was from. As if it was a possibility, I snatch it up, not wanting it to run away. Sitting down at the table I let my backpack fall to the ground with a thud. The sound of the books hitting the floor echoes loudly in my ears.

I turned the envelope over and started to open it. That is when mom came in.

“Oh, did you get in?” she asked enthusiastically. It surprised me to hear her excitement at my possible departure come the following fall.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said ripping the envelope and pulling out the paper out. I unfolded the page and scanned it for the words I had been hoping for. Everything that happened that day disappeared at the words, “Congratulations, you have been accepted.”

I relayed the news to my mother, who showed her exhilaration at all the hard work I had done. While she was thinking of all the hours of dedication she had put into pushing me toward this goal of ours, I was thinking of freedom.

“Savanna, are you ready to go?” Dad asks from across the table. I nod in reply and we gather our things to leave. While he pays for our food Mom visits the ladies room and I am left to wander to wait.

Looking out the window at the parking lot I decide to go outside to pass the time. It was such a nice day I want to enjoy it without thinking about my dreaded graduation speech.  My thoughts go there anyway. As my focus deepens on graduation all my nerves begin to tingle when I push the front door open. I didn’t recall it being windy outside, but I feel a pull from the outside as though a strong wind has picked up. Along with that feeling, I sense someone behind me as if they are pushing me forward.

I try to turn to see who it is, thinking it is my dad. No one was there pushing me. I take a step forward, placing my foot on the other side of the threshold. The wind seems to be getting stronger. I decide to continue on by putting my other foot out the door. I take a few more steps outside into the morning sun.

That’s strange; I thought the wind was blowing. As I look around the first thing I notice is the near empty parking lot. Out loud I say, “Where’s the car?”

I look all around for dad’s car. When I didn’t see it I think, Great the car has been stolen. That’s just what we need. I pull out my cell phone from my purse.

“Are you kidding? No bars! There were three when we went in,” still talking to myself, I say in disgust. What is going on?

I turn around to go back inside, so I can tell my dad about the car. Two things catch my attention. The first is the name of the restaurant being different. I’ve been going to this same restaurant for as long as I can remember. I never remembered it being called ‘Joe’s Diner’.

The second thing that catches my eye is the customers coming out wearing clothes from the seventies. I watch them in their bell bottoms, patterned shirts, and poufy hair. I feel as though I am stepping onto a movie set.

I turn back toward the parking lot. This time I note the type of cars. My head goes back and forth watching the customers go in and out of the restaurant. My head begins to spin with confusion as I try to process what I am seeing. Did I miss something? Was it dress up in seventies clothes day or something? Was it vintage car day?

“Excuse me,” I say with a little catch in my voice. My nerves get the best of me and I forget all about my graduation speech as my feelings turned into a fear over what the strange couple I stop will tell me.

“Yea,” the man replies.

“What day is it today?” I am hoping beyond hope that I’m not losing my mind entirely. I have one idea of what it could be. It is completely farfetched, but it was all my mind could come up with on the spot. While it was highly unlikely and scientifically impossible, a feeling I couldn’t explain told me it was the logical conclusion.

“Today is the third of June.”

“Oh good, thanks,” I am relieved to know that it was still the third of June. Then, I begin to test my theory of what is happening to me when I ask, “What year is it?”

“Are you lost darling?” the woman asks with a look of concern crossing her face. She reaches out to put her hand on my arm. I let her.

I want to lie, but I don’t, “Maybe a little. What year is it, please?”

“Nineteen seventy six,” They both said in unison.

I wanted to faint. The woman’s grip on my arm tightens, telling me I did not keep my surprise hidden as well as I would have wanted to.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything we can do for you,” the woman asks looking into my eyes.

I stammer out a thank you of some sort and start to walk away. I have to figure out how to get back home and fast. I don’t want to miss my graduation. That was the furthest from my mind at the moment, but I knew the thought of it lingered somewhere in my subconscious.

As I walk away from the couple I hear them trying to get my attention. The further I get, the less I hear them calling after me. I need to go somewhere, but where?

After walking for a few minutes, I decide to walk toward the high school. If I remember correctly it should only be a few years old. This was unreal. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that I was in another time other than the one I’d woken up in. It didn’t matter what my eyes were showing me.

I have tons of questions running through my head as I walk down toward Main Street. If in fact here was nineteen seventy six like the couple said, how did I get here? Everything did look different. The buildings appear to be newer and somehow seem to be brighter. I guess it was because newer buildings seem to shine brighter.

More questions started inching their way into my thought process. What was going on? How did I get here? How would I get back? Can I get back? How would I explain my absence if and when I did make it back? Are my parents freaking out right now? Again, how did I get here? That last question was first and foremost in my mind. The one question that keeps returning no matter how many other questions presented themselves in my thoughts.

I couldn’t answer any of these questions. Out of nowhere, a thought comes to me that Grams would know the answers. I mutter to myself, “Too bad she is clear across the country, in Georgia.”

I couldn’t believe my luck today. I had everything planned out. I had my lists all figured out. I was following them to the letter. That is until Mom and Dad decided to take me out to breakfast. I start to blame them for my sudden predicament; I don’t even know what to call this – maybe time shift – departure.

I suddenly find myself on the corner of Main Street. I look both ways before making my way across the usually busy street, even though there isn’t a crosswalk at this corner.

It wasn’t as busy as I was used to it being. I continue to look up one way and down the other, as I am crossing the street, to see if I could notice anything familiar at all. Aside from the fact there were a few street lights missing, there were a few details about the street I recognize.

While the town had obviously grown since the seventies it was still not large enough for a mall or anything fun – like a miniature golf course with batting cages and go-carts.

I get to the other side of the street and continue on my journey to the high school. I enter a residential area that is lined with homes of various sizes and colors. About halfway down this block I pause in front of a house that appears to be familiar. For a moment I am unable to place where I’ve seen it. In a strange way, the home seems out of place, yet, it makes me think of home.

The front door opens and a young man comes out. He walks down the driveway in my direction. His dark hair is slicked back so that it is out of his face. It was longer than I remember him ever having it. His clothes were definitely not his style either. Then again I hadn’t seen pictures of him from the seventies before. It is his face that confirms to me it is who I think it is. At first I think my eyes must be playing tricks on me. As he comes closer to me, I just know I am right. Not realizing it, my mouth opens to ask, “Dad?”

He was close enough that he heard me, “Sorry, what did you just say?”

“Nothing, you just look like someone I know.” I hesitate to say too much because even I was having a hard time believing what I was seeing.  He appears to be about my age, I determine as we share an uncomfortable moment staring at each other. Now I know how Marty from Back to the Future felt when he saw his mom as a teenager.

Then again, I’m not completely convinced he is my dad. My dad has always been a curious individual, wanting to learn as much as he can. I know this situation would peek his curiosity, but I would rather he didn’t know about me before I’m born.

A comforting thought crossed my mind. If this is my dad, then that means Grams is here. Again the thought comes that if I can just find Grams she would know what is going on and maybe get me home.

“Well, I’m not him. You can stop staring. I got me a girlfriend already,” He said.

Wow, his grammar is awful. How did he ever become an English professor? I think to myself. That’s not important right now. I have to figure out a way to get away from this house long enough for the teenage version of my dad to go wherever it was he was going.

“Sorry I bothered you. I gotta go.” I turn to walk away but he stops me.

“Wait,” he calls, “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

I turned back in his direction, “It’s alright.”

“Have I ever seen you before?  Because, I feel like I’m looking at a taller, yet, younger, version of my mom,” He shutters quite visibly.  Apparently they weren’t as close in the seventies as they are in my time. What a shame. They could have had the relationship they have now sooner if…well…I guess I don’t know the whole story.

“That’s odd.” I tell him the only thing I could think of to say.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” He turns to get into his black truck then says to me through the open window, “she’s home if you want to see what you’ll look like in about twenty years.”

Seriously, it was that easy. I thought I was going to have to walk around the block to pass the time until he left. “Thanks, I just might.”

I decide I will wait for him to leave anyway. I don’t want to seem too eager to go into this strange, yet familiar house. It is bizarre how things could feel that way.

“Oh, I’m Gavin, by the way.”

I am about to say that I know his name already, but instead say, “Nice to meet you. I’m Savy.”

“See you around?”

“Maybe,” I tell him. With that he pulls out of the driveway, going in the direction I was going to go, to the high school before this small detour.

Once he turns the corner I make my way up to the brick house with a quaint porch. The kind that remind you of the movies and television shows with the porch swing on one side and planters all lined up on the wall that only go up about half way. The brick was a brown color that looked a little worn as if the house had been here for years. It probably had been.

I knock on the door and wait.

“Gavin dear, did you forget your keys, again?” I hear his mother calling. When she sees me it is as if she knows exactly who I am, “Oh, my. Please come in. I’ve been expecting you, dear.”

“You’ve been expecting me?” I point to myself. It was strange to think that someone in the seventies was expecting someone from 2010. She held the door open for me, inviting me in by gesturing toward the living room. Before I get very far, she gives me a hug.

“Yes, Savanna, I’ve been expecting you,” she releases me to continue, “And don’t ask any questions until I talk to you about a few things.”

She invites me to have a seat on the couch then takes a seat in a lounge chair that surprisingly looks like something from my time.

“First off, you can call me Grams. Even though your father hasn’t made me one, this time traveling business can make me one in any time period.”

“So, that’s what happened? I time traveled?” I get some of my questions out before she starts talking again.

“Yes. It is in your DNA to time travel.” She answers politely. “Let me give you something. You’ll need it to get home.”

Grams left the room for a bit and returned with a small package. “That package looks familiar.”

“It should, I left it for you this morning on your kitchen counter, but someone was in a hurry to get you to breakfast. There wasn’t time to give it to you.”

I am about to protest, to tell her that she could not have been at my house this morning, but she quiets me as she hands me the package. I open it up carefully.

“Darling, it isn’t going to break. You might as well just open the thing.” Grams said. That was Grams for you. Direct as anything and not afraid of anyone. Her comment causes me chuckle as I finish opening the package. Inside I find a jewelry box. I lift the lid to find a ring inside.

It’s a beautiful ring. “Grams, I don’t understand, how is this going to help me get back home?”

“It is a time ring. It is set to make one trip to the past and one trip to the future. By itself it can only make these two trips. Someone has to program it to make it work, though. Oh, and it is also a bit time sensitive. I wish I could give you all the information you need today, but you must get to the high school in the next fifteen minutes.”

“Why fifteen minutes?”

“Oh, you ask too many questions. Just thank your Grams for the ring and get to the high school. You and the ring will do the rest. When you get home come to live with me, in Georgia, and I’ll fill you in on everything. Besides, there’s someone who is dying to meet you.”