The Time Traveler's Lover : Jack at 7
Inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
The characters belong to Annie Proulx.
Jack travels back and forth in time throughout the course of his life and encounters Ennis and himself - visits that change everthing and almost nothing. List of all chapters is here.
For the purposes of this story, Jack and Ennis were both born in 1944 and the fight by the lake occurs in the spring of 1983.
January 5, 1951
"Just one more chapter and then I have to start supper."
"Alright Mama." Jack snuggled against his mother's side. They were sitting together on the couch in front of the fire, he wrapped in a blanket. Icy snow chittered against the windows with each gust of wind. He'd had a bad case of flu right after Christmas and was better now but tired enough for his mother to prevail against his father when he wanted Jack to help with the chores in this bad weather. During his illness she'd read to him from the books Uncle Harold had sent him as a Christmas present. They were about a pig detective named Freddy who lived on a farm full of talking animals in New York state. His father detested these "pansy" books, as he called them, but Jack loved them. They had finished Freddy the Cowboy and now she was reading from Freddy Goes Camping. Disguised as a man, Freddy was setting up a campsite with a real man by the edge of a lake in order to solve the mystery of a haunted hotel on the opposite side. They had just erected a tent shaped like a pyramid and arranged stones in a circle for the cooking fire which Freddy, a novice camper, was trying to light. Jack giggled at the image because even he knew how to lay a proper fire.
Just then one of the logs in the fireplace shifted and popped, sending sparks flying up the chimney. Jack was startled to see them change colors and shower back down.
July 4th, 2002
The popping sounds continued and now all he could see was multi-colored sparks against a night sky. The fire had vanished. He was still leaning against his mother, but his blanket was gone. In fact, his mother seemed to have the blanket around her now. His pajamas had disappeared as well, though he wasn't cold because the air was very warm. They were no longer on a soft couch indoors but sitting on a kind of long wooden, swaying seat on a porch. He sat up straight and looked up at his mother. He frowned when he saw an old man staring down at him from under the brim of his hat. A slow smile spread across the man's face. He lifted half the blanket from himself and draped it over Jack's body.
"Bout time you showed up. Been sittin here every July fourth waitin fer you t'watch the fireworks with me," he said mildly in a slightly hoarse voice. "Shoulda thoughta tryin this from the start." He reached up and touched a big black and white feather stuck in his hat band.
"Do you have the flu?" Jack asked, wondering at the blanket in summer. Even in the dim light he could tell the man's skin had a strange pallor.
"Nah," the man answered, looking away from him and toward the sparks shooting into the sky above the treetops.
"Those are fireworks? I seen pictures of them in a magazine but I didn't know they made noise," Jack said.
"Yep, they make a real loud noise when yer up close. You just don't remember. Anyway, I got somethin for ya, been carryin this around with me the last few years." He fumbled around under the blanket and drew out a bar made of metal and wood with holes in it. He held it up for Jack to see.
"Know what this is?" the man asked. Jack shook his head. "It's a harmonica." The old man blew into it as he moved it along his lips and an ascending scale of notes warbled out. "You make music with it. Try it." He handed it to Jack, who turned it around in his hand before putting it to his mouth. He blew into it like he was trying to blow up a balloon and a strange sound blasted out of it.
The man cackled with laughter. "Not so hard. Blow it gently. You can suck in air too, get a different sound."
Jack tried that for a minute, and liked the sounds he was making even if the man kept rolling his eyes. After a few minutes of noodling around with the harmonica, Jack tried to give it back but the man nudged his hand away.
"Keep it. You practice you'll be able to play a real tune someday," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. Then he shifted so he could look into Jack's eyes. "Be nice to see you one more time before... Can you visit again soon?" His voice sounded shaky.
Jack wished he could promise the man he'd return, but he could never control when this happened. He wanted to make the man happy, though, so he said "Maybe if you send a message?"
"I'll run up a flag, then," the man said. "Ain't gonna be a rainbow flag, though," he added with a guffaw and slapping his knee.
-----------
Suddenly Jack saw flames before his eyes and he was back sitting on the couch, alone. The sound of the knee-slapping continued but it was coming from the kitchen. His father had finished seeing to the stock in the barn and was beating snow off his legs as he spoke to Jack's mother. Jack slid down and stretched out on the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. He felt around for the harmonica but as he had expected, it hadn't come back with him. He was sorry about that, sorry for the man who had waited so long to give him that gift. He would ask for a harmonica for his birthday. He'd practice hard and maybe someday he'd see the man again. He would smile to hear how well he played.
<< Jack at 6 | Jack at 8 >>
The characters belong to Annie Proulx.
Jack travels back and forth in time throughout the course of his life and encounters Ennis and himself - visits that change everthing and almost nothing. List of all chapters is here.
For the purposes of this story, Jack and Ennis were both born in 1944 and the fight by the lake occurs in the spring of 1983.
January 5, 1951
"Just one more chapter and then I have to start supper."
"Alright Mama." Jack snuggled against his mother's side. They were sitting together on the couch in front of the fire, he wrapped in a blanket. Icy snow chittered against the windows with each gust of wind. He'd had a bad case of flu right after Christmas and was better now but tired enough for his mother to prevail against his father when he wanted Jack to help with the chores in this bad weather. During his illness she'd read to him from the books Uncle Harold had sent him as a Christmas present. They were about a pig detective named Freddy who lived on a farm full of talking animals in New York state. His father detested these "pansy" books, as he called them, but Jack loved them. They had finished Freddy the Cowboy and now she was reading from Freddy Goes Camping. Disguised as a man, Freddy was setting up a campsite with a real man by the edge of a lake in order to solve the mystery of a haunted hotel on the opposite side. They had just erected a tent shaped like a pyramid and arranged stones in a circle for the cooking fire which Freddy, a novice camper, was trying to light. Jack giggled at the image because even he knew how to lay a proper fire.
Just then one of the logs in the fireplace shifted and popped, sending sparks flying up the chimney. Jack was startled to see them change colors and shower back down.
July 4th, 2002
The popping sounds continued and now all he could see was multi-colored sparks against a night sky. The fire had vanished. He was still leaning against his mother, but his blanket was gone. In fact, his mother seemed to have the blanket around her now. His pajamas had disappeared as well, though he wasn't cold because the air was very warm. They were no longer on a soft couch indoors but sitting on a kind of long wooden, swaying seat on a porch. He sat up straight and looked up at his mother. He frowned when he saw an old man staring down at him from under the brim of his hat. A slow smile spread across the man's face. He lifted half the blanket from himself and draped it over Jack's body.
"Bout time you showed up. Been sittin here every July fourth waitin fer you t'watch the fireworks with me," he said mildly in a slightly hoarse voice. "Shoulda thoughta tryin this from the start." He reached up and touched a big black and white feather stuck in his hat band.
"Do you have the flu?" Jack asked, wondering at the blanket in summer. Even in the dim light he could tell the man's skin had a strange pallor.
"Nah," the man answered, looking away from him and toward the sparks shooting into the sky above the treetops.
"Those are fireworks? I seen pictures of them in a magazine but I didn't know they made noise," Jack said.
"Yep, they make a real loud noise when yer up close. You just don't remember. Anyway, I got somethin for ya, been carryin this around with me the last few years." He fumbled around under the blanket and drew out a bar made of metal and wood with holes in it. He held it up for Jack to see.
"Know what this is?" the man asked. Jack shook his head. "It's a harmonica." The old man blew into it as he moved it along his lips and an ascending scale of notes warbled out. "You make music with it. Try it." He handed it to Jack, who turned it around in his hand before putting it to his mouth. He blew into it like he was trying to blow up a balloon and a strange sound blasted out of it.
The man cackled with laughter. "Not so hard. Blow it gently. You can suck in air too, get a different sound."
Jack tried that for a minute, and liked the sounds he was making even if the man kept rolling his eyes. After a few minutes of noodling around with the harmonica, Jack tried to give it back but the man nudged his hand away.
"Keep it. You practice you'll be able to play a real tune someday," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. Then he shifted so he could look into Jack's eyes. "Be nice to see you one more time before... Can you visit again soon?" His voice sounded shaky.
Jack wished he could promise the man he'd return, but he could never control when this happened. He wanted to make the man happy, though, so he said "Maybe if you send a message?"
"I'll run up a flag, then," the man said. "Ain't gonna be a rainbow flag, though," he added with a guffaw and slapping his knee.
-----------
Suddenly Jack saw flames before his eyes and he was back sitting on the couch, alone. The sound of the knee-slapping continued but it was coming from the kitchen. His father had finished seeing to the stock in the barn and was beating snow off his legs as he spoke to Jack's mother. Jack slid down and stretched out on the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. He felt around for the harmonica but as he had expected, it hadn't come back with him. He was sorry about that, sorry for the man who had waited so long to give him that gift. He would ask for a harmonica for his birthday. He'd practice hard and maybe someday he'd see the man again. He would smile to hear how well he played.
<< Jack at 6 | Jack at 8 >>