~
I felt my chest compress but not as badly as the last time. There was a loud crack of thunder, and a screaming Gertie was projected from the outhouse right into the back of a man who was kneeling behind a bush. Gertie, the man, and parts of the bush went tumbling down a small hill. I stepped out, shielding my eyes from the blinding sun. We were in a small patch of trees on top of a rocky hill. Large, red, dirt hills covered sparsely with cactus and other drought-tolerant plants surrounded us. Off in the distance, I could see a small town. Inspecting my apparel, I saw I was wearing some kind of cowboy duds. I had a cowboy hat, breeches, a western shirt over a tight top that was squeezing my boobs up to my neck, and some type of holster. No gun, thank goodness.
I walked to where Gertie had landed. The man was facedown in the dirt with Gertie lying on top of him, face to the sky.
As I approached, I heard him say, “Would you please get off me, lassie?”
I stopped cold. It was him. Mr. Sexy. My heart began to pound, my blood began to boil, and I know steam was shooting out of my ears.
“I’m trying,” Gertie said as she struggled to get up. She was wearing a long brown dress with a high, cream-colored bib neck and black lace-up boots.
I walked over and grabbed Gertie by the hand, helping her stand.
“Jen, what happened?” She swayed slightly, and her voice was a little squeaky, so I put a hand on her forearm to steady her.
Mr. Sexy got up. He was dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt with the buttons open halfway down the front, exposing a tanned, muscular torso. His hair was shorter than before but still curled around his collar in the back.
As he turned, our eyes met, then his gaze dropped down to my chest. I thought, You bastard, checking out my tits. Then I realized around his neck was a necklace similar to mine, except his had a full sun with blazing rays.
“Oh no!” he shouted. “Oh, bloody hell, no! You are my transporter?”
“You are an asshole,” I responded, my face hot with rage. “You left me God knows where. How was I supposed to get home?”
“Why didnae ye tell me you were the transporter?” he asked.
“You two know each other?” Gertie asked, pointing to each of us, her voice stabilizing with curiosity.
“No!” we both said in unison.
“Yes!” Again, it was spoken simultaneously.
“Well, which is it?” Gertie eyed me suspiciously. “And what the hell am I wearing? Where are my clothes? Where am I?”
“Shut up!” Mr. Sexy and I both yelled.
“Don’t you tell her to shut up! You left me,” I said, my lip jutting out into an unpredictable pout.
“You didnae tell me you were my transporter,” he said more calmly.
“Well…I don’t know what that is exactly, but you are a jerk, and I would be happy to transport you to Mars.”
“You tell ‘im, Jen!” Gertie said with encouragement. I gave her a glare.
“OK,” he said, running a hand through his dark, almost black hair. “You really mean to tell me you don’t know what you do? And who is this?” he asked, nodding his head toward Gertie.
Gertie stepped forward. “For your information, I’m Jen’s cousin, Gertrude.”
“She sort of hopped in at the last minute,” I added.
“You cannae bring a friend!” He stomped around. “This is naugh Disneyland!”
“Cousin,” said Gertrude. “I’m family.”
I didn’t say anything, because he looked like he might be angry.
“Who is your mentor?” he asked me.
“My what?”
“The person who taught you aboot your gift.”
I looked confused.
“You mean… no one told you of your gift?” he asked in disbelief.
“Um, nope, the outhouse just got delivered one day after my aint died.”
“Ye aunt?”
“No, aint. My aint left the outhouse to me in her will. I think she tried to see me before she died, but it just never happened.”
“This is very unfortunate.” He sighed. “Ah dinnae ken what to do aboot this situation.”
“Why don’t you start from the beginning so maybe I can understand what is going on.”
“No crap,” said Gertie.
“OK, you have the gift of time travel. It’s passed down from your ancestors. Usually it is passed from a grandparent to a grandchild. But it can pass directly from parent to child. It seems to skip a generation more often than naugh.”
“Oh, this is so cool,” Gertie said excitedly. “We can go in the future and get the lotto numbers, I can see my true love, I can—”
“Gertie!” I shouted.
“No,” Mr. Sexy said. “The vessel cannae travel into the future. We go back in time, and when we have made our capture, your vessel takes us to Gitmo.”
“Gitmo?” I asked.
“You mean Guantanamo Bay, Cuba?” Gertie interjected. “I always wondered what they really did out there. You know you can’t ever believe what you read in the papers.”
“What do you mean by ‘capture’?” I asked.
“I am a defender,” he said. “There are others who can go back in time as well. Some are bad people. We call them brigands.” He sighed, then walked over to my outhouse. “I come back to stop them, and you transport them to Gitmo. See, you have two seats, one, two.” He pointed to the seats.
“So let me get this straight,” Gertie said. “Y’all are like secret agents who go back in time and catch bad guys.”
“Yes, sort of,” Mr. Sexy said.
“Ain’t that the shit. Wait till I tell Momma.”
“No!” he yelled. “You cannae tell anyone. You are not supposed to be here. You have already violated the code.” We stood staring at each other. He looked as if he didn’t know quite what to do or say.
He spoke at last. “It was very careless of your mentor not to tell you this information.”
“Well, she was about ninety years old and died before she could tell me.”
“Ninety? Why was your grandmother so old?”
“I told you, she was my aunt. My great-aint Elma Jean Cloud, and she didn’t have any children.”
“Elma?”
“Yes, did you know her?”
He looked at me thoughtfully. “She waited a long time for you.”
“You’re tellin’ me you have a gift that Aint Elma gave you, and I didn’t get one?” Gertie stomped her foot.
“I didn’t exactly ask for this to happen to me.” I sighed. “Can I get rid of it?”
“Cripes.” Mr. Sexy pinched the bridge of his nose like he had a migraine headache coming on. “This has started off bad. We need to find a safe place to regroup, and I can try to help you understand.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Gertie said.
“Well, an introduction might be a start,” I said, hands on my hips.
“Oh right, I guess we didnae get aroond to discussing names before,” Mr. Sexy replied, with the corners of his mouth turning up in a sly smile.
“Caiyan McGregor.” He held his hand out to me.
OK, handshake, right. “No, I guess we ‘didnae get around to it before,’” I said mockingly. “I’m Jennifer Cloud, and this is my cousin Gertrude.”
“Call me Gertie.” She shook his hand. “So, it’s ‘Cayenne,’ like the smokin’ hot pepper?” Gertie asked.
A cocky grin spread across Caiyan’s face. “Well, it is spelled a little different, love, but if the shoe fits…”
Geesh, what a conceited piece of work, I thought while mentally smacking myself over the head for allowing him to be my first sexual encounter.
As we stood staring at each other, wondering what to do next, I felt a strange warm sensation around my neck. I reached up to touch my necklace, but it was gone.
“Oh no! I lost my necklace,” I said, looking around the ground for it.
“You cannae lose it,” Caiyan said, worry creases appearing between his eyebrows. “I
t disappeared from your neck because a brigand has taken it from one that belongs to you.”
“It disappeared?” I asked. “What do you mean one that belongs to me?”
“The necklace was taken from one of your ancestors. This is worse than I thought,” he said with a huff.
“Worse than what?” Gertie asked.
“Your necklace is a key. It is the reason ye are able to travel back in time.”
“A key to what?” I asked.
“The key to your vessel. You must have it in order to travel in your, um… outhouse.” Caiyan turned and looked down the hill at the small town.
“Where are we?” I asked, and Gertie leaned in to hear.
“It’s a secret for now.” He smirked, motioning for us to follow him. “We need to get somewhere safe, and then I will explain everything to you. Follow me.”
We walked down the backside of the hill, and damn if there wasn’t a horse tied to a tree. What was up with this man and horses? It looked like Caiyan had been camping at the base of the hill. He picked up a knapsack and untied the horse, but instead of climbing aboard, he led the animal by the reins, and we walked. I couldn’t help but wonder what or whom we needed to be safe from. Looking around, I saw nothing but rocks and trees. Maybe we were in Indian times, and he was hiding from an attack. I didn’t think getting scalped would be a happy ending. I needed my key and some answers. This man had a lot of nerve being mad because I didn’t know about my gift. I couldn’t help it if my family had secrets they’d forgotten to share. I caught up with him, leaving Gertie trailing behind me.
“What happened to the accent ye had the last time I met ye?” he asked me.
“I guess we all have secrets, yeah?” I caught a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.