SONS OF THE FATHERS

Chapter 11: Bedroom Talk

The door opened again and a dark-haired woman poked her head in.  "Better this morning?" she asked.  Joimus gaped at her.  It was the face on the brooch.  She stared silently a long moment and then stammered, "E...e...elizabeth?"  
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Elizabeth was slightly taken aback that the unknown woman not only knew her given name, but used it.  But, of course, everybody in New South Wales knew the name of the Governor's wife now that they'd been there 8 1/2 years.  It was just that no one but family and her closest friends ever called her that.  She decided to let it pass and, after her brief pause, continued on into the room.
 

"You have the advantage of me," she smiled.  

 

Joimus realized that Elizabeth wished to know her name and so she replied, "Joimus...Joimus Me...Meridius."

It was the first time she'd used her married name.  Elizabeth looked a bit puzzled at the name so Joimus hastened to add, "My husband is General Meridius, formerly of the...the...Italian army."  

 

Elizabeth's eyes widened a bit at this piece of information.  "You do not speak with an Italian accent," she observed.  

 

"Oh, I'm not Italian," Joimus hurried to explain.  "I'm American.
From Pennsylvania, actually."  

 

Elizabeth cocked her head a bit, interestedly studying the woman seated on the edge of the bed.  "How came you to be in New South Wales?" she asked.  

 

"I...I...was with the General last night. We were to meet at Mrs. Maqu...um, your chair...but I seem to have gotten somehow...lost."  

 

"Strange," Elizabeth continued, "I have not heard of the arrival in Sydney of any foreign dignitaries.  Surely your General would have come to Government House to pay his respects to the Governor?"

 

Joimus licked her lips, her mind racing.  "We...we...intended to come today," she said. That was true.  She'd wanted to take the old brooch there to turn it in. The brooch! What had happened to the brooch?  Her hand flew to her shoulder where she had been pinning it.  Of course it would not be on the night gown, now would it?  Perhaps it was still on her dress?  

Joimus felt a little uncomfortable under Elizabeth's intelligent gaze. "You were at my chair," she continued.  "That is where we found you last night.  My carriage driver, Joseph, and I brought you here.” 

 

"Um, where is 'here'?" Joimus asked.  "Is this the huge Government House on the far side of the Botanic Gardens near the Opera House?"

 

Too late she realized what she'd said.  

 

"Opera House? Sydney has no Opera House," Elizabeth replied, cocking her head again. "And I would hardly call this residence 'huge', my dear."  

 

"Then it's not the big old mansion?" Joimus asked, quite puzzled as she had seen the Government House quite clearly during her many walks in the park and she and Maximus had even explored its gardens quite extensively.  

 

"I fear I have no idea what you mean," Elizabeth said.  "This is just a smaller home we use when in Sydney.  Our main residence is an hour and a half by carriage almost due west in Parramatta.  There is also what I call 'Government Cottage' out in Windsor. But none of them pass muster as a 'mansion'. "  

 

Joimus bit her lip.  It would seem the big house in the Gardens had not been built yet.  When was 'yet'?  When was, for Pete's sake, NOW? How could she ask the woman what year it was?  

"You were very sick last night," Elizabeth said.  "I hope the child is well."  

 

"Oh," Joimus said, smiling and putting a hand on her belly.  "He seems to be quite fine."  

 

"He?" Elizabeth repeated.  

 

Joimus' mind scrambled.  "Um, well, I'm, um, hoping its a son...so I tend to refer to the baby as 'he'."  

 

"I have a son myself," Elizabeth smiled.  "Lachlan, named after his Papa.  He turned four last month."  

 

"I've always liked the name 'Lachlan', " Joimus said.  "I have a good friend who bears that very name."  Suddenly it occurred to her that their Mr. Curry had probably been named after the famous Governor.

 

"Is he part of your traveling party?" Elizabeth inquired.  

 

"Yes, he's our pilot." Again Joimus bit her lip. Ack! She must be more careful.  

 

"Pilot? Of your smaller boat?"  

 

"He, um, yes, um, gets us where we need to go," she blithered.  

"Where are you and the General staying?" Elizabeth asked.  "I could send a messenger to him apprising him of your current whereabouts."  

Joimus figured Woolloomooloo did not exist and was at a loss as how to answer.  "I, um, we, um, hadn't really got settled in yet," she stammered, grasping for words.  "So, um, I'm not really sure where he, um, is...right, um, now."  

 

Again Elizabeth's eyes widened.  How very mysterious this strange woman was proving to be!  "I shall ask the Governor to send some men in an attempt to locate him," she suggested.  

 

"Ooooh," Joimus said, her eyes darting from side to side, "I doubt...truly...that you will find him."  

 

"And why would that be?"

 

"He...he...he's probably off...somewhere, um, far away, right now...probably."  

 

"Would he not be looking for his wife?"  

 

Joimus blew out a long breath.  Of COURSE Maximus would be frantically looking for her.  She pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly at the thought of the pain he must be in right now.  

 

Elizabeth noticed the sparkle of tears in the woman's eyes.  Something very strange was going on with this one.  She came and sat next to Joimus on the bed.  "Is your husband truly a General, my dear?" she asked, beginning to suspect everything she'd just been told was a fabrication.  

 

Joimus nodded.  "Yes, yes he is." She closed her eyes, a mental image of Maximus in full uniform, cape flowing a bit in the breeze, filled her inward view.  She turned, taking one of Elizabeth's hands.  "I must get back to him!" she said, a tear rolling down her cheek.  Then she put her hands over her face.  "But I don't know how...I don't know how."

 

"You are truly lost, then?" Elizabeth asked, concerned.  

 

Joimus nodded.  "I am. I'm very lost."  

 

"But you are right here in Sydney," Elizabeth stated.  "How lost can that be?"  

 

Joimus looked at Elizabeth again.  "It can be so...very...lost," she said seriously. "More than you can imagine."  

Elizabeth felt most confused by all this.  "An American...married to an Italian General," she mused aloud.  

 

"He's not really Italian," Joimus said.  "He's Spanish. He was just part of the...Italian army."  

 

Elizabeth had never heard of any such sort of thing.  Perhaps the poor woman was mentally unstable; perhaps she had escaped from some asylum somewhere?   Still, she was quite pregnant and obviously in need of being cared for.  "You said you were to meet your husband at my chair?" she pursued.  "Where was he whilst you awaited his
arrival?"  

 

"He'd forgotten his cape and hurried back to get it.  I was cold."

"His cape?"  

 

"Um, yes."  

 

 

"They wear capes in the Italian army?"  

 

"Well, he's a bit, um, old-fashioned in his taste in clothing."  She was glad she'd not mentioned his cuirass and gladius.  

 

"And where might he have left this cape of his?"  

 

Good gravy! Was the woman a prosecuting attorney or something?
"At, um, dinner. He forgot it when we left after dinner."  

 

"So, you had found a place in which to dine!" Elizabeth smiled. "Perhaps he has returned there? I could send a messenger there."  

 

"No," Joimus gulped.  "I don't think that's, um, possible."  

 

"Not possible? Whyever not?"  

 

"It's...it's...too far away."
 

"How can it be at any great distance when he ran back there from near my chair?" Elizabeth was beginning to lose patience with the woman's tale.  She stood abruptly, looking down at the woman, tapping the toe of her shoe on the hardwood floor.

 

"I have offered you only kindness and assistance," she said firmly, "and yet you refuse to tell me the truth."  

 

"I have said nothing but what is true," Joimus replied, her chin quivering a bit.  

 

"Then there has to be more to your story than what you have said," Elizabeth continued, "and I must insist that you explain yourself to me."  

 

"I...I'm not sure I can," Joimus said, her eyes welling with tears.  "I've become... separated...somehow from my husband and my friends.  I...I...have no idea how.  But I must get back to them before Dess is born.  I simply must! Maximus cannot lose yet another son."  

 

"You use the word 'son' as though you know," Elizabeth remarked.  

 

Joimus nodded.  "I do know," she admitted, quite at the end of her rope with trying to explain yet not explain.  "His name is 'Dess', short for 'Decimus', his father's middle name."

"How can you possibly know such a thing?"  

 

Joimus gulped.  "Because...in my day...in my time...we have ways of doing that."  

 

There.  She had said it.  Now the men in white coats would be sent for and she would be locked away in some dark, miserable asylum for the rest of her life.  

 

"In your time?" Elizabeth repeated.  "What is 'your time'?"  

 

Joimus gulped again.  "2005."  

 

Elizabeth sat back down on the bed.  

 

Joimus turned to face her.  "What year is this, Elizabeth? I truly have no idea."  

 

Something about the strange woman was so sincere, her lostness, her yearning to be reunited with her husband, that Elizabeth felt a great pause in her judgment of her as either lying or worse.  "How can you not know what the year is?" she asked.  

 

"Because I only just arrived in it last night," Joimus explained.  "That's why I was so dizzy and nauseated.  I'd just...arrived."

"From where?"  

 

"From sitting on your chair in the year 2005."  A thought struck her and she slipped off her wedding band, handing it to Elizabeth.  "Read the engraving," she instructed.  

 

Elizabeth peered inside the gold band, turning it as she read, "My love encircles your heart...April 7, 2005."  Elizabeth blinked several times, then handed the ring back to Joimus.  

 

"1818," she whispered,"1818."  

Joimus exhaled long and slow.  "How will I ever get back?" she murmured, turning her head to look out the window.  "It's so...far. So very, very far."  

 

Looking again at Elizabeth, who had gone a bit pale, she added,

 

"Sydney is a great city, Elizabeth.  A huge, huge metropolis with buildings that tower up into the sky and bridges spanning the narrows of the harbor.  It's a marvelous, busy place.  But your chair is still there out at the point.  It's still there, Elizabeth, and everyone who comes to visit the Royal Botanic Gardens you started...all of them...want to sit in it.  You're not forgotten.  Not even after all this time."  

 

Elizabeth listened to her, trying to comprehend, trying to grasp the meaning inherent in the woman's words.  She was silent as her mind attempted to wrap itself about the concept so Joimus continued, "There is a great Wharf in the inlet just past your point.  It's called Woolloomooloo and has been made into a grand hotel and shops, restaurants, and apartments.  The General and I are staying at the apartment on the very end of the Wharf.  He's probably there,looking for me.  But if I go there...now...the Wharf won't exist.  I don't know how to get back to him."  

 

"How...how...did you get here...to 1818?" Elizabeth finally asked.  "What were you doing when it...changed?"  

A great breath burst out of Joimus.  Elizabeth was beginning to believe her!  "I was sitting on the long bench, waiting for Maximus...my husband...to return with his cape. Let me think."

She closed her eyes, taking herself back to the bench.  "The moon was lovely,casting its light over the harbor and the lawns.  I...I got up to look back at your chair.  I was thinking about you, wondering about the things you saw and thought when you would sit there. And...and...I saw the sparkle of something in a deep crevice and found an old brooch."

 

"A brooch? What did it look like?"  

 

"It was oval with braid around it and had a delicate portrait painted on it.  A portrait of you."  

 

"I lost that last month.  Little Lachlan and I had gone there for a picnic and it must have fallen off for when we returned home, it was gone."

 

"It had your initials engraved on the back," Joimus added.  

 

"Yes," she nodded.  "My dear husband gave it to me as a gift while I was carrying our beloved daughter, Jane."

"You have a daughter, too?" Joimus asked.  

 

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. "She lived but three months," she whispered.  "It was back in England. A long time ago now."  

 

"I'm so sorry," Joimus murmured, putting her hand atop Elizabeth's.

Elizabeth looked at Joimus' tummy.  "Is this your first?"  

 

"Yes...for me, but Maximus was married, um, some years ago and had a son."  

 

"Ah, so your child will have a half-brother then?"  

 

"No, he was killed before his 8th birthday."

"An accident?"  

 

"He was run down by horses."  Joimus decided to leave out the rest of the story.  

 

"How terrible!" Elizabeth exclaimed.  "I fear I watch over our dear little Lachlan with too close an eye.  After Jane, I don't think I could bear losing another."  

 

There was a light rap on the door and a serving girl opened it just a bit.  "Ma'am?  The Governor says he impatiently awaits your joining him at breakfast."  

 

"Oh, I completely forgot!" Elizabeth said.  "Would you care to join us...Joimus?"  

 

"I think I'll stick with the toast and tea here in my room. But I thank you for your invitation.  Do you intend to tell the Governor...about me?"

"Not presently, I think," she smiled.  

 

She crossed the floor toward the door, pausing when Joimus added, "Do you think we could go back to the chair later this morning?"  

 

"I think that might be arranged," Elizabeth nodded.

Joimus poured herself some tea and sat in a chair near the window.  She wasn't exactly sure where this house was, but figured it was near the Botanic Gardens as in 1818 Sydney had not yet become all that large. She hadn't finished telling Elizabeth about the brooch and so she sat quietly, going over and over it in her mind.  She remembered holding it in her hand, then sitting down on the bench and starting to pin it to her dress. That was when the world had started to tilt all out of whack.  Did the pin have something...anything...to do with that? Setting down her cup, she picked up her yellow gown, turning it so the bodice was in her hands.  No pin.  It must have fallen off back at the bench before whatever happened...happened.  She sighed.  That meant the pin was in 2005 and she was in 1818.  Not good.  Not good at all for getting back.  

She ate her toast, grateful yet again that the nausea had passed in the night.  Did time travel DO that to one?  It was a most unpleasant way to travel if that were, indeed, the case.  She changed back into her gown, running a brush she found on a dresser through her hair.  She'd just finished when Elizabeth returned.  

 

"Joseph is waiting out front with the carriage," she smiled.  "Are you ready to venture back to my chair?"  

 

"Most definitely!" Joimus replied.  "Perhaps there might be something we can discover that would help me return where I belong."  

Joseph helped the two women down from the carriage then returned to his seat in it to wait while they walked together to the outcropping.  

 

Elizabeth pointed to the niche atop the five steps.  "That's my actual 'chair'," she explained.  

 

 

"Oh," Joimus said, "I'd thought the bench was."  

 

"Often I have friends with me here," Elizabeth continued, "and thought it good to have more than one place for seating in such circumstances. But I do come here often alone." She looked up at her chair fondly.  "It is my 'special place' and very dear to my heart."  

 

Joimus walked toward the bench, stopping with a sudden, startled gasp.  

 

"What is it, my dear?" Elizabeth asked, concerned.  

 

"I...I'm not sure," Joimus replied, her eyes filling with tears.  She turned, reaching her hand out toward the space she'd just stepped through.  

 

"Maximus?" she whispered, a break in her voice.  There was nothing there, but for just that one instant she'd felt that same feeling as when in the computer in Toronto and she and he had occupied the same space at the same time.  Was he standing there?  In 2005, was he standing there?
 

She stepped back, closing her eyes as tears tracked down her cheeks. Yes, she could feel him all around her, in her, through her.  

 

"Oh, God...Maximus!"  She began to sob with her longing for him, sinking to her knees in the soft dirt, wrapping her arms about herself with the ache of it that filled her.  

 

Elizabeth, watching, began to cry herself.  For the first time she truly realized how lost this woman was.  

"I think I will...," Maximus was saying to Jack when a sudden inner wind blew through his being and then was gone.  He stopped, completely shocked, his lips parted in surprise.  

 

"Are you all right?" Jack asked, concerned at the expression on his friend's face.  

 

"I...I...thought...," Maximus said, shaking his head slowly. "But it's gone."  

 

Suddenly it returned...that inner wind as though his individual cells were floating in some current of air.  He gasped, pressing his right palm to his chest, his fingers spread wide as he closed his eyes.  He swayed slightly and a tear made its way out from under his lashes.  Jack thought Maximus might fall and began to reach toward him, intending to grasp his arm, but something...he didn't know what...stayed his hand. Looking at the General it suddenly seemed an intrusion to touch him, so he backed up a couple of steps, just waiting.  

 

Slowly Maximus sank to his knees on the hard pavement, his hand still pressed to his chest as though trying to get to something that he couldn't quite grasp.