Chapter Twenty-Five – Clear Day in April
Once more, the Thorn family was walking up the still-unpaved road to the top of the hill, where the future owner of this town would build Collinwood. Quentin, Amanda, and Jamison visited this site once a week. The townspeople merely thought them odd; Quentin explained to his customers that his family likes to be alone in nature for a while, and he complies. Whatever the townspeople thought, they surely could not know that they climbed the hill every week to look for a giant warp in time that brought the family from the year 1972.
Quentin helped Amanda and Jamison over the last treacherous bump in the road. Amanda straightened up, and saw the forest uncut, the way Isaac Collins would see it when he docks in 1690. The everlasting beauty of the woods took her breath away. "No wonder the original Collins wanted to live here," Amanda said breathlessly.
"Yes, it is beautiful," Quentin said, squinting ahead, "C'mon, the path is this way."
The threesome weaved their way around trees and other types of shrubbery before walking up to the spot where they had landed four months ago. Quentin sat down, leaning against the tree, while Amanda stared at the spot, and clutched Jamison tightly. After twenty minutes, Amanda glared at Quentin. "How can you just sit there?"
"Amanda, we've tried everything to bring the warp here," Quentin sighed, "We've tried re-enacting what we were doing at the time, we've tried pleading, we've tried being nonchalant. Nothing has worked so far; so I'm just sitting here."
Amanda scoffed, and kneeled next to Jamison. "Jamsey, sweetheart," Amanda said, "Maybe you can bring the warp back."
"How?" Jamison asked.
"Try calling to it," Amanda suggested.
"Mister warp," Jamison cried, "Please come back."
Amanda and Jamison stood, staring at the appointed spot, but nothing came. Quentin sighed behind them. "Calling to it won't bring it back. It's not human."
"Well, of course it's not, Quentin," Amanda spat as she turned around to face him, "I am desperate to get back."
"I am, too," Quentin said defensively as he stood and walked over to his wife, "I just think we have to wait a little while longer for it to return."
"Oh, where is it?" she cried. "Doesn't it know that we don't belong here?"
"We don't belong in 1972, either," Quentin said softly, "Whatever it is, it knows we belong in the past."
"But not this far back!" Amanda wailed. "Besides, Jamison belongs to the future."
"Hold on, Amanda," Quentin said, attempting a smile, "Jamison belongs with us."
Amanda and Quentin hugged; meanwhile, unbeknownst to the parents, Jamison saw a chipmunk scurry into a deeper part of the woods, and he scampered after it. Amanda saw this action out of the corner of her eye, and cried, "Jamison!" before running after him.
Quentin looked around to see where his wife and son had gone. He saw Amanda's skirt trailing behind her, and he ran fast to catch up with them.
Jamison, unknowingly the front of the line and the cause of the chase, finally caught up to the chipmunk, and held it in his hand. The chipmunk was trembling in his hand, scared of what this big creature was going to do to it. Jamison, however, raised a solitary chubby finger, and stroked the chipmunk's head gently. Amanda arrived, breathless, with Quentin right behind her. Amanda hugged Jamison tightly, saying, "Oh, honey, don't ever run away like that again! Oh, you have Mommy such a fright, darling!" She released the child, and smoothed his jet-black hair, which was mussed from running. She looked down to the small woodland creature in his hand. "What is that, darling?" she asked.
"Me can keep it?" Jamison asked hopefully.
"I don't know," Amanda said, trying to think of a single reason why Jamison couldn't keep a pet chipmunk, "Quentin?"
"Hell, yeah," Quentin laughed, rubbing his hand over Jamison's hair, messing it up even more, "What are you going to name it?"
Jamison stared at the chipmunk as if in thought. "Gway Spots," he said finally.
"Gray Spots?" Amanda asked curiously. "Why Gray Spots?"
"Look," Jamison said, holding up the chipmunk to his mother's point of view.
She saw the chipmunk, whose base color was brown, but had almost undetectable gray spots all over it. "Oh," she said, "Gray Spots. I get it." Amanda laid a hand on his shoulder. "But you'll have to feed and water it every day. Your father will fashion a cage for it today so it won't run away. Okay?"
"Okay," Jamison said cheerfully, "What Gway Spots eat, Mama?"
Amanda looked at Quentin, her eyes demanding that he answer the question. Amanda had no knowledge of woodland animals ate, since she grew up in New York City. Quentin cleared his throat and said, "Fruits, berries, seeds, mushrooms, and insects."
Jamison smiled, and told the chipmunk, "Me gonna take care of Gway Spots. Gway Spots an' me gonna be best fwend."
"Of course he is, darling," Amanda said tearfully. She held her child close to her, remembering the fearful jolt in her stomach when she realized he was running away. That must never happen again – never!
As promised, that afternoon Quentin made a wooden cage for Gray Spots. Jamison happily introduced the chipmunk to his new home, and fed him the fruits and berries he can picked from outside; also, the child gave him a bowl of water. The chipmunk seemed at ease, so Quentin called upon the Shaw household to see if Honora could babysit his son that evening. Honora could not say no to the massive amount the Thorns were going to pay her: twenty-five guineas.
Honora arrived at five o'clock that evening so Quentin and Amanda could take their leave. As soon as they were outside, Quentin asked his wife, "Where do you wish to go, my dear?"
A strong wind came, bringing with it a sweet, salty smell. "The ocean," she said wistfully.
Quentin nodded, and they trekked to the ocean. When they arrived, the sky was giving them notice that the sun would be setting soon. Quentin and Amanda stood a few feet away from the ebbing tide, and watched the ocean's waves pound upon the sandy shore. Quentin wrapped his arms around his wife's waist as she leaned on him for support. "I love you, Quentin," she whispered.
"I love you, too, Amanda," Quentin said as he leaned to kiss her cheek. "God, how I love you." With those sweet words still lingering on his lips, he kissed her mouth with fiery passion.
Still weak emotionally, Amanda said, "Let's find a log and watch the sunset."
Quentin nodded, and scanned the beach with his eyes until they fell upon a large piece of driftwood that had washed up on shore. He took Amanda's hand, and they sat on the sturdy log. They watched in amazement as the sky turned shades of red and pink. As the sun sank below the horizon, Quentin and Amanda saw in themselves the happiness each had brought to the other; they shared a kiss for the last few moments of daylight on that clear day in April.