Reichsmarschall finds himself back in Juliana's cell. He knows he should move on, but he is fascinated by her, by them, the travelers.
"Sir, Abendsen refuses to describe the films in detail." Smith glances over at Walter, displeasure plainly across his face. Walter continues, "But he said another one will be here soon, in a week or two."
"She's coming back." He mutters, turning on his heel. Walter follows him out.
"Will she return back here?" Walter asks, concerned.
"I don't know. We will have to find out." He enters Hawthorne's cell.
"I knew you liked her, John. I just had no idea how much you cared." Abendsen looks up at him. He has blood around his nose and mouth from his last conversation. John glances down and sees Walter's scraped and bloody knuckles. His mouth turns up. Loyalty is hard to find.
"Give us a moment." Smith says and Walter leaves.
"So, you want to know where your little bird will flutter back to, hmm?" Hawthorne's tone is taunting, and Smith cannot imagine how this man always manages to stay a few steps ahead even locked up. He must be a traveller, or have some other secret source of knowledge he is not sharing, not yet anyway.
"She's your puppet, isn't she? You ought to know what she plans to do." Smith crosses his arms and leans back, pretending not to be so incensed by Abedsen's attitude. He will play along until he gets what he wants, then this man is done for.
"Ah, that implies I can even see the strings… No, Juliana goes her own way more often than not. When she defected, which I may have prodded or planted the idea, I had no idea how much she would grow to care for your little family. It was rather...inconvenient." Abendsen appears to be telling the truth, his bloodshot, exhausted eyes aren't hiding anything when they search out John's.
"Johnny boy… can't you see that? That she is trying to help you as much as everyone else?"
Smith's patience is wearing thin. "And why, pray tell, do you all think I need help?"
Abendsen shakes his head. "You can't fool me, John. You've seen the films. You know he is alive out there. You know there is a space here… and you know there is a you, a million yous, who would hate what you've become here." Hawthorne's tone is almost patronizing.
"There is only one me that matters, Hawthorne. The one who will decide the fate of your wife's life." The words leave his mouth coated in imminent danger, his threat not lost on Abendsen.
"Let me see her." Hawthorne insists.
"Tell me where Juliana will return." Smith's words are punctuated with rancor.
"I don't know exactly… but I imagine she means to return here, actually." He meets John's gaze, his pale blue eyes defiant.
"That seems too easy." Smith unfolds his arms.
"She isn't trying to run from you, John. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can stop wasting all our time… and save my fucking wife" Hawthorne lays back in the bed to indicate he is done talking. John is frustrated by the power these rebellious travelers hold over him.
"Don't get too comfortable." Smith nearly spat as he turns to leave.
"No need for shock and awe, John. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I think the time for keeping secrets might be over soon enough." Abendsen hollers after him.
The door slams shut, ending their conversation.
oOoOo
"Congratulations, Miss Mills. We look forward to having you." The Principal, Mr. Jackson, leans over his desk to shake Juliana's hand.
It was a surprisingly simple interview. Although she is still confused why John told Mr. Jackson they were good friends. It seems Mr. Smith really did want her to get the job. She smiles at the thought as she leaves the office on her crutches.
The office administrator, Susan McMurphy, pulls out the chair at the desk beside her as Juliana comes out of the office. "I hear you're starting today!" She exclaims excitedly.
Mr. Jackson follows and responds, "Actually, I am going to let Miss Mills start next week, give her time to rest up."
Mrs. McMurphy looks a little discontented at the news.
"Don't worry, Mrs. McMurphy. We will have help in the office soon enough!" Mr. Jackson smiles. He clearly has a positive rapport with the school staff.
"Oh, alright Bill. I guess I can wait three more days." Mrs. McMurphy turns to Juliana. "I'm glad you're joining us either way, dear." Her expression is warm and kind.
Juliana nods, "Me too. Now if I can just find a room nearby."
"Oh, I think our nurse was looking for someone. Let me ask her and I'll give you a call later today." McMurphy leans over her desk to schedule it.
"Thank you all very much. I should probably go rest. I will see you Monday morning Mr. Jackson, Mrs. McMurphy."
"We are looking forward to it." Mr. Jackson says as he holds open the office door for her.
Juliana wanders down the hall and finds room 128. She leans against the lockers outside, knowing she has about 10 minutes until the end of first period. The interview had been casual, apparently they were more concerned with her immediate skills than her work history. She told them she had been a nanny back west for a well to do Japanese family, but had morphed into something of an assistant for them before they went back to Japan. She didn't have any letters of recommendation or persons to call, but spoke some Japanese to add authenticity. She feels a twinge of guilt at the web of lies she is spinning, but she knows it is mostly inconsequential here. She has to do her duty.
oOoOo
John glances up at the clock, counting down the seconds. 3, 2, 1. The bell rings.
"See you all Monday!" His students are in uproar. Fridays are always a little chaotic.
He looks over at the door, waiting. His mouth has gone a little dry in anticipation. He wonders if maybe she is too tired and opted to take the bus home. As he is about to busy himself rearranging items for the next class, she swings around the door.
"How'd it go?" He walks over and gestures to a desk at the side of the classroom for her.
"I start on Monday." She falls into the seat, glad to be off her ankle again. "I really am grateful." Her lashes flutter a little when she looks up at him.
John grins. "I knew they would take to you. The school really does need the help."
"John… Mr. Jackson said you told him we were longtime friends?" She raises an eyebrow in curiosity.
He shifts his weight, a little uncomfortable. He shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. "I guess I thought it would be simpler than saying, 'oh, her? She sprained her ankle in front of my house and because she is pretty, my son invited her inside and to stay the night.'"
Juliana laughs, a true, full laugh with abandon. It is the most absurd situation, and it is working. Plus, he did just say she is pretty.
"You're right… that would be completely ridiculous."
John runs a hand through his messy hair. Juliana thinks it looks good less tidy and wonders what the Reichsmarschall would think if she went back and told him so.
"I should get ready for the next class. We will be discussing To Kill A Mockingbird. Have you read it yet?"
Juliana shakes her head. "No, but I saw a copy at your home."
He goes to his desk to retrieve the same copy from his bag. "I've already read it three times… you can borrow my copy." As she takes it, their fingers brush a moment, and she looks down.
"Thank you."
The bell rings signally the break is over. Juliana begins reading as the room fills up and she glances up just in time to see John look away.
She is very much looking forward to Mr. Smith's lesson for the day.
oOoOo
Reichsmarschall Smith sits in yet another office above the quantum transfer device. It is smaller than the one in New York, but features all the usual decor.
He is looking again at the list of Juliana's deceased "confederates." He remembers killing a number of them himself in his earlier days. It's been a while since he pulled the trigger, but the faces are still familiar from all the reports. He knows there have been many travellers already, given there have been so many films based on the burned down barn they found at Abendsen's old residence, as well as those that Hitler had collected. He sighs, and looks out the small window. The elevation and the fact that the building is built into the cliffside provide a beautiful mountainous view.
He leans back in his black, leather chair and closes his eyes as he remembers a camping trip with his father spent fishing, hiking, climbing trees and exploring a similar looking range closer to home.
As his memory fades, his mind forces a glimpse of something else into view. Suddenly, he is sitting at a dinner table in a small house. Thomas is sitting beside him. Smith stares at his son, unwilling to pry his eyes away, but the vision shifts to across the table.
Juliana Crain.
He wants to grab hold of her, but he can't. Instead, he hears his voice say, "How are you feeling about your first day tomorrow?"
"Excited, actually." She serves herself some salad. They're also having pork chops and mashed potatoes. Smith notices two books on the table. He tries to read the titles but the him there is not focusing on them and so neither can he.
"I, uh, found you a room. Nurse Krendel called and said she does have a space since her son went away to college."
"Rhymes with Grendel," mutters Thomas.
John glares at his son again.
"Sorry, dad." He says, looking up from his food.
Reichsmarschall Smith wants to reach over and touch his boy but he can't control this body and he hates it. He feels trapped as he can only watch.
"Oh, thank you." Smith is sure he hears disappointment in Juliana's voice. "You really need to stop trying to take care of me, John. I don't have any way to repay your kindness."
"Well, there is one way." He teases.
He peers into Juliana's eyes, scanning them and finds a genuine fondness there, if not something more.
The vision dissolves and he feels like he is falling from a large height.
Reichsmarschall Smith snaps back to his present reality. He looks around the room, certain that he has not travelled. He wonders if he was somewhere between fantasy and a dream at the beginning of dozing off. Juliana was there… and he was eating dinner with her. There were two books. He wants to write it all down before he forgets the details and reaches for a pen, but as soon as he touches the paper, he pauses. He knows just how dangerous something like this could be for him if found out. He rests his chin on his left palm. Unknowingly, he plays with the pen in his right hand, slowly running his thumb over it.
Was that his Juliana Crain? His Juliana. The thought sickens him. Whoever that man is in that other world or fantasy, it is not him.
oOoOo
"There is one way." John teases across the dining table, then quickly realizes how inappropriate that sounds and coughs.
Juliana tenses as the scene feels eerily familiar. She remembers the awkward, unnerving drive from the Reich citizenship building to her new apartment with Obergruppenfuhrer Smith and the dangerous game they were playing then. She remember this is not him.
She sighs her relief. "Okay, I guess I will have to help with your school play…"
"Don't sound so hard pressed." John laughs.
"I was planning on going out for the school play! I'm actually pretty excited we are doing Julius Caesar." Thomas says excitedly.
"I know, and now the costumes won't be sown by Nurse Krendel." John smirks.
"Thank goodness. Last year's were horrendous."
"Indeed." John agrees.
As they finish eating, Juliana scoops up her two books and sets them on the couch before getting started on the dishes.
"It will be a shame to not have your cooking anymore." Thomas jests and John shoots him a look.
"Your dad can't be that bad." Juliana smiles to herself as she scrubs.
"Oh, I am. But thank you for suggesting otherwise." He carries in the last of the dishes and continues, "You don't have to clean, you cooked."
"And you let me stay here a few nights free and paid for the food. It's the least I can do." She insists and he leaves it at that.
"I have some homework to do tonight. Thank you very much for the wonderfully edible dinner, Julia." Thomas grins.
"Hah-hah!" John retorts as his son hurries up the stairs. He turns on the television and settles on the couch to watch the news. After a commercial, the reporter begins.
The news anchor stood in front of a decimated white church building, saying, "A bomb severely damaged a Negro church today in Birmingham, Alabama during Sunday school services, killing four Negro girls and setting off racial rioting and other violence in which two Negro boys were shot to death. Fourteen Negroes were injured in the explosion. One Negro and five whites were hurt in the disorders that followed."
"Dear God." John jumps up, hands balled into fists at his side. Juliana is already next to him with a hand over her mouth.
"Later, police shot dead a Negro youth after he threw stones at passing cars. Another Negro boy, aged 13, was shot dead while riding a bicycle."
"How could this happen?" She gasps.
"Those racist fucks. This whole damn country… it's a mess. We have to… we need to do something!" He does not realize he has raised his voice significantly.
Juliana stares at him. Despite his sloppy curled hair and his graying beard, there is a familiar fierceness in him. She wonders where it will lead.
"Some 500 National Guardsmen in battle dress stood by at armories here tonight, on orders of Gov. George C. Wallace. And 300 state troopers joined the Birmingham police, Jefferson County sheriff's deputies and other law-enforcement units in efforts to restore peace."
"Do what, John?" She honestly doesn't know and feels worried. She is learning about this world, but she still has no idea what people here are like when injustice and tragedy strike.
"March."
oOoOo
Thank for reading this far! Please review if you're still here ;)