Read Online Walk with Me Through Time (The Dimension Keepers) by Jennifer Conner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Conner
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ghost.
The atmosphere of the crowd was tight as the throngs rushed toward the town’s square. The smell of raw sewage and damp unwashed bodies wafted past him as the people pushed by.
Someone behind them shouted, “ Muoia ,” and a tomato sailed over their heads to explode on a wall like a crushed skull.
Hadley turned just in time to see an executioner dressed in black light a torch from a smaller fire. A man tied to a wood post in the center square screamed and fought to free himself. His skin crawled at the tortured sound. “What are the people chanting?” he asked.
“I believe they are shouting he’s a heretic and needs to die.”
Horror and realization hit. The smell of burning ham filled his nostrils. But it wasn’t ham, it was flesh. If he was an invisible apparition, why could he not be blessed to be void of his sense of smell?
Was Irvin doing the right thing? Why would he want to stay in this retched place? “Are you sure about this?” Hadley asked. “You will not be able to return to your other time once I leave you.”
Irvin nodded. “This is where I am meant to be.”
According to the time line for Irvin in Hadley’s inside jacket pocket, Brunelleschi, soon to be Italy’s premier architect, just finished his first commission. He hadn’t started the dome on the Florence cathedral… yet. Irvin needed to be there, for he was to be a part of it. Irvin would be a part of all of it.
Nevertheless, it was such a barbaric time. Hadley averted his eyes from the burning bones and rags of the man. Even if he could, he couldn’t intervene, he was only the guide. He must not challenge anything from the past. Thank God, he lived in the civilized world of 1889. England burned its last person at the stake a hundred years ago. Hopefully, no one would suffer this horrid death again no matter what their crime.
“If you are content with your decision and wish to stay, then my presence is no longer required.” He had to get out of there. He felt sick. He nodded once and moved away, leaving Irvin behind to blend in to the crowd. Hadley reached the door, quickly stepped through and slammed it closed.
He took several deep steadying breaths and tried to hold back the bile in his throat. Then he let his eyes sufficiently adjust to the darkness of the bookstore. “Arthur, I’ll be upstairs,” he called out.
Hadley tried to forget what he’d seen and realized for the first time he hated his job. To fulfil his family obligation, how many more months was he to be a guide? Just once, he wished time moved forward inside the bookstore.
****
Sam turned her face to the sky as the first raindrop bounced off her nose. She fished in her oversized purse until she found her umbrella and popped it open. The grey sky grew dark and she predicted an incoming storm. Since she’d lived in London, it felt like it rained most days. Coming from California, she missed the dry, warm climate.
Her business meeting brought her to Charring Cross and with a long lunch break; she took advantage of the extra time to do some window-shopping. She needed to get out of the office and get some fresh air. The reoccurring dream she had almost every night made it hard to sleep. Faces were blurred and events weren’t clear, but after she woke, she carried a sense of foreboding. Something bad happened, but she woke before finding out what. It was frustrating and exhausting.
The bookstore across the street seemed familiar. It looked like the one from her dream, but she was sure she’d never been on this street before. She waited for a taxi to pass then ran across the street.
Sam cupped her hand to the glass and looked through the window but couldn’t see the back of the shop. It appeared to go on forever. She read the small wooden sign above the door.
Second Chance Stories.
Used books— always a good thing. No one can ever die with too many, she mused. She had an e-reader, but still loved cracking open an old binding. Now that she’d
The atmosphere of the crowd was tight as the throngs rushed toward the town’s square. The smell of raw sewage and damp unwashed bodies wafted past him as the people pushed by.
Someone behind them shouted, “ Muoia ,” and a tomato sailed over their heads to explode on a wall like a crushed skull.
Hadley turned just in time to see an executioner dressed in black light a torch from a smaller fire. A man tied to a wood post in the center square screamed and fought to free himself. His skin crawled at the tortured sound. “What are the people chanting?” he asked.
“I believe they are shouting he’s a heretic and needs to die.”
Horror and realization hit. The smell of burning ham filled his nostrils. But it wasn’t ham, it was flesh. If he was an invisible apparition, why could he not be blessed to be void of his sense of smell?
Was Irvin doing the right thing? Why would he want to stay in this retched place? “Are you sure about this?” Hadley asked. “You will not be able to return to your other time once I leave you.”
Irvin nodded. “This is where I am meant to be.”
According to the time line for Irvin in Hadley’s inside jacket pocket, Brunelleschi, soon to be Italy’s premier architect, just finished his first commission. He hadn’t started the dome on the Florence cathedral… yet. Irvin needed to be there, for he was to be a part of it. Irvin would be a part of all of it.
Nevertheless, it was such a barbaric time. Hadley averted his eyes from the burning bones and rags of the man. Even if he could, he couldn’t intervene, he was only the guide. He must not challenge anything from the past. Thank God, he lived in the civilized world of 1889. England burned its last person at the stake a hundred years ago. Hopefully, no one would suffer this horrid death again no matter what their crime.
“If you are content with your decision and wish to stay, then my presence is no longer required.” He had to get out of there. He felt sick. He nodded once and moved away, leaving Irvin behind to blend in to the crowd. Hadley reached the door, quickly stepped through and slammed it closed.
He took several deep steadying breaths and tried to hold back the bile in his throat. Then he let his eyes sufficiently adjust to the darkness of the bookstore. “Arthur, I’ll be upstairs,” he called out.
Hadley tried to forget what he’d seen and realized for the first time he hated his job. To fulfil his family obligation, how many more months was he to be a guide? Just once, he wished time moved forward inside the bookstore.
****
Sam turned her face to the sky as the first raindrop bounced off her nose. She fished in her oversized purse until she found her umbrella and popped it open. The grey sky grew dark and she predicted an incoming storm. Since she’d lived in London, it felt like it rained most days. Coming from California, she missed the dry, warm climate.
Her business meeting brought her to Charring Cross and with a long lunch break; she took advantage of the extra time to do some window-shopping. She needed to get out of the office and get some fresh air. The reoccurring dream she had almost every night made it hard to sleep. Faces were blurred and events weren’t clear, but after she woke, she carried a sense of foreboding. Something bad happened, but she woke before finding out what. It was frustrating and exhausting.
The bookstore across the street seemed familiar. It looked like the one from her dream, but she was sure she’d never been on this street before. She waited for a taxi to pass then ran across the street.
Sam cupped her hand to the glass and looked through the window but couldn’t see the back of the shop. It appeared to go on forever. She read the small wooden sign above the door.
Second Chance Stories.
Used books— always a good thing. No one can ever die with too many, she mused. She had an e-reader, but still loved cracking open an old binding. Now that she’d
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