Kayla’s arrival from childhood into this new destination was nauseating, as usual. Her surroundings were a visual blur as she literally spun right into someone upon arrival. She felt herself hit the floor and her entire body ached with the hard connection of her hip with the linoleum. The stumble shouldn’t have hurt this much, but she wasn’t able to properly gauge a reason from her surroundings in these first seconds. Even so, it was a welcome relief from the tortuous confines of being a child. She closed her eyes to the vertigo and let out a breath knowing she was just going to have to wait it out.
Immediately the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, because something was off.
Before she could assess, Steve was picking her up off the floor; she didn’t see him, but she knew him, because she’d know his touch anywhere in any time; and for a moment the misgiving gave way to the utter happiness that he was here.
The room not yet at complete rest, Kayla was able to pick up the visual cues. She was at University Hospital. The walls around her and a nurse in full-blown white uniform complete with hat signaled the ‘80s timeframe. Kayla wanted to see her husband’s face, but she felt completely out of control to be put down. Instead she laid her head against his chest and let him carry her to wherever they were going. She felt his voice vibrating against her ear and froze in his arms. Her wits firmly about her, the audio cues told her exactly when she was, just about to the exact day. And that’s because there were no audio cues.
The body Kayla had arrived into was in complete and utter silence. Because this was June of 1988, and Kayla was deaf.
For a moment, she wasn’t sure which was worse, the timeframe she’d just left, or this one right now. But within just seconds she’d decided it was definitely the last one, because while she couldn’t hear a thing, Steve was right here, holding on to her. She didn’t know which Steve he was, but she did know that she hadn’t seen any version of him in six months, so right now, in this moment, with or without her sense of hearing, Kayla was happy to be here and just wanted him to hold her.
Clinging to her husband, Kayla cried tears of relief that the last jump was over and was comforted by the feel of Steve’s arms. Momentarily she would pray that this was her Steve, but right now she just didn’t care. She took several deep breaths and wiped her tears with the fist she also used to gather up his blue, sleeveless tee-shirt. He smelled so good, and she just thanked God.
Kayla felt the presence of Mike Horton just before Steve shouldered his way into her hospital room. The profound amount of nothing she heard as the activity swirled around her was completely disconcerting, and it was the first thing that started to draw her out of her joy for leaving the previous jump and into the here and now. Steve had placed her back into her bed and tried to release her, but she hung on, unwilling to let go of him. She didn’t want the hope that this was her Steve to be over, and she was too sure that it wasn’t to chance it. Her grip caused Steve to sit beside her on the bed and continue holding her. She took some last seconds of comfort in feeling his palm on the back of her head while she positively inhaled him.
Finally, Steve coaxed her out of his embrace enough to look him in the eye. My God, he looked so good. She was so happy to see him that she added more tears to the ones she’d already started. She never did learn to properly read lips, but she had retained enough of the skill to know that he was telling her she was alright but also begging her to talk to him. Steve touched her lips with his fingers trying to coax words out of them, and she just had to close her eyes. She hadn’t felt him like this in so long. But the look on his face when she opened them again made her heart finally and permanently sink, because he was … lost. He was near tears, himself. Not her bittersweet tears to be with him after their separation; but troubled, scared tears that the woman he loved was injured, nearly killed, deaf, and unable to speak.
Steve, do you remember Stockholm? She tried to say this, but nothing came out of her mouth. Shit, shit! This makes no sense! Just say it, goddammit! She tried again, but her voice wouldn’t come.
Mike’s hands were all over her as he tried to examine her after her fall. Steve had gotten up to give Mike more room. The doctor she’d last seen that very day as a fifth grader held her by the shoulders and kept talking at her like she could understand him. She could actually see him talking louder, as if that would help, his manner like a teacher trying to make a child understand. She did not, however, want to be examined and was absolutely done being told what to do and when to do it. She pulled away a lot more forcefully than she needed to and mouthed a silent yet effective, STOP. As a clinician, Mike’s face told her he was annoyed and concerned but also convinced that she hadn’t exacerbated her injuries from the explosion that took her hearing in the first place. It was the look on Steve’s face, though, that told her without the question that this was Destination Steve, not her own.
She dropped her head into her hands and sighed heavily, the absence of its sound inside her head drawing out more of her dread. Steve tilted her chin back up again and looked … worried, disappointed, and terrified all at the same time. He was asking her a question, what she had no idea. Mike said something to Steve then left, and Steve took his seat beside her on the bed again.
This was not Kayla’s first time at the rodeo, and despite her condition, it was she who had jumped first and, therefore, had the upper hand, here. It was up to her to figure out what to do next, and while her attention was mostly on Steve, her hindbrain did its level best to begin recalling where the important people were right now.
Steve took Kayla’s hands in hers and kissed her knuckles. She saw him speaking so tenderly to her. She couldn’t hear that his words were saying how much she’d done for him and that it was his turn now. That he was going to take care of her and get her through this. But his body language communicated enough to her to make her smile sadly. She knew how much he loved her. She crossed her arms over her chest and told him in a sign that he didn’t yet understand that she loved him, too. Then Steve leaned her back into his embrace.
Just then her husband froze in her arms, and his head fell heavily onto her shoulder. She, literally, felt him suck in air and grasp her very tightly. Oh, thank God! That was very quick, especially compared to the last several-month gap in their 1970/71 arrivals. Kayla’s eyes were so sore from all the crying this body had been doing for two days straight, but she couldn’t help it when they watered with more, happy tears that her Steve had arrived.
Steve was in the dining hall with a spoon of mashed potatoes on the way to his mouth when the tug came to his diaphragm. This one wasn’t as strong as others had been, but it was unmistakable. He’d suspected his time here in 1971 was coming to a close a couple days before when a truly unhinging depression had washed over him. He couldn’t shake it, and the fact that it had come with the complete inability to focus on anything reminded him of the day he and Kayla had jumped away from Stephanie just minutes down the road from here. Marcus had to nudge him several times in the past two days to get his attention redirected to wherever it was supposed to be. The frequency of Marcus having to do this truly annoyed him. He’d asked his friend what more than his usual weirdness was going on, but Steve chose not to share it with him. The last thing he wanted to do was tell his best friend that he was about to cease to exist, so he just weathered it and hoped he was right about this and jumped soon.
Now that the moment was actually upon him, the relief was profound; this one was over! Only he also felt a strange sadness to know this version of Marcus was, indeed, about to disappear forever.
Steve harnessed a great amount of control in calmly placing his spoon down and taking Marcus’s hand from across the table. “Homey,” he said quietly.
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. In my whole life.”
Marcus kind of looked around to see if anyone had heard this exchange but smiled with some pride. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you think I’m gonna go poof,” he jibed. Only Steve’s face was serious as a heart attack. “Oh man,” Marcus’s face fell, “are we goin’ poof now?”
The room was hanging completely askew now, but Steve kept his eyes solidly on Marcus while he held on to the fist he’d made in his best friend’s hand. Steve nodded very slightly and squeezed harder as the room tilted more. “See ya next time, Homey. Thanks for everything.”
In the next blink Steve was in a sitting position being held by a woman that he prayed to God was Kayla. He was relieved that the jump effect wasn’t one of the bad ones and just moaned as he let the nausea pass. Then he smiled, because this woman holding him was rubbing her hand gently over his back while the other one held his face in her palm. There was no doubt this was Kayla.
“Which one are you, baby?” Steve asked with his heart beating excitedly in his throat. “Do you remember Stockholm?” Steve slowly opened his eyes even though the room wasn’t settled yet. “Please tell me you remember.” Kayla didn’t reply but continued her affectionate gestures while Steve’s eye focused. His vision told him two things. One, he was back down to one eye; two, they were in a hospital. “Sweetness?” His tone had changed from eager to vexed, yet she was still silent. Maybe it’s not her. Oh God, don’t let this be Britta.
Kayla could sense that he’d arrived into himself and pulled back to look at him. The look on his face was utter relief.
“Sweetness! Baby!” That’s when he realized she was the one in the hospital and had some kind of a head injury. He wanted to hold her, but if she was hurt he was afraid to damage her. Was this her? How long had she been here, and why wasn’t she answering him? “Kayla? Talk to me. Why are you …”
Kayla put her fingers to his lips. She made the letter “D” sign with her fingers and pointed from her ear to her chin. Steve’s face fell. It was the sign for “deaf.” Now it was his turn to not need their Stockholm question to know which Kayla he had. He understood everything he needed to know. This was his Kayla, and they’d jumped into a time when Harper Devereaux’s explosion had caused her to become deaf.
“Kayla … no … no …” But the look on her face said it all. He sighed heavily and palmed her face. Her skin was so smooth and soft. It felt so good to touch her again. Kayla closed her eyes to the feel of his hands on her face, and Steve was happy in this brief moment to have this tangible connection to her. “Can—can you speak?” he asked when she opened her eyes again. He patted his fingertips over his lips then hers and asked her again.
Kayla opened her mouth and tried to say something, but the words just would not come out of her mouth. She rubbed a frustrated hand up over her hair and shook her head. But it’s me! she said in her head as she urgently pointed to herself then made the sign for “here” with short circles of her forearms with her palms facing up. I’m here! Kayla wanted to tell him she just got here and that it had only been ten minutes and that she was so happy to see him so quickly and she’d missed him so much and was he ok after all these months and how hard it had been for her without him trapped in that body and thank God they had Marcus and Mrs. Horton and she missed Stephanie so much and still woke up thinking she was in their little house in LA …
… but she couldn’t remember how to sign any of that. Not really. Not at the moment, anyway. Her ASL was rusty, and she knew that Steve’s was going to be worse. Her watery eyes darted around the room looking for something to write on, but Steve took her face in his hands and just held her there.
“It’s ok,” he said. “It’s gonna be ok.”
Kayla held his onto his hands and nodded. Then she held up her right hand and signed, “I love you.” That one they both remembered. Steve signed it back, and they both let out the breaths they didn’t realize they were holding. Steve said it, Kayla mouthed it, then they grabbed each other back into a fierce embrace. Kayla smiled through fresh tears, and Steve caressed her hair. Things were going to be difficult if they didn’t jump away from this, but for now they were just so happy to see each other. Kayla wanted to kiss her husband, but she didn’t want to let him go long enough to do it. And that was ok with Steve as he reveled in the feel of his wife in his arms. He kissed her temple and rubbed his cheek on her soft hair, and it felt so good when she burrowed her head into his chest. They were back together. Finally, they were back.
Steve and Kayla were still holding each other when a short woman with blonde, curly hair and a white lab coat quietly entered the room. “This must be Kayla,” she said.
Steve jumped at the unexpected voice, and Kayla jumped at Steve’s reaction. Unfortunately, it brought both of them out of the moment, and all they could do was stare blankly at her as they struggled to ground themselves. Steve stood up, but Kayla took his hand in a vice grip, her eyes pleading with him not to. He could see that she was on edge now, but before he could sit back down, the woman was both speaking and signing. Kayla stared a little wide-eyed as the woman told them her name was Peggy and handed a pad of paper to them with her written story. Steve took it, his motions on an absent kind of automatic.
Neither of them had seen this social worker for the hearing impaired in the community in all these years of jumping, but they sure did remember her. She was important to them at this time and helped get Kayla through her sudden silence. It began this very day that she’d taught them their first sign: Courage. It had become their mantra throughout their lifetimes, especially over this most recent jump to 1971. They’d kept in good touch with Peggy, even today back home in 2009. Unbeknownst to Peggy, Kayla understood quite a bit of what the woman was signing; Steve not as much. But the connection the therapist was able to make their first time through this somehow transcended now into their second.
The therapist reached for Kayla, and something about her compelled Kayla to finally drop Steve’s hand. When she took Peggy’s, something very real about this destination shifted into place, and Kayla suddenly felt the silence like an icy pall. They both watched Peggy will the courage into them with the teaching of this sign, and when they each repeated it, it wasn’t for show; they knew they were in for a difficult time of it but couldn’t help but feel the comfort of the sign’s veracity.
They smiled at her warmly as Peggy left, but the moment was fleeting. Mike entered, and now they were being hammered with dismissal instructions, follow-up orders, forms, and anything but the ability to be alone. Kayla wanted to just get up, get dressed, and leave, but instead she played along and did what she had to do. Both she and Steve tried a few signs back and forth, some of which were understood, but not without their written notes to supplement. When they finally left it had been a whirlwind.
Steve and Kayla just wanted to get home as they walked hand tightly in hand to the hospital parking deck. No clue which spot the car was parked in. They just kind of looked at each other as they stood alone in the dark parking deck, the surreality of their situation enveloping them. All they could do now is try to locate the car. Their frustration built as they looked for it before finally finding it. They climbed in and took the surreal ride home, which today was the loft. Their frustration didn’t ebb, however, as they couldn’t communicate at all as Steve kept his eye on the road.
Finally home, they immediately went for every drawer and cubby looking for pads of paper. Their collective blood pressure was rising as they madly scribbled clipped phrases and half sentences, sacrificing accuracy for speed, desperate to talk to each other.
Missed you like crazy / Last jump was so hard, they wrote at the same time, quickly turning the pads for each other.
Wanted to come home / Missed you more, they replied
You ok? / Almost ran away.
“When you got here? Or the last one?” Steve verbally asked.
Kayla signed, “what?” with her palms up and her eyebrows knitted together. While Steve wouldn’t have remembered the sign if he’d needed to use it, he did understand it when used by Kayla. He tried signing it, but Kayla stopped him and pointed back to his pad of paper.
Steve rolled his eye at himself. “Idiot,” he said under his breath. You almost ran away when? Now or 71?
Kayla pointed to the “71” on the paper. Steve nodded with sadness and pointed to himself. “Me, too.” Kayla squeezed her husband’s hand.
Kayla looked away in an effort to remember how to say something while Steve started writing again. When they both looked up they were talking over each other in their own methods, immediately acquiescing to the other, starting over, doing it again, and ending up in utterly exasperating confusion.
“What?” Kayla signed; “What?” Steve asked.
Then they both flipped to their next sheets and wrote, Go ahead / You first.
This was insane.
Steve loudly cursed, threw his pad of paper across the room, bounded up off the couch, and paced in anger. “This is bullshit, Kayla!” Steve yelled. “This,” he pointed angrily to the floor, “is BULL.SHIT,” over-enunciating each syllable so Kayla could see his words loud and clear. Kayla’s eyes were still red from the days of sobbing her body had done before. She was no less upset than Steve was but manifested her own anger in dark silence within herself. Fresh tears now brimmed as she sat in stillness watching her husband explode.
“I was just gettin’ used to our lives out there! Again!” He was signing in his own homegrown hand movements to augment his words, very much making him a holistic embodiment of wild frustration. “I had a job! We had each other! We had Stephanie! Then we get pulled into ’71.” He threw up seven fingers then one. “We can’t talk to each other, and now we’re here where we still can’t fucking talk to each to each other!” Steve went to the fallen pad of paper and picked it up. “I don’t even know how long you’ve been here! ‘Cause I don’t remember the words, and we can’t write fast enough!” Steve threw the pad against the fireplace wall, then turned his back to stew with his hands on his hips.
Kayla didn’t have to know what he was saying … to know what he was saying. She didn’t have to hear him continue to erupt in anger at how unfair this was to feel how unfair this was. And she didn’t have to listen to his desperation to be with her to feel her own desperation to be with him. Kayla couldn’t hear Steve’s words or read his lips. Their ASL wasn’t strong enough to have a meaningful conversation. And neither of them were patient enough to talk one hand-written thought at a time. But Kayla knew how to communicate with her husband.
Kayla stood up, came around the back of the couch to the hearth, and swiped the tears from her cheeks. She gently embraced him around the waist and laid her head between his shoulder blades. Steve turned his head slightly to acknowledge her, before letting her turn him around. She stared her glassy eyes up into Steve’s and held her warm palms against his cheeks. Steve rubbed his thumb against his wife’s bottom lip, and they searched for each other in their own silence. Soon Kayla’s soft lips were kissing Steve’s. Her loving touch sent warmth through his body. Steve kissed her back and held her in his own loving embrace.
They continued with deepened kisses while allowing their hands to roam, fondle, and caress. Steve lifted his shirt over his head, and Kayla dropped wet kisses onto his tattoo; His skin tingled at her touch. He stroked his hands up and down her arms then reached them around to unzip her dress. Kayla stepped out of it while Steve did the same with his jeans. They stood nearly naked before each other for several moments before Kayla crossed her arms against her chest and squeezed. “God, Sweetness, I love you, too,” he whispered as he returned the sign.
Kayla took Steve’s hand and placed it over her bare breast. He closed his eye to the feel of her smooth flesh in his palm. It’s been so long since I touched you, baby. He said it only in his head, but Kayla heard it in the tender strokes. She took his other hand and held it against her cheek. She closed her own eyes, kissed his palm, and then again laid her cheek against it. When Kayla looked back up at her husband, she felt his longing combine with her own.
Kayla pressed her body against Steve’s and felt his erection against her belly. Their kisses had become passionate, filled with heat, but no less tender. She pulled him down to the floor, the area rug in front of the hearth soft beneath them. She needed to feel him inside of her. And he needed to feel the comfort of her body surround him.
Steve held her head against his neck as she suckled and gently nipped. Then he let her guide him to lay back. He lifted his hips as she pulled down his underwear to release his erection before she removed her own. They both gasped as Kayla straddled then lowered herself upon him, unimaginable relief coursing through them as their souls joined for the first time in so long.
Steve whispered Kayla’s name in contented sighs and stroked her thighs as Kayla made love to him, hearing her joy despite her silence.
Kayla felt a deep connection with Steve that transcended their sexual union. When she looked down into the deep green of his eye and laced her fingers into his, she knew his love like she knew herself. She knew his pain like she knew her own – and the respite in their joining. I love you so much. The words were like colors glowing within her.
Steve and Kayla’s sexuality was always expression. Now as the early evening sun gave way to the horizon, the last light of the day streamed in through the large front windows to illuminate their faces. And that expression was nothing short of beautiful.
Kayla’s breathing quickened. She bent to kiss her husband, then straightened again to ride relentlessly against his shaft. Steve moaned with the pleasure of their lovemaking, enjoying watching her movements on top of him. Steve let go of Kayla’s hands to cup her breasts in his palms. He caressed her hardened nipples with his thumbs and huffed out shortened breaths when she reacted by squeezing herself around him. Their orgasms nearly upon them, their movements became frenzied until Kayla’s climax washed over her in a crashing orgasm. It illuminated her dark silence, warmth shooting through her with every wave of pleasure. Steve’s eye was closed as his wife trembled on top of him, but he felt when her essence released around his penis. Kayla bucked while Steve’s strong arms supported her. When he opened his eye, the look of sexual gratification upon her face sent him over the edge, and his own orgasm erupted. He poured his love into Kayla in hot pulses. He never wanted the tender, hot, rapture to end. He wanted to stay inside of her not just right now, but forever.
Kayla clung Steve’s arm against her chest as she slowly came down. Her eyes still closed, she dropped wet kisses onto each of his fingers. Then his knuckles before rubbing her face against his palm. When she finally opened her eyes, Steve was looking up at her, a single tear streaking a path down the side of his face.
“I love you,” she read his lips.
“I love you, too,” she mouthed back to him.
Still connected with their combined essence pooling between them, Kayla laid herself down on top of Steve. She felt his heart beat against her cheek and burrowed.
Steve smiled, very happy in this moment. There were going to be challenges if they were here long, not just with Kayla’s deafness but with what was happening in Salem right now. But here, in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Steve was happy.
“You always were the smart one, Sweetness.”
Kayla didn’t know what he said but felt his words vibrate against her. Steve felt when she smiled. She was happy, too. Happy she could center him. Give him bliss. And show him what she could not say to him.
This was not going to be a cakewalk. But they were together. And as they held each other in the quiet of this home they’d made together so many times, the knowledge of what they had to do began a soft, slow rumble deep within them. They weren’t going through anything like 1971 ever again. And they were done waiting for their fate to find them.