Steve was nervous. And a little bit awed. All of their jumps had been to the past, but this was the first one that felt like an actual time warp. Most decades were distinctive in their own way, but now, sitting in this enormous taxi headed down the old school, relatively underdeveloped streets of Salem toward the Brady Fish Market, the groovy, awakened year of 1979 was staring him in the face like a movie screen.
Shops that had seen their heyday long before he arrived in Salem flew by as he looked out the back passenger window of the yellow cab that clearly just rolled off the lot. In 1978. The driver was 70 if he was a day, the pale skin of his face sunburned even here in winter from a career behind these non-UV protected windows. White whiskers poked out from his bobbing chin as he made small talk with Bo, who was so young and so eager to chat with pretty much anyone. Steve stole a quick, admiring glance at his friend, knowing the life that was ahead of him. For some reason, a picture of his son, Zac, came to him; a boy he never met or had the opportunity to mourn. Steve could not imagine burying his children. The grown up versions or the infant ones. The thought brought a stab of sadness for Bo that Steve didn’t really know what to do with. It was part of the weird dichotomy that living in any jump, but definitely this one, always brought him. Steve was Bo’s friend in 2009, his brother-in-law, his equal. But right now in the back of this cab, Steve was more of Bo’s mentor and big brother. Bo looked to Steve for not just friendship, but guidance. He looked up to him, and Steve realized how much he missed this warm and nurturing feeling he’d had for Bo all those years ago.
This whole jump was feeling good on Steve. He missed Kayla, and the suspense now in the back of this cab was killing him. But the routine of the Alva and solid presence of Bo were a true respite for Steve. And it wasn’t that hard to fall back into that routine of this far simpler time in his life when he wasn’t dodging one curve ball after another.
It was a bit of a tortuous respite, however. Seven days had gone by since he’d found himself on the big container ship, and he hadn’t heard his wife’s voice since the call he’d made in Marseille. He knew she’d jumped in by now, and part of him was hoping he’d be the one who’d be woken up at 0300 with an “emergency phone call” from the States. He’d even dreamt about it. His wife’s voice on the other end of a ship-to-shore extension on the Officer’s Deck. He’d realized how well-liked he was, and in his dream, men were looking at him with admiration and envy as he strolled past the big wheel of the boat and into the high ranking office to take his completely out of the norm phone call from the most beautiful woman in the world. I’m here, Kayla said to him. You won’t believe what I look like, it’s amazing! But her voice … her voice was the one that cooed to their baby boy and pointed out the elephants in the Salem Zoo. Her voice was the one he would know and love so many years into his future. And when he saw her in his dream, imagining what she looked like as she told him how young she looked, all he could see was the older, more lined face with eyes that never changed that he’d gone to sleep with in 2009. I can see you now, Sweetness, he replied to her in his dream, you’re so beautiful, aren’t you? When he woke up, his heart pounded. It was only a matter of time before she’d be in his arms.
Steve did try to call Kayla two more times. He wasn’t sure he was going to get away with posing as the phone company again, but it didn’t matter, because neither of those opportunities worked out. He couldn’t get another liberty until two days later, and when he called no one answered. No answering machines back then, either. He rolled his eyes and putzed around the Marseille docks for another hour, then used the last of the money he’d taken off ship to try again. Someone was definitely home when he tried that time. And he knew they were home because of the busy signal, which shocked the hell out of him. A sound now equivalent to a dying language, the pre-digital irritation was a real shock as it blared its obnoxious tone into Steve’s ear. He actually pulled the phone away from him and looked at the receiver as if the thing was in on it. “For real?” Steve uttered like a fool as he stared at the beige monstrosity that passed for a public telephone in Europe. “I don’t believe this sh*t.” Steve hung up, told the phone to go f*ck itself, and then stormed back to the ship. He was so hopped up that he unwisely got halfway to the Officer’s Deck to try to sneak a call in before he found his head and went back to his bunk.
The final opportunity was right before they took the jump seats on the bulky cargo plane Steve had arranged for practically free from Barcelona to the States, which was right in the middle of the night US time. He didn’t care, he had to let Kayla know where he was, it had been seven days, and he was well-beyond twitchy at the unsubstantiation of his wife’s whereabouts.
Shawn Brady answered the phone with a just woken up tone that wondered who died. Steve had not expected that. He figured when the phone rang at midnight that Kayla would know it had to be him and ensure she was the first one to the phone. It’s midnight, dude, doesn’t matter who’s in there, she’s sleeping. Steve rolled his eyes.
“Hello, I said,” Shawn insisted with a commanding tone mowing its way through the sleep. “Who’s there?”
“Shawn, what is it,” Steve heard his mother-in-law say in the background.
“I dunno, they ain’t talkin’.”
“Then hang up, for God’s sake, you have to be up in four hours!”
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Steve realized the folly of this too late. Shawn would be much younger than when he first met him and would still be waking up before the sun came up to catch fish for the day. Now he’d gone and woken him up. Steve looked up in frustration and willed Kayla to burst in and insist the phone was for her. But she didn’t. So, he simply hung up the phone. This just isn’t fair.
That was 12 hours ago. Steve should have been exhausted and frayed from the very loud and bumpy ride where the primary passengers were cargo that had just previously been the guests of container ships and, therefore, didn’t need to care about comfortable amenities. On the contrary, he’d never been more awake.
Seven days and no jump, and finally Steve was home. He’d been so worried that he’d leap away without having connected with Kayla, and frankly, he was surprised another jump hadn’t taken them. But now the moment was upon them as the taxi stopped in front of the Brady Fish Market.
“Hey, Steve, we’re here!” Bo said with an excitement he just couldn’t contain.
“Yeah,” same open sign and everything,” Steve said appreciatively.
“Same as what?”
Watch it. “Nothin’, I’m just worn out from the trip,” he said with anticipation. “Wanna get in there, already.”
“Yeah?” Bo was proud, he couldn’t help the broad smile that spread across his face. Steve could see how excited the kid was to introduce his friend to them, and it made him feel good.
“Yeah,” Steve smiled. Just then his stomach lurched from another wave of anticipation. He was so anxious that he didn’t even stop to run his hand admiringly over the bumper belonging to this fine piece of beauty from Checker Motor Corp. Michigan didn’t put out automobiles like this anymore, and if it had been any other day in 2009 he, certainly, would have, but his head was 30 years ahead of this 1979 day, and he could barely stand the separation from his wife one moment longer.
“That’ll be $6.50,” the cabby said in a gruff voice that matched his weathered face. Steve chuckled that this ride was going to cost less than ten bucks. He went for his wallet, but Bo stopped him.
“I’ve got it. You’re my guest, least I can do for getting me home, man.”
You, Steve thought, are a 17-year-old kid who ought to be a senior in high school. But he shook the thought away, because there wasn’t any point. Bo gave the cabbie $8 and the two strapping young men grabbed the large green packs from the trunk. Bo’s had his essentials with the bulk of what he owned still in his bedroom beyond that white door in front of them. Steve’s duffel, however, contained every single thing he owned in this world, including the shoebox containing the remnants of his childhood. It had brought tears to his eyes when he packed it up on the boat the other night.
Both men made their way up the short walk, about four inches of snow lining each side that Shawn had shoveled from the path. Steve could see the excitement on his best friend’s face. It wasn’t just to see his family, but also to introduce Steve to them.
“They’re gonna be shocked to see us,” Bo smirked. “Might give my pop a heart attack.”
“Still glad you made this visit a surprise?”
“Oh yeah, now Ma will be too busy cryin’ to tell Pop to kill me.”
With that Steve was now out of patience. His stomach was doing flips of anticipation, and he did everything he could to not pick up Bo and drag him in, himself. Finally, Bo opened the door and led his friend into the place that Steve had to now pretend was a new experience for him. The bell above their heads rang, and the sound and smell of the fish market brought him right back to those days when he’d come visit Max and Frankie and eventually manage the place for a little while.
Steve’s awareness was on hyperdrive as he scanned the room for Kayla. It was lunchtime in Salem, and there were customers at all of the tables. The first person he saw was Shawn behind the counter to his right facing the wall. “Be right with ye,” he yelled over his shoulder as he wrapped up an order in white paper for a customer. At that moment Caroline came out of the back with a swish of the swinging door. She looked up at her son and did a double take before she froze. Her blonde hair was a much richer shade of her natural blonde with a dark lowlights amongst the honey shade that was so like Kayla’s.
“Bo?! BO!” Steve couldn’t help but smile at the look in her eyes and thought she’d never looked so happy in her whole life.
“Hi Ma,” Bo said sheepishly. “Shawn, it’s Bo!”
“I heard ye, woman, I think MacGruder’s Market on 3rd heard ye, too,” Shawn scolded, but Steve knew his father-in-law, and that was not the scolding of a man annoyed with the object of his scolding. That was a pure jab of joy to see his youngest son.
By now Caroline had flown into her son’s big arms and took him into a hug that could have suffocated a bear. She was small, but her clam-shucking arms were vises.
“Ma, you’re crushin’ me!” he laughed.
“Well, you deserve a little crushing after running off like that, scaring us half to death!”
“Caroline, leave the boy alone, he’s servin’ his country.”
“Hey pop,” Bo said with a little embarrassment at the scene they were making in front of all these customers. He shoved his hand out to shake his father’s, but even Steve could see that he wanted his father to hug him. Which he did, shoving his hand out of the way and embracing him, fish guts and all.
“This is my son!” Shawn said to the crowd. “He’s a merchant marine!” Then he patted him on the back heartily.
Steve wanted to enjoy the homecoming, but all he could do was watch the swinging door for Kayla to come running into his arms.
“It’s not military, ya know, Pop it’s civilian, big cargo vessels.”
“Yeah, and if Congress declares war tomorrow you’re military overnight, same thing.”
“Not really …”
“Och!” Shawn silenced him. After some more good-natured ribbing, Shawn turned his attention to Steve. “Who’d ye bring home with ya, boy? You’re quite a strappin’ lad, yerself!”
Now Bo beamed. “This is my friend, Steve Johnson,” he said with a pride so palpable that Steve couldn’t help but take his attention away from the door. Maybe she had to go to class? “He’s my best friend, Pop, we’re bunkmates; been showin’ me the ropes.”
“Well, Steve, welcome to our home,” Caroline smiled warmly, wiping off her already clean hand on her apron and shaking Steve’s.
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Brady,” Steve said with a genuine smile, “Mr. Brady,” then he did the same with Shawn. It wasn’t a put on, he was happy to see them.
“Steven is it?”
“Just Steve is fine,” he replied, but then thought better of it. “Yes, Steven. Steve. Yes.” Hi father-in-law’s eye twinkled.
“That’s a good grip ye got, there, Steven,” Shawn said approvingly.
“Thank you, sir,” Steve replied. It hit him just how surreal this was; Shawn was dead, died in a plane crash a year ago in Steve’s real time. Now he was here welcoming him to his home, a stark contrast from the first time they’d met him in his actual timeline. What a difference, Steve thought.
“We’re on leave for a week,” Bo said. “He, uh, Steve doesn’t have a lot of family, so I thought I’d bring him home for our leave, give him a little break with home cookin’. Hope that’s ok.”
Steve and Bo looked striking in their respectful mariner attire. Their identical black, wool overcoats would reveal their all-weather uniform of black pants and snug black t-shirts, as well as heavy, dark wool sweaters for the colder weather. Steve’s hair was at a longer but controlled length, his green eyes met those of the older Bradys with deference, and both of them were every bit the picture of respectable pride.
“Of course, it’s ok, Bo,” his mother said.
“Is it ok if I get my chowder now?” the customer waiting patiently at the counter asked.
They all laughed, and Shawn said, “I’ll handle it down here, take the kids upstairs and get ‘em settled.”
Yes, let’s go upstairs to Kayla.
“Oh, have some chowder first, you look starving!” Caroline said.
“Caroline, these boys need to unload, their packs must weigh as much as they do.”
Just then, finally, a picture that Steve had run over in his mind countless times in the last week came to fruition in front of him. Only he could not possibly have imagined that the real thing would look this amazing. He heard the footsteps fly heavily down the stairs just before she burst through the door separating the fish market from the residence above. And when she did, it was unreal. There was no other word for it, it was unreal.
Kayla was a vision that Steve took in like sunlight breaking through the storm clouds. It was the first time he was seeing her with two eyes that could really see, and he didn’t know if he was imagining it or if it was real, but the colors of her body popped like they never had before. When he’d seen her in Cleveland, she was young. But this Kayla was 18 years old; he’d never laid eyes on this young woman in his life, and she was breathtaking. The first thing he locked on to was her eyes. They were the brightest blue he’d ever seen. The color of the sea, he could swim in them all day. Her hair was the beautiful honey blonde of her mother’s, only brighter, and it was much longer than he’d ever seen it embodying a curl that bounced exactly like Farrah Faucett’s in her famous swimsuit poster. Farrah’s got nothing on you, Sweetness. She wore no makeup that Steve could tell, with peaches and cream skin over a bone structure that hadn’t taken on its adult angularity yet, and full, pink lips that Steve longed to have meet his with a kiss that he could barely contain within himself. Her slender body was poised inside the stairwell as she gripped the door with her right hand as relief and wonderment washed over him.
Steve watched her amazing eyes widen with disbelief and fill with tears. “I can’t believe you’re finally here!” she yelped as she made a full run toward them. Steve had barely begun to open his arms she ran so fast, causing the customer waiting for his chowder to roll his eyes knowing that he was going to have to keep waiting, damn family businesses. That’s when Kayla leapt into Bo’s outstretched arms and squeezed her eyes shut as he spun her around, her bell-bottomed, denim hip huggers catching air around her ankles, and squealed. “I’ve been waiting since Christmas, you loser!” Kayla laughed and Bo let out an appreciative grr that sounded as authentically Bo now as it did in 2009.
“Yeah, well if I’m such a loser why are you squeezin’ me so tight?”
“Because you’re rotten, that’s why!”
Bo put his sister down, and Shawn got back to business behind the counter. “This is what happens when ye quit yer schoolin’ and go to sea, Bo, ye get Brady women tryin’ to squeeze the life out of ye!”
“You’re right, Pop, I don’t know what I was thinkin’.”
“I don’t, either,” his mother said with a lot less humor.
“I think if little brothers thought more they’d write more letters to their big sisters,” she scolded as she eyed the identically dressed man with her brother curiously.
“I was thinking maybe of lunch,” the customer whined.
Steve was thinking, too. Specifically he was thinking, She’s looking at me. She’s looking right at me, and she’s acting like she doesn’t know me. And that’s because she doesn’t. That’s what Steve was thinking as he stared a hole through her that had the intensity to melt the wall behind her. It’s been a whole week, where the hell’s my wife? Then he added more stray bits of awe that he couldn’t help to the thoughts in his head before he found something to do with his awkwardly placed hands now that she wasn’t jumping into them.
Steve realized he was staring, but he just couldn’t tear his eyes away as he searched with hope for any shred of a Kayla that he knew, all while taking in this beautiful version of her that he was now, somehow, getting the opportunity to meet. Kayla, on the other hand, couldn’t help but be struck by the depth of this other merchant marine’s stare. It was almost ferocious how powerful the look in his eyes was. She was immediately taken in by him. Steve saw the wonder on her face, knew it was in reaction to him, and told himself to rein it in; but when she bit her lip in a move that was just as unconscious now as it was then, he went nuts. Silently and privately nuts. Kayla’s in there. The woman she becomes in 30 years is in there right now, biting her lip.
Bo followed Kayla’s gaze to Steve and slapped his hand against his forehead. He’d gotten so caught up in the moment of being home that he’d forgotten that he needed to introduce Steve to his sister, who was suddenly looking like she’d just met a hot fudge sundae.
“Kay, this is my friend, Steve. Steve Johnson.” Kayla wished he’d stop looking at her like she was the only one in the room, but something about him made her smile at him anyway. This wasn’t the first time he’d jumped to a Kayla that didn’t know him, and he just had to get a grip. So Steve nodded his head with a careful smile of his own and he put all his effort into controlling his panic, acting normal (good luck with that, dude), and not blowing this.
“Hi,” she said, staring with fascination of her own at the fact that he was fascinatingly staring at her.
Steve swallowed. “Hi,” he replied in a voice that Kayla could feel in velvet sound waves about her ears. “Name’s Steve.” He was afraid to think it was true, but she was staring now, too. Does she know me?
“Welcome to Salem,” Kayla said.
“He doesn’t have a lot of family, so I invited him home with me to take his shore leave with us.”
“Oh,” Kayla nodded with a self-satisfied smirk on her face that Steve was clueless how to read. Then he understood as she leaned in to her brother antagonizingly. “Now who’s taking in strays, little brother?”
Bo looked uncomfortable at the comment that Kayla couldn’t know at that point was ill-advised given Steve’s utter aloneness in this world, and Kayla picked up on it immediately.
“Oh no! I’ve said the wrong thing! I’m so sorry, I don’t even know you, and I’ve already … it’s just … Bo’s always on my case about taking home stray animals, and now I can rib him a little, and … NOT THAT YOU’RE AN ANIMAL! Oh my gosh,” she dropped her forehead into her hand while placing the other on her hip.
Something about this man with the unbelievable green eyes was making her nervous, throwing her off. If Steve had known he was making the hairs stand up on the back of her neck it would have helped offset the anxiety he was feeling with the fact that her 2009 awareness had not jumped into her beautiful destination body yet.
“Ugh, I’m making it worse,” Kayla said as she hid half of her face behind her hand.
“Ma, what the hell’d you do to her filter while I was gone?”
“Bo, language!” his mother scolded.
“Ok, that’s enough,” Shawn commanded from the chowder pot, “these people are tryin’ to eat!”
“Maybe,” the now irate customer interjected.
“Out with ye!”
But Steve was laughing. His wife was a pistol. An 18-year-old pistol. He forced himself to stop staring as he hoisted his duffel over his shoulder, and now that he wasn’t trying to melt her with his Superman eyes that she was sure could see through her clothing, she was able to notice more of him, like how tall he was and how effortlessly he hoisted that obviously heavy pack.
“No offense taken,” Steve said. “I am a stray. I appreciate your family having me.” Kayla let out a relieved sound, and Steve added, “I don’t want to disturb the customers, though,” he said softly while nudging an eye to Bo and then toward the swinging door. “Your pop’s right, maybe we should head up.”
“Come on,” Caroline said, “you can have Roman’s room.” He watched Kayla’s face flush a light shade of pink as she turned on her heel and followed her mom back up the stairs. Bo followed, and Steve took up the rear.
He somehow got through this conversation, but his head was swimming. How could she really not be here? There was no mistaking it, either, that pretty girl did not possess the awareness of the woman she would become 30 years hence. After a week. That had never happened before, and in the span of these few seconds when he was still following Bo out of the market and into the residence, he did the quick math to just be very sure he really was on Day 7. Ten minutes ago Steve was nervous, but now he was a whole different kind of nervous. What the f*ck is going on?
Just before he took his first step up the stairs, he heard his name. “Steven,” Shawn called over to him.
Steve startled. “Yeah–,” he cleared his throat. “Yes sir?”
“Thanks for cleanin’ the house up, here,” Shawn managed to gesture to the middle of the fish market with just his eyes. “The natives sometimes forget that this isn’t their livin’ room.”
Steve nodded. “Sure, anytime.” He didn’t really know what to say and was trying to keep it together.
“Ye got a good head on ye, son,” Shawn said. The use of the word “son” and the look in his eye calmed him, as if he knew Steve needed a reassuring hand and gave it to him. It was exactly what he needed at the exact time he needed it, and the affection Steve had for the man was hard to hide.
It was a small gesture, but Steve felt a bit more in control, now. He wanted to reach out to Shawn, feel the man’s hand in his own, and thank him for grounding him. But instead Steve simply said, “thank you, Mr. Brady. That means a lot to me.”
Shawn smiled and went back to his customer with a look that Steve would have sworn knew more than he let on. Then he turned and finally made his way up the stairs where he would either wait for Kayla or jump, whichever came first.