By R. C. Capasso
“You can’t change anything, Tom. You know that.”
I nodded. No one could fight the laws of time travel.
“No matter how much you’re tempted.”
“I know!” I forced my breath to steady. Jacob was helping me, against all rules. All reason. He was not the enemy. “Sorry.” I swallowed. “No matter what, I won’t act.”
“Then is there really any point?”
“I have to know.”
My father was dying. Doctors explained there was some hope for recovery, but my father refused to take any action. I saw it as a death wish. One that began taking root long ago and was now flowering into despair.
I understood. When my mother was murdered twenty-four years ago, we all died to some degree. I was only five. In time my memories of her faded, and I was able to move on. But not my father. He turned dark, distant, silent. Hard to love, though I worked at it with all my might. Not knowing the killer or why she died ate away at him. I accepted that, at least on the surface.
That’s why I became a cop. Not just to protect others. To solve my mother’s murder and give my dad some peace. Now, as he grew thinner and paler in a hospital bed, getting that answer could even prevent his death.
Going back to the moment my mother was killed was the only way.
The cold case file identified the place, the day, even the hour she died from a knife wound. Two witnesses heard the scream, but no one saw the assailant. The detectives had tried to apprehend the murderer, but it’d been difficult with no leads. No weapon, no forensic evidence, no motive. My mother died in an alley, a few steps from a store she regularly visited. A blood-spattered bag of groceries spilled across the ground near her feet.
“I’m only going to look. And take a photo for facial recognition.”
“If you act…”
I waved his words away. “Jacob, let’s do this. I swear on my badge I only want an answer for my dad. He’s all I care about.”
Jacob nodded. We’d been buddies since the police academy. He knew I was no hero, not even close. I did community policing. Just wanted to get to know folks, keep them safe, let them have a chance at life. I wasn’t going in guns blazing. I wasn’t even going in armed.
“I’m just a son.” I held Jacob’s gaze.
“Traveling back for family situations is forbidden for a reason, you know. Nothing good can come of it.”
“I’ve only got one reason. My father in the hospital. That’s it.”
Jacob nodded and gestured me toward the machine. “See you in a minute.”
The process was instant. The change of season, from summer to late fall, and the sudden darkness of the alley sent a shockwave through me. But I forced slow breaths, counting to twenty. My heartbeat steadied.
The monitor on my wrist, showing the local time, confirmed I was within minutes of the reported screams. I scanned the alley. It was an exact match for the crime scene photos I’d studied, except the police floodlights were missing, and no small yellow markers traced the drops of blood. I oriented myself, fixing my eyes on the spot where my mother’s body would soon lie.
As in the file, a dumpster stood outside the back door of a nearby restaurant. I positioned myself behind it, planning the shot with my camera. The police who would arrive in less than twenty minutes concluded that my mother had stood with her back to the alley, facing her killer. I’d have a clean shot of his face, though the streetlight would be behind him. I’d have to count on the camera’s ability to enhance the ambient light and give me a clear view.
A moment passed, and then I heard a voice. A laugh. Something that caught at my heart. I couldn’t remember, yet I knew. It was her, my mother. Happy in the last moments of her life.
She stepped past the building to my right, her silhouette crossing into the opening of the alley. A half step behind her came a man I didn’t recognize. He said her name, caught her by the arm, and drew her close. I stood, hidden in the dark, filming silently. My throat closed as their faces met in a kiss.
She pulled back, pushing the man away and laughing as he disappeared the way he had come.
She was still alive.
Digging into her purse, she pulled out a phone. The file said she died with a phone near her hand. I kept my camera on her face, drinking in the curve of her hair as it fell on her collar. My heart pounded. Was she going to speak? Would I have her voice recorded?
Then she turned. “Why, what are you—?”
“I saw you.”
The voice froze my heart.
He shoved her, two steps, three steps stumbling deeper into the alley. Her back to me. His tall figure advancing. Not another word, not another sound, till she cried out and fell backward. Just where they found her, one hand clutching her abdomen. The cell phone fallen out of reach.
He gazed at her a long moment, then lifted his head. Tears already filling his eyes. Then he ran, pounding past me into the dark maze of streets.
My father.
I let the camera fall to the pavement. I wouldn’t need to enhance the photos. The image of my father fleeing that alley would burn in my memory forever.
I pushed the monitor, the signal to return. Jacob would get me home. Would I have enough time left with my father to understand, heal, and forgive?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
:'( Poor guy.
Yes. Thanks for reading.
Powerful story. Healing and forgiveness are hard enough without a murder involved. Very good!
Thank you for reading and for the positive comments.
could he squeeze out a death bed confession, or would he have to tell his father he knew by time travel?
(and what an interesting ripple through time if he had prevented the murder?)
Yes, I’ve speculated about what he would do when he returned to his time. Thanks for reading and commenting!
Suspenseful, but with a surprising amount of humanity at the end.
Thanks for reading and for the positive comments.