Deja Vu, Again?

By Deborah Jones

Annie Dales has been intrigued her whole life by the strange legacy left by her great-great-grandmother. In 1884, Grandma Sarah was only twelve years old and foretold that the second daughter in Annies generation was to be named Annie McGuire.
WHY did Sarah insist on naming her?
HOW did she know Annie would meet and fall in love with a man named McGuire over a century later, after having been married once before?
WHY did Annie begin to feel that she had met Sarah before?
WHAT had happened to the satchel full of gold coins worth forty thousand dollars in 1884, the same year Sarah named her?
WHO was the Annie in Sarahs life who so influenced her?
Annie Dales and David McGuire become obsessed with these questions after they meet. After they accidentally discover the portal to the past, they fall back through time one hundred and twenty years into Sarahs life in 1884. Joy, awe and astonishment-all vie for their attention. There, in the Terre Haute, Indiana of another century, an incredible unbelievable adventure begins.
Annie and David visit the Terre Haute of the nineteenth century for only four wonderful, poignant days. The simplicity and joie de vivre of the times are captivating. The simple farm family and the sophisticated couple from the future bond almost immediately. Within days Sarahs grandfather and uncle are brutally murdered for their gold and Annie and David grieve with the family, knowing all the while that the deaths were predestined. A nasty hotel clerk trying to pin the murder of Sarahs grandfather and great-uncle on them is sidetracked at the last minute. Escaping one step ahead of the law, and breathing a sigh of relief, Annie and David are at last back in their own time. As if the hidden cache of gold has waited all these years for only Annie to find it, clues hidden in plain sight brilliantly make sense. The satchel is revealed behind a false wall in the basement of Annies house. The final piece of Annies happiness falls into place when David tells Annie he is just going to have to marry her, not everyone can say that their love was preordained over a century before their births. Sarah may have blessed their love by writing Annies last name as Davids in the journal, but Annie and David made their own love in this century and the last.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 7, 2008
• ISBN: 9781477173275

Book preview

Chapter 1

"Hazel! Hazel Marie Dales! I need my car keys back right now! Annie Dales shouted up the back stairs to her daughter. I’ve got less than twenty minutes to get to class. If I’m late, you’re the one who’ll be getting detention, not me!"

No reply.

She stood, tapping her foot in mounting impatience as she twisted a strand of her long, straight chestnut hair around her finger. Annie was pursuing a degree in journalism at Indiana State and this was the first day of the first week of the fall semester. Her class in Ethics in Journalism was the last required course for her journalism degree. Graduation was less than a semester away. Annie could hardly wait, it seemed as if she had been trying to reach this goal for most of her lifetime. Between raising her children, maintaining her old family farmhouse and an ex-husband who had always resented any time not spent on him or for him, it had been a tough road. The degree meant a substantial raise at the Terre Haute daily where she was a feature writer. Now she could pursue a regular column in the Indianapolis Sunday Sentinel, an improvement in her lifestyle, and a little less worry about the bills and upkeep on the old family farmhouse she had inherited. But first she had to make it through this class.

Legend had it that Professor McGuire was a stickler for punctuality and attendance and had pretty strict rules. Annie didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with him. Annie slapped her hand down on the old worn oak kitchen table and sighed with exasperation. She was rapidly running out of time. She was about to call Hazel one more time when the whirlwind that was her youngest child came thundering down the stairs. Hazel’s feet and those of their ancient English setter came dangerously close to tangling before they both made it all the way to the kitchen. Despite Chloe’s advanced age she thought that if Hazel ran, she should too. Annie winced. Hazel, one of these days either you or Chloe are going to end up with a broken neck the way you guys come down those stairs!

"Mother, your keys are right where I left them on the counter. All Annie saw on the counter was her empty coffee cup. She raised an eyebrow. Well… that’s where I left them anyway! Okay here they are! They snuck under my books. Sorry! I thought they were in plain sight! Hazel panted, as she blew her bangs out of her eyes. Mom, you aren’t going anywhere after your class today, are you? I have the late shift at the clinic and O’Brian’s called and said that my car won’t be ready until tomorrow."

No problem. Annie assured Hazel. She blew her daughter a kiss as she pulled open the squeaky old wooden screen door. She raced down the back porch steps, letting the door slam behind her. She jumped into her old ’68 Corvette (the only thing she got out of the divorce that Rick wanted) gunned her engine and backed out to the street at top speed, slowing just enough to miss bottoming out in the dip at the end of the driveway. If I hit all the lights just right, and find a parking place near the building, a small miracle in itself, I’ll make it just in time, she told herself. Hitting each light and forced to park at the lot south of the Student Union, Annie was the very last person to enter the crowded classroom two minutes before the hour. She tiptoed across the back of the room and hastily took one of the last seats with a sigh of relief. She didn’t think she’d make it. She prayed that she had been more or less invisible to Professor McGuire. No such luck. The professor had just begun taking roll when she made her entrance. Although it was not quite 11:00 a.m., he pointedly stopped calling names, raised one eyebrow and looked over the top of his glasses at Annie for what seemed like an eternity. She bristled when he muttered a sarcastic comment about housewives who think they can write, interrupting serious students who really want to learn.

Annie felt heat rise to her cheeks. She had made it on time, two minutes early, in fact. She stood and with her chin raised defiantly, spouted out, "Number One Professor: I am not a housewife indulging myself. And you should be ashamed for lumping all housewives in a category that way! I am gainfully employed as a journalist with several legitimate publications, both newspapers and magazines, and have been for years. Number Two: I have completed all the other requirements for my degree with a 3.90 average while holding down a full time job, and being a single parent. And, Number Three: The only reason I took this class from you instead of Mr. Anson is because my son recommended you and said that I would enjoy your class, but obviously he was wrong!"

Some students gasped and some snickered. Annie wondered how much trouble her big mouth had gotten her into this time. Her face burning, she sank back into her chair, managing to knock her backpack and notebook off her desk. The class exploded with muffled giggles. Annie held her head up, cheeks scarlet, heart pounding, daring the professor to come back at her and praying that he wouldn’t. In front of her the twenty-something guy with longish curly hair and a worn flannel shirt turned and flashed her a huge grin. A surreptitious thumbs-up came from across the aisle to her right. Professor McGuire was speechless for a moment, his jaw working. He cleared his throat several times, removed his glasses and polished them with his handkerchief, then continued taking roll. He made no comment when he reached Annie’s name for which she was grateful. After making sure that everyone was in the right class and giving them their reading lists for the semester, Professor McGuire began his lecture with a lengthy list of rules and then handed out the equally lengthy reading list. He checked his watch. We’ll take a twenty minute break, please be back precisely at 12:15. This provoked a few scattered giggles from the back of the room, Professor McGuire looked surprised, then raised his hands and shook his head as his students stood and filed out the door.

Most of Annie’s classmates wandered down to the lounge in the alcove at the top of the stairs. They poured change into the decrepit vending machines lined up like sentries in readiness for another new semester. Annie waited her turn at the coffee machine and then sank gracefully onto the top step that lead down to the first floor. She shared the step with three girls from her class. She took a sip from her cup and winced, the coffee tasted as if it could strip the wax from the ancient, buckling linoleum floors. Miniskirted Alice McGuinn congratulated her on standing up to the professor. Tina Rogelstad merely pointed her finger and shook her head.

Annie shrugged and with a wave of her hand tried to explain, I’m not usually hot headed. I don’t usually lose my composure like that. But I was not late, and I damn near broke the land speed record to get there on time. She couldn’t even explain it to her self, but something about Professor McGuire had provoked her. it was unfair of him to embarrass me like that, she protested. She realized she was still angry, but her classmates had moved on.

When conversation turned to rating the guys in the class, Annie laughing, excused herself and rose. She dropped her cup into the industrial gray barrel next to the offending machine that had produced the sludge. She opted to head back to the classroom ahead of the others, determined to be the first one back. she decided, and in her seat when Professor McGuire returned. Just let him try to make a comment about her then!

The door to the classroom was open, and Annie slipped in. Professor McGuire stood with his back to the room, staring out the window at the campus’ autumn colors. He was about six foot three or four. His solid build and broad shoulders probably meant a football history somewhere in his past. Thick dark hair laced subtly with gray was probably a little longer than the dean would have recommended. Instead of the expected shirt and tie many of the professors chose, he wore a faded chambray shirt with a pair of well-worn tan corduroy slacks. A maverick, she thought. "Just what I need. I hope he’s as good as Mark says he is and doesn’t give me any more trouble.

Professor David McGuire was listening to a vintage Moody Blues CD from a bright yellow CD player on his desk. He was lost in the music. He nodded in time, humming softly with the music, reciting bits of the dramatic poetry under his breath. Annie recognized with pleasure the sounds of an album she had completely worn out in the seventies. Smiling, not realizing she was singing aloud, she joined in on the last line. He whirled from the window surprised that he was not alone; doubly surprised that it was Annie.

You know the lyrics to ‘Tuesday Afternoon’? were the first words out of his mouth when he turned around.

She shrugged, in that moment she took in his face, a reporter’s instinct. His serious deep green eyes under shaggy dark brows flecked with gray focused on her. The lines on his face told of his lighter side with laugh lines around his eyes, and deep brackets on either side of his generous mouth. His eyes were fascinating, with just a hint of sorrow in his past somehow suggested, "I probably memorized every line in every song from the Nights in White Satin album, she confessed.

Professor McGuire couldn’t help but grin. He moved from the window to his desk and perched on the front of it while she leaned against the door jam. He offered some of M&Ms from a jar on his desk, apparently his version of a peace offering. At her slightly hesitant look, he chuckled softly and reassured her, Unlike some people, I don’t bite. To Annie’s surprise he proceeded to apologize for his earlier sarcasm in front of the class. "It really frustrates me when I’m trying to teach serious journalism to students who really wanted to learn. Since the school changed its admission policy regarding those over forty, what they call life-learners, I too often have students who are here on a lark and put a drag on the entire class.

She nodded her understanding. I accept your apology, she said, leaning in and scooping a handful of the peanut M&Ms from his jar. They remained silent, eating M&M’s, enjoying the music for a few moments, avoiding eye contact.

By the way, who is your son? And how dare he take my name in vain?

Annie laughed. She explained that Mark had taken one of the professor’s classes two years earlier. He frowned, trying to place which student from two years ago might have spoken so highly of him. Annie described her oldest, adding that he had graduated the previous spring.

Finally, a light dawned in his deep green eyes and he snapped his fingers. "I remember him now. Nice looking kid, really fine mind. Wasn’t he moving to Washington D.C. or something when he graduated? Oh ho! Wait a minute, now I know who you are! Mark brought some of your articles in for me to read from time to time. He turned his head to the side slightly and examined her over the top of his glasses with one eyebrow raised, Hmm. You’re certainly not what I expected."

What did you expect, the little cookie-baker who fancies herself a best selling romance novelist? She just couldn’t resist the dig.

Ouch! he flinched. I guess I deserved that. I know this sounds a little like a classic come-on line, but I really expected someone considerably older, well, more mature, I mean, Mark never explained that you were… were… oh, hell. Professor McGuire threw his hands in the air in surrender.

Professor, I seem to have this mysterious power to render you speechless today.

Annie grinned at his discomfort, but couldn’t help herself. He shook his finger at her in warning and then grinned back and shook his head.

He took his place in front of the room and Annie returned to her seat. Riotous thoughts swirled through her mind, Now that was fun. I wonder what he’s like out of the classroom. I wonder if he’s single. Hmm, not bad. Oh you idiot, forget about it. He’s your professor for heaven sakes! Professor McGuire had affected her heart rate like nobody else had for a long time. Annie was relieved when the class resumed and they returned to their positions of teacher and student. He took a deep breath, picked up his notes and focused on the task at hand. "This is going to be the most demanding, unusual, stimulating class you will ever take. I make you a solemn promise that you will not be bored. You will, at times, love it, and at times you will hate it, but I guarantee you-you will think about it, and you will talk about it, and you will remember it for the rest of your lives. You will come face to face with issues you have never considered before and learn to look at them from a different perspective. Most of our class time will be taken up with discussion and dissection of current events and relevant historical events. There will be a couple of brief, probably one-page, papers throughout the semester. The bulk of the semester’s work will be taken up with one assignment only. At this, several of the students groaned loudly. Ah, my repeat offenders, back again so soon?" the professor chuckled.

Professor McGuire tossed a piece of chalk in the air and caught it. He began to pace in front of the class as he explained, For those of you who have not had the experience of raising your consciousness with this class, I will elaborate. You will examine a scenario of your individual choosing. It will have to do with a specific real event in history from a vantage point made possible by your sudden miraculous ability to travel back to that point in time. Time travel, if you will, but don’t get bogged down by the method of travel. I don’t want to hear a sci-fi story. Our concern will be with this question: if you were capable of traveling backwards in time and changing the results of one event; or actually changing the event itself, would it be ethical to do so? You will operate under the premise that this change will be not only personally beneficial but also benefit the world and humankind. The complicating factor in the scenario is that we cannot know for sure what would occur as a result of your change. You can project and estimate and analyze the results of your change, but you cannot be one hundred percent sure of what would really happen.

He began to pace more rapidly, warming to his subject as he went on. Two obvious examples are: preventing Hitler from beginning his nightmare reign, and keeping the killer bees in Africa. Pretty simple, huh? Maybe, maybe not. What about when you get into a situation that is not so black and white? For instance, a cure for the plagues that ravaged Europe during the Middle Ages sounds like nothing short of a miracle, doesn’t it? According to recently published research, if the plagues had not occurred starvation would have killed hundreds of thousands due to overcrowding. Also, genetic mutations would most likely have occurred in conjunction with the accompanying overwhelming malnutrition. The moral structure that our society is based on today would very possibly not have survived the horrendous situation that might have existed if you had gone back in time and cured the plague.

Now, can anyone provide another scenario for us? Anyone? C’mon, guys! What if we could have kept the Edsel out of production—now there’s a world-changing event! Maybe we could find such a rich gold mine, the Lost Dutchman for instance, that we could completely destroy world economy by undermining the gold standard. Come on people-give me some examples! Put those fine minds in gear and start thinking!

His students quickly got into the swing of it and began laughing and throwing out situations. The answers were varied and inventive, some clearly reflecting the background of the individual who suggested them. They came from all sides of the room as the students competed to come up with the most challenging scenario. Everyone was involved and having fun. Now Annie could see why Mark had recommended Professor McGuire so highly. He challenged and stimulated his students, she could feel the level of excitement rising around her.

What if we could prevent the Crucifixion?

Excellent!

What about Rasputin?

Also excellent!

What if we could make a killing on the stock market by knowing about Black Friday in 1929? Oh and of course, prevent the Depression.

Uhh, try again.

What if we could have warned the Titanic?

What if I could have gotten my dad’s car fixed before he knew I had wrecked it? This came from a wistful very young girl in an oversized Indiana State sweatshirt on the other side of Alice.

What about Pearl Harbor?

From whose point of view? someone responded

Okay, now you’re getting the picture, good thinking! I want each of you to choose an event in history that, if changed, may benefit you but doesn’t necessarily have to benefit the rest of the world. Doesn’t have to be earth shaking. It must, however, be verifiable and documented as an actual event. What I want you to do is give me a brief sequence of events as they actually happened, an introduction, if you will, no more. Put forth your proposed changes, and the effects, then go for it. The first two parts of your paper should not consume more than a few brief introductory pages. I want the bulk of it to address the results your change caused and their potential benefits. Explore your hypothesis in great depth, really get into the effects, positive and negative, personal and general, and then render me a decision as to whether it is justifiable and support it. Be aware however, that anyone who decides that it is morally correct to change history is going to have to move mountains to convince me it’s justifiable. So those of you who think you should change history will either have an A or an F for the semester. The room went silent at his last declaration. Let me be clear, I do not want a trumped up this is what Professor McGuire wants to hear cutesy piece. He looked at a few students on the front row. Now you see why so many students are doomed to repeat this class. In two weeks I will ask you to turn in the event you have selected with a brief outline. Don’t worry too much about what your event will be at this point, you might even change your mind as our discussions progress and that’s ok as long as you run it by me. I just want you to start thinking. If you have trouble coming up with something I’m in my office three afternoons a week, Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Come see me, we’ll figure something out."

Ok, make sure you have your textbooks for the next time we meet, be thinking about what events you might consider, and we’ll discuss some of them. Now get the hell out of here, and I’ll see you Friday, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. He turned and made a two-pointer into the wastebasket with the piece of chalk and raised his fist in victory as the students laughed at his antics. They worked their way