The first year went by way too fast. I tried my best to memorize every moment and learned more about myself in the process. By the beginning of the second year, I was chasing Cin around the house as he ran on chubby legs. I’d gotten a phone and taken pictures of us, one attached to each letter about his life. I went out on occasion to get food, but Cin and I didn’t need much.
When Cin began to talk, I worried about the American accent he was developing. I left Scottish shows playing in his room while he slept, praying he’d pick up on it. But that wasn’t enough.
I had no other choice but to go back to Scotland. Otherwise, I’d change the past. Older Cin in the future sounded very much like his father. The problem was finding a point in time close to the one he’d eventually grow up in, but where I wouldn’t cross paths with Duncan.
It was Mom who gave me the idea. I needed a place where I wouldn’t leave a footprint in history. A place where women my age were reasonably safe and would be forgiven when showing up with a child without a husband.
A nunnery. I did as much Google searching of the past as I could before I picked a place. I chose a nunnery that existed back then in Perth, Scotland, far south enough that I didn’t think I’d run into Duncan. I chose one year before Cin’s conception as my point in time. I wanted my son to sound enough like the period he’d grow up in as not to bring suspicion.
Before I left, I hugged Mom.
“I love you with all my heart and I’m so proud,” she said. She kissed Cin’s forehead before handing him back to me.
This was the hardest part. Saying goodbye forever. “I love you. Thank you for everything you did for me,” I said in return.
Before I could change my mind, I opened myself to the light. This I’d experimented with over the year and a half. There were plenty of willing ghosts, or haints as they called them, in Charleston for me to perfect my craft on. I knew what to do.
I called to the light, but not in words, and it came. And just like that, she was gone. I gave one last look around the house before letting my light take me to Perth, which would be my home for the next many months.
My arrival wasn’t exactly as planned. I stepped out into an empty field and was grateful no one was around to witness it. Then I took the brief journey over a valley and up a rise before knocking on the doors of what I hoped was a nunnery.
The tears I spilled weren’t fake. All I had to do was think about never seeing my mom again for them to come. I spun a tale about a brute of a man who’d taken advantage and left me with child. It was the lie I told to gain entrance because if I admitted I had a husband, they would have sent me back to him as were the times.
Nun life wasn’t that bad. The worst was when I arrived. They took my son and put him with the rest of the orphans. I wasn’t allowed to spend my days with him, but our paths did cross on occasion. Other times I watched him from afar, reasoning it was probably for the best. Otherwise, he might remember me when I arrived and married his father a year or so from now.
That didn’t make it easy. I had too much time to reflect on and remember the little conversations I’d had with Duncan. There wasn’t a computer or paper given to female nuns, or not to use freely. I was forced to mark time with little scratches on my bedpost as a countdown to the day I would leave. Though I was a time walker, as they called it, I couldn’t age myself or my son. So Cin had to grow into the boy he needed to be before I could make my escape. At night, as the pain of separation from Duncan grew to be unbearable, I would recite every talk we’d had by heart to calm the still-burning fires I had for him.
There were more occasions as I waited to become proficient in time walking. Some of the worst men who’d ever lived thrived in this time period. A few monks and visitors to the nunnery had wandering hands. There were more than a few times I had to disappear literally around a corner to keep from being assaulted.
It had all been worth it. I’d had access to many books that spoke of angels and their purpose. I’d learned how to use my gifts to hide myself in plain sight. So when the time came, I had slunk from my room, gathered my son from his bed, and used a gift that allowed me to hide my face in the shadows. Nifty trick.