Smiling Through 
by Darby Ross

Disclaimer: All original Early Edition characters are owned by CBS, ABCFAM, SonyTristar, etc. All other characters are my own creation. This story is for entertainment purposes only. A bit of dialogue in the final chapter is not my own, it was taken from the 'Christmas' Episode and is therefore owned by those writers.

Spoilers: Minor 'Christmas' spoilers in Epilogue

This story takes place in December, a few months after Gary begins receiving his "Early Edition."

Special thanks to Linda for all the corrections and suggestions and to Mary for being my fic pimp ;)

Rated PG- mild language used and some violence.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Smiling Through 
by Darby Ross
Prologue

~December 7, 1941~
 
A light snow fell on the city and the wind blowing off the lake was enough to chill a man to the bone. But not this man, because he was warmed by anger.  The rosiness of his cheeks wasn't due to the cold wind, but from the fire that burned within his heart.

His hand wrapped around the cold steel of the pistol in his pocket as an evil grin spread across his face.

Twilight was fading fast and the streets were almost empty. People were at home with loved ones, huddled around their radios, waiting for more news.

As he continued to walk, he tried to form a plan. He chuckled at the thought of a *plan*. His only plan was to make his so called friend pay. He had no worries about getting caught. He'd bought his way out of trouble before and he'd make certain, this time would be no different.

He entered the lobby of the Blackstone and met the eye of the doorman, who gave him a look as if he knew what he was going to do. The doorman had always given him the willies. He seemed to disappear as quickly as he appeared.

He nodded to the doorman and continued past him to the elevators and rode one up to the top floor. As he exited the elevator he noticed how dimly lit the halls were, how his shadow danced eerily on the wall. He shivered in spite of himself.

He needed to stay calmer. A case of the jitters would not help his cause tonight.

Finding the door unlocked, he opened it and entered the room, closing the door softly behind him. He made himself comfortable on a chair, where he sat in the dark and waited.

Chapter One

~December 3, 1996~
 
Gary poured a cup of coffee as he waited for his toast. The bread popped up and he buttered it heavily and added it to his plate of bacon and eggs. He picked up the plate and cup and walked over to the table.  

Frowning, he set the dishes down and picked the cat up off the chair. "*You* don't get to eat at the table," he said as he dropped the cat to the floor.

Cat meowed softly and with a defiant flip of his tail, jumped onto the sofa and made himself comfortable.

Gary took a bite of toast before picking up the paper, then scanned the headlines for anything requiring his attention.

Suddenly the room grew cold and he shivered. He laid the paper down and got up and checked the thermostat, turning it up a couple of degrees.

He sat back down and continued eating his breakfast. The cat jumped off the sofa and sped by him, skidding as his paws hit the linoleum on the kitchen floor.  
 
"What's got into you this morning?" Gary asked as he looked after the cat.

When he looked back at the paper, it had blown open. Gary's eyebrows knitted together as he picked up the tabloid, closed it, and stuck it under his arm as he picked up the empty dishes and carried them to the sink.

He looked down at the cat. "You behave yourself today. Don't be running through the place, helter skelter, while I'm gone."

~~~

Gary opened the door to the East entrance of the Blackstone and stepped out onto the Michigan Avenue sidewalk.

A strong gust of wind caught him off guard and caused him to stagger sideways a few steps. He regained his balance and waved at a cab heading south.

He stepped into the cab and pulled his leg in, narrowly missing getting it caught as the wind slammed the door shut.

"Violet's Bouquets on Wabash," Gary told the driver as the cab pulled into traffic.

As if the driver sensed Gary's urgency, he darted in and out of traffic, only slowing down when he came upon a red light. The car swayed from side to side as they waited on the light to change and the wind whistled through the cracked seal around the window.

The driver arrived at the destination and Gary asked him to keep the meter running; he would be back in a second.

True to his word, he returned a few moments later with a brightly colored bouquet of various types of flowers tucked securely under his coat to protect them from the fierce wind.
 
"Lake Shore Nursing Home," Gary instructed and gave the driver the address.

He gently laid the bouquet on the seat next to him, then glanced at his watch before removing the paper from his jacket.

'Elderly Woman Burned In Blaze'

'Anna Parker, 76, was severely burned yesterday morning at approximately 9:30 a.m., when a fire broke out in her room at the Lake Shore Nursing Home. Fire Chief, Andrew Columbus, stated the fire was caused by a faulty electric blanket on the victim's bed. Ms. Parker is listed in critical condition at St. Johns Hospital.'

The cab screeched to a halt and Gary returned the paper to his jacket and pulled his wallet out to pay the fare. He returned his billfold to his pocket and once again placed the bouquet under his jacket to protect it from the wind.

The automatic door slid open as he approached and he entered the lobby, his nose crinkling at the odor. He saw a young nurse at a desk and walked over to her.  

"Uh, excuse me. I'd like to see Ms. Anna Parker."

The nurse looked up from her papers and smiled appreciatively at the man before her.

"Excuse me. Did you say Anna Parker?"

He nodded. "Is there a problem?"

"No. It's just that Anna doesn't ever have visitors. Are you a relative of hers?"

"No, no, not exactly. More like a...ah...friend of the family."

The nurse smiled. "And you brought her flowers," she said as she noticed them peeking out from inside his jacket.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I did," he stammered as he pulled them out.

"That was so sweet. Anna will be thrilled. Follow me," she said as she came out from behind the desk and started across the lobby.

Gary followed and as he walked, he moved the cuff of his sleeve and looked at his watch. 9:25.  "Could you hurry, please? I don't have a lot of time."

"Sure," she said as she sped up, perplexed by the man's haste.

Gary pulled his gloves off and shoved them into his pocket as they continued down the corridor.  Gently he took her by the arm and began to usher her down the hall.  

"This way," she said as she turned right. She stopped in front of room 220 and slowly pushed the door open.

"It looks like she's still asleep. She'll be so disappointed she missed you," the nurse said as she stuck her head into the dimly lit room.

"Oh boy!" Gary mumbled under his breath. "Do you mind if I leave these for her?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she gets them," she said as she reached for the bouquet.

"No! Uh, I, uh, mean I, Nurse...What's your name?"

"Jackie."

"Jackie, it would mean the world to me if you could put these in a vase for her right now and I could put them in her room. It's been a long time and I'd just like to look at her. Surely you understand. I'll wait right here for you to come back," he said, turning on the charm.  

"Oh, okay, wait here and I'll be right back."

Gary smiled warmly as she turned away. Quickly he grabbed the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall a few feet down and rushed into the room.

"Hey! You said you'd wait!" he heard Jackie call out. "What are you doing?"

"I smelled something burning," Gary said as he leaned over Anna's bed. "Anna, honey. Wake up. You need to get out of the bed."

"Get away from her. There's nothing burning," Jackie ordered as she grabbed Gary's arm.

"Let me go. You don't understand, that bed is going to catch fire," he tried to explain.

"Security! Security!!" Jackie cried out.

Anna stirred on the bed and Gary pulled away from the nurse's clutches. He grabbed the blanket and flung it to the foot of the bed.

"Come on, Anna. You need to come with me. Take my hand."

"My Lord! What is going on?" Anna asked, confused.

The nurse continued to cry out for security as she pulled on his coat and arms.

"Oh boy!" he muttered as he looked down at Anna, who was wide eyed and frightened, then to the blanket, lying innocently at the foot of the bed.

"Please get off the bed," he pleaded as he tried to reach the blanket to toss it to the floor.

Then, in a split second, they heard a pop, then a sizzling noise and the blanket burst into flames.


Chapter Two

The nurse screamed and let go of Gary. He immediately flipped the blanket to the floor and turned the extinguisher on it and put out the flames.

"Oh my God! The bed's on fire!" Jackie cried out.

Gary turned to see Anna struggling to sit up. He dropped the extinguisher and lifted Anna in his arms, away from danger. He gently set her in a chair before picking up the extinguisher and aiming it at the bed.

When the fire was out, he yanked the cord to the blanket from the outlet.

Anna's hand was clutching her chest and she was gasping for air.

"It's okay, Ms. Parker. The fire's out. You're safe now," Gary offered as he gently touched her arm.

Orderlies ran into the room.

"I think the fire is out, but you might get that blanket out of here, just in case," Gary stated.

"Anna, are you alright? Let me take your blood pressure," Jackie said as she began to fuss over her patient.

Gary backed silently to the door and as he turned to leave, he saw Anna shakily raise her hand and give him a wave and a smile of gratitude. He returned the smile and nodded as he made his exit.  

~~~

"Good evening, Mr. Hobson."

"Evening, Boswell," Gary said to the doorman as he entered the lobby of the Blackstone that night.

"Another nutritious meal, I see," Boswell said, somewhat sarcastically, as he nodded towards the pizza box Gary held in his hand.

"Of course. It's got your 4 basic food groups," Gary replied as he gave the doorman a tired smile.

He nodded as Gary entered the elevator and punched the number to his floor.

Gary dug in his coat pocket for the key to the door, then unlocked it and shoved the door open. He tripped over Cat, who was waiting impatiently to be fed.

"Watch it, would ya? I almost broke my neck," he grumbled as he kicked the door shut and walked into the kitchen and placed the pizza on the counter.

"Give me just a minute, will ya?" Gary asked as he gently nudged the cat away with his foot. He opened the cabinet door and pulled out a can of cat food, popped the lid, and placed the can on the floor.  

He washed his hands, grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, the box of pizza and headed to the sofa where he flopped his tired body.

He sniffed the air. Cigarette smoke. "What is wrong with people? This is a non smoking floor, but does that keep them from smoking?" he grumbled as he wrinkled his nose.

He grabbed a slice of pizza and took a big bite before turning on the television. He tried, but couldn't concentrate on the programming. He kept thinking of Anna Parker and the look in her eyes. She had looked so frail and frightened as he lifted her from the bed.

She was 76 years old and living in a nursing home where no one came to visit. He couldn't help but wonder what she'd been like when she was younger.


Chapter Three

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

"Hey! Buddy? You in there?" Gary heard Chuck call out.

He groaned as he sat up, having fallen asleep on the sofa, which resulted in a stiff neck this morning. He stopped and frowned as he heard the radio playing 'This Love of Mine'. He scratched his head. It wasn't 6:30 yet and he didn't remember turning the radio on.

As he staggered to the door, he massaged the muscles in his neck.

"Whatdya want?" Gary snapped as he flung open the door.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Sunshine," Chuck shot back. "You wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

"Sofa," Gary replied simply as he shut the door, then sniffed the air. "Coffee?"

"Like you deserve it after the warm welcome you gave me."

"Sorry, buddy," Gary apologized as he took the styrofoam cup from Chuck's outstretched hand. He took a sip, then closed his eyes and inhaled the aroma.

"Yeah, 'sorry buddy', now that you want the coffee. Speaking of warm welcomes, you need to turn the heat up. It's cold in here." Chuck shivered for emphasis.

"I know. I think the thermostat is messed up."

"You know, buddy, you live in a dump. A First Class dump. You really should find a better place. You'll never want to bring a woman back here to..."

"What are you doing here so early?" Gary interrupted. "The paper hasn't even arrived."

"Oh, I thought maybe we could get a bite to eat before you started your super hero duties today."

"Ha ha! Very funny."

"Meow!" *thump*

Chuck headed for the door, but Gary was quicker and cut him off. "Oh, no you don't!" he said as he opened the door.

"I'm hurt. Really crushed," Chuck said, placing his hand over his heart.

"Yeah, sure you are."

"Meow."

The cat sauntered into the room, paused, looked up at Chuck, put his nose in the air and continued past him.

"That cat doesn't like me. What did I ever do to him?"

"Animals are good judges of human nature, I hear."

Gary closed the door and opened the paper.

"You really wound me. What's with the snippy attitude this morning?"

Gary tossed the paper on the table after he scanned it for anything that needed his attention.

"I don't know. I met this woman yesterday and..."

"Aw, come on, buddy. You gotta share. What did she look like? Blond? Blue eyes? Figure to die for? Was she a save? Did she thank you with a *big*.....*kiss*?" Chuck finished with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Put a leash on your hormones, there, Chuck. She was a save, but she wasn't a hot babe. Well, she might have been at one time, but now she's just a lonely, old woman."

"Oh," Chuck said as he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He flinched then looked behind him.

"What?" Gary wondered.

Chuck shook his head. "That was creepy. It just felt like cold fingers wrapped around my neck. Are you gonna get a move on so we can go outside where it's warmer?"

Gary frowned. "Why don't you call Marissa while I'm in the shower and invite her to join us."

"Marissa? Why?"

"Fine. I'll do it," Gary snapped.

"I'm just kidding. Geesh. Touchy, touchy."


Chapter Four

"No blueberry pancakes today?" Marissa asked.

"No. Not today," Gary muttered.

"Why not? You love blueberry pancakes," Chuck chimed in.

"Not anymore. They remind me of Marcia."

"Man. Is it not enough that she ruined your life, now she has to ruin your favorite foods, too? Such a shame," Chuck said, shaking his head.

"Marcia didn't ruin Gary's life," Marissa interjected.

"Oh, really? He's in his early 30's. No job. Divorced and living in a dump. He gets a magical paper that leaves him no time for a social life and he can't or won't use it for financial gain. How much worse can his life get? Dying would be an improvement."

"Chuck! This is just a temporary setback. Things will get better for Gary soon."

"Hello? I'm still here," Gary interrupted as he waved his hand about.

"What? Did you say something, Gar?" Chuck asked.

Gary sighed.

~~~

Gary and Marissa said their good-bye's to Chuck, and Gary walked with Marissa to the El platform.

"I meant what I said earlier," Marissa said softly.  

"Howzat?"

"About things getting better for you. You're just going through an adjustment. A major one. You'll just have to keep smiling through the hard times," she said as she gently squeezed his arm. "They won't last forever."
 
"I know."

"That's not what's bothering you, though, is it?"

"No. Yes. I don't know."

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

"No, it's nothing. Really."

"Okay. Suit yourself."

They continued to walk along in silence for a few moments.

"I met a woman yesterday. Anna Parker. She's 76 and all alone in a nursing home. No one visits her and I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know why. It's crazy, I know."  

"It's not crazy, Gary. You have a kind heart and you see someone who needs help and you want to help."

"Help? How can I help her?"

"Be her friend. Get to know her. Let her tell you about the good old days."

"Hmm," Gary muttered. "Do you think she'd want me to?"

"I'm sure she'd love the visits, but all you can do is try, Gary."

"I...I think I might do that."

~~~

"May I help you, sir?" a sales associate asked.

"Yeah. I...uh, need a down comforter for a single bed and one of those covers for it."

"A duvet."

"A what?"

"A duvet. The cover for the comforter," she explained.

"Oh, yeah. One of those."

After hearing mind numbing explanations on the differences between all of the comforters, Gary finally chose one and decided on a soft floral print duvet.

The associate placed it in a large bag for him and within the hour he was at the nursing home, standing outside of room 220.  

He knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open slightly.

"Oh! It's you. Please. Come in," Anna said as she smiled warmly and waved him into the room.


Chapter Five
 
Anna looked so small and frail as she sat in her chair. Her dull gray hair was brushed away from a face etched with deep wrinkles. Her hand shook slightly as she waved him into the room, but her blue eyes twinkled with excitement at having a visitor.

"Hi, uh, is this a good time? I can, uh, come back some other time," Gary said.

"No, no. I'm not doing anything but holding this chair in place. I didn't get a chance to thank you yesterday. You got out of here so quickly."

Gary dropped his head. "That's okay. I'm glad I could help."

"Please, have a seat. And your name is?" Anna asked.

"Oh. Gary. Gary Hobson," he said politely as he sat down.

"It's nice to meet you, Gary. Jackie told me you said you were a friend of the family. But that couldn't be, because I have no family," she said as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Gary fidgeted in his seat. "Well, I, uh, didn't know how else to get in here."

Anna raised an eyebrow and cocked her head.  "And why would you want to get in here? How did you even know my name or that I was here?"

"Oh boy!" Gary muttered softly. "Uh, oh, here. I brought this for you," he said as he handed her the bag.

Anna's eyes lit up as she accepted the bag. "A gift?" she gasped.

"Well...uh...I thought you might be able to put this to some good use."

Eagerly she peeked into the bag, then gingerly pulled out the duvet and down comforter.

"Oh! My dear boy! Whatever possessed you to do such a kind thing?"

"I...uh. I thought you might like something to brighten your room a bit and I thought...well, uh, the blanket was damaged...I had a down comforter once...and..."  

"Your mother must be very proud of you."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess so. Here. Let me help," Gary said as he stood and took the comforter from her and unzipped the bag it was in before pulling the item out. He did the same thing with the duvet and Anna helped him put it on the comforter.

When they were done they placed it on her bed and she gently caressed the soft fabric.

"I've never owned a down comforter before," she said softly. "I always wanted one, though."

Gary let out a deep breath. "I'm glad you like it."  She turned to look at him and smiled and Gary got a glimpse of the young woman she used to be.

"Now. You were going to tell me how you knew I was here and why you came yesterday."

Gary gulped. He hadn't prepared himself for this and now he realized he should have.

"Well, you see...I...uh," Gary stammered as he scratched the back of his head.

Anna drew a quick breath and staggered backwards. Gary was by her side quickly, helping her to her chair.

"Are you alright?" Should I call the nurse?"

She patted his hand. "No, dear. I'm fine. I..." she paused as she dropped her head. "The way you scratched your head, just now, it reminded me of someone...of someone I knew a very long time ago. Someone I've tried to forget."

Gary sat back down. "We all have things in our past that we'd rather not remember."

She looked up at him as she blinked back tears.

Her moist eyes made him uncomfortable and he began to wish he hadn't come.

"It happens every year about this time. Try as I might, I can't stop myself from remembering," she said softly as she wiped her tears away.

"Who was he?"

"Gib."

"Howzat?"

"Gilbert Harrison."

"The one that got away?" Gary asked.

She sighed deeply. "No. Gilbert was...he was...the biggest mistake of my life."

Nervously she smoothed down the front of her robe and then fidgeted with the sash.

"I was twenty-one and it was right before World War II."

"Pardon me. I hate to interrupt, but visiting hours are over," Jackie said.

"Oh, uh, okay, Gary stammered as he stood.

He turned to Anna. "Maybe I can come visit again?"

She smiled. "That would be very nice. It's not very often a handsome young man comes to call on me. Thank you again, for my comforter. See what he brought me, Jackie? Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes, it is. That was very kind of you."

"Well, it was, uh, the least I could do. Good night," he said with a half wave.

"Good night," Anna said as she slowly climbed onto the bed and pulled her new comforter to her chin and sighed.


Chapter Six

Snow continued to fall as Gary trudged up Michigan Avenue to the Blackstone. His feet, hands and nose were frozen. His cheeks, chapped and red from the cold, and his jeans wet up to his knees.

"Hot shower. Hot coffee. Food. Bed," Gary muttered as he walked across the lobby of the Blackstone, his shoes squeaking on the marble with each step.

"Did you say something, Mr. Hobson?" Boswell asked, appearing out of nowhere, causing Gary to jump.

"Oh, nothing, Boswell. I was just talking to myself," Gary replied as he continued walking.

He stopped and turned. "Boswell?"

"Yes, Mr. Hobson?"

"Is there, well, I hate to complain, but I think my new neighbor is smoking and I can smell it in my room."

"Mr. Hobson, you have no new neighbors and your floor is a non smoking one."

"Oh, well, uh, someone is definitely smoking."

"I'll check it out for you."

"Thanks, Boswell. And while you're at it, could you have someone check my heater? I think it's trying to go out."

"Yes, Mr. Hobson."

~~~

As Gary entered his room, he once again smelled the faint odor of cigarette smoke and his radio was on, playing 'Stardust'.

"I know I didn't leave that on," Gary said as he turned the unit off.

He then went to the bathroom and quickly shed his clothes and stepped under the hot spray of water. The combination of heat and water beating down on him had the desired effect. He was relaxing and defrosting.

A good while later, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As he rubbed the terry cloth briskly over his body, he stopped, cocked his head and sniffed the air. "Coffee?" he asked out loud.

He put on his robe and opened the door to the bathroom and inhaled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He sniffed the air again. Something else...what was it?

He walked into the living room and sitting on his table was a large steak, baked potato and a steaming cup of coffee, plus a frosted mug of beer.

He scratched his head and looked around.

"Meow."

He looked down at the cat. "You didn't do this did you? Nah." Gary shook his head to ward off that thought. Right now he didn't care if the food had come from the Easter Bunny.

~~~

Gary awoke to a meow and thump of the paper seconds before his alarm clicked on. Once again playing a 40s tune, 'Somewhere over the Rainbow'.

"What the...?" he grumbled as he tried to change stations, but that song was the only one the radio would pick up.

The room suddenly grew cold and Gary shivered. He grabbed his robe and put it on as he walked to the door to retrieve the paper.

Cat entered slowly, then stopped and arched his back. His hair standing on end.

"What is it?" Gary asked as he turned to look behind him, the hairs raising on the back of his neck as he smelled cigarette smoke again.

Goose bumps skidded down his arms and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the creepy feeling that had come over him.

~~~

An hour later Gary entered the lobby.

"Boswell!"

"Yes, Mr. Hobson. Good morning, Sir. You'll be happy to know, I checked with all of your neighbors and none of them have been smoking in their rooms."

Gary stopped short. "Are you sure? Cause I smelled it again this morning."

"Very sure. I checked the rooms myself and I have a very sensitive nose."

Gary scratched his head. "You didn't, uh," he paused and let out a nervous chuckle. "You didn't happen to bring me a steak dinner last night, did ya?"

"Why, no, Mr. Hobson," Boswell answered, then added jokingly, "Maybe it was the ghost."

"Howzat?!"

"Surely you've heard the story."

Gary shook his head, too stunned to speak.

"Back in 1941 a man was murdered in your room. It would have been quite the news story of the day, but it happened on December 7th, so a murder of a wealthy playboy, caught sparking his best friend's gal, wasn't near as compelling as it would have been. It is his ghost that reportedly haunts your room. Funny, no one has heard from him in a while."

Gary was sufficiently spooked. He thanked Boswell and left the Blackstone. As he walked down the street, a curtain in his room moved aside. The hair on Gary's arms stood up and he turned to look up at the Blackstone. He shook his head and laughed. "Since when do you let ghost stories get to you?" he said out loud.


Chapter Seven

That evening, Gary stopped by the library and went through old newspapers from December 8, 1941, stored on microfiche. It was late, so he quickly made copies of the stories dealing with the murder and headed back to his room.

As he entered, 'Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy' was playing on the radio and a perceptive chill filled the air. He turned off the radio and turned up the heat, then grabbed a beer and the pizza box from the fridge and sat down on the sofa to begin reading the articles he had copied.

He straightened the papers and quickly scanned the account of the attack on Pearl Harbor before locating the article on the murder. Down in the bottom right hand corner of the front page of The Sun, was the story, titled 'Wealthy Bachelor Murdered in Blackstone Hotel.'

'Gilbert Harrison, 25, was shot to death last night at around 5:30 p.m. at the Blackstone Hotel on Michigan Avenue. Witnesses say they heard a gunshot and opened their doors to see a man running from Harrison's room.

The description of the man, fleeing the scene of the crime, fit Harrison's long time friend, Roland Sinclair, who has not been located at the writing of this story.'

Suddenly the coffee table shuddered and the sound of a gunshot split the air. Gary jumped up, dropping the papers he was holding. The radio clicked on and 'Somebody Else is Taking my Place' began playing.  

Gary's heart raced as his eyes darted around the room.

"I'm not finding this funny at all!" Gary snapped as he got up and unplugged the radio from the outlet. He returned to the sofa and gathered his papers. He took a deep breath to calm himself, took another look around the room, then began reading an article from December 9, 1941.

'Blackstone Murder Suspect in Custody'

'Yesterday, police issued a warrant for the arrest of Roland Sinclair, 25, for the murder of Gilbert Harrison, after several witnesses placed him at the scene of the crime. He is the son of Martin Sinclair, owner of Sinclair Mills in Chicago.

The suspect was apprehended at Union Station as he was attempting to board a train bound to San Francisco.

When the suspect was brought into the police station, a young woman connected to the two men involved was heard asking the suspect why he did it, to which Sinclair responded, "No one tries to steal my girl and lives to tell about it." Police immediately quieted the suspect and ushered him down the hall.

The woman has been identified as the girlfriend of Roland Sinclair, Miss Anna Parker.'

"Anna?" Gary whispered.

~~~

Gary had fallen asleep on the sofa, once again, and when the familiar meow of the cat and thump of the paper sounded, he rose to begin his day. As he attempted to get up, his feet became entangled with the throw he'd used to cover himself and he went down like a tree, his head glancing the corner of the coffee table as he fell.

"Damn!" he muttered under his breath as bright flashes of light blinded him.

He tried to get his feet loose, but the movement only succeeded in causing his head to throb.  Carefully he wiggled his feet till they were free, then gently touched the spot on his forehead and felt a knot rising.

He heard the door open and slowly opened his eyes.

"What the hell are ya doing down there? You tie one on last night?"

Gary groaned as he tried to raise his head off the floor. "No. It was that damn cat."

"What cat?"

"What cat? The cat with the newspaper, cat. What other cat would I be talking ...?" Gary paused as he sat back on his heels and looked up at the man who had been speaking to him.

Starting at his wing tip clad feet up to the pleated, tan trousers and crisp white shirt with a brown and gold tie and brown blazer, to the felt fedora resting on top of his head and a trench coat draped over one arm. The man inside the clothes didn't look any more familiar than the attire he wore.

"Who are you?" Gary asked as he placed a hand to his forehead.

"Good Lord! Look at that goose egg. You must have really knocked yourself for a loop, friend," the man said as he tossed his fedora and coat to a nearby chair.

"Here, let me help."

Gary took his hand and got his feet under him enough to sit on the sofa. He closed his eyes and groaned.

"I'll get some ice to put on that," the stranger said as he disappeared into the kitchenette area.

Gary looked down and noticed he was wearing blue and white striped pajamas. "What the ...?" he muttered. He hadn't worn pajamas since he was a kid.

"Here," the man said as he returned with a tea towel wrapped around ice. "Ooowee! You got a doozy of a knot on your head," he laughed.

The man unbuttoned his blazer, then sat down.

Gary stared at him before looking around the room. The wall paper was no longer faded; the door frames and floors were no longer scratched or nicked and gleamed like they were newly polished.  

He looked back at the man in the strange attire.  "Who are you and wha...what happened here?"

"You really don't remember me, Gib?" the man asked.

Gary placed the ice gently on his forehead and flinched slightly. "No, you've got it all wrong. I'm Gary Hobson," he explained.

The man chuckled. "Gary Hobson, huh? I'm not some dame you're foolin', Gib. You're Gilbert Harrison, the one and the same that I've known since I was 10 years old."

Shock registered on Gary's face. "Gib...Gilbert Harrison?"

"Maybe I should take you to see a doctor," the man said as he started to rise.

"No! Just...who...tell me who you are?" Gary asked as a sinking feeling overcame him.

"I'm Roland. Roland Sinclair. We've been friends since we were kids and you stopped Jimmy Carmichael from knocking my block off on the playground."

"You're Roland Sinclair and I'm Gilbert Harrison?"

Roland nodded.

Gary groaned as he adjusted the ice on his brow. "Oh boy!"


Chapter Eight

Gary looked in the mirror and grimaced as he gently touched the knot on his forehead. Other than that, he looked the same as he did yesterday. But the man in his living room still thought he was Gilbert Harrison. And that man was Roland Sinclair, the man who killed him.

"Gib? You okay in there?" Roland asked after tapping lightly on the bathroom door.

Gary turned and slowly opened the door.

"Cigarette?" Roland offered.

"No, thanks. I don't smoke."

Roland frowned. "Ah, so you're quitting." He returned the pack to his coat pocket.  "If you're okay, I really need to go. I'm supposed to meet Anna in the dining room downstairs and if I'm late she'll be sore at me."

"Anna?"

"Mmm, hmm."

"Do you mind, I mean, can I join you? Maybe coffee would help."

"Sure, just none of that flattery you use on her. You could make a guy think you was trying to steal his girl or something," Roland said as he turned and walked to the closet.

Gary followed him and was handed the matching blazer to his trousers.

"I hate suits," Gary grumbled.

"Since when?" Roland laughed. "You have more clothes in your closet than my own mother. Here," he said as he shoved a black fedora into Gary's hands.

He placed the hat on his head and slipped on the black, double breasted blazer and raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the mirror. Not bad, he thought.

Roland led the way down the hall to the elevator and Gary absorbed the new sights around him. The carpeting was a lush burgandy color with a diamond pattern. White wainscoting went up a third of the way on the wall and the rest was covered in English countryside murals. Brass light fixtures lit the hallway and a mahogany table and chairs sat against one wall. It was beautiful. Gary was finding it hard to believe this was even the same hotel.

When they stepped into the lobby, Gary caught sight of a red suited doorman out of the corner of his eye. He turned quickly but the figure was gone.

"Boswell?"

"That guy gives me the creeps. Always poppin' in and out all mysterious like."

"What's his name?"

Roland shrugged his shoulders. "Never asked."

Gary followed Roland into the Marble Room and looked around in awe at the sight before him.

The white marble walls gleamed brightly as ornate crystal chandeliers hung from brass chains throughout the room. An intricate leaf pattern was embossed in the thick green carpeting and the chairs and curtains were the same color green.

The tables were covered in white linen cloths set with white China with a gold lacework border and the Blackstone crest at the top, and crystal goblets. Crystal vases that held red gardenias stood in the center of each table while larger pots of the same flower were placed around the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Harrison. Mr. Sinclair," the maitre`d greeted as he  took their hats and coat.  

"Morning." Gary nodded as they were led to a table.

Roland smiled as he pulled his chair closer to the table. "We beat her here. Looks like *I* won't be the one in the dog house," he said as he winked.

Gary looked at the man across from him. He looked younger than his 25 years and had sandy brown hair, slicked back from his face. He had dark brown eyes, the color of coffee. He was about Gary's height and quick to smile, but there was something about his eyes that unsettled Gary.

Gary closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up.

"Good Lord! Gib! What happened? Are you okay?"

Gary opened his eyes and looked into a pair of blue eyes filled with concern.

Roland stood and for the briefest moment, he frowned. "You're late," he whispered, then raised his voice to normal. "He tripped over his own feet this morning and conked his head on a table. He's still a bit woozy. He thinks he's someone named Gary Hops...Hopson, instead of..."  

"Hobson. Gary Hobson," Gary corrected as he stood.

Anna straightened and he felt as if he towered over her petite frame. She wore a long sleeved, ice blue, silk blouse embroidered with a brightly colored peacock over the left breast and a navy blue skirt that fell just below her knees. Her blond hair was cut short and curled close around her head and she wore some sort of thick headband that was covered in beads and netting.

"Anna. You look... swell," Gary said softly.

Anna blushed becomingly then nervously looked to Roland.

"You remember me, don'tcha, Anna?" Gary asked hopefully.

"Of course I remember you, Gib."

Gary ran his hand across the back of his head.

"I'm not Gilbert Harrison. I'm Gary Hobson. Look at me, do I look like Gilbert?"

Anna and Roland exchanged looks.

"You look exactly like the Gib I know," Roland replied.

"Anna, remember...the fire in your room and I bought you a new down comforter?"

She blinked. "No. Gib, there's never been a fire in my room and you never bought me anything."

Anna sat down in the chair that Roland had pulled out for her and he and Gary returned to their seats.

"I tripped and hit my head this morning and when I came to, I was here," Gary said in a low voice.

"And where were you this morning? Kansas?" Roland joked.

"No. I was in my room at the Blackstone."

"Well, at least you got that part right," Roland sighed.

Gary leaned forward on the table. "You don't understand. This must be a dream. It has to be. See, I don't wear these kinds of clothes and when I look in the mirror I see me." He held up his hand to keep Roland from interrupting. "And you," he continued as he pointed to Anna.  "You're an old woman."

"Well! I'll say! I'm *not* an old woman!" Anna cried.

"Calm down, Gib. You're still a bit disorientated. You can see Anna isn't an old woman and we all wear clothes like this. It's the 40s."

"Exactly!" Gary said as he slapped his palm on the table, causing the glasses to teeter.

Anna's brows knotted in confusion.

"Roland. He's not well. You should take him to see a doctor."

"I tried that already," he said as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and placed one in his mouth and lit it.

"You mind if I have one of those?" Gary asked, overcome by an urge to smoke.

Roland shook the pack expertly and one cigarette popped out. Gary placed it in his mouth and Roland lit it for him. He took a long drag and blew out the smoke before speaking again.

"When I went to sleep last night it was December 5, 1996. Not 1940 something."

"1941. It's December 6th, 1941," Roland said. "I really think you should see a doctor, friend."


Chapter Nine
 
Gary forced a laugh. "I just need some rest. If you'll excuse me," he said as he put out his cigarette, scooted his chair back from the table and stood.

Anna reached out and lightly touched his arm. He looked down at her long fingers and smooth skin and realized the difference from the aged hands he'd seen only a few days ago.

"I'm...I'm okay, really. I'm going back to my room and lie down. I'm sure I'll be back to my old self in no time," he stated before walking away. I hope I will be back to my old self, he thought.

When he got back to his room, he took his blazer and shoes off and stretched out on the bed and covered his eyes with one hand, kneading the temples with his fingers.

He tried to clear his mind and breathe deeply. Things just didn't add up. There was no way he could actually be in 1941, and he didn't smoke and he didn't say things like 'you look swell', and he shouldn't feel inside the way that he did when he looked at Anna. It was like he wasn't really himself or someone else was trying to take over.

"What was the name of that movie? Invasion of the Pod People? Nah, that's not it. Chuck would remember," Gary said out loud. Thinking of Chuck made him think of Marissa and suddenly he missed them both.

He groaned and pulled a pillow over his head and rolled over; the next thing he knew, he opened his eyes and two hours had passed. He looked down at his clothes and sighed as he realized he was dressed the same.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Where is the paper? Where's that damn cat?" He looked up. "Does the Sun-Times even exist?"

He got up and walked to the door and opened it. Looking down he saw there was no cat and no paper. He closed the door and rubbed his hand over his face.

He was beginning to think this might not be a dream, but time travel wasn't possible. He shrugged his shoulders. But neither was getting tomorrow's newspaper today.

He walked back into the bedroom and grabbed his blazer, a top coat and his fedora before making his way downstairs. Since he was here, he thought he might do a bit of sightseeing.

His first stop was the Barber Shop, which in 1996 was a gift shop.

Mirrors surrounded the room, divided by white columns. On each side of the room there were four red and chrome barber chairs in front of white porcelain sinks. On either side of the sinks were marble topped mahogany tables that held the barber's utensils. Intricate molding framed the recessed ceiling and white marble tiles covered the floors.

"Time for another haircut, Mr. Harrison?" a barber called out.

"No, thanks, uh, I was just looking for someone," Gary lied as he turned and walked down the hall.

The Mayfair Room and the Balinese Room were closed until dinner, so Gary decided to venture outside the hotel.

If he thought the sight of the Blackstone was shocking, the sight of 1941 Chicago almost put him into cardiac arrest.

He looked across Michigan Avenue to Grant Park, then to his left where more than half the buildings he was familiar with weren't there.

He turned the collar of his coat up to ward off the cold breeze and began walking north on Michigan Avenue.  After a few blocks he crossed the street and hailed a cab to the North Avenue Beach.

He was relieved to find a bench in his favorite spot. He made himself comfortable as he sat down and looked across the lake at the much changed skyline.

The Drake Hotel was still in clear view as was the Palmolive Building and Navy Pier. The willow tree behind him, that had shaded his bench during the summer, wasn't much more than a sapling now.

Everything was different. He stared off into space as his mind tried to sort through this bizarre occurrence.

Had he really been transported back in time? How could that be possible? And why? Or was it all just a really strange dream?

The breeze rustled a paper in the trash can next to the bench. Gary turned at the sound and noticed it was a newspaper. He leaned over and pulled it from the can.

Snapping the paper in the air, he folded it over to the front page and looked at the date.

December 6, 1941.

"December 6.....1941," Gary whispered into the wind. "Pearl Harbor."

"Meow!"

Gary's head jerked in the direction of the meow and he heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Cat sitting near the lake's edge.

"It's about time you showed up," Gary snapped.  The cat stared at him calmly.

"Just what have you got me into this time?"

The cat didn't make a sound.

"Am I here to stop the attack on Pearl Harbor? Just how in the hell am I supposed to do that? Or am I supposed to stop Gilbert Harrison from being murdered? Or both?"  

"Meow."

Gary wadded the paper up and threw it back into the trash. "Some help you are."


Chapter Ten

Gary drummed his fingers on the desk, next to an ashtray full of cigarette butts and one half smoked cigarette, impatiently as he waited to be connected with the FBI.

Cat sat nearby, grooming himself nonchalantly.

"Yes? Hello. I need to speak to someone, the head of...J. Edgar Hoover...Is he in charge?" he asked as a voice answered on the other end of the line.

"No, it's very important that I speak with him...You don't understand...It's a matter of life and death. Yes, that would make it very important, wouldn't it?" Gary sighed deeply.

"Alright. Please make sure he gets this message. I want you to give it to him personally." Gary took a deep breath before continuing. "Tomorrow morning, December 7th, just before 8 A.M. Honolulu time, Japanese Zero pilots are going to bomb Pearl Harbor."

Gary tried desperately to remember all he had learned in American History class in High School and what he'd read in the article in the paper.

"Several...most of the battleships will be hit.  The Arizona and the Oklahoma will sink. Hickam Airfield will be hit along with Scofield Barracks...No, this isn't some kind of a story. This is going to happen tomorrow unless someone warns...Hello? Hello? Damn!" Gary cursed as he slammed the phone onto its cradle.

Hours later he sat with his arms folded on the desk and his forehead resting on his arms. He'd spent the afternoon on the phone calling everyone he could think of from Washington D.C. to Pearl Harbor. If he got through to anyone at all, they thought he was someone with too much time on his hands with a sick sense of humor.

He jumped when there was a knock on his door. He took a deep breath. The cops, or the FBI, maybe, were here to haul him away. He was sure there was some kind of law against calling in supposed false alarms to the White House. Hadn't one of the many people he'd talked to today, told him so?

Silently he walked to the door and looked through the peep hole and saw Anna.

He heaved a sigh of relief as he opened the door. "Anna. Hello."

"Hello, Gib. May I come in?"

"Sure," he said as he stepped aside, then closed the door behind her.

She set her purse on the table and draped her cape over a chair before turning to him.  He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked. She wore a navy
velvet dress with a mandarin collar adorned with navy sequins and capped sleeves. The skirt fell to about mid calf and was draped across the front and gathered at the waist with a chiffon flower. Her blond hair was curled softly around her face and one side was pulled up with a blue sequined comb. She wore navy velvet gloves that went up past her elbows and navy pumps.

"Wow!"

"Thank you," she sighed. "I wish...You always make me feel..."

"Oh, I'm...ah...sorry. I...uh, shouldn't have," Gary stammered.

"Don't apologize. A girl likes to have a guy take notice every now and then." She rubbed her arms nervously. "How's your head?"

"It's okay," he replied.

Suddenly feeling all jumpy inside, he rubbed the back of his head.

Anna reached up and softly touched his hand.

"You'll wear a bald spot back there if you don't stop that," she said as she smiled up at him.

Gary's fingers wrapped around her gloved hand and moved it from his head, pausing before releasing her grasp and taking a step back.

"Are you alright? You look so worried," she asked gently. "You don't still think you're someone named Gary..."

Suddenly Gary grabbed her hand and led her to the sofa.

"Gilbert, what is it?"

"Anna, I want to tell you something. Something that is hard to believe, impossible even, but it happened."

She smiled and leaned closer, expectantly.  "Yes, Gilbert?"

"I'm really *not* Gilbert Harrison. My name is Gary Hobson and I was born on September 17, 1965 in Hickory, Indiana. I currently live in Chicago at this hotel, in this room, but it's not 1941. It's 1996.  

"I met you a couple of days ago in a nursing home. Your bed caught fire and I saved you. I came back the next day with a down comforter for you and you told me about Gilbert being the biggest mistake of your life. And...and...well, I, I think you should stay away from me. That's why I, I'm here. To stop that mistake with me, I mean Gilbert, and to stop December 7th from happening." Gary paused and took a deep breath.

Anna pulled her hand out of his grasp as she  eyed him questionably.

"Wha...what mistake am I going to make with you?" she asked quietly.

"I don't think it's you who makes the mistake. It's me, I mean Gilbert and, and if you stay away from me, maybe things will turn out alright for you."

"This doesn't make any sense, Gilbert. How am I supposed to believe this story? Because honestly, it's very unbelievable."
 
"Could you just take a leap of faith and trust me?" Gary pleaded.

Anna raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, let's see," he said as she scratched his head. "Anna, I...I don't know what I can say to prove this to you." He took her hand in his. "I just really need you to believe me."

Her expression softened before she got up and walked to the window. She was silent for several minutes before she spoke again. "You said I was in a nursing home. Do Roland and I marry?"

Gary moved to stand behind her. "I'm, I don't think so."

She turned to look up at him. "So, you believe what happens between us, I mean between Gilbert and me, will happen tomorrow?"

Gary wished he could have felt some elation in the fact that she'd corrected herself, but the look on her face broke his heart.

"Yeah."

"You also said you were here to stop December 7th from happening. You said it like it was an important date. Like something of significance will happen..."

"That, no, that doesn't concern you."

She stared at him for a few moments before turning back to look out the window. "I'm not sure I totally believe you."
 
Gary placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. He looked down into eyes that were moist with tears. "I promise you. I'm telling the truth," he whispered.

She tilted her face to his and he leaned closer.

"Anna, as much as I would love to kiss you right now, I can't. I won't!"

She stepped back and blinked rapidly. "Oh my word!" she gasped. "Do you think I seduce you and Roland finds out? If he did, he'd kill us both. He's so terribly jealous. He drives me insane with his jealousy."

Gary swallowed hard.

"This...this can't be happening! How *could* this happen? You look just like Gib, you sound like him, but there...there *is* a difference," she cried.
 
She nibbled on her bottom lip, then turned to look at the clock as it chimed.

"Anna, I don't know how..." Gary began.

"I have to be going. I'm meeting Roland downstairs in the Balinese Room. I don't want to be late," she said nervously. "I hate to go. I feel like there is more we need to talk about."

"It's okay. You should go."

She picked up her cape and purse and Gary followed her to the door.

"I guess it's out of the question for you to join us?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so," Gary said as he opened the door.

"Anna? What are you doing here?" Roland asked.


Chapter Eleven

"Roland!" Anna gasped. "I...was just on my way to meet you."

"Ah. I see. You just took a little side trip to visit Gib?"

"Yes. Just a quick one. I wanted to see how he was feeling," she explained.

"And how are you feeling, Gib? A little randy tonight, maybe?"

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you for asking," Gary replied coolly.

Roland placed his hand on Anna's arm. "Let's go. We wouldn't want to be late," he literally hissed.

"You don't care if I join you, do ya? I haven't eaten all day and I'd hate to have to eat alone," Gary stated.

Roland stiffened and Anna looked relieved.

"I don't think so," Roland replied. At the same time Anna said," That would be nice, Gib."

"Great. I'll get my jacket."

~~~

Gary could hardly appreciate the splendor of the Balinese Room as they entered, even though it was spectacular with its white marble walls and columns. Large paintings of tropical scenes with flamingos and semi nude native women and palm trees adorned the walls. Each table was covered in a white linen tablecloth with a yellow floral centerpiece. Two orange and two green colored chairs surrounded each table and in the center of the room was an oval, copper dance floor. At one end was a stage with a five piece band, including a female singer.

The trio was seated near the dance floor and none of them were speaking.

Gary was beginning to realize that even though Roland had the look of an innocent kid on the surface, underneath his temper simmered on the edge of boiling. Better judgement told him to stay away from both of them, but he couldn't leave Anna alone with Roland. She deserved something better than a jealous husband who was capable of murder.

The band began to play 'Faithful Forever' and Roland led Anna onto the dance floor.

Gary lit a cigarette and looked around the room at people laughing and eating, dancing and smiling. Unaware that their world would be turned upside down in less than 24 hours.

His gaze settled on Anna and Roland. Did she really love him? He could leave this room right now and go away, and he was pretty sure Gilbert wouldn't be murdered, but then what would happen to Anna? Would her future be worse than it already was?

Their food was brought and even as hungry as Gary was, he ate without tasting the food.

He cleared his throat. "Roland. You told me this morning, we'd been friends since we were kids. I defended you against a bully on the playground?"

"Yes, you did. I decided then and there that I wouldn't be pushed around again and I learned to fight my own battles. You even taught me how to throw a punch," Roland added.

"Gee, aren't I aces?" Gary said under his breath. "Why, uh, am I living here? In a hotel?"

"Gib said a room here suited his lifestyle better than a rambling old mansion," Anna said.

"What she means is, you never plan on marrying or having kids, so why have the upkeep of a big house and servants? This way you still get waited on hand and foot and it's mighty convenient when you find a sweet dolly, here at the bar," Roland winked.

"Oh, well, I, uh..." Gary stammered as he blushed.

"You're lucky your parents are dead. You have sole control over the money and can do what you want. I'm expected to work at that mill every day and learn the business, or I get nothing," Roland said as he crushed a cigarette in the ash tray.

"Roland! What a horrible thing to say. I'm sure Gib would rather have his parents than all that money, any day," Anna chastised.  

"Don't you talk to me in that tone," Roland replied angrily.

"You know what I'd like is to dance with Anna. You don't mind, do ya, Roland? I mean it's out here in public and I couldn't be accused of trying to steal your gal with you right here, now could I?"

Roland's face turned red with anger and Gary knew he was pushing him. He stood and took Anna's hand and led her to the dance floor as the band began to play, 'We'll Meet Again'.

"You really shouldn't push Roland like that," Anna whispered.

"I know I shouldn't, but I can't seem to help myself."

"We should be careful. Both of us. Just in case," she pleaded with him.

"Is he like this all the time? Angry, I mean?"

"Not all of the time. It's been tough on him at the mill. Business is hurting and he's afraid he might lose some or all of his inheritance. He's so concerned with money. I wish he could be more like you. I mean Gib. Gib has a lot of money but he doesn't flaunt it. And all of that talk about him being a ladies' man, he's not. It's all a big show. I think Gilbert is scared of getting hurt. Of loving someone and losing them, like he did his parents. They died in a boating accident on Lake Michigan a few years ago. I understand his pain. I lost both of my parents, too."

Gary nodded. "I'm very sorry."

Anna smiled sadly.

"How did you meet Roland?"

"It was here, actually. In this room. I used to be a singer with a band, but after Roland and I got together, he didn't think it was proper. So now I work in a typing pool at the mill."

Gary didn't like what he was hearing. Not at all. "Why do you stay with him? You could do so much better."

Anna shrugged. "I..I don't know. I used to love him, but now...I've had to give up so much for him. Should love be that way? Should I have to give up something I love so much, for Roland to be able to love me?"  

"No. Love shouldn't be that way," Gary said as he pulled her a little closer to him. "Are you a good singer?"

She looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with longing. "I'm very good. I love to sing."

"Sing for me."

"What? Here? Now?" she asked, embarrassed.

"Yes. Sing this song. Just for me," he whispered.

He knew he was treading on dangerous ground but he couldn't help himself. It felt as if sometimes, someone else took over and he had no control.

Anna dropped her head and cleared her throat, then began to sing softly.

'Keep smiling through
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away

And I will just say hello
to the folks that you know
Tell them you won't be long
They'll be happy to know
That as I saw you go
You were singing this song

We'll meet again, don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again
some sunny day.'

The music stopped and dancers applauded as Gary and Anna continued to sway in each others arms.

"That was beautiful," Gary whispered.

"Thank you."

"You say Gib has a lot of money?" Gary asked.

Anna nodded.

"If I gave you enough money, would you leave Chicago and go far away from here and Roland?"

"Why? Why do you want me to go?" she asked.  

"You're making a spectacle of yourselves," Roland whispered. "People are staring."

Anna stepped back quickly. "Thank you, Ga...Gib. Dance with me, Roland," she said as she took Roland's hand in hers and gave him a brilliant smile.

Slowly, Gary backed away.


Chapter Twelve

Gary tossed and turned that night, sleep eluding him.

He finally rose before dawn and lit a cigarette before he went out onto the patio to watch the sun come up.

He was sure he'd made matters worse last night. He hadn't had another chance alone with Anna to see if he could convince her to go away so that she'd be safe.

*Thump* "Meow!"

Gary turned, surprised that the paper would come today. He made his way to the door and stepped out of the way after he opened it, and cat trotted in.

Gary picked up the issue of The Sun and stared at the bold headline announcing the attack on Pearl Harbor.

"Damn! They didn't do anything."

He slammed the door and ran to the phone, thinking he still had time.

He had the operator connect him to every radio station and newspaper in Honolulu. All of them hung up on him, several giving him a few choice words before they cut off the connection.  He didn't know what else to do. He looked at the paper again. Nothing had changed. As Gary lit a cigarette he realized that this was the same paper he had made copies of a few days ago. There, in the bottom right hand corner, was the article on Gilbert's murder.

Gary put down the paper, then showered and dressed. He ordered up breakfast and tried to eat. He looked at his watch--12:30. He turned on the radio and waited for the news to come in.

Breakfast weighed like lead on his stomach and his heart raced. If only he could have stopped it.

'Dreaming' was playing on the radio when the announcer broke in.

"We interrupt this program to bring you a special bulletin. The Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor. The White House announces, Japanese planes bombed Pearl Harbor Naval Base in Oahu, Hawaii this morning in a sneak attack."

Gary turned off the radio and made his way downstairs. A few people were talking quietly when someone ran in and cried out, "We've been attacked. The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor!"

The quiet of the day was broken with that news as men exclaimed in anger and women began to cry.

Out on Michigan Avenue, life seemed to go on unchanged; for now.

Gary stepped into a cab and asked to be taken to the North Avenue Beach. There wasn't anything he could do about Pearl Harbor, now. He knew he had to try and focus on Anna and Gilbert. Maybe if he stayed at the beach he could stop Gilbert from dying.

He arrived at the beach and made his way to the bench. He sat there, contemplating what to do as he looked at the newspaper. The article about Gilbert's murder hadn't changed, so staying away from everybody was not going to change the fact that a young man was going to die and Anna would spend the rest of her life alone. Heartbroken? Guilt ridden? Either way, Gary wanted to find some kind of solution that would give her a better future. He wasn't sure why he felt so strongly about that.
 
He pulled a cigarette out of his jacket and lit it and as he brought it to his lips he stopped and looked at it. "Why am I smoking? I don't smoke?' he said out loud as he dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his shoe.

"Gib..Gary," Anna paused and sighed. "I'm not sure what to call you."

Gary turned at the sound of her voice. "Anna. What are you doing here? I told you to stay away from me."

"Yes, you did. About 3 minutes before you invited yourself to dinner with Roland and me," she shot back.

Gary dropped his head. "Fair enough. How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. Gilbert comes here when he needs to think and I thought...I'd hoped you'd be here too."

Gary nodded as Anna sat down next to him.

"Are you alright? You look so pale," he stated.

"You haven't heard about the attack?"

"Pearl Harbor." He nodded. "I knew."

Anna looked at him thoughtfully. "Oh my Lord! This was the other thing you mentioned that you were trying to prevent. Isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I tried. I really did."

She reached out and took hold of his hand. "I'm sure you did everything you could."

"It still wasn't enough."

Gary squeezed her hand slightly as they sat in silence.

"I'm scared," Anna said, breaking the silence. I can't believe we were attacked. How could this happen? Why?" She looked up at Gary. Her eyes wide with fear. "Will there be more attacks today?"

"Shh," Gary uttered as he gently stroked her hair. "There won't be any more attacks. They thought they could scare us. That this would keep us out of the war."

"But, we'll go to war, won't we? We can't let them get away with this," Anna stated.

"Yes, we go to war," Gary answered softly.

"Will we win?" she asked as her voice faltered.

Gary looked down at her, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes. We win. In Europe and in the Pacific."

"We fight Hitler, too? Tell me it won't last long. Tell me we beat them all very soon," she pleaded.

"I wish I could. The war won't end until 1945. It's...."

Gary wished he could remember more of the battles fought and won, details of Midway, D-Day and Guadal Canal, but it was probably best not to tell Anna any more than he already had.  

"...It's going to be okay."

The wind off the lake was cold and stung their cheeks as they sat in silence, staring out over the lake. Anna leaned against him and he placed his arm around her and pulled her close.

"Gary, is it alright if I call you that?"

He nodded.

"What's going to happen today? To me? Why do you want me to leave town?"

Gary rubbed the back of his head. "Anna, it's probably best..."

"If you tell me, I will take the money and leave."

"You'll go away and never set foot in Chicago again? You'll go out there and sing so everyone can hear you and you'll find someone worthy of your love?"

She took a deep breath. "It's Roland. He's going to kill me, isn't he?"

"No. No, he's not, but he is capable of murder. You deserve someone so..."

"He's going to kill you, I mean Gib, because he knows it's Gilbert that I really love."


Chapter Thirteen

"You love Gilbert? But you told me he was the biggest mistake of your life!" Gary exclaimed.

"I..I can't imagine why I'd say such a thing, unless it is because I was the reason that Gilbert died."

"Anna, are you sure you love Gilbert?"

"Oh, yes. There was something about him the first time I met him. He was so kind, with gentle eyes. And the way he looks at me and compliments me, he always treats me like a lady. He has a reputation as a ladies' man, but he's not. He's really so desperate to love someone and be loved in return. He's told me, here on this bench, how much he wants to find someone to love and to marry and have children with. I've wanted to tell him for so long that I love him, but I've been scared to. Scared he'd reject me or scared he'd actually love me in return and mostly scared of how Roland would react. Gary, if I leave tonight, he'll still kill Gilbert, won't he?"

Gary said nothing.

"Please tell me. I have to know Gilbert will be safe if I leave."

"Yes," Gary lied. "Gilbert and you will both be safe if you leave town."

He could see the conflict in her eyes, could understand she was torn.

"Come with me. If you aren't here, Roland can't kill Gilbert. And if he doesn't, you'll go back to where you belong and Gilbert will be with me. Safe."

"I can't go with you. If I do and he realizes it, do you think he'd just let us go?"

She sighed. "No, he wouldn't. He'd come after us."

"We'll figure this out somehow. I'll get you the money and we'll decide on a destination and put you on a train. I'll...I'll go back to the Blackstone and won't let on like I know where you are. I'll leave a note where Gilbert can find it and when I'm gone and things are safe he can come to you. I know he will."

She shivered as she inhaled the cold air. "You look like Gilbert," she said longingly. "If I leave, I might never see him again. Never get the chance to tell him I love him."

Gary gently caressed her face. "Just in case," he whispered as he leaned forward and tenderly kissed her lips. They were sweet and tasted like peppermint.

His hand moved behind her head and cradled it as he deepened the kiss. Tears flowed down her cheeks and salted their lips.

"Gilbert, I love you," she breathed on Gary's skin.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes and smiled. "No worries, okay? Everything will turn out fine."

She nodded as he stood up and took her hand.

~~~

Gary had located the bank president and convinced him to open the bank for him to withdraw funds. As a condition, he had to swear to the man that he wasn't going to withdraw every penny and he'd keep the transaction on the QT. The city was in a panic and the banker feared how it would effect his business if word got out.

With that done, he'd taken Anna to her apartment and helped her pack. When they arrived at Union Station, he bought her a one way ticket to New York.

He'd watched her board the train, but she had begged him not to stay and watch her go, claiming it was bad luck.

He arrived back at the Blackstone, wondering if he'd made a mistake in letting Anna leave town alone. Maybe he should have gone with her. If he packed a bag and boarded a train bound for New York, he, actually Gilbert, would be out of harm's way for a while and he wouldn't die. Anna could fill Gilbert in, and it would be up to him to take care of Roland. Gary looked at his watch. He didn't have much time.

He ran across the lobby to the elevators. Impatiently he rode one to the top floor and ran down the hall to his room. He opened the door and went straight to the bedroom and grabbed a suitcase. Quickly he began tossing clothes into the case. He went into the bathroom and hurriedly tossed necessities into a smaller bag. He stopped when he heard footsteps inside the room and the dead bolt on the door click into place.

Gary cursed under his breath.

"Looks like you're going someplace. You weren't going to tell me?"

"Roland. Uh...uh, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were handling the news and you weren't here. So, I've been waiting. Where have you been?" he asked suspiciously.  "I was out," Gary replied as he tried to remain calm.

"I see. And you're going *out* again? Looks like you're planning a trip. Are you traveling alone?"

Gary laughed nervously. "Of course I'm traveling alone."

"You weren't going to say good-bye? Not even to an old friend?"

"Well, I...there," his voice cracked. "Wasn't time. I'm...I'm...I'm going to sign up...to fight...that...that's it. I'm going to join the Army," Gary said as he closed the lid on the suitcase and snapped it shut.

"We're sure to join the war now, after this. I've got to do my part," Gary lied as he pulled the case off the bed and walked past Roland. He held his breath, hoping he'd get to the door.

"Really? You're going to join the Army?"

"Of course. Don't ya believe me?"

"I don't know, Gib. There was a time when I thought I could trust you with my life, but now I can't trust you with my own gal. So you tell me?"

Gary rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Roland," he said as he turned to face him.

"Hmm. Why are you leaving tonight? It's late, Gib. You couldn't wait till morning?"

"Well, I, uh, I'm anxious to get started," Gary said as he slowly reached for the door knob.

"I bet you are," Roland replied coolly as he pulled the gun from his coat pocket and aimed it at Gary. Gary's hand froze in mid air.

"You never were a good liar, Gib. Your problem is, you have a conscience. You can't tell a good lie if you feel guilty about it."

"Listen, Roland. You've got this..."
 
"Why would you feel guilty, Gib? You wouldn't be running off to meet Anna, would you?"

Gary grabbed the door knob.

"Not so fast, friend," Roland said evenly as he cocked the pistol.

Gary let go of the knob and held his hand up.

"Roland, listen to me. Don't do anything rash. I'm gonna set this suitcase down and we can talk about this," Gary said as he slowly lowered the case.

"There's nothing to talk about. I know what's going on with you and Anna. You think I'm stupid or something? Telling her how swell she looks, meeting her in the park, telling her all about how you feel about being alone and losing your parents. You don't think I know how that can turn a girl's head? And you did it all out in the open so you could say you weren't going behind my back. You had everything and you decided you needed Anna, too. Well you can't have her!"

"Okay. You're right. I was trying to steal her from you, but it didn't work. She doesn't love me so there isn't anything for you to worry about."

Roland laughed. "I've seen the way she looks at you. The way she'll never look at me," Roland said as he aimed the gun at Gary's head.

"You won't get away with this, Roland. You...you're in a hotel. People will hear the shot and they'll see...see you run from the room,"  Gary explained. "There's no need to do this. I promise, I'll sta...stay away from Anna."

Roland seemed to waver for a second.

"Thanks, friend. You know, you're too honest for your own good. It's gonna get you killed one day."

Gary gulped.

Roland took a step towards him and waved the gun at the window that led to the balcony. "I think maybe the attack this morning was too much for you to handle and you'll jump to your death." Roland laughed. "I could always count on you to get me out of a mess. Not that I'd have any trouble, but just in case..."

"Good thinking, Hobson," Gary muttered.

"Rowr!" Cat growled.

Surprised, Roland looked in the direction of the cat and Gary took the opportunity to rush him. He grabbed Roland's wrist and tried to wrench the pistol from his grasp.

Roland moved his foot behind Gary, tripping him and they fell back onto the sofa and rolled over onto the coffee table, which collapsed underneath them.

Roland swung his fist and made contact with Gary's cheek, stunning him momentarily. He loosened his grasp on Roland's wrist and his attacker broke free and stood up.

"I'll teach you to steal my girl," Roland sneered as his face contorted with anger.

Gary heard the cat hiss and Roland curse. Gary scrambled backwards and bumped into the end table causing the lamp to topple over and hit him in the head, just as a shot rang out.


Chapter Fourteen

"Gar? Gar, wake up."

"Mr. Hobson?"

"This doesn't look good, Boswell. Maybe you should call an ambulance."

"Yes, Mr. Fishman."

"Gary," he repeated as he carefully rolled Gary over. "Wake up."

Gary awoke with a start and grabbed Chuck's hands and flipped him so that he landed on his back with a thud and a whoosh of escaping air.

"What. The. Hell. Was. That. For?" Chuck groaned.

"Chuck? It's really you?"

"Yes, it's me. Who'd you think it was? Hulk Hogan?"

Boswell snickered.

They both turned to look at him.

"Should I notify the ambulance that there are two persons in need of assistance?" Boswell asked.

"No, you need not tell them that," Chuck said sarcastically as he sat up.

"What's today?" Gary asked.

"It's the 6th of December," Chuck replied.

"1996, right?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"I didn't stop it. I should have got on that train. It was stupid to come back here. I got him killed," Gary mumbled as he stood, carefully.

"You got who killed?" Chuck and Boswell asked in unison.

"Gilbert."

"Who?" Chuck asked as he scratched his head.

"Gilbert Harrison. The man who was murdered in this room in 1941. The Blackstone Murder. You told me about it, Boswell."

"I don't recall telling you that, Mr. Hobson. To the best of my knowledge there has never been a murder in any room in the Blackstone."

"But you told me his ghost haunted this room. You told me that, yesterday."

Boswell shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Gary rubbed his hand over his face. "It was all a dream," he said under his breath.

"You sure you're alright, buddy?" Chuck asked.

"Meow!"

Gary turned to see the cat waiting in the hall on top of the paper. He walked over and slowly bent down to pick it up.

"Uh, could you excuse us, Boswell?"

"But, the ambulance."

"No need for one. I'm alright. Really. I feel swell."

"Swell?" Chuck frowned.

"Thanks for the concern, Boswell. Really. I've got, ah, stuff now. So, good-bye," Gary said as he ushered Boswell out of the room and shut the door behind him.

"Gary, you're acting more strange than usual. Maybe I should take care of this today," Chuck said as he reached for the paper. Gary moved it out of his reach.
"I don't think so. If you'll excuse me, I've got things to do," Gary said as he opened the door and let Chuck out.

~~~

After showering and bandaging his head, he looked through the paper for any saves. He had two small incidents that morning then he had a two hour break before the afternoon saves.

With the two morning saves taken care of, he hurried to the Lake Shore Nursing Home.

Jackie greeted him with a smile.

"Hello. I bet I know who you're here to see."

Gary's heart plummeted. She was still here. "Is it okay to go see her?"

"Sure. You know the way."

Gary rushed down the corridor to room 220, anxious to see Anna and find out why she'd returned to Chicago.

He tapped on the door and entered upon the invitation issued.

"Anna. I've got so many questions to ask you. You might not even remember, but....who are you?" Gary asked as he stared at the strange woman in Anna's room.

"Oh, Gary. You silly boy," the woman laughed.

"You...you know me?"

"Of course I do. You rescued me from my burning bed a few days ago. Then brought me this new down comforter."

"But...but that was Anna. You're..."

"Emma. Emma Parks. Gary, are you alright? Did that bump on your head cause you to get things mixed up?"

Gary touched the bandage on his head. "Yeah, maybe it did."


Chapter Fifteen

Gary's feet were heavy that night as he walked down the hall to his room. He had just visited the Marble and Balinese rooms and their condition depressed him. He looked up at the faded wallpaper in the hall and wondered if the mural might still be underneath. And he wondered about Anna. Surely it all hadn't been a dream or a figment of his imagination.

Tomorrow was December 7th. 55 years since the attack on Pearl Harbor. It had sure felt like he'd been there. His heart felt heavy with the weight of not being able to stop such an event. But of course, he couldn't have stopped it. He wasn't there. He shook his head. The paper was driving him insane. That had to be it.

After visiting the nursing home, he'd wanted to go to the library to see if he could find out anything on Anna and Gilbert, but the paper hadn't allowed time for that. Maybe tomorrow.

He walked into his room and shut the door behind him. Walking over to the coffee table, he dropped his keys before bending over to pick up the photo copies stacked neatly on the table.  His heart sped up. He'd really made photo copies. 'Wealthy Bachelor Shot at Blackstone Hotel.' Gary frowned. He could have sworn the headline had said murdered before.

A cold breeze caused him to shiver and he looked up to see the window leading out to the balcony was open. His shoulders drooped. It looked like he still had his ghost, even if no one remembered him.

He walked to the window to close it.

"Gary?"

"Holy sheeeeesh!" Gary jumped and dropped the papers.

"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Startle me. Hell, you scared me half to...." he paused as the woman outside his window bent down and stuck her head into the room. She sat down on the window sill and carefully maneuvered her legs through the opening. She took Gary's offered hand, then stood up.

"The doorman let me in. I waited a while in here, then I thought I'd step outside to see the lights. It's certainly brought back memories being in this room." She dropped her head and laughed softly.

She looked different than she had at the nursing home. Now she stood straighter and her hair was shiny silver and elegantly styled and subtle makeup accentuated her features.

"Anna," Gary finally whispered.

She let out the breath she had been holding.

"It is you. You really do exist. All these years I wondered. I doubted, I...I didn't know what to think or believe anymore."

She began to shake and Gary took her hand and led her to a chair to sit down. He then closed the window, picked up the scattered papers and returned to the sofa and took a seat, laying the papers on the table.

Gary scratched the back of his head. "You've had 55 years to wonder what happened. I've had less than a day and I thought it was all a dream. I went to the nursing home and you weren't there."

Anna laughed. "Thank goodness."

"When did you come back to Chicago?" Gary asked.

"I never left."

"Howzat?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

She leaned over to the table and picked up the stack of papers and looked through them, until she found the one she wanted and handed it to Gary.

'Wealthy Bachelor Shot at Blackstone Hotel.'

'Gilbert Harrison, 25, was shot in the shoulder last night in his room at he Blackstone, during an altercation with Roland Sinclair. Matters could have been much worse if police had not been notified of Mr. Sinclair's intentions to cause Mr. Harrison harm, by Miss Anna Parker.  Police arrived at the scene just as Mr. Sinclair fired his weapon, wounding Mr. Harrison.'

"You didn't leave town on that train?"

"How could I? If I left, Gilbert would die."

"But I told you..."

"I know you told me Gib would be okay, but you're not a very good liar. I'm just stubborn enough that since I couldn't convince you...Gib to come with me, I had to make sure he'd be okay. I'd been through so much with Roland and I'd finally decided I wasn't going to be scared of him any longer. I had to do something. I asked you not to wait till the train left, so I could get off and call the police. I told them that I was afraid Roland was going to do something serious to you. That he was very jealous. They said they'd check it out.

"They had had problems with Roland in the past and I think they were looking for a way to lock him up. You see, money bought his freedom many times. Victims were paid off and money talks as they say.

"Gilbert had money, so he couldn't be bought. He pressed charges and Roland finally paid for his behavior.

"When I got to Gilbert in the hospital, he didn't remember anything of the previous few days. I took a chance and told him I loved him. He took my hand in his and held it to his mouth and told me he loved me too. We married as soon as he was released from the hospital. I told him about you, what you had done. I don't think he ever truly believed me. I wasn't sure if I believed it myself, but I swore if I was alive on this date I would see if you were here and if it had really happened."

Gary smiled. "So, you had a good life?"

"Oh, yes. Very good. While Gilbert was off fighting in the Pacific, I entertained troops at home, singing for the USO at Navy Pier. We had a son who was born after Gib shipped out. Gary was three before he ever saw his father."

"You...you named your son after me?"

"If it hadn't been for you, I would have never had him or married his father. I couldn't think of a more perfect name for him."

Anna cleared her throat and continued. "When the war ended and Gib came home, we had two more children. Girls. And we now have 7 grandchildren and 10 great grandchildren."  

"That's wonderful. I'm very happy for you."

"Thank you, Gary. I don't know how you did it, or who caused it to happen, but thank you."

Gary stood and hugged Anna close to him.

She pulled away slowly. "I should be going.  Gib's waiting for me downstairs. Would you...would you like to meet him?"

"Yes. Yes, I would."


Epilogue

Snow fell softly to the ground as Gary entered the Blackstone and rode the elevator to his floor.

It had been a long day, full of more surprises than Gary was capable of comprehending at this point. Time Travel? Santa Claus is real? It was enough to make a tired man grumpy.

The door to the elevator opened. "Merry Christmas!"

"Yeah, same to you," Gary replied, not even looking up as he passed the Blackstone employee who had spoken to him.

He unlocked his door and entered his room, shutting the door behind him. He paused as he looked up in shock at the sight of a decorated Christmas tree standing in his living room. He looked around the room. No one was there.

Slowly he made his way to the tree. Cat looked up at him and meowed. Next to him was the Paper with the headline, 'Snow Slows After Christmas Shopping'.
Gary took his hat off and walked to the window and sat down. He looked out at the falling snow and suddenly felt all alone. Marissa and Chuck were with their families. Both had invited him to come, as had Anna and Gilbert. But he'd declined the invitations. He didn't want to feel like the odd man out.

He wished he was home eating Christmas cookies and drinking hot chocolate with his parents. As a kid, they'd always let him open up one gift on Christmas Eve. He missed that.

He got up and walked to the bedroom and picked up the box he'd received from his parents and brought it back into the living room.  He opened it and placed the presents under the tree. He held back a small box and unwrapped it, revealing a leather billfold. He smiled wistfully as he caressed the soft leather.
"If this is what it feels like to be alone at Christmas..." he said out loud, then paused.

He thought of Emma at the home and how he hadn't had time to visit her since the day he'd shown up looking for Anna.

He grabbed his cap and headed out the door.

~~~

He knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in. Gary! What a surprise!" Emma said merrily as Gary entered the room.

He paused as he looked at the decorations in her room. In a corner, on a table, stood a small tree adorned with multi colored lights and ornaments that looked like they'd seen many years on a Christmas tree.  

White, twinkling lights were stapled around the window and Christmas music was playing on the radio.

"Hi. I...uh...I wanted to apologize for not...for leaving here so suddenly and not coming back."  

"Are you alright? I've been worried about you," Emma said kindly as she waved him to a chair.

He nodded. "These are for you. Merry Christmas," he offered as he set a pot of red poinsettias on a table then sat down.

"Thank you, Gary. They're lovely. And Merry Christmas to you, too."

He sighed deeply.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Huh? Oh...I just wanted to, you know, apologize and...uh...bring those by," he stammered.

"Are you not spending Christmas with family?"

Gary shook his head.

"Looks like you and me are in the same boat, kiddo," Emma said.

Gary smiled sadly. "You seem to be dealing with it better than I am."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I could be depressed that I've outlived most of my loved ones. My husband and daughter are both gone and my grandchildren live far away, but I just have to keep smiling through and use this time to think back on my life. I'm especially fond of the Christmas memories. They always make me smile. I bet your mother made Christmas very special for you growing up."

"Yeah. She did. We always had a real Christmas tree. No artificial ones were allowed in the house. It was always a big ordeal to pick out the perfect tree, but we always found it. When we got home, Dad and I would get the tree into the stand, while mom fixed us hot chocolate. She always had a few gifts already wrapped, so as soon as the tree was decorated there would be gifts underneath it."

Gary laughed as he gazed out the window at the falling snow and realized he felt relaxed. And happy.

"I remember this one Christmas...I must have been about nine years old...."

~The End

Email the author:   ghobson4@hotmail.com
  
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