Jaelyn peeked into a classroom door window, saw Mrs. Mayor writing on a chalkboard, and, bit-by-bit, turned a doorknob. She slipped inside the classroom, inched the door closed, crept past several student’s desks to her seat and then glanced two desks away at Jolie—who sat, gaping at her—and shrugged.
“So, class,” Mrs. Mayor said. “What’s the square-root of eighty-one?” She wrote her question on the blackboard, and no one answered.
“Come on,” she said and then peered at her writing. “Anyone?”
All were silent.
“Okay, how’s about a different problem: What’s the square-root of arriving to class on-time?”
Jaelyn shuddered and dropped her head atop her desk. Before long, however, she peeked at Jolie who shook her head at her.
“Alright,” Mrs. Mayor said. “How’s about I start calling names: first up—”
Jaelyn sighed. “Would it help if I had a doctor’s note?”
“Do you have a note?” Mrs. Mayor said and then rubbed her temple.
Jaelyn dropped her face into her hands. “No, ma’am.”
The class chucked, and Mrs. Mayor turned and faced the class.
“Settle down, everyone,” the teacher said, and everyone did.
“Jaelyn, see me after class.”
Jaelyn shook her head and then glanced at Jolie who peered at her.
Throughout class, Jaelyn gaped at a wall clock whose hands appeared frozen in time and wished they would move that she could get her meeting with Mrs. Mayor out of the way. Soon enough however, a bell rang, and the students packed up their belongings.
“Tonight,” Mrs. Mayor said. “Don’t forget to read chapter four. Tomorrow, we may have a quiz.”
The students grumbled and filed through the door, Jolie among them who glanced back at Jaelyn and held up crossed fingers. Jaelyn nodded, gathered her belongings, and podded to Mrs. Mayor’s desk where she was in conversation with another student.
“But Mrs. Mayor,” the student said. “Can you please assign me an extra credit assignment?”
The teacher sighed. “Krista,” she said. “You’ve a ninety-two percent.”
“Which is an A-,” Krista said.
“Which is excellent.”
“But come semester’s end, if I don’t bring home straight As, my father won’t let me work next summer, and I want a car, ma’am.”
“Krista, earning excellent grades, which you already do, should mean more to you than working for a car.”
“Try to tell that to another student who doesn’t want to drive their parent’s car to senior prom in two years…”
Jaelyn rolled her eyes and glanced at the wall clock. Soon however, Krista stamped out the classroom, and Jaelyn approached Mrs. Mayor’s desk.
“Ma’am, you wanted to see me?”
Her teacher nodded. “Yes, question for you: What’s going-on outside class that prevents your on-time arrival?”
“Nothing, ma’am.”
“Today’s the third day in a row. What are you forgetting to do? Set an alarm clock?”
Jaelyn peered at her, and Mrs. Mayor froze.
“Jaelyn, what is it? Please know you can speak to me about anything.” She leaned over her desk at her student. “Whatever’s said here-and-now won’t leave this classroom.”
Jaelyn casted her eyes to the floor and nodded. “That’s it.”
“What, Jaelyn? What’s it?”
“An alarm clock, ma’am—I don’t have one.”
Mrs. Mayor studied her, and Jaelyn peeked at her.
“So, you’ve arrived late to class because you don’t own an alarm clock?”
Jaelyn nodded.
“Well, you have a mobile phone, don’t you?” She watched the student open her mouth to speak. “And don’t deny it: Just this week in the cafeteria, I’d seen you texting. Likely Jolie who was likely in the same room somewhere.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’s saved her seat at our table while she’d hoped in line and bought me a sandwich.”
Mrs. Mayor gazed at her and sighed. “Before you turn-in for the evening, make certain you download an alarm clock mobile app and set it early enough so that you arrive to school on time.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
The teacher glanced at a wristwatch. “Now, hurry to second period—it starts in three minutes.”
Jaelyn forced a smile, dashed out the classroom, and into a stairwell. She climbed a staircase to a third-floor, meandered through talkative students, to her locker where Jolie stood, books pressed to her front, gazing at her. Jaelyn turned a combination dial, snatched the locker open, and seized two books she threw into a bookbag.
“So??” Jolie said.
“So, what?” She stood and saw her friend staring. “No, I didn’t tell her anything. She believes I don’t arrive on-time because I don’t have an alarm clock.”
“Because you don’t have an alarm clock? Is that what you’d told her?” Jolie all but toppled over. “Mrs. Mayor’s smart enough to know everyone uses their mobile phone as an alarm clock…”
Jaelyn glanced at her.
“Well, whatever,” Jolie said. “So long as you hadn’t told her you—”
“Okay,” Jaelyn said and glimpsed over her shoulder. “I get the point.”
“So, after school, we’ll meet at your place to sort things out, okay?”
“Sure, whatever, just don’t be late.”
Jolie chuckled. “Look who’s talking.”
Later, a final school bell rang, and Jaelyn dashed home. Inside, she threw her bookbag and coat on a sofa and darted room-to-room.
“Mom??” she said. “Mom, where are you?” She sprinted into a cellar, peered about. “Mom??” She then ran upstairs to a second- and third-floor and then called out but didn’t hear a response. “Where the heck did she go?” She grabbed her mobile phone, saw no new message or text, and seized handfuls of her own hair, pinching her eyes shut. She slipped to a wall beside a window. “Okay, Jaelyn think: If your mother was seventeen years old, where would she go?” A nearby mall, coffee shop, and record shop spang to mind, but before long, she heard a faint laugh and peered outside the window into a rear yard and saw her mother speaking over a wooden gate to Mrs. Simmons, their next-door neighbor. “Oh no.” She tore down the staircase, across a den, and through a patio door where she found Jolie on a deck, cringing.
“Jaelyn,” Jolie said. “I thought we weren’t going to let her outside.”
Jaelyn halted beside her. “What do you believe I’d done: opened the patio door and said, ‘Hey mom, there’s your future neighbor? Why don’t you go outside and say, ‘Hi’?’” She shook her head. “Just a heads-up: I just saw her out a third-floor window. And what about you: Where’ve you been?”
“I just got here, saw a front door was open, and rushed inside.”
“Good grief.” Jaelyn ambled down a deck staircase and crossed the yard.
“And to think scarlet could ever bring out my cheeks,” Mrs. Kraft said, and Mrs. Simmons cackled.
“Wow,” Mrs. Simmons said. “You and I are so much alike. You’re only high school age, but if you were years older, we’d be the best of friends.” She peered at Jaelyn. “Ah, and here’s Miss. Kraft now. How was school?”
Jaelyn forced a nod. “School was lovely. What are you both up to?”
“Just having a chat with…what was your name?”
“Gene.”
“Just chatting with Gene here…” Mrs. Simmons gazed at Mrs. Kraft. “Whose name’s the same as your mother’s, Jaelyn.”
“That’s because I am her mother…well, years from now, I will be.”
Jaelyn gasped and then gaped over her shoulder at Jolie whose eyes were as wide as all outdoors. She then turned toward Mrs. Simmons who stared, stock-still, over the fence. Before long however, she burst with laughter, wagging her finger at Mrs. Kraft.
“Boy, you’re a hoot, Gene,” Mrs. Simmons said and laughed further. “Moments ago, when I’d arrived home from work, I was in such a mood. But after kidding ‘round with you, all’s changed. Many thanks, Gene!”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Simmons! If anytime you need a pick-me-up, look no further!”
Mrs. Simmons waved, turned, and amber through a nearby rear door.
Jaelyn shook her head. “What just happened here?”
“I’ll tell you what had happened here,” Mrs. Kraft said. “I just saved your hind parts is what had happened here: You neighbor lady had peered through our piano window, saw me, and rushed away as though was preparing to call a national guard or something.”
Jaelyn glanced at Jolie. “Mrs. Simmons does pop-over after work at random to visit my mother.” She slapped her thigh. “I should’ve anticipated that. So, what did you do?”
“Well,” Mrs. Kraft said. “Seeing she’d been alarmed with someone inside she didn’t know, I rushed outside to greet her, vis-a-vis, feed her a story on how I’m a visiting relative and, thereby, calm her down. Sensational thinking on my part, ay? Yeah, I think it was, too…”
“Good job, mom, but the bottom line is that you need to stay out-of-sight until we figure out how to transport you back to thirty years ago which means no more talking to neighbors, hanging out near windows, or walking past glass patio doors. In fact, I’ve a mind to store you in the cellar.”
“Store me in the cellar?” Mrs. Kraft said, gasped. “Jolie, do you see how your friend treats her mother? Like some faded rug she’s uncertain what to do with…”