Echoes of Tomorrow Read Free Page A

life, his head spun and the room swirled around him.
    There on the table next to the box sat an open appointment  book.  At the very top in bold, black letters was printed:  March 19, 1994.
    The woman, unprepared for his sudden stop, collided into him.  She immediately jumped back up two steps and aimed the canister at Reed's face.  Her posture relaxed when he failed to move.
    "Why does this book say March 19, 1994?" he asked in a barely audible voice.
    Only a heartbeat of silence elapsed before she answered.
    "Because, Mr. Copperfield, I haven't had a chance this morning to change the page to the twentieth."
    Reed turned his head toward her but his gaze remained on the calendar.  In a shaky voice, he asked, "Can you prove that it is 1994?"
     
    For some reason, a gut feeling maybe, Elise believed this man truly needed proof.  She was reasonably sure she wasn't dreaming all of this, but she had no other explanation for this morning's strange occurrences.
    She couldn't deny what shed seen.  This man, this gorgeous man with the double-take face, had materialized on her bed like an eerie vapor while she'd struggled to button this ridiculous dress.  At first she’d thought it was a trick of the morning light.  The lumpy quilt that covered him looked like part of her unmade bed.  But the translucent vapor solidified, and the lump rolled over and stretched.  No, there had to be a logical explanation.  She'd seen too many magic shows not to know the most astounding illusion was a fairly simple trick.  But when he'd questioned the date, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.  Her mind snapped back to the present situation.
    "Proof? Proof. Yeah, sure.  Proof.  Let's see..." Elise's mind scanned possibilities.  How much more proof do you need than a calender?  She snapped her fingers when an idea popped into her head.  She darted the few feet to the front door, keeping the tear gas on him at all times, and scooped up a huge, rolled newspaper from the porch.  With a triumphant smile she flicked the paper open.  There, in bold print above the headlines detailing the latest presidential problems, was printed:  Sunday, March 20, 1994 .
    While Reed absorbed this piece of evidence, Elise yanked out the drawer in the table beside them.  She rummaged through it for a second, then fished out several coins.
    "Let's see, 1965, ‘81, ‘77," she read aloud as she scanned the spare change she always threw in the drawer.  "Wait.  Wait.  Here's a penny minted in 1993.  Is that good enough?  You know we're barely three months into `94, and this money's been here a while.  If you need more proof I can get my billfold and see if I have..." 
    Her last word trailed off, and she snapped her mouth shut.  This was insane.  It was bad enough trying to prove what year it was.  What was she doing, offering to get her billfold for a total stranger?  One who’d dropped into her home uninvited and unexplained.
    Reed just stared at her while long, silent seconds ticked by.  His eyes never left hers when he reached into a pocket of his slacks and pulled something out of it.
    He offered his hand to Elise, and when she opened her palm he laid the object in it.  His fingers were icy against her skin, but the warmth of his body lingered on the metal in her hand. 
    She tore her eyes from his.  A twenty dollar gold piece shone up at her from the center of her palm. 
    Elise's father had been an amateur coin collector.  Without having to examine the coin much closer, she knew it had to have been minted in the late 1830's.
    When she looked into Reed's face, her confusion and fear were mirrored in his eyes.  But when she allowed a certain degree of skepticism to taint her features, his sky blue eyes took on a sort of helpless look.   He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper.
    She hesitated before taking the folded scrap of paper and opening it.  When she read the words her skin crawled and