Wishes & Tears Read Free

keeping the room dim. Faith decided that she needed some sunlight and fresh air.
    Releasing her hold on the footboard, she gingerly stepped toward a window. After drawing open the heavy drapes, she sank into a nearby chair. Winded, she drew a deep breath and opened her eyes to the world outside her window. She gasped at the scene below. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.
    The scene outside was like some Hollywood movie set. She reached out and pushed up the window to open it, wanting to get a better view. She breathed in the rush of fresh, cherry-blossom-scented air. In disbelief of the scene outside, she leaned over and stuck out her head. Horses’ hooves clattered as they pulled carriages and wagons.
    A cable car clanged as it made its ascent while an Oldsmobile motorcar tooted its horn as it sputtered by. Women in shirtwaist blouses and ankle-length skirts lifted their hems crossing the street while men attired in three-button suits with high-collared shirts, and bowler hats scurried about with canes and valises. Iron fences protecting flower gardens, blossoming trees, and grassy yards fronted pristine Victorian homes and row houses. Faith recognized some of the buildings but it was as if they had been stripped of their grime and age. From the blooming rhododendrons and daffodils she knew that it was still spring, but of the year she wasn’t certain.
    The door to her bedroom opened and Bridget walked in. She stepped back in startled surprise when she noticed Faith seated at the open window. Placing her hands on her broad hips, she seemed ready to scold as she approached.
    “Too fine a day to be indoors, isn’t it, with the sun shining and all those flowers blooming?” Bridget asked. “Made you chance fate and get out of bed, didn’t it?”
    “I just wanted some light and fresh air but I think I got more than I bargained for.”
    “The walk wore you out, didn’t it? Just because you’re feeling better doesn’t mean you’re cured.”
    Faith turned to face the maid and asked in a serious tone, “What’s the date today?”
    “April 8.”
    “What year?”
    Bridget tilted her head. “The year? 1906.”
    “1906?” Faith swallowed hard.
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Could you get me a newspaper?”
    “Of course, ma’am.” Bridget curtsied, pivoted and rushed out of the room.
    She returned a few minutes later holding the Chronicle. She handed the newspaper to Faith who snatched it from her.
    “Quite a pity what happened in Italy with the volcano erupting and all. So many poor souls killed,” Bridget commented with a sigh.
    Faith gaped at the headline that announced, in bold letters, the tragic eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The news jolted her into the realization that this episode wasn’t a sick joke. Somehow, she had transcended the bounds of time and had ended up back in another era. How?
    She tried to act composed when the unsettling fear of being trapped back in time overcame her. She felt like an alien who had just landed on another planet, an outcast. This wasn’t her world.
    She was a woman who had thrived on material possessions and on the luxuries of modern convenience. How could she cope in a turn-of-the-century lifestyle? What about her family and her friends? None of them were even born yet! What about her job? She was a teacher but her tools were the calculator and computer. If it was indeed 1906 she would be alone, a stranger. 1906.
    Suddenly, she remembered the earthquake. San Francisco was devastated by a major earthquake and fire in 1906. Wasn’t it on April 18? What was the date? April 8.
    Overwhelmed over things that were out of her control, Faith began to panic. Beads of sweat formed and began to roll down her forehead. Her limbs trembled. As her heart quickened its beat, she gasped for breath. She curled up in the chair, bringing her legs up against her chest, seeking protection, and grasped them with her arms in a reassuring hug.
    Bridget ran toward her. Faith wouldn’t move but softly