Nanowrimo 2015-11-21

That next day before our planned "mission", my dad went to his job, my mom took the day off and spent quite a bit of time painting, and I spent a lot of time thinking.  Jason must have noticed I was a little lost in thought and sat down next to me.  "Tell me what you're thinking," he said softly as he reached for my hand.

I gave him my hand, looked up at him, and smiled.  "I'm thinking," I said, "that this plan we have is not a very good one."

"It does depend a lot on Maria not being a total monster," Jason admitted.

"Which might not be a safe assumption," I said.

"Well, she didn't actually kill me," he pointed out.

"No, she left that up to me," I said bitterly.

"That's part of what we're counting on," he said.

I sighed.  "Yes, I know.  If all goes well, she may still not even know you're alive."  I looked over at him, "But what if all doesn't go well?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"We need a back-up plan," I told him.

He laughed a little.  "This is already a back-up plan," he pointed out.  "We're basically carrying out our fail safe plan from last time but on purpose now."

"Well then we need a Plan C," I said.

"Okay," Jason agreed.  "And what to you propose?"

I tilted my head slightly as I looked at him, "How many people do you think your parents know?"

He laughed a bit more at that.  "You know as well as I do that I don't really know my parents all that well, but I'd imagine quite a few.  Why?  What are you thinking?"

I told him and he smiled.  "I'd say that's a pretty good idea," he said.  "I'm a bit embarrassed we didn't think of something like that sooner.  It's the kind of thing we even could have done back in my time, or rather in the time Maria made me think I was from."

"So you think it will work?" I said.

"I don't know," he said, "but in my time, I think it would have blown up."  Then he quickly added, "In a good way."

I smiled.  "Well then let's see what we can do, and hope it doesn't come to activating."

"I'm not going to lie," Jason said, "at this point, I kind-of hope it does."

"As long as we're still alive when it happens."

Jason nodded.  "Yes, as long as we're still alive."


When my dad got home from work, I asked him also how many people he thought he and mom knew, that they could contact if necessary.  "A lot," he said with a chuckle.  "Especially your mom with all the different things she's done over the years.  I'd say over a thousand."  Then he eyed me suspiciously.  "What are you up to, Anna?" he asked.

"Well, I hope you never get to know," I said, "but we need a fail-safe just in case things go wrong."

He nodded.  "I think I see what you're up to," he said, "and you're right, I'd much rather you be safe, but I'll help in whatever way I can."

"Good," I said, and proceeded to work on compiling lists and getting things set up for our Plan C.


We were all done with our basic prep and my dad had ordered dinner by the time my mom came into the kitchen holding a canvas that was turned so the painting was facing towards her.  She looked remarkably sad.  "It isn't the most skilled thing I've ever painted," she said.  "I wish it could be better.  But it's probably the one I'll cherish the most."  And she spun the canvas around to reveal the portrait she had done of me and Jason.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that it took my breath away.  It was Jason who spoke.  "Mrs. Larue," he said, "I'm not that familiar with your work, at least I don't remember being familiar with it, but if that's not the greatest thing you've ever painted, then I don't know if my mind could handle seeing the greatest thing."

Though it was a "simple" portrait, my heart echoed Jason's sentiment  I had seen many of my mother's paintings, perhaps all of the paintings she hadn't chosen to hide away, and this one was right up there near the top.  I felt a bit selfish thinking that of a painting that had me as part of its subject matter, but I can tell you that the art that went into that painting had nothing to do with me.  The background was perfect and the expressions she had captured on our faces, well, I couldn't imagine I was a complex enough person to really have such a perfectly bittersweet look on my face.

"I think it's perfect, Mom," I said

"You're perfect!" my mom burst out, "My perfect beautiful baby girl!  And I don't want to lose you."

"Mom, don't cry.  Please.  You'll get the painting wet."

At that, my mom tossed the painting aside, thankfully not damaging it, and rushed over to embrace me.  "I just can't believe we're losing you.  It's going to be just like when Jason's family lost him."

"I'm coming back, Mom, I promise," I said.

She pulled back from me, "And what if you're not?"

My mom.  I couldn't hide much from her.  I'm sure she knew that I wasn't as confident as I was pretending to be.  "Then I want you to share that painting," I nodded my head towards the painting that had landed leaning against a cabinet.  "With everyone you know and tell them the full story that I've told you."

My mother looked a bit concerned.  "Are you sure, sweetie?" she asked.

I smiled and nodded.  "Yes, I'm sure," I said.  "All this time travel stuff has been a secret for too long.  If worse comes to worse, then I want to world to know the truth.  And my greatest hope is that I'll be the one who tells them."