CHAPTER THRITY FOUR

Stopping the fire had Mitchell awake most of the night; principally because he knew he couldn’t. It had happened two weeks ago and at the time he was comatose in a hospital bed; waking four days after the event. He couldn’t stop the fire on the day because he couldn’t recall a memory point to return to. Staring at the ceiling, his leg significantly less painful than yesterday, he considered the alternatives.

Returning to when the safety officer made his visit to the library was an option. Mitch by chance saw the event from the café and could either stop the man or remind him to flick on the master switch before leaving. He could do that. But, by returning to that point he would also remove his other self from Sarah waiting back at his house. He surely would be missed. She would never believe it took ninety-nine minutes to fetch a coffee.

“But that never happened,” he said out loud, “I’ve stopped that occurring after changing Christina’s accident.” The whole process, even the tone in his voice complicated what was, and wasn’t real. What timeline am I travelling? What timeline is everyone else on?

Mitch hypothesised what affect any change to an already altered event, or one even wiped from existence would have on future continuums? A jumbled series of parallel lines projected in his mind. They quickly became incomprehensible; deciphering truth from fiction almost paradoxical. They remained for another hour, his ten week absence complicating things further. As did Alberts. Deferring to his default position Mitch concluded the safest option was choosing a different memory point and checking the fire alarm himself hopefully giving Albert and Christina enough time to escape. It wasn’t a certainty nor fool proof, but all he had.

If the work crew were correct and they maintained their projected installation pace then Mitch had to make his first trip immediately. Being a Saturday the paths would be littered with walkers and joggers but he didn’t care. The luxury of choice had long passed.

He hadn’t kept much of a diary over the past few years, he had little need to, but most appointments and important matters had been recorded onto his phones calendar. Old habits still dying hard. A challenging aspect of the developed friendship between Mitch and Sarah was maintaining a respectable distance, yet not ignoring her entirely. It was a fine line to tread and one not always adhered to. Mitch had had another dinner date with Sarah, and while extremely enjoyable, he admittedly regretted allowing the night to finish in the small hours back at his house. To deal with those awkward yet necessary meetings, Mitchell found coffee an innocent excuse. The longer he spaced the get togethers apart, the less complicated matters would be. Given the amount of travel he was doing, and the difficulty trying to remember dates and events, he recorded them all in his phone to remember their last catch up.

Mitch scrolled through the November entries finding a coffee date with Sarah a few days after the alarm system was shut down. He chose a couple of hours before that knowing he was alone and would not be seen disappearing. He recalled writing an email to Thi Mai, one of their first, and selected that as his memory point.

At the plate Mitch stepped onto its surface and prepared by putting weight on his walking stick. Turning around, he gingerly stepped onto the concrete path. It took a few steps but the constant throbbing in his leg disappeared and pain didn’t shoot through his shin when he walked. He’d previously wondered if travelling back to before his accident would do that, as it might with Alberts eyesight. Now he knew.

There were little changes having only travelled back four months, but with his leg painless and moving freely Mitch knew things were different. After only a few weeks his injury seemed the norm and he’d very quickly accepted it. It felt strange now with freedom returning and he bound along the pathway relishing the movement. Enjoying the walk Mitch used the time preparing how to talk his way into the library back office. Hoping Ms Albright wouldn’t be there, in the end he decided just to see what happens and play it by ear.

Seeing the library restored seemed surreal for Mitchell. Less than twenty-four hours before it was a demolished, blackened ruin. Today, in the clear and sunny skies, the building glistened and looked vastly different. The doors opened on approach and he fronted the unattended counter. Hastily spying into the offices, he immediately spotted the alarm system mounted on a wall about two metres into the hallway. So close, he almost jumped behind the counter to make the move then. Instead, Mitch did the right thing and tried to find Lucinda.

Checking the right wing first finding only a few people quietly researching privately in the study nooks, their heads down and noses buried heavily in books, he quickly assumed they would not be a problem. Moving across the central foyer, checking the offices again as he passed, Mitch stuck his head into the left wing of the library. Much larger with more patrons, the atmosphere seemed relaxed with most customers browsing the shelfs or seated leafing though their selected books.

School children gathered in one corner appeared to be settled working on a joint assignment but any of them could pose a problem. Mitchell reasoned if one needed assistance, they would go to the counter drawing attention to the very place he wanted privacy. He checked the entire room but couldn’t find Lucinda Albright anywhere. Perhaps she was in the office after all. He grabbed a book randomly from the nearest shelf and headed toward the foyer. At the counter Mitch peered through a small window into the librarian’s office but still couldn’t see her. He called out to check Lucinda wasn’t hiding in the recesses of the support offices.

“Hellooo…is anyone there?”

No reply. No sounds from behind the counter.

Mitch looked left and right scanning the foyer, and did what he should have done when he first arrived. He ran around the counter to whip into the small corridor between the library offices and storeroom. As informed, the alarm control panel mounted on the inside of the hallway comprised a multitude of dials, switches and meters. With his time spent in the building industry Mitch had seen plenty of them before but this system was much older. The master switch though stood out very clearly. It was a toggle switch larger than the others, powder coated red and encased in a flip top clear acrylic box and Mitchell could see it was definitely in the off position. To an untrained eye it would have gone unnoticed for months – which it had.

All he had to do was raise the box and flip the switch. It was that simple but a two handed task requiring lifting the cover with one hand and flipping the switch with the other. Holding his walking stick and borrowed book, Mitch needed to put one of them down. Turning to place the book on a nearby table he was startled by someone standing right in front of him. It was Lucinda Albright.

“Can I help you sir?” the librarian challenged. Mitch had to think quickly.

“Oh yes, I was hoping to borrow this book but couldn’t seem to find anyone to help me,” he answered convincingly.

“Of course, but you really cant be back here. If you come out front I can help you.”

Mitch apologised agreeing to leave but deliberately dropped his walking cane. As anticipated, Lucinda instinctively bent down to pick it up for him. With the librarian crouched and her head turned in the opposite direction Mitchell quickly lifted the Perspex safety box and flicked the fire alarm master control into the on position.

“Thank you so much. I’ve not go the hang of that thing yet,” he said as Lucinda handed the cane back.

“Do you have a library card sir?” she asked reverting to her homogenised demeanour.

Mitch didn’t and begrudgingly went through the process of registering himself on the library database. A driver’s licence and local address was only required.

“So, Mr Atherton, the loan period is three weeks so we trust you will return,” Ms Albright looked down for the title of the book, “Advanced Macramé by December 8th.”

Rather than find an excuse, he smiled awkwardly and assured Lucinda the book would be returned well before the due date. He politely thanked her and turned to leave the library remembering to limp as he did. Only when clear of the foyer, and certainly from the librarian’s prying eye did Mitch set down the book and cane behind a small shrubbery to begin looking for the mains water inlet pipe. He’d been told it was on the western side of the library, near the front entrance and close to the other service amenities. And sure enough, it was.

Still broad daylight, Mitch nimbly hopped over the low brick fence dividing the water valves from the rest of the garden. He checked the valves by turning the wheels clockwise to the open position ensuring water was accessible to all parts of the building. The sprinkler system was always a long shot. With a four-month window it would be impossible to pinpoint if, and when, the valves were actually shut off. No matter he thought, the alarm was now definitely active. Perhaps that would give Albert and Christina ample warning to leave the library. Remembering his cane and newly acquired book on macramé, he dawdled back to the plate waiting for the purple lights to take him home. His limp regrettably returned as did the pain the moment he landed on the metal surface. Mitch retraced the steps taken just an hour and a half before to the library. It seemed miraculous how his leg could be excruciatingly painful one moment, then instantly painless the next. Only to then resume its painful state once more. Mitch identified with Albert’s enthusiasm of his eyesight returning. What an impact that must have.

Coming from the shopping centre to the courtyard in front of the library, Mitch saw the tips of the elm tree’s wide branches were brown and the notable smell of burnt wood remained. Without seeing the library he knew the fire hadn’t been averted. Suspecting as much, the test of any success would come with a simple phone call. He dialled Albert’s number and sat on a bench by the large elm to rest his leg.

Damn it. The phone didn’t ring and went straight to the pre-recorded message. That wasn’t going to stop him; he couldn’t let that stop him. Mitch headed back to the plate for another attempt. But only after a short diversion.

Walking through the shopping centre he smelt what he craved. Coffee to keep him going and help dull the pain. Sarah was behind the counter and naturally didn’t recognise him. Looking sad, flowers adorned the tables like yesterday.

Clearly Christina hadn’t survived either.

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The coffee served its dual purpose of invigorating Mitch and relaxing his leg as he sat in the café planning his next move. The Martinelli’s went about their business despondently bolstering Mitchell’s determination to save their daughter. He scrolled through his calendar notes looking for another memory point. With nothing suitable he flicked through the pages in his little notebook and happened upon some points taken while selecting the best running route to Christina’s school. As always, there was a short-hand date in the top right corner of the page and Mitchell was pleased to see it fell within the required time line. Better still, he was alone all afternoon and no one would miss him.

The practice of time travel had a steep learning curve and on his next trip Mitchell prepared for his leg to be fully healed. Before long he was back in early December and for the third time that morning walking to the library.

On this occassion he went straight to the water pipes checking if they’d been changed. Turning each valve wheel clockwise, the smaller wheel he suspected controlled water to the library sprinkler system was in fact closed and he reefed it to the right with both hands. Between his two visits, a gap of eighteen days, someone had turned off the water supply to the sprinkler system. Now back on, hopefully it would subdue the fire early enough. Mitch surmised he didn’t need to check the master switch again; that had already been done and things couldn’t have changed. But he wanted to check just in case.

In the foyer Lucinda was behind the counter tending to a customer and Mitch waited patiently endeavouring to steal a glimpse of the control panel in the hallway. That proved difficult from his angle and he needed to get into the office to be certain. Still with the copy of Advanced Macramé, the librarian asked if she could help him.

“Hi. I would like to return this book,” he said sheepishly. “But also need to ask a favour if I could.”

Lucinda’s demeanour was completely different to when Mitch first met her and soft in her reply.

“I’ll try my best.”

“There is a pattern on page sixty-eight my mother really liked but unfortunately couldn’t get a copy of.” During his brief wait at the counter Mitchell flicked through the pages of the book to find a diagram substantiating his request.

“Is there any chance you could make a quick photocopy for me?” he asked in his most convincingly pathetic manner.

“Well, it probably goes against any number of copyright infringements, but I won’t tell if you don’t,” Lucinda answered defiantly. She took the tome and turned to the spare office where the photocopier was kept. Mitch followed uninvited to which Lucinda didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

“I see your leg’s better,” she said to Mitchell who bemusingly took a few moments to realise his error.

“Yes. It was really only a short-term thing the doctors suggested would help my leg heel.” When Mitch met Lucinda three weeks ago, he’d used the cane as a diversion to reset the alarm. Having left it foolishly in the garden by the water-mains, Lucinda had obviously remembered him. Passing through the hallway he quickly scanned the alarm controls noticing the large master switch remained in the on position. Perfect.

As the copy machine warmed up and Ms Albright inverted the book onto the glass screen, Mitch took the opportunity to eliminate another factor leading to the fire.

“I don’t mean to pry, but those cleaning solutions shouldn’t really be stacked there.”

Mitchell was referring to the pile of chemicals he knew were instrumental in the fire developing so quickly.

“In our old office there was a special cabinet we had to store chemicals in and were always reprimanded when we didn’t. It’s something to do with safety or something. Anyway, just saying.” He sounded foolish but made his point. Lucinda suggested she’d relocate the offending substances as soon as she could. Serving its purpose usefully, the book was checked back into the database and Mitch left the library for what he hoped would be the last time. Grabbing his cane from the garden he returned to the park bench to wait out the remainder of the trip taking all respite knowing he’d be making the trek once again to the library courtyard.

Purple light returned Mitch to 2013 who on entering the courtyard saw the old elm branches green and full of life. The library remained charred but its shell was intact. The interior guttered and blackened. The water supply, the alarm correctly functioning and the removal of the flammable chemicals must have collectively reduced the intensity of the fire.

Mitchell dialled Alberts number.

“Hello?”

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Albert was anxious to learn why Mitch hadn’t answered his messages. It had been months and they had a lot to catch up on.

“Why do you have a cane with you Mitchell?” he asked in his eerily observant fashion.

“That’s the reason I didn’t call you back.” Mitchell sat Albert down and explained his trip on Christmas day. While not remembering his time in hospital, it did account for his absence.

“And did you stop the car Mitchell?”

“Yep. I sure did. Christina is fit and healthy, and her family back together happier than ever,” he replied with pride.

“And now you bear the scars of her accident with a permanent limp.”

Mitch considered the statement. It was true enough but held no regret. Christina was far more important and was glad to have made a difference.

“We all make sacrifices Mitchell for what we think is right. I’m very proud of what you did. Happier though you’re OK and back in the land of the living.” The comment resonated more than Albert would ever know.

“We have a bigger problem than my leg though Albert. And little time to discuss the perils.” Albert sat stony-faced judging things were serious.

“What’s happened Mitchell. Why do you sound so worried?”

Mitch told of the telephone cabling crew on the opposite side of the river months before, and then talking with them a few days ago. The fibre optic cabling was moving through the suburb quickly and it wouldn’t take long for the crew to complete the loop around the shopping centre.

“Do you remember our chat after Kym left for Vietnam? Well, I decided on Christmas Eve after helping Christina we would make a final play to carry out your wishes.”

Albert remembered the conversation well, had in fact waited patiently for Mitch to decide when they would try. It was the reason he repeatedly tried contacting him after Christmas.

“Albert, the plate’s been discovered. Well it will be in a few days so if we want to destroy the coil, we need to act quickly.”

With a childlike reverence Albert shifted toward the edge of his chair endeavouring to get closer to Mitch.

“When do you suggest Mitchell?”

“Tomorrow…we have no other choice.”

Albert seemed excited but very nervous. He’d longed of this for forty-four years and all of a sudden it might just be a possibility. He removed his glasses to rub his eyes in what must have been subconscious preparation.

“Nothing ventured nothing gained,” mumbled from his lips and his normal gusto quickly returned. “OK. Let’s do it Mitch.”

“Did you know there was a fire in the old library Mitchell?” Albert asked out of nowhere. Mitch was hesitant in response and Albert spoke of the ordeal before he could answer.

“When you suddenly fell out of contact I continued my plans and began booking an airline ticket and opening a bank account in Ho Chi Min. I’d been at the library organising my trip and could smell smoke wafting through the library. Being all too familiar with that smell during the war, I knew it wasn’t good. Removing my headphones, I heard the fire alarm ringing before being abruptly sprayed with water.”

Albert paused obviously connecting the events with those on HMAS Hobart.

“I understood what was happening but in the cluttered library had difficulty finding an exit. I was very quickly disoriented. I’ve been under attack before and trained not to panic, but without my navy buddies to help and in complete darkness, the fire was much more frightening. Stumbling through the thickening smoke I was unexpectantly helped by a young girl to safety. With her guiding the way we escaped to the front courtyard. I heard sirens, and not long after the chaotic shouts of first responders frantically leading everyone from the flames. The heat was intense. The noise even louder. And I knew we had only just made it out in time.”

Mitchell was pleased to learn the alarm and sprinklers had worked but sadly distressed by his friend’s version of events.

“I don’t know the name of the girl who helped me. She’d been whisked away before I could find out. But Mitchell, I imagine you know who she was. I also suspect it was your intervention ensuring she was capable of helping me.”

The story was harrowing enough so Mitch chose not to disclose more of what actually happened. What was the point? Albert’s life had been spared and knowing the truth might be more detrimental. Mitchell’s silence told Albert the truth.

“Thank you Mitchell,” Albert said suspecting the very worst. “Once again you have done something extraordinary for me.”

“Don’t mention it Albert. You would have done the same for me.”

“Yes, I would Mitchell. You know that. But you’ve again demonstrated the person you truly are. Notwithstanding anything that’s happened over the past few months, I am honoured to have you as a friend. And regardless of what happens tomorrow, you will remain that to me always.”

Mitch was embarrassed. He was always embarrassed by praise and humbled by such niceties. He didn’t know why. Perhaps becoming self-sufficient at an early age taught him to rely only on himself. Or maybe he couldn’t see the good in himself and balked when others pointed that out?

It had been a strange few months and the plate had taught Mitch a lot about himself. Ethel, Albert, Christina, even Sarah’s circumstances were worse than his own, and in some way he’d changed them all. Mitch hadn’t set out to do that though. It happened organically, naturally. He’d never been selfish but had shut himself off to others. Putting their interests ahead of his own demonstrated the good within and it felt wonderful. Alberts words, like Ethel’s before, struck a chord of self-worth in Mitchell.

“Do you remember our three-day plan and the safety gaps in case it didn’t work?” Albert nodded he did, “well, I’m not sure we have that luxury anymore.”

They discussed an alternative plan before Mitch left Albert alone. He needed a memory point for later in the afternoon, one he was alone for and wouldn’t be missed, but more so one that wouldn’t conflict with Mitchell’s time line.

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