Installment 1:

Lindsey’s Revelation

By: Stacy L.

PART I

It had been a lousy day, one more to add to the past few weeks of lousy days. She was angry, sad, depressed and tired. She was so tired and exhausted, so disheartened. She should've been in the car that day. She should've been the one to die not Michael, not her beloved husband Michael. She remembered that day like it was yesterday she’d had to work late at her firm, for a lawyer's work was never done, never. Her husband had called to say that he'd pick her up for supper, and she had readily agree waiting excitedly, finding it suddenly difficult to focus on her work knowing that her beloved husband would arrive soon. She had watched the clock: 7pm, 7:15pm...then 7:45pm...she began to get a little bit worried. It was unlike her husband to be late for anything but that night he was...he never showed up. Instead, policemen showed up telling her that they had some bad news for her and she knew, somehow she just knew, that Michael was gone: gone in a second, gone forever, just like that killed by a drunk driver. The police told her that he had died instantly; they told her it was a hit and run. The man had later been apprehended. They told her that the driver had been drunk, but she heard nothing and felt nothing. It was as if a light went out inside her, as if her heart had turned to stone and broke in half never to be whole again.

She shook now as she remembered that horrible night. She had only stayed in their home, the house she had shared with Michael, for a few days. Then she had moved out and sold the place. She just couldn't live there anymore. There were just too many memories. She put her furniture and other belongings into storage, packed two suitcases and found herself walking aimlessly down the busy Chicago sidewalks. People walked by her all in a rush always in a hurry. Always having places to go, things to do, always trying to beat time. She was just another face in the crowd, one lonely woman in a sea full of people.

She was tall and thin. She had an athletic body, always had. Her eyes were a clear blue turning almost hazel depending on the play of shadow and light. Her hair was blonde, almost brown. It was long and flowing down to the middle of her back. She was attractive, some would say that she was beautiful but Lindsey had never paid much mind to her looks. She was always busy, always working and never worried about impressing anyone. She went for the business look; she never cared much for the fashion model look. She was surprisingly strong for her stature. She looked frailer than she actually was. She was always sharp-minded and could think quickly on her feet. Right now all she could seem to think of, to focus on, was the anger and despair she felt at losing her husband.

She had no idea how long or far she walked when someone suddenly stopped her saying, "Good evening ma'me. Are you all right?"

"Um yes...yes I'm fine. Thank you."

"Going somewhere?"

"Oh no, no. Not really."

"Well, if you needed a place to stay for the night there's a room here. It's open and you can stay as long as you like, just remember to pay for your room."

"No, I..."

"It’s a good deal ma’me, a nice room and if you don't mind me saying it's a might bit cold out here. After all, Chicago is the windy city ma'me."

As if to confirm the man's observation the wind kicked up setting her flesh alive with goose bumps. She did feel a bit chilled. She glanced at her watch surprised to see that it was nearly midnight. Where had the time gone?

She found herself looking up at the man smiling shyly and saying, "Well, it is kind of late and I do need some sleep. Perhaps this is exactly what I need."

"I think you'll find the room rather comfortable Miss...?"

"Romick, Lindsey Romick."

"Nice to meet you."

"And you are?"

"Just call me Boswell...everybody does. Jeremiah Boswell."

"Pleasure to meet you Mister Boswell..."

She extended her hand in a show of courtesy and he accepted it shaking her hand firmly he replied, "...Just Boswell... Here let me show you to your room."

Lindsey broke the handshake first then Boswell turned indicating that she should follow. Lindsey followed the man. He was nice and about middle aged. He seemed to be very helpful and very friendly.

As soon as she entered the hotel she felt calm...at peace. She couldn't remember a time since the death of her husband when she had felt so...sedate. She tried to remember the name of the hotel then saw it emblazoned in gold on the front desk: BLACKSTONE HOTEL. She had a feeling she'd like it here.

She followed Boswell upstairs as he led her to a room on the top floor. He opened the door to admit her. She entered and looked around. It seemed cozy, warm, even comforting in an odd sort of way. She questioned, "Did a man live here before?"

Immediately after she had let the question slip she had wanted to call it back. Now whatever possessed her to ask such a stupid question?

Boswell glanced at her with a polite smile on his lips, "A man you ask?"

"Yes. You said the room was open, and that I could stay as long as I choose… Did the last tenant...live here?"

She mentally groaned. Now why on earth did she ask that question? Did the last tenant live here? What a dumb question! Now who would ever take up residence in a hotel room? Still, regardless of how goofy the question sounded, she found herself waiting for an answer. Her curiosity was peaked.

Boswell replied, "We haven't had anyone live here in quite a few years. We had to do some repairs to the room."

"Oh repairs? Why?"

"Fire broke out here. Funny thing was that it was contained to this room. It never spread anywhere else. The fire remained only in this room. After that the room was kept closed for repainting and fixing. We opened it up again a few years back. We left the room as it had looked before the fire. Come to think of it the tenant who had lived here until the fire broke out was the last fellow who actually lived here. Young fellow, about thirty-two or so."

"Were you here when he...?"

"Oh heavens no. I was just a young lad then."

"So how do you know...?"

"My grandfather used to work here. He was a real history buff. He loved to tell stories. Him and the young man were friends for a time. He said that the man was always on the go, coming and going all the time, always in a rush. He moved out shortly after the fire...became a local bar owner I believe."

"Oh, how interesting."

"Well, enough about that I'll let you be."

"Thank you."

"Sure, anytime."

Lindsey closed the door, turned and eyed up the room. She liked it. It was small but comfortable. It even had a bar and a refrigerator sitting in a small kitchen. She liked it...a lot. She felt very welcome here for some strange reason. The room seemed to almost call out to her to tell her that this was where she belonged. It was so strange. She didn't want to spend all of her time dwelling on that thought, so she spent time looking around. She eventually showered then lay down. She looked at the alarm clock sitting on a nightstand to the left of the bed: 1 am. She was so tired that she instantly fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * * *

Lindsey awoke with a start to a feminine voice announcing: "Good morning Chicago. It's another beautiful day here in the windy city..."

She groaned mentally thinking, 'it's the alarm'. She didn't remember even setting it though. She figured she had been so tired the previous evening that she had just forgotten. She looked at it: 6:30 am. Who in God's name got up at 6:30 in the morning? She must've been crazy to set the alarm so early, on a Saturday morning no less. She reached over clicking it off then started drifting asleep again when a loud meow pierced the quiet morning followed by a loud thunk. What on earth was that? She groaned and forced herself to get up. She made her way sleepily to the door grumbling to herself nearly the entire way. She opened the door prepared to chew someone out royally for daring to disturb her rest, but no one was there. Then she heard the meow again and looked down...

"Well hi there little fella'. How'd you get up here? Do you know cats aren't allowed in hotel rooms? They call animal control when strays wander in."

The cat looked at her as if assessing her then jumped to its feet and wandered into the room like he owned the place. Lindsey said, "Hey cat, who said you could come in here? Oh well I guess you can stay."

She saw a paper on the floor, so she picked it up. The hotel must hand out newspapers to each person. She'd have to look at it later...if she had time. She glanced briefly at the heading: "CAR ACCIDENT JAMS UP LOCAL TRAFFIC FOR HOURS." She saw a picture of the accident: a red Corvette with its hood smashed into a jeep. She put the paper down. Great another car accident that was the last thing she needed to be thinking of. She then started to make herself breakfast. She looked down to see where the intrusive feline was at and saw the cat looking up at her almost expectantly. She sighed then said while looking down at the cat, "So I suppose you want me to feed you now?"

"Rowl" was the cat's only response, that and a small swipe of its tongue across its mouth.

"Go figure."

She opened her refrigerator and pulled out some milk pouring some into a bowl that she sat by her feet. The cat dipped its head and began lapping hungrily at the milk. Lindsey said while still looking at the cat's bowed down head, "Hey cat, just don't expect this every day. Remember you're the visitor not me."

"Rowl" the cat replied as if saying it was the other way around. She sighed again then began eating her breakfast. She might as well glance at the paper seeing it wound up at her doorstep. Hey it was free, so she'd read it. Anything free was good in her book.

She pulled it to her seeing the black bold-typed letters: CHICAGO SUN TIMES. She began reading the articles. The car accident had happened around 11am, no one had been hurt. Thank heavens for that. People drove so reckless in the city these days. She didn't remember traffic being jammed up yesterday like the paper said but, of course, that was about the time she had left work early...sick. She didn’t pay too much attention to anything lately.

She continued on to another article. She saw a young boy smiling while holding up a typed paper. The caption read "LOCAL YOUTH WINS ESSAY CONTEST." Good for him. She had wanted kids and so had Michael, but the accident had ended that dream. God, how she missed him... She shook her head to clear it. She would not think of that terrible day again. She planned on enjoying her weekend.

She carelessly laid the paper back down. It was depressing her and she didn't need to be depressed right now so she got up. Maybe she should take a walk...that could be exactly what she needed. Walks were becoming more and more common for her. They kept her mind busy and clear and aided her in combating the loneliness she often felt. They were actually almost therapeutic.

Without another thought she headed downstairs and outside. It was raining. Funny, the paper said that it would be a beautiful day out, no mention of rain. She headed back upstairs to retrieve her umbrella. She entered the room and walked over to the wall where she had left it leaning. She picked it up when suddenly the cat left out a high-pitched meow. She jolted startled out of her reverie. She had forgotten about that cat. She glanced up seeing the cat sitting on the counter, on top of the newspaper.

"Hey cat, get off the counter would you?"

Another insistent meow answered her. She regarded the cat again. Then said, "Look I need a walk, and I'm taking one. You need to get off my counter."

She turned around now facing the door...her counter? Since when did she stake claim on a counter in a hotel room? Some how it fit, it just sounded right so she shrugged it off. She took a step towards the door intent on getting out of there and on her walk as soon as possible. She stopped when she felt the cat's eyes on her, almost as if they were boring into her back. She suddenly got a strange tingly feeling at the back of her neck. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rising on end. That cat...she could feel it looking at her almost as if it wanted something from her, expected something from her. She felt unnerved so she turned around, more irritated now than anything that a stupid cat would spook her. The cat looked at her waiting, waiting for something. Before she thought of it she snapped out, "WHAT? Why are you looking at me like that? For that matter why am I talking to you? I told you I'm going for a walk. You can stay if you'd like or go. I'll be back later."

She turned and headed rapidly for the door. Then she said aloud, "Maybe I need help after all. I'm explaining myself to a cat, a cat for crying out loud!"

She shook her head before exiting the room and closing the door behind her…

She never saw the transparent figure leaning nonchalantly against the counter, a mischievous smirk on his face and a twinkle in his mud-puddle green eyes. He wore a white turtleneck snow sweater and jeans. He had his arms lazily crossed over his chest. He looked down at the cat smiling at the animal who had at one time drove him nuts but became a long time companion. The cat looked up at him and meowed in recognition. Gary Hobson said, "Yep that's Lindsey. Hey, she's new so give her some time. Remember how long it took me to get used to this thing. She'll do fine."

The cat meowed almost as if saying he didn't think so. Gary commented, "Would you have a little faith in me cat? After all I picked her for a reason. She'll do a great job, just like I did."

The cat meowed as if to say that Gary had made more mistakes then anything. Gary rolled his eyes saying, "Even when I made mistakes I always had you to steer me right. You and Marissa... You know she's a lot like me. Lost everything she had, and now she's inherited you of all things... God help her."

The cat rowled its protest against the insult making him chuckle… Yes, Lindsey would do fine. She'd just need time to adjust, and the cat would help her...the cat and him. He'd watch over her because she will need him eventually just like he had needed Lucius Snow. At the times when Lucius had visited him throughout his life he never even gave a second thought to how someone who was already dead could talk to him. He just accepted it. In fact he accepted the spirit of Lucius Snow in his life quicker than he had accepted his paper into his life. Lindsey would work out just fine. He had faith in her.

He remembered the day that he had past his legacy to her. She had been so young, as had he when he had been chosen. She had lost her grandfather and he still wondered what would've happened if he had saved the judge's life that fateful night. He never expected the man to throw himself into the line of fire to protect a lonely woman who would've otherwise been murdered. Gary had known...he had just somehow known Lindsey would be the one destined to receive his magical paper. She was strong; she had a warm heart and a caring soul. She reminded Gary so much of himself that it was almost scary. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she realized what she now received.

The cat looked at him as if reading his thoughts. The cat always seemed to be reading his mind. He shook his head saying, "Would you please quit worrying. She'll figure it out soon."

The cat meowed insistently as if to respond that she needed to figure it out NOW. Gary walked over to the newspaper carelessly tossed on the counter. He saw the article in bold black letters: "CAR ACCIDENT JAMS UP LOCAL TRAFFIC FOR HOURS" and glanced up at the cat saying, "Is that it? Is that the article you're so worried about? It says no one gets hurt so relax. You know as well as I do that she has to see this picture taken. She just has to..."

The cat still watched him and the air suddenly felt thick with tension. Gary sighed heavily then said, "I know what happened to her husband. She doesn't like to see car wrecks...look cat, how else can we convince her of what she has here? She has to see it. Don't worry she's very strong. She can handle it; I know she can. Besides she'll have to get over that anxiety she has about car accidents pretty soon since she'll most likely have to prevent some."

The cat still eyed Gary up. His eyes seemed to reflect his uncertainty that the woman Gary had selected would be up to the challenge. Gary looked at the cat and said, "Relax would you? You're starting to make me worry."

The cat always seemed to communicate in some odd way to Gary. It was so strange. The way Gary could almost sense the cat's thoughts at times. He would swear to this day that the cat knew his own thoughts as well. The connection was downright...eerie, and even after all the years the cat had delivered the paper to him he'd still, on occasion, find himself wondering just how smart cats actually were and he'd still get a strange feeling that this cat was...different. Sometimes the cat even spooked him.

He glanced at the alarm clock sitting over by the bed on a nightstand. 8 o'clock. It was only 8 o'clock. She had three more hours before she saw the picture in the paper being taken. He wondered about her. She seemed so sad at times as if she was just going through the motions of life. He had been like once, when Marcia had hurled his suitcase at him from a window on their anniversary. It took him a long time to find closure. How long would it be before Lindsey found her closure? She had lost her husband just as he had lost his wife. Albeit, Marcia never died she had just divorced him... but the impact was still almost the same. Both had lost someone they loved dearly and both were left to pick up the broken pieces of their lives. They were left with the same burning question: Why? He had been lucky that he had friends to help him and support him. If it hadn't of been for Chuck and Marissa he might've never made it through all those hard times. They had helped him to stay sane when the paper had made him feel as if he had lost his mind. He hoped that Lindsey had people she could turn to and confide in as well. Life would be so much easier for her, handling the paper would be so much easier for her, if she had a support system. People she could confide in, people who would give her helpful advice... He was sure that somewhere out there was such a person for Lindsey...

The cat rowled loudly and insistently, yanking him out of his wandering thoughts. He glanced at the cat knowing on instinct that the cat was suddenly anxious. The cat was demanding his full attention. He felt a sudden nagging at the back of his mind. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. Something just didn't feel...right. As he thought about that a moment longer he quickly muttered with a hint of urgency and concern in his voice, "The paper..."

He immediately focused all his attention on the paper and felt a sudden uneasiness sweep over him. He knew what had happened without even looking at the paper. It had changed.

"No, no, NO!" Gary said almost in outrage. She wasn't ready yet! She didn't even realize what was now in her possession. How on earth could she fix something when she hadn't a clue as to what she had to do?

He glanced at the cat in frustration and said immediately in an accusatory tone, lined with a tinge of sudden worry, sudden fear, "What did you do?"

The cat stared back at him as if to say that he didn't do anything. Gary again read the headline: "TWO KILLED IN LOCAL CAR ACCIDENT." He briefly scanned the article, which stated that a mother and child were killed when a red Corvette swerved out of control smashing head first into a Chevy Corsica. The driver had apparently been reading a map paying no mind to the traffic when his car lost control and crashed into the Corsica. The mother and child were killed instantly on impact.

Gary again glanced at the cat silently accusing the cat with his eyes, but he knew that the cat didn't change that headline. Only one person could've changed that headline: Lindsey. She had done something that had made it change. Maybe she ran into someone involved in the accident or she held up someone because she had gotten in front of them in a line... She had done something, but it could be any number of things. Now it was up to Gary, Gary and the cat, to find a way to show her what she was now the owner of to get her to change that headline before it happened.

Gary again glanced at the clock by the bedside. Time was running out, and he was stuck with trying to find some way to show Lindsey what she must do if those two people were to live to see another day...

* * * *

Prior to the now altered headline...

Lindsey walked to the lobby heading for the doors again. Boswell looked up at her smiling he said, "Well, good morning Miss Romick. I trust you slept well?"

"Good morning...yes I actually did sleep well. Thank you for asking."

"You look better this morning."

"I feel better."

"Taking a walk I see?"

"Yes."

"Are you planning on staying with us awhile?"

She didn't speak up right away to deny or admit what she had planned to do. She liked it here for some reason. This place, this hotel, seemed to calm her nerves. She knew she should answer him. It was rude not to acknowledge that somebody had asked her a question so she smiled warmly and replied, "I don't know. We'll see. I'm taking things one day at a time."

"Good for you. Be careful out there, Miss Romick."

"I will. Thank you."

Then she turned towards the busy street, opening her umbrella she placed it over her head to shield herself from the rain. She stepped onto the sidewalk opting to turn left and see where it led her. She often walked just to think. She sometimes wondered how she could manage to walk without colliding with anyone, even when her mind was running a thousand miles a minute.

She walked down the busy sidewalk noticing that even on a weekend people were everywhere, always seemingly in a hustle. Chicago was always a busy city. There were always people who had to go places and had things to do. A lot of those people chose to walk instead of hailing a cab. At certain times in the day it was impossible to get a cab, so more often than not people just resorted to walking.

She kept walking, scanning the area around her and taking in all the sites and sounds. She saw hot dog stands and newspaper stands, buildings and…newspapers? She felt briefly nervous as she remembered that her eyes had just scanned over the Chicago Sun Times, but the paper at the news stand was different from the one she had read this morning...some how... She just couldn't put her finger on it... No it couldn't be, could it? Nah. She was just imagining things. She had always been one to pay attention to detail, ALL detail. It was one of her strongest traits. She decided it was just her imagination and attempted to continue on, but her mind screamed at her to look at the paper. Lindsey silently thought 'I don't want to.'

'Chicken,' echoed the reply in her mind. Before she had time to think she had backed slowly up to the small, enclosed booth covered with daily magazines and local newspapers. She smiled at the man in charge of the newspaper stand, and he acknowledged her by commenting, "Good morning ma'me. May I help you?"

Before Lindsey could think she replied, "A copy of the Chicago Sun Times please."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out money to pay the man. She gave him a courteous nod as he handed her the paper then resumed walking. She inhaled deeply, silently drumming up her courage then she looked down at the paper in her hands, and felt a pang of fear go through her. It was different! Was she losing her mind? How could it be DIFFERENT?

PART II

She glanced at the top of the newspaper: Saturday, April 12th. She then glanced at her watch. Her watch had the right date and it agreed with the paper. She quickly scanned for the photo of the boy and the car wreck. Neither headings were there, instead there was an article regarding the election and one discussing the increase in the local crime rate... This couldn't be right!

Something just wasn't right here. If this was today's paper then what paper had she read this morning? Had she gotten the paper from the day before? That made no sense, why would a hotel provide a courtesy newspaper to all of the guests and pass out yesterday's paper? The answer was plain and simple: they wouldn't do that because it would be bad for business. Maybe someone was playing a cruel joke on her...but who would play such a joke on a complete stranger? She could think of no other logical explanation it had to be someone playing a mean trick on her, it just had to be!

She felt herself collide with someone and immediately glanced up. She saw an elderly lady trying to pick up her spilled books. Lindsey suddenly realized that she was the cause of those spilled books now laying all over the ground so she quickly muttered, "Oh, I'm so sorry ma'me. I wasn't looking where I was going. Here let me help you."

Lindsey bent down and quickly gathered up the last few scattered books. Then she stood up and handed them to the woman. The woman looked at her saying, "You ought to be more careful child," but there was no condemnation in her voice, no accusations flew at her like most people in the city would reply to such a situation. There was no cursing just politeness and calm. Lindsey immediately felt more at ease again muttering an apology. The elderly lady looked at her then replied, "You don't have to apologize. There are so many people in this city all coming and going. No one paying any mind at all to where they’re going or who else is even around. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Lindsey found herself smiling. This elderly lady was a breath of fresh air. She was right. Most people in the city got so caught up in a race against time that they became almost rude to others.

The lady looked at Lindsey in concern then questioned, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes I'm fine."

"Are you sure, dear? You look a little...spooked."

Spooked? Lindsey had to choke back the laugh she had wanted to release. Spooked was definitely the best word to use to describe how seeing that different edition of the Sun Times had made her feel. She was sure now, as she thought about it, that either they had handed out the wrong paper at the hotel or someone was pulling a prank on her. Either way she knew she'd have to stop thinking about it or it would drive her crazy. The elderly lady excused herself and Lindsey watched as the woman got into a cab, waving at her as the car pulled away from the curb.

Lindsey stood there staring at nothing in particular before realizing what she was doing. She quickly broke the stare and looked ahead of her at the tons of people she'd have to meander through just to continue on with her walk. She scanned the people noticing a little boy darting through the crowd to run into his mother's open arms. The mother scooped him up, their smiles both radiant despite the rain. Lindsey felt her breath catch and felt her throat choke up on her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. She had wanted kids so badly... She tore her gaze away from the happily reunited family and felt sadness wash over her yet again.

She started to downcast her eyes when she saw a glint in the crowd. She glanced up and saw a man looking back at her. She felt an eerie, creepy feeling sweep through her. She felt as if she had deja vu. She knew the man but she couldn't place his face, so she told herself that she had never seen him before in her life. So why did she have this strange feeling that she had known him at one time?

Some tall gentleman of 6'4" stepped between her and the familiar stranger across the mass of people. When the gentleman continued on past the stranger he was gone. Almost as if he had just...vanished into thin air. She felt her skin get clammy, and she felt suddenly both anxious and nervous. Who was the man and why had he looked at her in such an intense way? Why did he vanish? Where did he go?

She was somewhat confused, so she began walking again. Unconsciously she headed towards where the stranger had vacated from just moments before. He had been tall, about 6'2", dark brown hair, dressed in a white turtleneck sweater and jeans... Who was he? Why did she feel as if it was suddenly very important for her to remember who he was?

She stopped where the man had stood shortly before and looked nervously around her. She saw nothing unusual so she shrugged then started to walk on when she heard a cat meow. She glanced up recognizing the cat instantly. She acknowledged it by asking, "Are you following me now?"

The cat looked up at her with all-knowing eyes as if he understood every word she said. Lindsey then commented, "You really shouldn't be out here cat. It's kind of a gloomy day."

The cat rowled then darted away from her heading the same direction the oddly familiar man had taken. She said, "Hey cat, where are you going? HEY...!"

She rolled her eyes as she again realized that she was calling for a damned cat. She muttered, "Fine! Go on and get soaked! Probably serves you right!"

Then she continued on. She lost track of time and realized, as she came to an intersection, that she stood on the corner of West Van Buren Street and Michigan Avenue. She was right near one of the local snack shops, so she decided to get herself a drink. Grant Park was up this way, so maybe she could go over there and walk around some. She could get her mind off her troubles if she had other sights to focus on that didn't involve the non-stop traffic of Chicago or the endless Chicagoans rushing everywhere...not to mention the odd feelings she's been experiencing all morning long...

* * * *

She entered the shop closing her umbrella and shaking out the layers of raindrops that had accumulated on the material during her morning stroll. She put in her order and thanked the person as they handed her the drink. As she turned a familiar voice asked, "Lindsey? Hi! How are you? I was worried about you when you left work yesterday afternoon. How are you feeling?"

She glanced up directing a warm smile towards her lifetime friend Alexander Harrington. She responded, "Better. I feel much better today. Thanks for asking. How are you doing, Alex?"

"Fine."

"What brings you here on a Saturday morning?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing. What are you doing in my part of town?"

"Remember I sold the house..."

"Where are you staying now?"

"The Blackstone."

"A hotel? Lindsey come stay with me. You shouldn't be living in a hotel."

"This may sound a little odd but...I kind of like it."

"Lindsey, it's a hotel..."

"So?"

"Are you looking for an apartment?"

"Right now I think I'm just going to stay at the Blackstone."

"Why?"

"Because I need a change and this is perfect for me."

"But..."

"Please don't try to sway me on this, Alex. I need something different, and...I don't know, the hotel seems like the best thing for me right now."

"It's a hotel..."

"We've already established that, Alex. I know it's a hotel."

"People don't live in hotels, Lindsey."

"Some people do."

"Who? Name one person."

"Well, I don't know but people have taken up residence in hotels before now. It's nothing new."

"It's crazy."

"And it's also my decision. Look Alex, you're always telling me I need to move on with my life. I need to accept that Michael's gone...forever. I need to find closure. Maybe... Well, I don't know...maybe I need to do this. Maybe I need to be in that hotel...for whatever reason. Maybe, maybe in finding a new residency I can finally find my closure. Besides the hotel isn't a permanent thing."

"But..."

"Alex, the place just feels...right for me. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel as if...as if I belong there."

"WHAT? How many nights have you been there?"

"Just one."

"Just one? And you're considering living there? Why?"

"I already told you why, Alex. Stop arguing with me. It won't change anything. For once since Michael...moved on I feel calm, relaxed. I feel somewhat at peace. I need to find myself again. I can't let his... The loss of...my husband dictate the rest of my life. I feel sorry enough for myself already. I'm still... I still miss him terribly. My heart still feels broken in two. I need to move on with my life if I’m to go on... If I'm to have any kind of life of my own...I have to get beyond the loss. I can't keep moping around. I can't continue feeling depressed and lost. I'll become mad with grief. I...I don't like what I've become. I don't like who I now am. I want to be whole again. I want to be me. The one who always has a joke, the one who always smiles...I need to be myself again. The more I dwell on things the emptier I become and unless I move on I'll wither away to nothing but the shell of a person who used to be alive. Alex, I don't want to become that lost lonely soul. I don't want to become a machine that only goes through the motions of life. I see myself fast heading that way and it...well it..."

"Scares the hell out of you?"

Lindsey nodded. She held her eyes downcast as she thought of what she was once like and about what she has left herself become.

"Lindsey this...what you're feeling is natural. Anyone who has ever lost someone they have loved deeply becomes depressed. Some people completely withdrawal into their selves and become a mere face in the crowd. Others go the opposite direction and become anxious. People are all different, and we all cope in different ways. You have suffered a huge loss. The loss of one you had dearly loved. The two of you were so...right for one another. When you were together it was as if you were one. You loved him very much, and he returned that love equally. It's understandable that you would become depressed. I've noticed that you're at the office all of the time now, always working. If you're not working then you're walking... Lindsey, you're still you whether you believe it or not."

"No I'm..."

"Tell me when was the last time you gave money to a homeless person?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"When?"

"Yest...yesterday, why?"

"When was the last time you have comforted someone?"

"I..."

"Lindsey, think about it. Yes, you are feeling depressed. Yes you feel as if you've lost your way but that's totally natural. Yes, you don't laugh as much as you did before Michael passed on, but you are still yourself. As long as I have known you Lindsey you have always been willing to go that extra mile to help someone in need. You may be upset, but you’re still polite and courteous to others. You help people when they need it. Your unselfishness is a big piece of who you are and nothing will ever change that, nothing...not even the loss of your husband. You believe you're losing yourself, but I believe that you're still the girl who helped me learn to read, the girl who stood up to defend me in front of the whole cafeteria, the girl who stayed by me when my dog died and when Charlie moved away...you are still that person. You've just temporarily lost your way and are now struggling to find your way back. You're just searching for the closure you need to be able to continue on with your life and to move past his loss."

Lindsey didn't know what to say to her friend. She was struck completely silent. She could feel a lump in her throat and she wanted to cry. She knew that if she didn't have Alex in her life she would fall into the chasm that she was dangerously balancing on the edge of. She silently sent a prayer of thanks up to God for providing her with such a great friend. Her and Alex had met in kindergarten. They had never really talked until he was given an assigned seat beside her. Everyone always thought Lindsey was little Miss perfect. She was well liked by her peers but few ever remained friends with her long. All of the teachers seemed to like Lindsey and all the kids wanted to be like her. She had never understood why no one would ever stay her friend. They were polite to her, but they'd never go out of their way to play with her. Alex had been a lonely little boy who had just moved into the area. He was severely shy, to the point that some would say he was mentally challenged. He had a rough home life. His mom loved him dearly and always treated him as a child should be treated, but his dad was a drunk, a mean drunk. He'd come home and hurt Alex's mother.

She had liked Alex immediately. She had wanted only to help him at first. She knew that he was hurting but at that age she hadn't understood why. His father did eventually leave him and his mother years later. Alex's mom remarried to a man who cared and loved Alex as much as his own mother did. As the years went by Lindsey and Alex became best friends. They both went to college and ended up at the same law firm. He was like an older brother to her, an older brother she never had.

Alex interrupted her reflections as he questioned, "The Blackstone Hotel?"

"Yes Alex."

"You know they say that hotel is a rat trap? Full of mice as big as Ohio...Oh and bats hide up in the attic. They have these huge droopy ears and fangs..."

Lindsey couldn't help it she left a small giggle slip out. Alex's joking voice brought a smile to her face. She loved him dearly and was so glad to have him as a friend.

Alex gently lifted up her chin saying, "Now there's that smile of yours I love."

"Stop..."

"You need more laughter in your life Lindsey..."

"Well, that's what I have you for."

"I knew there was some reason you always kept me around."

"Alex... Thank you. I feel better."

"Good...and Lindsey if you're really serious about staying at the Blackstone... I'll support you in that decision. I admit there are nicer places to stay then hotels, but if you feel you need to do this...then I'm with you."

"Thanks that means a lot."

"Have you decided what...?"

"I'm going to stay there for now."

"So when do I get to see the room?"

"Well, there's not a lot there..."

"I'd still like to come over."

"Sure."

* * * *

Gary continued his silent vigil over his successor. She sat with a gentleman who had short blonde hair and wore a suit. Gary couldn't make out any more of the man's features because he sat with his back towards him. Lindsey seemed very at ease with the man and Gary hoped that this was the person she could rely on. Her supporter when the paper drove her nuts. Gary was certain this person was very close to Lindsey. Finding some amount of comfort in that regard, he then found himself focusing on another thought. How was he ever going to get her to see that paper, to know she must stop that incident? How was he going to get her to accept what she had inherited from him? He knew he couldn't talk to her. She would run, probably scared half out of her wits, believing her grief was making her crazy and making her see spirits. She was too much of a novice to this whole bizarre concept. She would need time to deal with it and realize what she must do. This is why Gary was so angry about that headline changing. Lindsey wasn't even aware she held the future in her hands. She wasn't even aware that two lives now depended on her to save them. Gary felt very frustrated. If he could he would save them himself, but he could no longer do that. He was beyond the physical realm. He felt somewhat helpless, but he couldn't dwell on those feelings. He had chosen her and she had to accept the paper. She had no real choice in the matter. Gary even knew that once you're selected you couldn’t run away from your fate. He had tried to run countless times from the paper and never ever succeeded in outrunning his fate. He had been destined to receive it. Lucius Snow had chosen him because he knew, he somehow knew, that Gary was the right person for the job. Just as he had known that Lindsey was the right one. He had learned the hard way that he could never leave the paper behind or ignore it because if he had people would've died and suffered. If he had neglected the paper and had chosen to ignore it instead of accepting it he would've never been able to live with himself...ever. He could never stand to see others suffering and knew that she would feel guilty herself if she neglected and denied her given gift, but still he found himself worrying.

Her friend excused himself and Lindsey remained sitting at the table. It wasn't long before her smile became a frown, and he knew that she was again thinking of her husband. The loss of a loved one was very, very hard to take. He knew it to be true. He also feared that her depression might interfere in her responsibilities. She couldn't afford to be distracted easily, especially when someone's life hung in the balance. He knew that she'd do fine, but he couldn't help worrying about her. At times she just seemed so lost, so lonely, and he found himself wishing and wanting desperately to comfort her. All of his instincts would scream at him to console her, but he knew what the risks were should he decide to do just that. She was balancing on the edge, and a nudge in the wrong direction could send her toppling over that edge. He silently cursed, wanting desperately to soothe her but knowing that if he were to make his presence known to her too soon he could possibly, inadvertently, cause the little nudge that would send her reeling over that edge. He couldn't do that to her, or anyone for that matter, so he remained near her keeping a silent vigil over her and keeping his presence completely unknown to her. He remembered earlier when he had been watching her out on the sidewalk. He could've sworn that she had seen him. He saw the sudden anxiousness and nervousness in her. She had stared directly at him so intently that he was sure she had seen him. He was very glad when that taller gentleman had stepped between her and him momentarily breaking their eye contact. The interruption gave him the out he had needed. He had vanished on purpose. To see him now could possibly drive her completely away from the paper, from life. She was too aware of him, especially if she had seen him on that sidewalk, which he was positive that she had.

Gary noticed that Lindsey seemed very "tuned" in to him, too tuned into him. He had to keep his distance from now on because she saw too much. He couldn't explain why Lindsey seemed so aware of him. She didn't realize that he was a spirit, but she seemed to know when he was nearby...at least earlier she had. He couldn't risk her seeing him too soon. He had to tread lightly around her, and figured that since they were both so similar in so many ways that could account for her higher level of awareness of him. All he knew was that he had to be very careful where Lindsey was concerned.

He got up and headed outside. The cat sat by the door as if he had been patiently awaiting Gary's appearance. The cat meowed an acknowledgement and Gary asked, "What can we do, cat? We have to do something. Time's running out and she's still completely unaware of what she has to do. I'm open for suggestions. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated...I mean it's not as if you could just drop the paper off here. She wouldn't have a clue why it was here. She probably wouldn't even give it a second glance, so tell me what..."

He stopped in mid-sentence as he heard Lindsey's voice saying, "Hi cat, you waiting for me? I thought you left."

"Rowl."

"Why are you following me?"

She reached out as if to pet the cat when the cat jumped to its feet and headed away from her. Her voice and Gary's inquired in synchronization, "Cat, where are you going?"

Gary and Lindsey both felt sudden chills, and the hair at the base of Lindsey's neck raised on end making her feel just a tad bit edgy. Gary glanced at Lindsey and she at him, but knew she couldn't see him...at least he prayed she couldn't. Without a second thought he turned and followed after the cat not wanting to stay too near Lindsey just in case she would pick up on him again. Lindsey shook off her sudden unease and also followed after the cat. Gary questioned the cat, "All right cat, where are we going?"

The cat glanced at Gary as if to say he should trust him. Then the cat looked up as if to confirm that Lindsey was also still following. Lindsey then appeared around the corner so the cat resumed walking, leaving behind a perplexed Gary wondering what on earth the cat was now up to. Gary looked puzzled then he mumbled running his right hand rapidly through his hair as if he was attempting to push it out of his face. He stopped the movement of his hand at the back of his head then scratched it as if he was deep in thought. He stood for a few seconds trying to figure the cat out. He then shrugged telling himself that he'd never figure this cat out and resumed following after the cat and Lindsey.

As he continued on he became aware of where he was...near Monroe and Michigan... Why did those street names stick out in his mind? He thought back then remembered...the boy...the boy in the paper who won the essay contest. He had been standing in front of the Art Institute when the photo was taken...brilliant! The cat was leading her there to witness the photo being taken. He only hoped and prayed that this would work. He found himself, out of force of habit, glancing at his wrist where his watch should've been. He cursed again realizing he no longer possessed a watch. What time was it? How much longer before the mother and son were killed...?

He found himself suddenly remembering a very distant past as a voice that had haunted him said "...the waiting is the hardest part. Admit it...the past few days you've fantasized squeezing the trigger...immortality a heartbeat away. You've been tempted..."

His own voice responding, "No I haven't..."

Marley, J.T. Marley... Why did he suddenly remember that day half a lifetime ago? He was confused so he shook his head to clear it. J.T. Marley was a distant memory why now did he remember the man who had almost killed him? The man who would've killed him, had planned on killing him if it hadn't been for Crumb showing up just in time to both save him and stop Marley from assassinating yet another president?

He put the thoughts out of his mind, and glanced up to find Lindsey now watching a young boy with his father. A photographer was telling the boy to stand about midway up the steps that led into the institute. He wanted to photograph the boy while also getting the sun's rays playing across the front of it. The photographer told the boy to hold up his essay and Gary glanced at Lindsey to see her reaction. She had stopped dead in her tracks eyeing up the scene before her. She looked a little bit pale. Gary held his breath feeling the seconds tick by so slow that he wanted to scream. Her reaction to this new turn of events could be both positive and negative. They could also determine whether or not she was really ready for this awesome responsibility. Gary waited in the tense silence watching Lindsey like a hawk...

PART III

Lindsey continued to follow after the cat when she heard someone telling a boy to stand on the steps of the institute. She turned, out of curiosity, and felt her breath catch. The boy looked eerily familiar. She drew her hand to her throat when she felt suddenly lightheaded. She felt chills flowing up and down her spine sending every nerve on end. She had seen this photo already. She knew where the boy would stand and knew he'd hold the essay before him, a huge smile on his face. The photographer's voice grated on her nerves as he suggested that the boy hold his typed paper up before him. She felt suddenly afraid and nervous at the same time. Her mind kept saying she was dreaming, but she knew otherwise. This was totally real and totally impossible, yet she couldn't make herself look away. She needed to see the photo taken just to confirm what she already knew. The photo wasn't yet in existence, but she had seen it on the front page of her newspaper this morning. She found the idea both inconceivable and incredible at the same time. What she was seeing was totally impossible. She shook as she saw the photographer snap his picture and felt suddenly cold as the photo matched the one she had seen this morning. It was impossible! No one knew what was going to happen before it did that was totally insane! She chose to ignore what she saw instead of accepting it. The idea that she had been shown a future event in a daily newspaper was totally ludicrous. Maybe she dreamed the whole thing up. After all, she was dealing with depression. Did people who were grieving experience flashes? Did they imagine things that couldn't be real? She wasn't crazy; she was sad and upset. Being upset didn't make somebody crazy. What she saw was just something her imagination conjured up. It had to be that because nothing else made any sense. She believed only a little in the supernatural and paranormal. She believed that there was a possibility of such things occurring, but she didn't believe in them enough to say she was positive that such things existed in life. She needed to clear her head and Grant Park would be just the sanctum she needed.

She began heading that way rapidly, but her mind refused to let go of what it had seen. In her mind's eye she saw the photo in the paper and the headline that accompanied it: "LOCAL YOUTH WINS ESSAY CONTEST"...It was impossible, totally impossible...

She glanced up mentally cursing. Where was she going? She was supposed to be going to Grant Park. She made up her mind to go to Grant Park. She had wanted to go to the park then catch the lake path. Lindsey groaned in frustration...so since when did going straight on South Michigan take you towards the lake path, Lindsey? Shouldn't she be turning onto East Jackson? She looked around her. She was by the architecture foundation approaching the Van Buren Metro...going the opposite way then she had intended. Instead of heading away from her hotel she was now heading towards it. She started getting annoyed. She didn't need to check that paper she already decided it was her crazy imagination. But, unconsciously, her feet began moving again carrying her even closer to the Blackstone. She again stopped bound and determined not to go to her hotel. She rapidly wheeled herself around and took one step back towards the institute...her mind stopped her. What if she hadn't imagined it? The picture had been right in front of her what...what if it was real? She groaned again throwing her hands in the air in a surrendering gesture. She wanted to be positive that the newspaper wasn't real, so she headed back towards her hotel muttering under her breath nearly the entire way while telling her self over and over again that this was totally stupid. She was getting worked up over nothing, absolutely nothing!

As she approached her hotel Boswell nodded his head in a welcoming gesture and held the door open for her. She thanked him then headed to her room. Once inside she scanned the entire room. Where had she laid that paper...? Oh, the counter... She stepped towards it but hesitated before muttering, "This is stupid Lindsey, totally stupid. It's a damned newspaper for crying out loud! It won't jump up and bite you. Look at it!"

She decided arguing with herself was getting her nowhere, so she approached the counter picking up the newspaper. She looked at the front page...and felt the world spiraling under her...then righting itself again. It was there the photo was there, right on the front page in black and white. The headline jumped out at her, as if taunting her, as if proving to her that something she thought was impossible was true. Maybe the date was today's... She found herself silently hoping that date was correct, but as she glanced at it all those impossibilities became frighteningly real: Sunday, April 13th...Sunday, not Saturday but Sunday. She again glanced at her watch. It was Saturday the twelfth yet she stood in the middle of her hotel room holding Sunday's paper. She had no more excuses...

* * * *

Gary followed Lindsey back to the hotel feeling some relief in knowing that she didn't run screaming or break down into hysterics. She was contemplating. He could see her sharp mind whirling. Well, her reaction could've been much worse. He again found he was holding his breath and glanced over as the cat jumped up on the counter eyeing up Lindsey. The cat, like Gary, seemed to be tensely waiting for her reaction and response to the realization of what she now held in her hands.

The cat meowed catching Lindsey's attention. She found herself wondering how the cat had gotten in her room. Had it followed her? She looked into the cat's eyes and felt suddenly calmer. The cat seemed to be silently reassuring her with his keen, watchful eyes. He seemed to be silently assuring her that what she was seeing was true and that she was not losing her mind. She felt more at ease as she watched the cat. She pulled her thoughts together and began to think logically. Okay, if this were in fact an early edition of the Chicago Sun Times wouldn't there be more proof then a photograph?

Gary started to relax. She was trying to accept this unexplainable thing in her life. She said out loud without realizing it, "There should be more proof if this is real...but what?"

Gary muttered without thinking, "The sports scores..."

Lindsey again spoke out, "Sports scores...yes...if they match then I'll know for sure."

Gary felt that uncanny feeling sweep through him again. Had she heard him? He glanced at the cat who was watching him with that same strange look in its eyes. Was the cat wondering the same thing he was? Gary shook his head then again focused on Lindsey. She went to the television and clicked it on then turned to the sports section in the paper.

Lindsey took a deep breath then said, "Well here goes..."

She watched scores flash up on the screen and began comparing them. As each score was confirmed in her mysterious paper she found herself feeling a tad bit unsteady on her feet. Could this even be possible? Could she really be holding tomorrow's newspaper in her hands? Her first instinct was to rapidly deny it, but she couldn't easily dismiss the simple facts: she held a paper in her hand that had tomorrow's date on it, a picture that hadn't even been set for print stood out on the front page AND to top that off the present sports scores being announced on the television by the anchorman matched those listed in this paper. Not one of those scores matched, not two but ALL of them, which completely destroyed her theory that this was just a prank, a cruel trick some kids had decided to pull on her. No one could know every single sports score without missing at least one. Nobody knew the future...but now it seemed as if she did. The idea just seemed too unfathomable. There was no way she could get some paper that could tell her what would happen. The idea of such a thing occurring was, is, totally insane and totally absurd.

No matter how much she tried to reject the notion of a prophetic newspaper it was real. The paper existed. She held it in her hands. She could feel the thin, smooth newspaper in her hands. She could see the black type displayed across the front of the paper. The paper was definitely real whether she wanted to accept the impossibility of its existence or not. So what should she do with it? Why did she get it? Was she supposed to do something?

She found herself flipping to the front page scanning it yet again "LOCAL YOUTH WINS ESSAY CONTEST." She looked at the picture of the boy and felt as if she were in a fog. She had seen that photo being taken, and still couldn't exactly grasp that realization. It was just so...so...phenomenal. She then looked at the other photo. She knew it was of the car wreck. As she looked at the photo she felt something nudging at the back of her mind... Wasn't that Corvette smashed into a jeep earlier? Maybe not... Then she felt the blood drain from her face. She felt suddenly tense and fearful. The title of the article...it was different too, she was sure of it. Before the headline had said the wreck only jammed up traffic for a few hours but now, but now... She felt herself start to shake: "TWO KILLED IN LOCAL CAR ACCIDENT." She muttered, "Two killed, two...but why? How?"

She scanned the article: 'A mother and son were killed today when a red Corvette swerved out of control. The two were killed instantly. Apparently the driver of the Corvette had been looking at a map when he lost control of his vehicle and smashed into the Corsica. Mother and child were both pronounced dead at the scene...'

Lindsey found herself praying that family would survive. She knew personally how painful losing someone in a car accident could be. Life was so unfair. Her husband had been killed by a drunk driver, and now these two would lose their lives to another. Wasn't there anything anybody could do to stop that terrible accident? There had to be a way to stop it, there just had to be!

She threw the paper down on the couch silently cursing in frustration. Those two people would lose their lives today and there wasn't a damned thing anybody could do about it! She felt herself burning with anger and rage. She was angry that so many people had to die. The boy was only eleven, barely even a man, and he'd die today. Why did life have to be so unfair? Why did...why? She stopped her thoughts in their tracks as her eyes drifted over the newspaper again. Wait a minute... Could it be possible? No, the idea was preposterous. She couldn't do anything to stop that accident...or could she?

She inhaled sharply. Without another thought she scooped the paper up again rereading the article. The car accident occurred at 11 am...eleven... She glanced at her watch. She had time. She might have enough time to do something about it, she just might. But how could she stop a car accident? She certainly couldn't go running out into the street between the two cars...that would be totally disastrous, not to mention totally stupid. She had to at least try to prevent the tragedy...but how? There had to be a way. There just had to be! She wouldn't accept defeat! For some unknown reason she got this bizarre paper, and she knew that she was the only one who could prevent that accident. She wasn't about to give up! She was a fighter, and she intended to fight! Those two would live if she had anything to do about it! Now if she could only figure out how on earth to save them...

She was now nibbling on her bottom lip, deep in thought. She was bound and determined to find some way to stop this tragedy. She had to at least try. She couldn't just ignore what she had read, what she now knew. She had to do something about it or she'd regret it the rest of her life...but could she? Could she do what she had to or would her traumatic memories make her freeze?

Since Michael's death Lindsey has found it very difficult to get in vehicles or to walk too near the streets. Every time she would see one driver cut off another or someone forgetting to use a turn signal she would cringe and flinch. In her mind she would hear the sounds of squealing tires and screeching metal. She would hear the sounds of shattered glass. Then she would see his face: the face of her beloved Michael. She had to see him after the accident to make sure there was no mistake. She had felt the emptiness in her, but she hadn't been able to help wishing someone else had died on that fateful night. She had regretted looking at him after he was already dead and gone. He had been broken and cut up, pale as a sheet, no life left in him... He had been trapped in the car, and he was dead when they pulled him out...

She began feeling sick as she recalled that horrid night. She hated remembering her husband like that. She had wished numerous times, since then, that she would've never went to the morgue. She knew now that if she wouldn't have went there she would probably feel even worse than she did now. She felt cold all over. She could feel anxiety creeping up again. She couldn't do it...she just couldn't! She heard a nagging voice, her conscience, telling her that she had no choice in the matter. She must do it. She must prevent that accident even if it killed her to do so.

She again glanced at the paper now clenched tightly in her white fists. She held the paper as if it was her lifeline, her link to the present. She stared blankly down at the paper, but instead of seeing the article regarding the mother and child, she saw the photo that had accompanied the article about her husband. She refocused on the paper in her hands and was confused when she saw drops on the paper, as if they were raindrops. She never took it out in the rain with her... Then her mind registered the moisture now running down her cheeks. She felt a drop of moisture fall from the corner of her eye and make a slow trail down across her face onto her upper lip. She licked at her lips and could taste a tinge of saltiness...tears...she was crying again. She hadn't even realized it until now. Her heart ached. When would the pain end? When would she get beyond her despair and grief? When? She remembered the words to an old country song "...Love never broke anyone's heart. It never left anyone scarred. It's not really love that tears you apart, love never broke anyone's heart..."

In the song it was the losing of love that was to blame for the sadness and despair one felt when another passed on. Oh, how right that song was. She had been very lucky. She had been loved by Michael and she had loved him. She had been afraid, when she was younger, that she would never find someone to love her like no other...until Michael appeared. No matter how upset she now was she could never, ever, regret loving him. If she could live that time all over again knowing that Michael was to die in an automobile accident she would still do it all again in a heartbeat because, at least, she had that time with him. At least she had his love and knew what love was. At least she had some time on earth with him and as she thought more about it she found her courage was renewed.

She was once again determined to stop the wreck. She didn't want anyone to ever have to go through what she is. The boy and his mother had a family and if they were to die today as the paper proclaimed then their family would be crushed. She couldn't leave another reckless driver steal the lives of someone else's loved ones. She had to do whatever possible to stop it.

With renewed courage and fervor Lindsey again read the article thoroughly. The article listed the victims' names as a Mrs. Alyssa Price and her son Jacob Price. Now she was getting somewhere. She just had to find some way to locate Mrs. Price and somehow stop her from driving...or something. What could she do? What would work...? All right, so maybe she wasn't exactly sure how she was going to save them, but she had to do something. She decided to stick with one thing at a time. Her start would be finding this Alyssa Price and... Well, first she needed to find Mrs. Price before she even started to think of what else to do. So how to find her? She glanced around the room as if waiting for an answer to jump out at her. Her eyes then fell to the phone...the phone book...a good start. She only hoped that there weren't fifty Mrs. Alyssa Price's in the Chicago area. She had to stay totally optimistic so without another thought she went to the counter and grabbed the phone book beginning her search for the notorious Mrs. Price in the directory. She quickly scanned the pages knowing that time was of the essence. She didn't have any time to waste. She almost jumped for joy when her fingers found the name Price. She silently thanked the Lord above that only one Price lived in the area. She grabbed up her phone and quickly dialed the number, waiting impatiently as one ring sounded then another, then a third. Finally she heard a soft feminine voice answer, "Hello...?"

Lindsey froze. She couldn't think of a thing to say. Her mind went totally blank. She heard the voice ask hello again then hung up the phone. What could she say to the woman? Hello, I'd like to suggest you stay off the roads today because they could be potentially dangerous? She'd sound like a lunatic! She mentally groaned in frustration. Why did things have to be so difficult? She couldn't just call the woman up and warn her away from the roads. She also couldn't call up and tell the woman to avoid swerving Corvettes now either. The woman would quite literally laugh at her, believing her only a few hairs short of losing her sanity. She'd have to go about warning the woman in some other way. Well, she could try to delay the woman by getting her on the phone and talking her ear off but, of course, that would only save her a few precious moments of time. Not enough time to completely divert the whole horrible accident...not to mention that she still wasn't a hundred percent sure that this woman was the same one in the paper. The chances of her being one in the same were very high but by no means were those chances necessarily correct or accurate.

Lindsey muttered, "Oh, this is so frustrating!"

She saw the cat watching her then asked, "Got any ideas, cat? I could sure use some... Forget it, you don't have a clue what I'm even referring to."

What she wouldn't give for some free advice right about now. She had to do something. Standing around here contemplating wasn't going to save those people's lives. She had to think... She'd call the woman again and find out if she were the same lady who was to die today. She could ask about her son but... She snapped her fingers as a thought came into her mind. She could confirm this woman was one in the same if she knew the woman had a son named Jacob. She could call her and say she was Jacob's teacher or something...of course, knowing her luck today, she'd probably find out the boy was home schooled, but there was also the chance that this woman didn't even have a son... She couldn't think of the what ifs she had to focus on NOW. She needed to stop that accident. The paper said the other driver was from out of town so the odds of being able to track him down were slim to none. All right so that brought her back to her only other option--the mother and child.

She again reread the article, which provided her with a few facts that were sketchy at best. The victims names were included, the makes and models of the vehicles were included and, of course the intersection where the fated accident was to occur but the paper gave her no other clues...at all. She could go to the intersection but once there what could she do? Flag down every motorist telling them to pay attention and watch out for swerving Corvettes? That idea was totally absurd. No, she couldn't do that. Her best bet was still the victims. She had to somehow eliminate the victim's from that scenario. If they aren't on the road when the guy loses control of his vehicle he can't hit and kill them on impact. Maybe he'd instead swerve into the grass or a tree or something. The paper said the driver of the other vehicle wasn't killed. He survives the accident. The mother and child do not. Okay Lindsey, so what can you do about it? Stalling the victims seemed like her best bet right now. Albeit the chances of stalling people are slim to none, especially if you happen to be in a hurry for some reason or another. Everybody in the city of Chicago was always in a hurry to get somewhere...but what other choices did she have?

She picked up the phone and dialed the woman's number. Again that soft feminine voice came to her over the phone lines, "Hello?"

"Mrs. Price?"

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Alyssa Price?"

"Yes, may I help you?"

"Hi, this is the nurse at Jacob's school..."

"Oh Mrs. Livingston, how are you?"

"I'm fine and yourself?"

"Fine. How can I help you?"

"Well, I'm really sorry to bother you this early in the day, but I had a question."

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Well, as you know, all of our kids need to have a physical exam conducted at the beginning of the school year..."

"Yes, I know."

"Well Mrs. Price, according to my records your son is in need of a physical exam..."

"He just got one done recently."

"Oh, he did? I never received a paper on that. Could you possibly tell me when that was and who the doctor was that performed the exam?"

"Sure. You'll have to hold for a few moments while I go dig them out...or would you rather have me just call you back with..."

"NO! No, that won't be necessary Mrs. Price. I'll wait. I'd like to record it in his file while I'm looking at it...if it's not too much trouble..."

"Oh no, I understand. I like to be on top of things as well. Hold on a sec..."

Lindsey heard silence on the other end of the phone and released the tense breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding. She hated lying but could see no other way around it and, amazingly enough, the lie rolled easily off of her tongue. She thought it best to call pretending to be a teacher or someone from the boy's school. She got her confirmation that she had the right Mrs. Price...plus she has so far managed to stall Mrs. Price a little bit. Probably not enough to change that headline but every little bit of precious time she could get helped. She again glanced at the paper still held in her left hand. The headline still glared at her: “TWO KILLED..." not if she could help it!

She heard noise in the background and figured Mrs. Price was returning so she pulled herself together again preparing to continue on with her charade. She heard the woman's voice coming through the line again, "Mrs. Livingston?"

"Yes?"

"Jacob's last physical was in January."

"January...of this year?"

"Yes...the twenty-seventh."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes. I remember because we got it done the day after my husband's birthday."

"How is your husband, Mrs. Price?"

"Oh, he's doing fine. He's working today though. He's still putting in those weekend hours. We're planning on going out to eat for lunch this afternoon."

"Lunch? Well, that sounds nice. I hope you enjoy it."

"Oh, we will. Jacob's so excited. He can hardly wait. Jim's going to call us to let us know what time he'll be off work."

"Where is he working at now?"

"He's still at Kingsley Construction. They're working down on Roosevelt Avenue..."

"On West Roosevelt?"

"No, East Roosevelt."

"Oh...road construction?"

"Something like that. I don't really keep track of what he's doing. I never know where he'll be working next. There's always work to be done. Jim just goes where they tell him. He went in really early this morning, so he should be getting off work around noon. We're going to go meet him there."

"Oh."

"Jacob loves to go see where Jim's working at. He loves construction sites. I can see him growing up to be just like his daddy..."

There was a slight pause then Mrs. Price continued "...Oh, I better go. Jim will be calling soon."

"Thanks so much for your help, Mrs. Price. I really appreciate it, and you be very careful on those roads today. I'd keep my eyes out if I were you. People are driving like maniacs out there. I'd hate to think of what would happen if just one of those people weren't paying attention... They could cause an accident. The two of you be careful out there and have a great weekend."

"Thanks, you too. Bye."

"Bye."

Lindsey felt better... Thank heavens the notorious Mrs. Price loved to gossip. She now knows why the two were on the road when the accident occurs and she has another option available to her to prevent the terrible headline from becoming a reality. Mr. Price was at work and would call them when he was done. Now if she could somehow get him to delay that phone call which would, unknowingly, place his wife and son right in a direct path of imminent danger then she could possibly avert that accident completely...

PART IV

Lindsey was stuck with another dilemma...to find Mister Price and somehow get him to delay that call. If she was lucky then her efforts thus far may have already altered the headline. Lindsey felt a false hope arise as she again eyed up the paper. The ominous heading was still there. Mrs. Price and her son were still going to die. She had only one other hope: Mister Price. She prayed she would find him on time and stop him from making that fated phone call, which was only an unexpected step towards sealing his wife's and son's fates. She had to work quickly. She spotted the time glowing in vivid green from the screen of her bedside clock. Time was rushing by in a flash. Precious time was disappearing into the past never to exist again. Her time was rapidly counting down to that final cryptic conclusion.

She forced her body into movement. She had to get to Roosevelt Avenue and fast...East Roosevelt. Without another thought, or backward glance, she set her body into motion and flew rapidly out the door, down the steps and out of the main hotel doors taking a direct path towards East Roosevelt. Walking seemed to take too long so she broke out into a run. She was running against time, attempting to beat the clock. She knew Mr. Price would call his wife, but she didn't know when and prayed that she wouldn't be too late to stop him. If he only knew the consequences of his actions, if he only knew what would happen to his wife and son should he make that call...if he only knew then he'd never make the call.

As she ran she caught slight glimpses of street names as she passed by them: Eighth Street, Ninth Street...where was Roosevelt? She had to be reaching it soon. The street seemed so far away. As she ran she suddenly thought of just how far East Roosevelt stretched. Mister Price could be working any where on that street. She prayed that he wasn't working over near the Field Museum. To get there would take even more time and could potentially deter any attempts she might make to avert the accident. She yelled at herself, Think positively Lindsey! You must stay positive! You're almost there. How hard could it be to miss a construction site? The site would stick out easily along the stretch of road, face it just how many construction sites could there be along one road? There couldn't be many. To set up more than one site along a certain road kind of defeated the purpose of having the site...didn't it? Oh, man if only...if... She suddenly, viciously slammed a door shut on the chaotic thoughts now racing around in her mind. She couldn't help anyone if she continuously focused on all of those thoughts. She had to have a clear mind and a strong wit about her if she was to stop this chain of events from unfolding before her.

She began feeling winded. She did work out a lot and had an athletic build, but anyone who took off running full throttle without monitoring their pace would become winded should they attempt the long run she was now undertaking. She silently cursed herself for not pacing herself. She knew better but got so caught up in her thoughts that she had neglected to watch her pace. She felt tired and winded but knew that she couldn't stop, not yet. She had to get to Mister Price or spend the rest of her life feeling as if she herself had killed the man's wife and child. She could never live with that knowledge. If they died she would never forgive herself. She, and she alone, had the power and the insight needed to thwart that dreadful mishap. She was now responsible for the lives of those two people. When she realized she had some how received tomorrow's newspaper today she knew, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, that she was now responsible for those people the paper reported as being killed or hurt. It was a big responsibility for one person...and she hoped, in the back of her mind, that the prophetic paper was only a temporary thing. It had to be, the chances of her again receiving the wondrous paper was slim to none. She was positive the newspaper was going to be a one-hit wonder... She prayed that it would be...

At last she saw the street marker: East Roosevelt Avenue. She felt her body and mind fill up with elation but momentarily put a hold on that emotion. She wasn't finished yet. She stood at the intersection of Roosevelt and Michigan glancing anxiously up and down Roosevelt. All she saw was vehicles... Where was the construction site? Had she missed it? Should she head for Wabash or Columbus? Which way should she go? She surveyed both sides of the road but saw no indications of any kind of a construction company. She felt her heartbeat accelerate, her body tense and chills start to spread like wildfire in a fine line of goose bumps all across her flesh. Where should she go? Which way? She needed help...someone's help, anybody's...please! She sent a silent plea to God for help, for a sign, which way should she go?

"Rowl."

WHAT? She glanced up to see the cat, her cat, standing halfway down the sidewalk. Why was the cat here? How did it get here? Did the cat run after her? How on earth did it keep up with her? She had been running extremely fast... Another persistent meow called to her from the sidewalk. She muttered, "Cat..."

She stepped towards him and he darted down the walk to her left. Where was that stupid cat going? The cat stopped in its tracks and veered towards her again staring at her as if insisting she follow. She stepped towards the cat who responded by turning forward and wandering onward again. She began to follow then stopped. What was she doing? She was wasting precious time following that cat. People were going to die soon and all she could do was focus on a cat! Again she wondered which way she should go. She quickly glimpsed up stopping her thoughts as she saw the cat again watching her. The cat had stopped again as if it was waiting for her. Did it want her to follow and if so why? Then she vaguely remembered asking God for help. Immediately after she made the silent request she had heard the cat, her cat meowing. Could the cat be the sign she was searching for? The sign she had just requested? She found it kind of funny that a cat could possibly provide her with aid...a cat. Should she follow after it?

She again glanced at her watch. She was running out of time; she had no other options. The cat did act as if it wanted her to follow, and she was otherwise clueless about which way to go. She again looked at the paper. Had she actually carried the thing with her while she ran? She swore she had laid it down, but it still remained gripped in her left hand. She gave the paper another quick overview. The article still remained. It still pronounced that two people would be killed at 11am. She quickly made up her mind. She knew Mister Price was working down here at a construction site, and she had no clue where it was. She followed the cat. The cat broke out into a sudden run. Lindsey ran after it. She was well aware that she could be unknowingly sealing the fates of Mrs. Price and her son by opting to follow the cat on a whim, but something nagged at her. Something silently told her that following the cat was the right thing to do. She didn't even try to comprehend how a cat would know to lead her somewhere. Forget it! Some things were better left unexplained in life. She noticed that the cat ran fast but at a pace in which she could handle. The cat ran almost as if it knew to keep a certain pace so it wouldn't lose her in the crowd. She ran on and on then her eyes scanned across the sign that marked the site: Kingsley Construction. She felt her heart well up with joy and euphoria. She had found the construction site, and now she had to find Mister Price. She heard a voice yelling, "Hey Jim, you stayin' late today?"

"Nah. Going out to dinner with my wife and son."

Going to dinner with his wife and son? Could this man be him? She said out loud without even realizing it, "Mister Price."

The man glanced up at her questioning, "Yes?"

Lindsey jolted. Why was he looking up at her? He again questioned, "Ma'me, can I help you?"

"Mister Price?"

"Yes?"

"Are you...I mean do you... What I'm trying to say is..."

"Hey, catch your breath. You look as if you were just running a marathon. Catch your breath. I'm patient."

Lindsey gave Mister Price a weak smile. She was very winded, not just due to running either. Her emotions and thoughts were kind of a blur as well. She mentally told herself to relax, calm down and focus. Finally, she calmed her breathing down enough to speak. Mister Price was still watching her then he continued, "There you go. Better?"

She nodded and Mister Price asked, "Now what can I help you with?"

"Mister Price it's about your wife and son..."

"Are they all right? Are they hurt?" Jim Price inquired with concern and worry very evident in the straining of his voice.

Lindsey quickly replied, "No, no they're fine..."

"So what is this about?"

"Well, Mister Price..."

What could she say to him? She felt her whole mind go blank. She couldn't even think of a single response. What should she say? Again, she couldn't just say that if his wife drove her car at such and such a time his wife and his son would both be killed. He would probably respond by accusing her of being up to something or being crazy. What should she tell him? She hated lying but in this case she couldn't tell him the truth because he would think her in serious need of therapy or something. Lindsey spoke up rapidly, "Your wife wanted me to tell you that you don't have to call. They'll wait for you at your home. They'll be ready when you get there."

"What? Are you a friend of my wife's?"

"Yes...yes...we talk a lot at the PTA meetings."

"Really?"

"Yes. Her and I needed to discuss one of our fundraising campaigns, so I called her up on the phone. She told me you were planning on calling her when you got off work. She had some errands to run so she'll be running late getting back. She said to tell you just to head home...her and Jacob will be ready to go by the time you get there."

"So why didn't she call?"

"Well, I live down this way. I told her I'd stop by if she needed me to since I'd be down this way. Plus she wanted to get those errands done before the three of you went out to dinner."

"All right. It looks like I'll be driving home then. Hey, thanks for taking the time to stop by and let me know."

"Sure, anytime. I hope the three of you have a nice time today."

"We will. Thanks again. I have to get back to work, finish up so I can get out of here."

"Bye Mister Price...oh and Mister Price?"

"Yes?"

"Make sure you tell your family just how much you love them. People need to hear that from time to time. Take care!"

"You too."

Lindsey walked away. When there was some distance between her and the construction site she quickly pulled out the paper looking to see if the article was still there. She sighed in relief. In its place was a different headline, "ACCIDENT JAMS UP LOCAL TRAFFIC." It was back. The original article was back, but now instead of the Corvette being smashed into another vehicle the car had its front end rammed into a tree. The article said that the driver walked away from the accident unharmed and was quoted as saying he was glad to be alive. Lindsey felt great! She had saved two lives today. She knew that the mother and child would have no idea just how close to death they had come today, and she also knew that Mrs. Price would tell her husband that no one had visited her earlier in the day. She would be surprised to see her husband entering their home...especially since, as far as she knew, he was going to call them. Let them wonder who the mysterious person was that visited Mister Price at work. They would soon forget the person claiming to be a friend and their lives would continue on. Lindsey decided to go back to her room to relax and enjoy the rest of her weekend.

* * * *

Later that day she heard a knock at her door. Now who could that be? No one here knew her so who? She went to the door and looked out her peephole...Alex. She opened the door, a big smile on her face, and said, "Well, hello Alex. What brings you here?"

"I told you that I wanted to see the room. This is a really nice hotel..."

"Stocked full of rich history."

"I've walked by here millions of times, but I've never been inside. Can I come in?"

"Sure. Like I said...there's not much to the room."

"I like it...granted it's a little smaller than I'm used to, but...it's quaint."

"Thanks. Well, come in and have a seat. I was just making some dinner. Care to join me?"

"Love to."

Alex sat down on her couch and picked up the newspaper. Lindsey spoke up, "My paper..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

She didn't really want him to see her mysterious paper, but she suddenly found herself silently urging him to glance at it. Would he notice the date? Alex interrupted her thoughts, "Hey Lin, since when did you read the Chicago Sun? I thought the Tribune was more your style."

"I decided to expand my horizons. Try new things...and well that paper ended up at my door step this morning."

"Ah, I see."

She watched Alex's face for any changes. Didn't he see the date was different? Couldn't he tell that paper was...unusual? She watched him, but he didn't react at all. He just sat there casually reading the paper as if it was a totally normal edition of the Chicago Sun. She couldn't hold back the suspense was killing her and the waiting was killing her. She had to tell someone about it and who better then her best friend? She casually questioned, "Hey Alex...?"

"What?"

He continued to read the paper but when Lindsey didn't continue on with her comment he glanced up. Lindsey never was at a total loss for words. He looked at her noticing for the first time how exhausted she looked. She was paler than usual and seemed sad. Michael's death had struck her hard...very hard. He knows that she hasn't been sleeping well and that she hasn't been eating right. He's been harping at her nearly every day to eat and get some rest, but Lindsey was never one to sit around. When Michael was alive she would sit down more often and would actually find time to relax. Now she was always doing something. He knows that part of the reason she continually keeps herself so busy is so she doesn't think of Michael. But he still worries often fearing that she'll run herself completely down.

He watched her expectantly. Lindsey knew he was waiting for her question, but how could she explain the newspaper? What would be the best way to inform Alex that he now held tomorrow's newspaper in his hands? She found her voice once again then continued, "Do you notice anything different?"

"What?"

"Do you notice anything different...?"

"You're in a hotel."

"No, no I mean..."

"Lin, what is it?"

"Well..."

"Tell me Lin. Just spit it out."

"That paper..."

"What about it?"

"Did you look at it?"

"That's what I'm doing."

"No, I mean...did you really look at the front of that paper?"

"Lin, honey, make sense."

"Okay... Alex, look at the date printed on the front page of that paper."

"What? Why?"

"Just...do it."

She watched in tense silence as Alex looked at the date. She watched him intensely waiting for any kind of a reaction or response. He glanced at it briefly then looked up at her ready to question her when she noticed his face go a slighter shade pale. He suddenly looked back at the paper staring intently at it. Lindsey then said, "Today is Saturday, April twelfth Alex."

"I know that."

"And the paper says Sunday, April thirteenth."

"A misprint..."

"No. No. That's what I thought too, but it's not a misprint."

"It has to be. It just has to be."

"No, I'm afraid that paper is quite real."

"Can't be, that would mean..."

"I'm getting the Chicago Sun Times a day early."

"But..."

"I know it's a little hard to comprehend, but I'm sure it won't arrive again."

Alex looked up, questions burning in his eyes. Lindsey continued, "I think that paper is a one-hit wonder so to speak. I doubt it'll happen again."

"And what if it does, Lin? What if you wake up tomorrow and again get...I mean the idea is ridiculous but what if..."

"I highly doubt I'd get the thing twice, that just doesn't happen."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Come on Alex. I mean the idea of getting a futuristic newspaper once is nuts. Why would it keep coming?"

"Because maybe that paper needs you to do things for it."

"WHAT? Don't be ridiculous! It's just a newspaper."

"A special newspaper, a special newspaper that came to you and only you...Maybe you've been chosen to do..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Alex! It's all just...an accident."

"You don't really believe that, Lin."

"Yes, I do..."

"No you don't. Don't lie to me...you can't lie to me. I know you too well, Lin."

"It's a fluke, that's all. For whatever reason that thing was outside my door this morning and…and I changed it."

"WHAT?"

"There were two articles in that paper on the front page that stuck out..."

Alex scanned the newspaper in his hands. He knew the article about a car accident would catch his friend's eyes. Lindsey was still very shaken up about accidents. She would read every article she'd find just in hopes that she could some how make some kind of sense of it all. Of course reading other articles on automobile accidents only made her feel sad and depressed. The articles didn't help her because she would be reminded of how she had lost her husband. Alex questioned her several times about why she would read those articles and why she would put herself through that whole ordeal again. Alex still didn't quite understand why, so he chalked it up to her feeling guilty that she lived while Michael had died.

Like the first article he was sure caught Lindsey's eye, he found the other one that would've gotten her total attention: the boy with the essay. Lindsey had always wanted kids. Her and Michael wanted to have them for years but all the hoping, wishing and praying still hadn't provided them with the beautiful child they both had prayed for. Maybe if Michael's life hadn’t have been so quickly extinguished they would've gotten their wish. But someone, or something, up above wanted things to happen just the way they had. Maybe that something also wanted his friend to have this paper. Alex had a feeling Lindsey would wake up again tomorrow to find Monday's paper on her doorstep. He had a strange feeling this mysteriously appearing newspaper was no mistake.

He looked up seeing Lindsey watching him expectantly. He had gotten so caught up in his own thoughts that he failed to give her the reply she was expecting...or the reply he thought she had wanted. Had she even finished her sentence? Alex's thoughts had tuned everything out, everything including her voice. He felt a tad bit guilty as if he might've missed something important she had said. He spoke out, "Two articles caught your attention?"

"Yes."

"Let me hazard to guess here: Accident Jams Up Local Traffic and Local Youth Wins Essay Contest?"

Lindsey looked a tad bit surprised then she shook her head as if she remembered with whom she spoke. She merely nodded in response to his inquiry. Alex prodded further, "So tell me about these articles."

"Well uh...I..."

"Lin, speak up."

"Alex, I... How can I put this?"

"Just say it. Tell me what's so important about these two articles."

"Well...that car accident..."

"Yeah? What about it?"

"The headline...changed... It was originally that headline...when I returned the...it...the headline was different."

"What?"

"It was...different. Instead of saying the accident jammed up traffic two…two people were killed."

"Lin, it says here that traffic was just backed up. The driver of the car walked away."

"I know it says that now because..."

"Because? Lindsey what?"

"I...I did something that made the headline return to its original form.”

"What did you do?"

"I called the woman who was to die...I spoke with her. She told me that her husband was going to call them...told me where he works so I... I went there and talked to him. In the end he decided to just drive home so she was never on the road to get killed. The headline changed right after I left her husband. It changed right after I spoke with him."

"Lin, honey..."

She smiled nervously then said, "I...I know it sounds crazy but...that's exactly what happened. I don't know, Alex. Maybe I'm nuts. Maybe my grief..."

"Stop right there."

Alex stood up rapidly and walked to her gently gripping each of her upper arms. He looked at her then said in a softer tone of voice, "Don't. You are not crazy. You're grief isn't making you crazy. I told you before to stop saying that."

"But maybe..."

"No, no buts Lin. You're not crazy. You are grieving for a loved one."

"But other people don't grieve this long."

"How do you know? How do you know that, Lindsey? You don't know; you're just assuming that they don't grieve. Like I told you earlier everyone is different. People can be torn apart on the inside feeling lost and lonely and on the outside be smiling and laughing. Lindsey, it's human nature to hide feelings and emotions from the world, especially painful ones. Some people will show how they feel while others will hide it. Sometimes it will take people only a few weeks to move on with their lives while other times it could take years or even an entire lifetime, so stop calling yourself crazy and stop blaming yourself."

"I don't..."

"Yes, you do and you know you do. Lindsey, it was his time to go. For whatever reason Michael was called home, and you were left here. For whatever reason you are still alive. Don't try to find out why because you never will. Nobody knows why bad things happen. No one. Bad times are just a part of life. You weren't left alive for no reason. Someone or something needed you to remain here and needs you to change headings in this paper."

"But..."

"No buts. There is a reason for everything. Everything is connected. Everything occurs for some reason or another. Every event, every person, every thing works together, everything is interconnected and interwoven. We may not understand how or even know why but eventually the answers will be revealed. Some of those answers will be revealed before others. God or whatever is up there, has a plan...there are set plans. We don't even know what those plans may be, but the plan is already in motion. Sometimes..."

A voice echoed in Lindsey's mind, a familiar voice that she couldn't place. The voice responded to her as if she had said something. It was a calm, gentle voice, a caring voice, the voice of someone who was willing to offer comfort to complete strangers… She stared off into the distance as the tender, warm voice spoke, "I think that sometimes we've got a say in that plan...remember that for me, will you?"

Where had she heard that comment before? Had she even heard it or just imagined it? She knew the voice and remembered someone saying that exact thing to her sometime in her life but when?

PART V

"Lindsey? Lindsey, honey?"

Alex's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. She shook her head to clear it and refocused on the face of her friend. She questioned, "What?"

"Where were you?"

"Wha…what do you mean?"

"You seemed...distracted by something. Are you all right?"

"Yes I'm fine, Alex. Now what were you saying?"

Alex stared at her a moment longer. She had zoned out on him. He was sure of it. She was looking at him but wasn't seeing him for a brief moment. What was she thinking? He dismissed the thought then continued "I was just saying that sometimes we just have to be patient before we get our answers."

"What? I'm sorry. What were we talking about?"

"Lindsey, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes Alex, I'm fine. I was just...a little distracted."

"I could tell. Care to explain?"

"No, no. It was just...one of those things. Now back to what you were saying..."

"Nothing. It was nothing."

"Alex..."

"Just... You need to stop beating yourself up over Michael. Blaming yourself for his death will only cause more harm then good. Blaming yourself won't bring him back, Lindsey."

"I know. Don't you think I already know that? I just...I..."

Alex pulled her gently into his embrace. He spoke softly, "I know Lindsey, believe me I know."

She felt better. She could always find comfort in Alex's arms. He seemed to always be there when she needed a shoulder to cry on or just needed someone to be there with her, to chase away the loneliness. She felt better about the mystical paper, too. Alex didn't laugh at her or call her crazy when she told him about it. Instead he attempted to explain why the thing existed. He had said the paper would probably be back. She found herself hoping it wouldn't. She felt great saving the lives of those people, but if she got that paper again would she be able to stop another terrible tragedy from occurring or would she make the tragedy even worse? She didn't know so she decided not to even think about it.

Alex broke the hug asking, "Would you like to go out to dinner?"

"But I was making something..."

"So save it for tomorrow and we can enjoy it then. Come on Lindsey, what do you say? You haven't been out in a long time. Come on. My treat."

She smiled up at him, "Your treat, uh? Well, now that's an offer I just can't refuse."

* * * *

They went to a pizza place and Lindsey had a great time. She needed to get out and was very glad that Alex had offered. Their conversation began as normal, everyday chitchat but soon the topic revolved around the newspaper. Alex prompted, "So what are you going to do about it?"

"About what?"

"The paper."

"Nothing. It won't be back."

"Lindsey..."

"Okay if it did come back...just what am I supposed to do with it?"

"I think you need to do whatever you can."

"And what's that supposed to mean? Am I supposed to just drop everything and run around saving everybody? Look I'm no Wonder Woman and no Xena. I can't just drop everything and run...I have a life."

"Yeah, one where you work all day and well into the night. Then you sit around all night long worrying and wishing that things were different. Tell me Lin, do you even like your job anymore?"

"Well yes, of course I do Alex. Don't be silly."

"I'm not. Look Lindsey, you used to have this...fire about you, this spark about you whenever you worked. Everyone could tell you loved your job. I...I don't see that excitement in you, that fire in you, when it comes to your job anymore. Your job seems more like just something for you to do. When you work you don't put your heart into it..."

"That's not true..."

"No? I think maybe it is. Now earlier when you were telling me about saving that mother and child...I saw that fire in you again. You liked helping those people. You enjoyed helping those people."

"So what are you saying? I should just quit my job?"

"Why not? You have enough money saved..."

"Alex, that is not an answer."

"Just consider it..."

"There's nothing to consider."

"If that paper shows up on your doorstep again tomorrow then there is something to consider."

"No, there isn't. I told you that paper was just...a mistake."

"Do you really believe that?"

Lindsey looked down at her remaining slice of pizza still sitting on the plate, not a bite taken out of it yet. She knew Alex had a point. She also wasn't sure if the paper arriving on her doorstep this morning was just a mistake either. She had this nagging feeling that today wouldn't be the last time she saw that unexplainable newspaper. He was also right about how she had felt today after saving those people. She felt charged and alive. She felt good...great actually. She hasn't felt like that in quite some time. Alex was also correct about her job. Yes, she loved being a lawyer but she just didn't feel that surge of excitement anymore. She felt as if it was just a job to do. She felt like her heart was no longer in her work. She had blamed those strange feelings on the loss of her husband, but she knew the job no longer held the lure for her that it used to. Maybe she was ready for a change after all. Sure, moving out of that house and into the hotel was a big change for her, but...maybe she needed a change in her job as well. Maybe it was time to move on to something new. She now had a choice to make...a huge choice. Well, maybe she needed to start fresh again. It was definitely an option worth considering.

The two finished up and decided to walk. Alex walked with her. The two were totally silent neither saying anything, but it was a companionable silence. As they continued on Lindsey saw bright flashing lights. What was going on? As they drew closer they saw a crowd. Lindsey looked up at Alex, and he looked back at her. He said, "Let's see what's going on."

As they neared the crowd they heard loud voices and could hear more sirens wailing in the distance. The two pushed through the crowd until they made it to the scene ahead of them. Firemen were working busily trying to put out a blaze. A young man was being wheeled into a nearby waiting ambulance. Lindsey saw an officer nearby and called out to him, "Excuse me, sir? Excuse me? What happened here?"

"Fire," the officer quickly replied then turned back to finish his job. Lindsey saw him turn away and yelled out again, "Was anyone hurt?"

The officer swung back towards her looking about half irritated by the interruption then responded, "Ma'me I'm going to need you to step back."

"Was anyone hurt? Please tell me."

"I'm sorry ma'me, I can't give out that information yet."

"But..."

"If you want to know then read tomorrow's newspaper. I have to get back to my job, ma'me."

Lindsey froze in her tracks and her face drained of all its color as the officer's words echoed in her mind, "Read tomorrow's newspaper...tomorrow's...tomorrow's."

Lindsey felt a sick pang in her stomach as she spoke out, "Oh God..."

Alex noticed her go completely pale, so he reacted quickly by placing his arm across her shoulder and looking at her in concern. Alex inquired, "Lindsey what's wrong?"

She whispered her reply, "I could've stopped this."

"What?"

"I could've stopped this..."

"No Lindsey, you couldn't have."

She pulled from him heading away from the crowd of anxious spectators watching the crazy events unfold. She yanked the paper out of her back pocket opening it she flipped rapidly through it. Her eyes were scanning the pages as she flipped past them. She stopped as bold black letters leaped out at her from the third page: FIRE BREAKS OUT, ONE INJURED. She read the first few sentences muttering them barely audible. Alex listened in, "Fire broke out late last night in downtown Chicago. Fire inspectors speculate that the blaze broke out around 10pm last evening. No known cause has yet been determined as to what started the fire. Police suspect possible arson..."

Lindsey grew a shade paler. She mentally yelled at herself. She could've stopped that fire and prevented that person from being injured! She could've stopped it, if she had only read more of that paper. Alex looked at her with concern and worry. He questioned, "Lindsey..."

She glanced up at him briefly. Her expression was unreadable. She didn't focus on him instead her mind was somewhere else. Then she glanced at him. She muttered three audible words aloud: "I missed it."

"Lindsey, don't!"

"I missed it. I could've stopped the fire, but I wasn't fast enough! I didn't pay enough attention to the paper and I missed it!"

"You can't blame yourself for..."

"The hell I can't! It's right here in black and white! If I had only looked beyond the front page! If I had only..."

"But you didn't."

"And because of that someone may die!"

"What does the paper say about that?"

She scanned it then spoke up, "Just injuries...burns..."

"So the person doesn't die."

"That person shouldn't even have been hurt if I had..."

"It was a mistake. Lindsey, accidents happen all the time. Sometimes we can't stop them."

She shook her fist in rage clenching the paper in it. She continued, "But I could've stopped this one! I could've stopped it!"

"How?"

"By reading more of the paper."

"Yeah well, you just got the thing this morning. You have a lot of unanswered questions. Can you honestly say that you completely accept this thing?"

"Well I..."

"Your hesitancy tells me no. You still have doubts, so you didn't make a mistake. Maybe you had to see this accident to again affirm the existence of this thing in your mind."

"But..."

"You can't blame yourself for this accident, and I'm sure no one else will blame you either. Lindsey, the whole idea of a prophetic newspaper is foreign to you...especially since you’re naturally a skeptic. You don't really put all that much stock into the paranormal and unexplainable...knowing this about yourself you should be able to see that there is no way you can honestly blame yourself for not being here... At least you now know the power you hold in your hands."

"I don't want that power! I don't need it. I know this thing will never come to me again! If I have to see what I've missed, the events I could've changed, then the damned thing's a curse...I don't want it and I don't need it! I know I'll never see it again. I just know I won't."

"Lindsey...I hate to be the devil's advocate here and all but...well, you just may not have any choice in the matter. It may continue to come to you no matter how much you don't want it to. You may be stuck with the thing."

"How? I never asked for it!"

"Maybe you can't just ask for it. Maybe you have to be selected to receive it."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Yes why. Tell me why."

"Because this thing is a huge responsibility. Just think of what could happen if it's misused. It could make you filthy rich."

"How?"

"The financials for one...the sport's section for another."

Lindsey hadn't even thought of how something this amazing could create problems. She didn't even think of how it could be misused. A person could get totally rich off the thing. If people knew she had it there's no telling what they may do to get their hands on it.

Alex again interrupted, "Maybe this thing selects owners...People who will use it for helping out not those who'd use it only to make a quick buck..."

"Why...?"

"Let's just forget about it. I mean you said so yourself that it'll probably never come again so what's the use in worrying about something that you may never see again? Let's just go home so you can get some rest."

"Okay, sure."

They continued on towards her hotel. She still felt extremely guilty for missing that article regarding the fire. She refused to turn and look back knowing it would only make her feel worse. As they walked she watched the flashing lights of the ambulances fade and heard the murmurs of the crowd falling silent. She felt better once she was far enough away from the scene that she could no longer hear the commotion or see the lights. She felt so tired. Alex escorted her home then left saying he'd stop in again tomorrow to see how she was. He also told her that if she needed to talk to give him a call at anytime.

* * * *

Lindsey traipsed lazily towards the elevator deciding she was just too tired to walk up all of those stairs. She managed to slip between the elevator doors right before they shut completely and stood in the empty elevator car staring off into space. She felt the elevator jerking to life as it lifted the car. Once she heard the ding indicating the elevator was at her floor she waited impatiently for the doors to open deciding that she needed a nice, long, hot bath before she went to bed. A bath would fix her right up. She trudged to the door, opening it with the key and entered her new home. She closed and locked the door, walked by her couch and casually flung the newspaper onto it. She went into her bathroom and clicked on the faucet running a nice hot bath.

As she shrugged out of her clothes, stepping into the now full bathtub, her mind flew instantly back to the fire. She could've, should've stopped that fire! She sat down in her tub closing her eyes in a useless attempt to block out all thoughts of her earlier mistake. It was too late...she had been too late. The man would be fine. He only suffered minor burns, the paper told her that much. Alex told her not to worry, but she couldn't help it. She knew that tonight she had made a mistake. What if that man had died in that fire and because she had neglected to read the whole thing she had forfeited his life? The paper was too much of a responsibility and she didn't want it to return, so she convinced herself that tomorrow it wouldn't be there.

She eventually got out of the tub and drained the water feeling better and more relaxed. Now she could probably go to sleep, so she crawled into bed and settled on the mattress, soon sleep claimed her.

* * * *

Lindsey sat bolt upright in bed as a voice announced loud and clear: "Good morning, Chicago! Today..."

She clicked the alarm off rapidly, glancing at the time she groaned. Six-thirty? Again? Why did she keep setting that alarm so early? It was Sunday! Everyone slept in on Sunday! Then she recalled the newspaper. It wouldn't appear...or would it? Nah that had all been a dream, a crazy mixed up dream that...

"Meow!"

THUNK! No, no not again! That was impossible! It had been a dream. She just imagined that sound. There was no way she was about to get out of her nice, warm bed to check her doorstep. Nope, today this woman was sleeping in! She flung herself back on her bed and closed her eyes...for only a split second. Damn! She silently cursed her insistent curiosity. She violently jerked the covers off of her and stomped over to the door, cursing non-stop the entire way there. She reached for the doorknob ready to yank it open but stopped her hand midway there. If it was there... She shook her head violently then yanked the door open. She glared downward sighing in relief before her face softened. It was just the cat again. No paper just the cat, but as the cat stood up she could see a paper lying under it. She felt chills climb her spine. Was that the bizarre paper or just a normal paper? She bent over reaching for the newspaper her hand hovering hesitantly over it then dropped down to grasp it. The cat ran past her to the bowl she had sat on the floor for it the previous day. She paid little mind to the cat as all of her attention was directed towards the newspaper. As she brought it to her she saw the bold faced letters that spelled out the title of the newspaper: CHICAGO SUN TIMES. Then she glanced at the date...and froze in shock horror at her discovery. It was Monday's edition! The enigmatic newspaper was back again.

She quickly glanced up and down the hallway searching for a sign that someone had been there, anyone. Not a single person was in the area. Just her, the paper and the cat...so who had delivered the thing? A ghost? I don't think so, Lindsey.

She closed the door and went to the refrigerator pulling out a container of milk, pouring some into the bowl for the cat. She asked, "Did you bring me this paper, cat? If so, could you please tell me why?"

The cat glanced at her as if to say that she already knew why. She shuddered as those chills climbed up her spine yet again. The cat spooked her as it looked up at her. Why did the cat make her feel suddenly so...disturbed? The cat probably had nothing to do with this paper. She broke eye contact with the cat and made herself some coffee. Once the coffee was brewed she poured herself a cup then began reading the paper. She saw nothing that caught her eye, so she turned the page and stared...FOUR KILLED IN ROBBERY ATTEMPT.

No way! Four killed in a robbery attempt? That meant weapons, guns...there was no way she'd go stop this event! Someone else would have to do it. Car accidents were one thing but...guns? Guns were altogether a different story. You get wounded with a handgun, and you'd most likely die. No, this event was way too dangerous. She wouldn't go!

She still felt compelled to read the article though so she skimmed it, "Four people were killed today when a robbery went sour. The robber opened fire when the cashier set off the alarm. The gun man panicked and opened fire on the unsuspecting customers...Police are still searching for the armed robber who was reported as being last seen over on Whacker Drive. Police are looking for any possible leads on the suspect..."

Her mind began to wander as she again glimpsed at the cat. Was the cat connected to the paper or was it just a coincidence that he appeared on her doorstep the same day the paper had arrived? Was it just a coincidence that the cat just happened to be sitting on top of the paper this morning? It was an absurd idea; she knew it was, but she just couldn't help wondering about it. It was a mighty strange coincidence that her cat and the paper arrived in her life the same day. Of course, then again, it could be just that...a total coincidence. Speaking of total coincidences it was just a bit unusual that she never saw the paper until she stayed in this hotel room. Maybe the paper came with the hotel room. Maybe anyone who stayed in this particular room got that early edition of the Chicago Sun, of course that idea would totally blow Alex's theory right out of the water. Alex seemed to think the paper itself was the selector of its owner. How on earth could a paper select someone? The idea was...preposterous, so where did the thing come from and why did it come to her twice? Alex had told her that she was supposed to do whatever she could with the thing, but then that would mean...that would mean she had no choice in the robbery situation. That would mean that she'd have to go to that store and stop this deadly robbery before it occurred. She could get killed...maybe she was one of those victims the paper listed. She didn't know if she could go right up to some stranger, knowing he was armed, and talk him out of a robbery. She knows the robbery has to be stopped or there would soon be four less Chicagoans in the Windy City...could she live with their deaths on her conscience knowing that she has the power to save them? Sure she could... NO, she couldn't! There was just no way to avoid it. She was bound and determined to avoid that store altogether. She had made up her mind. Guns were just too risky. Those people would have to fend for themselves. But even as she tried, unsuccessfully, to convince herself to forget the story even existed her mind was already processing and thinking up ways to steer this gun-wielding robber's mind away from holding this store up.

She eyed the cat up suspiciously. Then muttered, "Why are you so quiet all of a sudden? Why are you watching me, cat? Finish your milk..."

The cat didn't back down. It continued to watch her. The cat watched her for a few moments longer then turned his head quickly to his left. He meowed in a friendly manner as if he was saying hello to someone...but no one was there. What was that cat looking at? It was sure creepy the way the cat turned and meowed as if greeting an old friend, an old companion. Nothing was there, she was positive. So why on earth did she feel so incredibly edgy? She felt almost as if somebody was in fact standing there, but she knew that was down right impossible. No one was in this room besides her...her and the cat. She unconsciously rubbed her hands rapidly up and down her arms, as if she were trying desperately to warm herself. Just as quickly as the cat had looked at the blank wall he dropped his head and continued lapping at the fresh milk Lindsey had graciously provided for him. Lindsey felt overwhelmingly relaxed and calmer once the cat stopped focusing on the wall. Her imagination must again be playing tricks on her or something. The cat probably just saw a spider or a bug and nothing else.

She rapidly jerked her eyes away from that particular spot in the room and again eyed up the paper. Four killed in robbery attempt...who were they and why were they in that store? Were they just stopping in to pick up a gallon of milk for their wives or going grocery shopping? Were one of those four individuals just in there to play the lottery hoping against all hope that they would have the winning numbers? Maybe one of those people had decided to stop in quickly to get a soda for their long drive home, but today death was waiting for them in the form of a man wielding a gun and wearing a mask. The day could be the happiest day of one of those customers’ lives and that perfect day would abruptly end as they ceased breathing due to a complete stranger pulling a simple, small trigger. One simple pull on that trigger would kill instantly. Those people didn't have a prayer...unless someone out there, someone lucky enough to see futuristic events before they happened, prevented the whole tragedy. That someone out there held four lives in their hands; four lives would be cut tragically short unless a miracle saved them. Lindsey just happened to now be that one person who could permanently change that crucial event and undo the evil that would otherwise occur.

Lindsey tried desperately to forget that terrible headline, but every time she closed her eyes she saw the faces of innocent people. She was their last hope, their only hope, because nobody else had that paper...the paper that gave her the knowledge of their unexpected deaths. No one else could stop that tragic ending except her. She held the paper in her hands. She now held the power to save those people. She knew that she had no choice but to act. She could never live knowing that those four lives could've been spared if she had only acted when she had the chance to do so. It would be a critical error that she would forever regret. She had no more room for regrets. She had to do what she could to eliminate that mishap or suffer a life full of regret and remorse for what she hadn't done. Guns or no guns she had to go there. There was just no avoiding the inevitable. Maybe that was her answer as to why she got this paper...because, no matter how bad the heading was, she'd never be able to sit back and do absolutely nothing. She would have to act, or she could never live with the consequences of her actions. Perhaps whoever, or whatever, opted to deliver this paper to her knew she'd do what ever she could to help those who needed helped. Could the answer to her question be so simple? She wasn't so sure that was the answer to her question, but it sounded legitimate enough to satisfy her curiosity...for now.

She reread the article. The robbery wouldn't occur for several hours. She had time to contemplate and to relax if she could. She began thoroughly reading the paper starting with the front cover and making sure to read every little story that was there. She didn't want to have a repeat performance of what had occurred the previous night. If there was some other event that she could do something about she wasn't going to miss it! Not now, not today and never again! She would also have to check the paper periodically throughout the day just to be safe and sure there wasn't something or someone else that would need her immediate attention.

Next:

INSTALLMENT 2

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