Never Say Never (Resetter Series Book 2) Read online

  "I wasn't going to sell that land." Miss Gwen frowned. "It has a pathway it has to be kept in the family."

  "You sold it to the Porters," Travis said, "The girls I am talking about aren't even born yet."

  "Oh heavens," Miss Gwen repeated. "One of them is a resetter? What's her name?"

  "Her name is Addison Porter."

  "Good heavens." Miss Gwen whispered again.

  "Grandma, everything all right?" A young Monica looked out at them through the window.

  "Yes dear." Miss Gwen grunted. "Good heavens."

  Monica came out on the veranda and looked at Travis. "Who are you?"

  Travis stared at her for a long while and then smiled. She looked pretty much the same when he had met her in 1996. She was just younger and slimmer now.

  Monica frowned at him. "Why are you distressing my grandmother?"

  "I am not distressing her, Monica," Travis said, "We are just talking."

  "You know my name?" Monica asked.

  Miss Gwen was rocking back and forth and muttering good heavens. The fact that he was a resetter was still sinking in.

  "Where is Vernon?" Travis asked as Monica folded her arms and glared at him.

  "Mr. Campbell to you," Monica hissed, "he died last year from a brain aneurysm."

  "It runs in his family." Miss Gwen focused on Travis and sighed. "That's why I couldn't go back to save him, it might have happened to him earlier, it might have happened later. There wasn't anything my resetting could do except give me more grief. I would have still lost him."

  "Sorry about your loss, Miss Gwen," Travis said feelingly. "I know how much you loved him from reading your diaries."

  "My grandmother does not have any diaries." Monica growled. "Who is this little boy, grandma?"

  "You know Monica from the future?" Miss Gwen whispered.

  "Yes," Travis nodded, "she is my girlfriend's..."

  "No," Miss Gwen shook her head. "Let it be how it is supposed to be. No foreknowledge you have said enough."

  Monica glowered at him, "What are you talking about?"

  "I haven't told her yet." Miss Gwen smiled at Travis. "Thought I would do so soon. She is the only one, except for her father Burt who would believe me."

  Travis nodded. She will believe you. She is your greatest believer.

  "Who is this boy?" Monica screeched the question, obviously resenting the fact that they were talking mysteriously and ignoring her.

  "A friend." Miss Gwen said getting up. "What is your name, son?" Miss Gwen asked belatedly.

  "Travis, Miss Gwen. What date is this?"

  "June 1, 1975." Monica was the one who answered. "How comes you are granny's friend and she doesn't know your name? And how comes you don't know the date?"

  Miss Gwen ignored Monica. "Where are you from, son?"

  "I am from Kingston," Travis said softly. "My parent's don't know I am here."

  "Good heavens," Miss Gwen muttered again.

  ****

  Miss Gwen got Burt to drive him to Kingston. Burt was a police officer who worked in Spanish Town. He went there every Sunday. His car was a new Ford Escort, which Burt seemed to take great pride in and he blasted the radio all the way to Kingston while he chewed on gum. He didn't ask Travis any questions or directed any conversation to him.

  When he drove up to the house, it was three o'clock in the evening; his parents and grandfather were standing at the front of the yard talking to two policemen.

  His mother was sobbing when he got out.

  "Where were you? Who is this? "

  Travis did not get a chance to answer before his mother who seemed considerably taller than he remembered was folding him in a hug and running her fingers through his hair.

  "We sent you to church with Arlene, where did you disappear to?" His father sounded pissed.

  His father had an Afro and was wearing tight pants and platform shoes.

  Travis bit back an effort to laugh. They looked just like that old photos that they had on the mantle place in the living room from the future. It was interesting to see his father looking so young and his mother so rail thin.

  "I brought him back from Mandeville." Burt was the one to reassure them. "My mother said he was her friend."

  "Your mother? Friend? Mandeville?"

  The questions were fast and incredulous.

  The policemen recognized Burt. One of them was a batch mate of his. They directed their attention to Burt quite quickly, shaking hands with him and nodding in familiarity.

  The batch mate started an unrelated conversation with Burt leaving the other policeman to reassure his bewildered parents that if he was in Burt's care then it was okay.

  They soon left. He only had his parents to face.

  Travis sighed as he looked into his mother's tear stained face and the worried lines on his father's and the...well, he couldn't read his grandfather's expression. It was neutral.

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Where were you, Travis Jefferson?" Pasha was in fine form.

  His explanation that he time traveled from 1996 was holding no weight with her.

  "You can't just run off. You can't just disappear from church." Pasha sobbed, she was more distressed than Travis had ever seen her, even when he had met in that accident that left him paralyzed.

  The accident that wasn't going to happen.

  "Give the boy some time to clean up and then have some dinner." His father was the voice of reason.

  Travis stood in front of the stairs; he had not entered the top floor of this house for ages.

  Not ages. He was just ten. He reminded himself wryly. He went to his room, which was neat as usual. Arlene was not allowed to clean it, his mother inspected it every week to make sure that he kept it clean.

  Cleanliness was next to godliness and she had been determined that he would be a neat boy.

  He had his marbles and spin tops and his other little games tucked into a drawer and his trucks and toy wagons stashed in the closet.

  He reacquainted himself with his ten-year-old life quite quickly. He hadn't been a complicated boy. Besides, he had no time to dwell. He was starving.

  He washed, luxuriating in the fact that he could just walk into the bathroom and get his ablutions done in record time. His mother always checked behind his ears. He cleaned there thoroughly, dressed in shorts and t-shirt and ran downstairs.

  His parents and grandfather were already sitting at the formal dining table. Arlene was in the kitchen.

  "Where were you, Travis Jefferson?"

  Travis shook his head, "You wouldn't believe me."

  "Good lord you almost gave everybody gray hair," Arlene muttered. "I couldn't find you after church. You want to eat in here with Duke?"

  Arlene asked him. She was shaking her head as he walked around the kitchen looking around it in awe. His mother had renovated it in the mid-eighties. The country style décor that it was now in, with its white cupboards and rooster tiles as backsplash, were replaced with clean modern lines.

  "I ah, I have to eat with grandpa this evening," Travis answered after he looked around the space.

  "Oh yes, your grandfather." Arlene responded, "very nice man. He brought me a watch from Canada as a present. Just in time too, my old watch is dead."

  "Travis!" Duke skipped into the kitchen, he was a little shorter than he was and he had a bandage on his knee and his ears looked a little bit too big for his head. It was something that he had outgrown and Travis had completely forgotten about.

  His front tooth was just growing back; he looked like an innocent little boy without a care in this life.

  He spoke with a slight lisp because of his teeth. "We are playing long remembrance when we are done eating, okay. I got a new set of cards."

  "Okay." Travis smiled at him. "Sure."

  He almost hugged him and said something inane like, "I am so happy to see you still so innocent and unspoiled. I am going to make sure that you never grow up to be a murderer."

  In
stead, he knocked knuckles with him and headed to the dining room.

  ****

  Travis found himself wolfing down the traditional Sunday dinner of fried chicken, rice and peas, vegetables and candied sweet potatoes like a person who was starving for days. He had forgotten what a good cook Arlene was and how acute his ten-year-old taste buds were.

  The taste of the food exploded on his tongue. All of it was homegrown. The chicken, vegetables and peas were from his cousin Murphy's farm. The sweet potato he could vaguely recall was planted where the swimming pool would be in the future.

  His mother watched him as he gobbled down the two plates of food and didn't say a word.

  His father sternly told him no dessert when he was done with the second helping.

  Travis nodded. "That is a fair punishment."

  Miguel laughed aloud. "Say what? That's not your punishment. You waltz in here from Mandeville, you tell us some ridiculous explanation of how you reached there and you expect that not having dessert is your punishment. You must think you are a spoilt rich kid."

  Travis groaned and put his hand on his head.

  He watched as Arlene served dessert, which was carrot cake with frosting and vanilla ice cream.

  He was too full to be overly envious but he found himself licking his lips as Arlene put down the last plate in front of his mother.

  He cleared his throat and asked her. "Arlene could you stay a while?"

  She paused. The whole table froze. Apparently this was an unusual request from ten-year-old Travis. Travis couldn't remember being assertive at ten, so yes this was a memorable moment.

  He squared his shoulders and sat up straighter in the chair. He was not letting this opportunity pass.

  His family was going to listen and he was going to make them believe. He had a lot of arsenal at his disposal. The people here, his mom, dad and Arlene had a few secrets that only they could know.

  "I want to talk to the adults. Is Duke still eating?" He asked so solemnly, that he got an automatic nod from Arlene.

  His father protested. "What is this, boy? You calling conferences now?"

  Travis inhaled. "Dad, Grandpa, Mom, Arlene...I really am coming from the future. In a couple of days I will explain the why's and how's of it but I want you to hear me out properly and take me very seriously.

  "Dad," he looked at his father who had a slack jawed look, they all did.

  He guessed that they had never had a ten year old talk to them so firmly before. This was the '70s children were usually seen and not heard at least from what he could remember. He had to take advantage of the lapse.

  "Dad," he repeated again, "Munro is a crook, he is funneling off your money in little increments to an offshore account. Tomorrow first thing when you go to work have AJ Sullivan, take over the accounts department. Audit Munro. If you don't do it, you will be staring down the uncomfortable barrel of poverty.

  Miguel shook his head. "What?"

  You heard me. Travis wasn't mincing words and he didn't have the luxury of time to make this easier. Besides, the quickest way to get his father to take him seriously was to talk about his money.

  "First thing tomorrow, do not delay. AJ has been at you about auditing the books, listen to him."

  That's true, AJ has been on my case for a while." His father slapped the table. "Boy, how do you know this?"

  "Because I am coming from '96." Travis turned to his mother who had a fearful look in her eyes as if she expected him to blurt out something else distasteful.

  "Mom," He wasn't going to sugarcoat this revelation, "Duke is Dad's son."

  Arlene gasped and was swaying on her feet like she didn't know if she should faint or stand still and hear more.

  "You all know this," Travis said sternly, "especially you mom. You cannot continue to pretend that he is not Dad's son. You all need to deal with this before that innocent boy in the kitchen turns into a hate filled murderer.

  "He will, if you ignore him and treat him like he is not yours. All he has ever wanted is his rightful place in this family. Like that poem you have hung up on the kitchen wall by Dorothy Law Nolte, If a child lives with acceptance he learns to love.

  "That little boy in the kitchen needs to learn to love. My suggestion to you Dad is to openly acknowledge him and call him a Jefferson. Make him matter or you will regret it.

  "You will all regret it."

  He said it more forcefully than he intended to. He even hit the table for emphasis.

  Arlene did the cross sign and started babbling a prayer. His mother started fidgeting in her chair. His father's eyes couldn't bulge any wider.

  "And Dad," Travis said tiredly. "You have to find a way to delegate more at the office. You have to spend more time with Carly, Elizabeth and Milly. Especially Milly. She is a girl that needs her father's attention.

  "If you continue to ignore Milly she will turn into a drugged up junky. Shortly from this she will be seeking love everywhere. She will start getting it from very unsuitable men because she has never gotten it from you."

  He inhaled. Everybody was deathly still. "All of this is more important than running a company and stocks and shares."

  He fixed his gaze on Arlene. She had tears in her eyes.

  "Do not confess what you did to her, confess to God because she will never forgive you and the whole course of your life will change if you do."

  Arlene swallowed and nodded. At least she believed him. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

  "And Arlene. Keep Duke away from Ramone, Rocky and Reese. By '87 Ramone will be killed in a turf war. Rocky will cause mayhem and death in this family and Reese will be in prison for murder."

  "They are Peaches boys, my cousin Peaches," Arlene stammered. "They are family. They are just little boys."

  They are little boys now but they will grow to be dangerous men. This is the time to change the course of their lives. Do not allow Duke near them, not unless they are moved out of that environment and learn to become responsible citizens."

  Travis turned to his father. "Dad, you need to help those boys. Those three will end up in a bad place if you don't help them."

  "How the hell do you know any of this?" Miguel grunted in disbelief. "How on God's green earth can you know this?"

  "It doesn't matter how." Travis exhaled. "It matters that I do. I am here to change our future for the better and you are going to all listen and take heed. I can't allow Sky to die."

  "Who is Sky?" His grandfather spoke for the first time.

  "My friend...my girlfriend...the woman I love," Travis said, realizing at the same time how weird what he was sounding. He was ten years old. He was talking about the woman that he loved to his grandfather.

  "I watched her die before me on Dad's 70th birthday right over there he pointed to where the pool would be. I am not living through that again. I am not living through any of that again.

  The change starts here, around this table; the change starts with each of you. You all better make it happen. You have a responsibility to the children in your lives, whether they are yours or not, whether they are legitimate or not."

  Maybe he shouldn't have said that. His father flinched. His mother looked at Arlene wide-eyed. He could feel the tension in the room.

  "Go to your room." His father's voice was weak and trembly sounding. You have given us more than enough counsel for the evening. The adults need to take it from here."

  It was no use protesting that he was an adult too. Travis asked instead, "can I go and play with Duke?"

  "Yes. Go." His mother nodded.

  "Arlene sit down," was the last thing that Trevor heard his mother say.

  ****

  He wasn't punished that night. They forgot to punish him or they couldn't in all good conscience do so. He had after all; set them on the right path with his little speech.

  His grandfather spent two weeks in Jamaica and most of that time he spent with Travis, asking him loads of questions about resetters. He found Oswald
King's articles for himself at the library and drilled Travis about it.

  "I am not around in '96 am I?" His grandfather asked him when he was leaving for Canada where he was currently residing.

  "No." Travis shook his head. "That is why I had no counsel for you."

  "It's my heart isn't it?"

  "Yes," Travis nodded. "There was nothing that could be done about it. Maybe if you eat right and exercise and..."

  "Pah, I know the drill. At least now the news won't be any surprise," his grandfather said wryly.

  His grandfather squeezed his hand in the airport lounge. "Will I see you again?"

  "Yes," Travis nodded, "for at least another couple more years."

  He smiled at that. "Well then I won't have to rush home to my lawyers to adjust my will. You deserve a special thank you, my special grandchild."

  "Grandpa," Travis held his hands, "you don't have to."

  "Oh yes I do." His grandfather winked at him before going off to the departure lounge.

  ****

  It had been a turbulent few weeks in his family; his father took Travis' advice about Munro. He had the accounting department taken over and audited the very next day. Munro had already funneled millions out of the company account with his creative accounting. By the end of the month, the police arrested him at home. He had to pay back every single dollar.

  July was not allowed to run its course before his father hired vice presidents who were in charge of key departments.

  The accounting system had more checks and balances than before and his father spent more time with his children.

  Late July, family time became a staple in the Jefferson household. At their very first meeting, the announcement was made that Duke's name was changed on his birth certificate.

  He was officially and proudly a Jefferson and Miguel's favorite golf pal. Travis never cared much for the game. He didn't begrudge them the time they spent together bonding either.

  In August, Travis spent a lot of time with his dad in the office. He told him about future trends, he created policies for the company that were way ahead of the time.