As soon as the wagon pulled to a stop, Charles ordered Zack inside to "have a word" with him. I didn't know exactly what he meant, but I knew it couldn't be good. I followed the two of them inside, despite the parents' want to speak with me. "I have to use the bathroom," was my excuse.
I hid near the door leading into the living room, listening in on Charles and Zack. How on earth could I get back to my own time period? In a way, I wanted to grab Zack and take him home with me, but I wasn't sure how possible that would be. And I was afraid of failing.
"You ain't going to get away with talking anti-Klan, you idiot! Come hell or high water, you are going to join!" Charles roared, pointing at Zack with a thick forefinger.
"You aren't my father! And I'm not joining that racist group!" he shouted back, leaning close to his horrid, ugly uncle.
Charles slapped Zack across the face hard enough to send him spinning. Thankfully, he didn't injure him too bad; within seconds, Zack was back on his feet and began to pound on him with his fists. "Don't ever hit me again, you racist creep! You're horrible!"
Charles shoved him away. "You are going to join the Klan! Heck, I got you your robe and if you don't do what I tell you to do, I will spill the beans about the incident that occurred last week between you and Gardenia Harcourt! Got it, Zachary?"
Gardenia Harcourt? Who was she? Zack had never mentioned her before; he'd told me that he never had a relationship with anybody. Maybe this was a woman whom he was forbidden to speak to. It was hard to tell.
"You shall not!" Zack blanched, his face reddening.
"I will if you don't do as I say, Idiot!"
Zack then suggested bluntly that Charles go to the fiery underworld. Before he could be hit again, he ducked away from Charles and dashed from the room, cursing under his breath. That's when his uncle saw me spying on him. "Having fun prying in other peoples' business, Miss Caldwell?"
"Oh, no." I shook my head.
"Well, then, I suggest you get the heck outta here before you pay greatly for it! What we say or don't say is none of your dang business!" he roared. I did exactly as Zack had; I ran from the room towards his bedroom.
Once in Zack's bedroom, I found him lying face down upon his bed. "Zack." I touched his shoulder gently.
He lifted his face from the pillow. "What is it?"
"Charles...he makes me uncomfortable. I think I'm going to go home for a bit to think about this. It's really bothering me how he treats you," I told him earnestly.
"Will you come back?" he asked pleadingly.
"Eventually." Should I come back here? Maybe he knew that I would fall back in time and that it would be a good idea for me to see exactly what he went through in order to learn something. Maybe I learned enough.
"Come with me?" I asked suddenly.
"You want me to?" he widened his eyes.
"For a little bit." I shrugged. The problem was...I didn't know exactly how to get back home. I glanced around the room quickly until I spotted that familiar journal lying shut on his desk. I wondered if opening it would take me back home. It had brought me here in the first place...why should it not take me back to my own time?
"Hold on." I strutted over to his journal.
"Please, Tara, don't read my journal. It's stupid." Zack groaned.
"It might help me get back to the future," I muttered. I whirled around to face him. "Grab onto my hand. I think I know how you can come home with me while I straighten this out," I said.
Zack frowned. He then bent over and picked up my clothes that I'd worn here. "You might want these," he said softly before sliding his bigger hand into mine. I reached over and flipped open the journal. I felt the same, familiar feeling that I felt when I first went back in time. The same spinning sensation. I grabbed onto Zack for dear life, hoping he would stay with me and not be lost in time forever.
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