Allergic To Time (18 page)

“Come on,” I called out to Rob, who was eyeing him in the distance in the mirror behind me. “We need to get a move on.”

“What, already?” he asked clearly aghast. “It’s 7am! Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Alright alright, give me 15 minutes.” But he lay back down and closed his eyes.

“Robert!”

“Fine,” he said, shoving the covers off himself and stumbling out the side of his luxury king sized bed. “But I don’t know why we need to go this early. There won’t be anyone at the university yet.”

“Exactly,” I told him. “That’s the point.”

“So what?” he asked, grabbing a towel and heading for the bathroom. “You’re just going to hide in the physics building and then jump out and scare people when they arrive, demanding they give you your job back?”

“Something like that,” I said, still smoothing my hair down in the mirror, so that it sat just right. “I haven’t exactly decided yet.”

“Well, you’d better decide, since we’re going to be there in half an hour.”

I sighed. He was right.
 

We took a taxi straight to the campus. I wasn’t about to waste time mucking around with public transport, and after my casino windfall the previous night I was feeling pretty carefree about money. But I still pulled a face when the total came to $20 for the mere seven minute drive between Darling Harbour and the University of Sydney. I handed over the cash reluctantly and climbed out, inhaling sharply as the University’s main hall loomed over us. How was it possible that I had been away from this place for over three months? It seemed like only last week it had been the beginning of semester. Oh, right, it had been.
 

We shuffled up the hill to the main part of campus. The first thing I intended to do was stop for a coffee at the library coffee cart. I figured the action would serve two purposes. One: it would wake me up, which I really need. Two: it would ease my nerves, trick my mind into thinking it was just a normal day on campus, and I was just going along my usual business.

As I ordered my latte I turned to Robert. “After all, I deserve to be here! It’s not fair that I feel like an outcast at my own university. I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

Robert pulled a face.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” He turned and looked out over the park that neighboured the library.

“Tell me what that face was for!” I demanded. “What, you think I do deserve this?”
 

We exited the coffee stand and I began to scull the hot liquid. It burnt my tongue, but I didn’t care.

“I don’t think you ‘deserve’ it,” he began slowly, and I shot him a defensive look. “No, really, I don’t. I mean, this is screwed up man. You didn’t deserve this.”

“But?”

We sat down on a bench under a giant tree out the front of Fisher Library. “Err,” he cleared his throat, and reached for the packet of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. “You and Martin,” he continued.

I raised my eyebrows and put my coffee down beside me. “Me and Martin, WHAT?” I prodded.
 

“Is there any truth to it?”

My eyes grew wide and I laughed in disbelief. “What do you mean, is there any truth to it? To this ridiculous rumour? What the hell Robert – you were
 
there! You
know
what happened. Jesus, you’re the only one who does know, the only one who actually can understand that none of this is true.” I didn’t understand what he was even saying. He knew that Martin and I didn’t kill Connie, and then run away together! It was absurd.

“No no,” he said quickly. “I don’t mean that. Obviously I know what happened.” He paused. “I mean, is there any truth to the ‘you and Martin’ rumour?”

“
What?
”

“I mean, you two are strangely close for a teacher and a student.”

“We are not! We’ve only been close these past two weeks — or three months, or however bloody long it’s been, because of the thing that happened with you.” I took another sip of coffee before placing it down beside me.
 

“Really?” Robert didn’t sound convinced.
 

“Really. Otherwise, before all of this happened, our relationship was purely professional.”

He looked at me. Then he looked out over the park again. “Maybe for you,” he muttered.

“Whoa, what does that mean?” I picked my latte back up and began sipping it.
 

“I mean, he seems overly invested in your safety.”

“Ha,” I scoffed. “He left me alone in Newcastle.”

“Only so he could come back here to try and clear your name,” Rob replied, still staring off into the distance.

I took another mouthful of coffee. I needed a much stronger brew to be able to deal with this conversation. I shook my head. “He didn’t even care...”

“Bullshit,” Robert said. “Believe me, I saw how he looked at you when you were in that hospital bed...” he trailed off, and I shut up. I had no idea what to say to that little nugget of information.
 

“And the way he gets so upset with you,” Robert continued on, turning to flash me a look.
 

“What about it?” I shrugged. “He is annoyed with me pretty much 24/7. We’ve always had that kind of a relationship. He didn’t approve of my thesis — still doesn’t — and he never appreciated the way I would question everything he taught in class. He thinks I’m argumentative and annoying. Even more so now that all this has blown up.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit weird though, that he would take everything you say and do so personally?”

I shrugged. “It’s just...”

“It’s because he’s in love with you.” Rob said, firmly.

I almost spat my coffee out. “That is
not
what is going on here...”

“You can believe it or not, but I am telling you: it definitely is.”

***

As we slowly made our way toward the Physics building, all I could think about was what Robert had said. It was crazy! As if Martin Anderson felt that way about me. He was still mourning his dead fiancé, for one thing, I was pretty sure about that. And most of the time he didn’t even seem to like me. “Barely tolerated” would be the term I would use to describe his feelings towards me, most of the time. It certainly wouldn’t be “in love with”, I could tell you that much. As we walked towards Martin’s office I wondered if Robert had any valid basis for his theory: had Martin said something to him? Or was it just wild speculation? He seemed so certain.

“So we’re going to visit Martin?” he asked, looking gloomy.
 

“I don’t expect he’ll even come in today,” I said. “They’ve probably already given his office to someone else. He had one of the biggest rooms in the physics building.”

“What would they have done with all the crap he had in there?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure what had become of any of our stuff. Or our lives for that matter. What happened when a person just disappeared for three months? It’s not like they could just pick up where they left off. At least I didn’t really have much family to worry about me. After all, my father...well, he clearly didn’t care if I was alive or dead. It seemed as if he would have preferred the latter. After all, he must have known the risks associated with time travel. He knew them better than anyone else...

Just as we were about to cross the road which would have led us to the entrance of the Physics Building there was a gasp behind us, then a little scream. I swung around and almost dropped the coffee cup I was still carrying. It was a girl from an undergrad class I had tutored the semester before. Which, in my time line, had only been about a month ago, but she wouldn’t have seen me for over four months, if you were measuring time the normal way. Her name was Naomi and even though I had liked her personally, she was a terrible student, and I had failed her on two of her assignments.

“Anna!” she yelled, in a horrified shriek. Her face was contorted into a mixture of surprise and dread. “We...oh my god. Everyone thought you were dead.”

“Everyone thought I was dead?” I asked, putting my hand on my hip. “I thought everyone thought I had run off to shack up with Martin Anderson.”

“Err...” she said, trying to compose her words, stumbling over them. “Well, I’m not, sure, if anyone...was really...”

I glared at her.

“Okay fine.” She walked over closer to me, examining my face. “That is what everyone thought. That, or that you were dead.”

“So isn’t it great news that she isn’t dead then!” Robert interjected, trying to spin the situation into something positive.

“Oh, yes,” Naomi said. Her red curls spilled up and down her back as she nodded. “I am really glad you’re not.
 
My tutor this term is RUBBISH.”

“Really?” I asked, hopefully. A sudden wave of optimism flooded over me. Maybe I had actually been missed. Maybe we could clear this entire situation up. Maybe my career was still salvageable.

Naomi kept nodding. “Oh yeah. I mean, when you disappeared, and...” She paused, looking unsure about whether or not she should say the next part. “...Connie died. Well, there was no one to teach the tutorials. They had to get any old idiot in to do it.”
 

I realised how desecrated the physics department must have been with Connie, Martin and I all disappearing within 24 hours of each other. I looked up at the four level building next to us, and wondered how it had even survived that kind of upheaval. The morale of the students must have been at an all time low.
 

“Hang on,” I said to Naomi. “What are you doing on campus before 8am? I didn’t think you were...” I stopped myself from completing that sentence off with “a good student.” I ended up going with an only
 
slightly more generous “...very studious.”

“Oh,” Naomi said. “I am now. You know, I failed three subjects last semester?”

I wasn’t surprised at this information.

“My parents cracked the shits. I have to pass everything this semester or they are gonna stop paying my car loan, they said. I don’t really believe they will, actually, but I dunno... with all the changes that happened in the physics department a few months ago, I feel more motivated to work harder, you know? To save the place or something.” She glanced at the building, then down at her shoes, shuffling, somewhat uncomfortably, I thought.
 

There went my theory. Us vacating our spots just made way for a new generation of ruthless academics to take our places. Still, Naomi even turning up to a 2pm class would have been a victory the previous semester, let alone seeing her there before 8am.
 

“So what are you doing back here?” She asked me. “Are you getting your job back?”

I sighed at the phrasing. Getting my job ‘back’. That confirmed that I no longer had it, I supposed. Though I wasn’t sure what other outcome I could have possibly hoped for.
 

“No,” I replied. “Well, I’m not sure actually. I didn’t know what the reaction to me being back was going to be, to be honest.” I looked at her, remembering her scream of delight from earlier. “I guess I do know now though — shrieking.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were okay!” Naomi exclaimed. “Does everyone know you’re alive?”
 

I glanced over at Robert. “Yeah, apparently it’s been quite a big news story.”

“Oh,” Naomi said, shrugging. “I guess I haven’t been out of the lab much for like...well, the last month, really.”
 

Jesus, something really had come over the poor girl. I think her attendance levels at required lab sessions the semester I had taught her had dropped well below the bare minimum 50%.
 

“What are you working on?” I asked, suddenly interested. It must have been quite the project to be keeping her in the physics lab night and day.

“Oh, nothing much,” she said, calmly, shrugging it off. “Just bits and pieces.”

“Right.”

“So,” she said. “Is it true?”

I sighed. “Is what true?” I asked, but I knew perfectly well what she was talking about.

“You and Doctor Anderson.”

“No, it’s not true,” I glanced at Robert and waved my hand, signally that we should get going. “We really have to go,” I said, turning to walk towards the Physics building.
 

“Where are you going? Are you still allowed in there?” Naomi asked.

I turned around. “Of course I’m allowed in there! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Sorry, of course you are, I guess. I mean, anyone can just go in, right?” She said, slightly unsurely. “You don’t have to be a member of staff or a student.”

I huffed slightly and turned to walk away, muttering under my breath. “Not a member of staff or a student. For crying out loud...”
 

***

Once we were safely inside the doors, the cool whiteness of the physics building enveloping us, Robert asked: “Who was she? She’s hot.”

One of my eyebrows shot up. “Really? That’s Naomi Stone. She was my student last semester.”

“Is she single?”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “I thought you were engaged?”

“Yeah, 40 years ago! Imagine what she looks like now.”

“Robert!” I admonished him. “She might have been waiting for you all these years. I mean, think about the reaction I just got from Naomi, and she was just a student I barely knew.” Then I added. “And I was only gone for three months. Don’t you want to see if anyone you knew is still alive? Aren’t you curious?”

Rob just shook his head. “I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t think I want to find out. I don’t want to see what happened to everyone.”

“Hey, what’s your full name again?” I asked, butting in. It occurred to me that I could look up his family behind his back, even if he didn’t want any part of it.
 

“Smith,” he replied.

“Robert Smith?” I repeated, “Like the lead singer of The Cure?”. I supposed he couldn’t have even been familiar with his namesake. But that aside, “Robert Smith” was hardly going to be an easy name to look up. There would have been thousands in Sydney alone. Then again, there wouldn’t have been many that went missing in 1974, never to be seen or heard from ever again.