We Belong/Back In Time

The Keystone kids awoke from their row walking with the seemingly reformed Randall Flagg. The neon colours of the signs of the centre court at *Maplehurst Mall* came into Heather Jones's vision. Was it all as Flagg had told them where they were back in Autumn 1988? Was everything that was wrong now right? The storefronts selling Fall and Winter clothes seemed to support at least part of that. Heather found herself and her friends also in fall-appropriate clothing.

Quickly the Keystones left to search for answers. As they got used to their thirteen-year-old bodies again. Was everything as near perfect as their uneasy ally Randall Flagg had promised? Ricky JD and Scarlett had waited a while but were eager to check on their parents and guardians. Heather insisted that she’d be okay with Van Hallen who shared a brief kiss with Ricky as he departed. JD, Ricky and Scar had been a great help in saving the day, saving every day, putting right everything, they deserved their hero's reward of seeing their families again. Here they were before any of it had begun. Before Flagg had promised to return them. For a well-earned do-over. As he put it. We’ll put a pin in that New Year's eve 1989 thing. He had said.

“Van Hallen, Don’t You want to go back to your wood? To you’re Mum?”

Heather asked of the Dryad, sat opposite, drinking an Orange Julis at the Food Court.

“We need to find your family. I owe you that much. Then Ricky can reunite me with my Father.”

Van Smiled her disarming smile. Heather had trouble thinking of her by her earth name Daphne.

“I don’t know where to begin the hunt.”

Heather admitted trying to get used to these suddenly new glasses, and the comfortable yet unfamiliar clothes. They felt soft and expensive. The simple black jumper was at least part cashmere.

“Maybe we should go find my friend Mitch or the Good Holter Arkaville? They could help figure this out.”

Heather shook her head at her friend's compassion and enthusiasm

“They deserve to be with their families. In this timeline, I’ll survive.”

Heather assured her friend. Doing her best to remain stoic, as she believed a warrior Queen should.

“After the final battle, it feels like it was so long ago. Lucy Pevensie told me something. Lucy said she is my great Aunt. Her sister Susan is here somewhere I need to find her.”

Van smiled as she heard hope re-enter Heather’s voice

“We could check the phone book?”

Van Hallen was getting used to this world. They had fixed so much in their time with Flagg but Heather had done very little to interfere in her own life. Or at least she thought so.

“I’m going to have to face *Her*. Jannet. My Sis- Cousin. Go back to my Mum and - Aunt and Uncle's house, they had boxes of my parent's stuff in the attic. There might be a lead or a clue in all that”

Van Halen nodded reassuringly

“I’ll drive you.”

The teenage Dryad offered. Pulling out a Van Hallen logo keychain with a Ford blue oval stamped key on it, from her pocket.

“I drive a van now.”

Van Hallen did indeed have a very fine 1969 Ford Econoline Van in the employees' section of the Maple Hurts Mall parking lot. It was painted in stripes like Eddie Van Hallen’s guitar Frankenstrat. Red with white crisscrossed striped and a bigger black stripe over that.

“This is Frankie my Van”

Apparently, in this so far most excellent universe, Van Hallen could drive. So Heather climbed into the passenger seat and they took off through the fall Maryland Streets. They drove in silence apart from *Avalon* by *Roxy Music* on the radio.

They pulled up in front of a familiar house. The site of so much of Heather's past misery. A large red *for sale* sign was upon the lawn *Forcelossed For Sale by Auction on 7th November.* The rest of the small single-family home was shuttered, to prevent previous occupants from returning.

“They’re not here”

Heather walked around the tyre swing she’d lost several baby teeth to was still there. It was the exact same house. Yet no one was here. She felt dejected. Where was her place in this new Garret?

Van Hallen came up and hugged her as a curious-looking wagon car in a golden brown colour screeched to a stop in the street in a cloud of tyre smoke. Its colour was the gold of a familiar lion’s mane. Like her beloved not entirely cowardly Kitty in his prime. Where was Kitty? Had he appeared as his customary studded toy body in this Garrett? Was he on Heather’s bed wherever that was?

“My God there you are Heather, I feared I’d lost you.”

A cut-glass British voice exclaimed in both relief and exasperation. It was a voice that matched the vehicle, dignified. Yet equally no-nonsense.

“You left your Pager on the Breakfast bar, on your way out to the Mall.”

What thirteen year old had a pager? Apparently this one.

A well put together woman of five foot eight hurried over the unkempt lawn to Heather. As sure-footed as a mountain goat in her high heels. She looked like that British Actress Dina Rigg with short chin-length well maintained dark brown hair. She was wearing a pencil skirt blouse and a tailored jacket with a large broach on it. Her make-up was light, and she wore stud earrings. Heather had seen her face before in a dream. A Dream of another 1979. She had not aged a day.

“Susan? Is that you?”

Heather almost fell to her knees. Yet Van Hallen was there to prop her up and suddenly this older woman had taken her in her surprisingly strong arms until Heather regained equilibrium. Then found that she was grasping a box a little smaller than a walkman now with a small display on it. A Beeper. The sort that doctors and important business people had. She’d taken it from Susan’s hand on instinct because it was her pager. Heather clipped it to her jeans watch pocket.

“My darling girl, who else would I be?”

There was not a single trace of doubt in Susan’s voice

“It seems you’re expressing the same memory problem as much of the rest of the town. They all seem to recall two separate, often vastly different, sets of events I’ve gathered them at the Manor. So we can get all of this sorted out. Daphne, would you care to join us?”

This was the right Garret. It was just as Flagg had vowed. It was nearly perfect here. Here was her *Great Aunt*, she had found Her.

Van Halen nodded, seemingly in the know about where this Manor place was. Also, Susan knew Van’s name on earth.

“I had … had, a dream, of 1979. You came to get me … when I needed you the most”

Heather stuttered, beginning to weep.

“That’s because it really happened, I am always here when you need me.”

Susan offered Heather a monogrammed linen handkerchief that had the MacCloud clan crest of a Bull's Head embroidered upon it. How did Heather know this? Susan handkerchief-less valiantly fought back a tear herself.

“How … How long have I known you?”

Heather stuttered as she was escorted back to the Waggon, between her *Great Aunt* and Van Halen. She notices the spirit of ecstasy on top of the radiator. It was a Rolls Royce, Susan’s, her Great Aunt’s Rolls Royce. The Memories of this new timeline were slowly coming back, as anticipated.

“You’re whole life, my dear great-niece. I adopted you after you … lost your parents … nine years ago.”

Susan explained very matter of factly. It added up. Susan's indomitable tone did waver at the part about Heather’s parents. Perishing in an accident like her own, many years before. Susan was seemingly having no trouble at all telling the difference between the two distinct timelines. Well, she had been to at least one other universe regularly in her girlhood. Heather thought out of nowhere that Aunt Susan had a very firm sense of self, it was a trait shared among the Pevensie women. Then Heather wondered where that thought had originated from.

“I’m sure you’ll regain more of your memory when we get you home. You write extensive journals and they may be a help.”

Heather was eased into the passenger seat of the opulent car.

“What’s this Manor place?”

Heather enquired. Did they live in a grand country house? They had money clearly, the car, the pager. The clothes.

“You probably know it as *Queen Lake Manor*. We live there.”

The tumbledown old house beyond the Lewis place, that was owned by the Loop, or at least had been and was therefore off-limits? Yes, that was Queen Lake Manor, or at least what people who had lived in town for some time, called it.

“Van, is this a dream?”

Heather gasps

The Dryad just smiles and shakes her head knowingly. Clasping Heather’s hand before closing the car door as she walked off to her Van.

“You know this is real Heather, we’re children of two worlds. We know these things.”

Van Halen assured her friend.

“At least that’s unchanged my dear, you always dreamed vividly.”

Susan assured.

Here she was with Queen Lucy’s missing sister. Not missing at all, in this new Garrett that them working with the formerly odious Flagg had created. It was just like the dream Heather had some time ago. She’d seen Susan at the Portofino Hotel in Los Angeles. Seen her take the call from the Police about her parent's death and Susan had rushed to be with Heather’s four-year-old self. This must be that same world. A world imagined in a dream. Now quite real.

Susan grabbed a tape from the centre console, putting it in the deck. Heather caught sight of the writing on the mixtape; it was her own. Yet she didn’t recall writing those track names and artists. *Colour in Your Life* by *Missing Persons* blared out of the speakers of the Rolls. As Susan flipped the car around with deft ease and they headed north out of town. Much slower than before. Heather thought from seeing them on TV and in Movies Rolls Royces were designed for luxury not making tire smoke. In the dream, Susan drove very well. Taking parfait in road rallies. That was clearly another true fact. Van Hallen could be seen keeping pace in her distinctive van in the mirrors.

“Let's go Home then”

This was all Heather had dared to dream of. A home where she was safe and happy. Her family had found her, in this timeline before she’d even met her friends.

The Rolls took to a paved driveway that hadn’t been next to the Lewis place before. It had been an overgrown mostly unused farmers' track. Now it was a wide area of perfectly even blacktop, which seems as if it could be driven at some speed. Like Batman leaving the Batcave. There were well maintained drained ditches on either side and shiny cattle grids that the Rolls nearly judders over when crossing. Then they arrived at a Farmyard that looked to be organised with Military precision. A lot of cars were parked by one of the buildings. It looked like half the town. Familiar vehicles. Miss Maggie’s vibrant Ford Econoline The Spirit of 1969 was over there. Here was Chief Blake’s departmental Chevy Blazer. Other vehicles she swore she knew the owners of new Chevrolets and a clearly doted on Pontiac.

Beyond the Yard, the other side of a formal looking garden was a house built Heather thought about 1890 in The Queen Anne Style. It looked like it had come straight out of England. Like her Aunt and the car, they were in. The place looked far too big for just two people. There was plenty of room for friends, Heather, though. Always another place setting for dinner for a friend or someone in need. Yes, that was right. She thought to herself.

“Just the two of us, live here?”

Heather asked

“You and I have a lot of books, Heather dear. So we purchased the only home in Garrett with its own Library. Diggory bequeathed me quite the collection, and I’ve only added to it.”

The Library, that sparked a vivid memory. A flash of recollection. All the hours she spent in this two-story high Oak panelled room. A room that should be chilly, but was always the perfect temperature. Sixty-five degrees is the perfect temperature to store old rare books. The Books and the music Heather enjoyed in this room, the worlds contained within that she had experienced for the first time. The trusted friends she brought back to her favourite place. The games they played like Dungeons and Dragons, on the huge sturdy study table in the centre of the room with the leather top. Building sheet and pillow forts beneath it, when she was younger. Being coaxed out of the library to bed by Susan with cocoa. Studying for exams in the quiet serenity. This was it. This was home. The two Queens of Narnia at Queen Lake Manor.

Heather was speechless.

“You do remember, don't you? Our lives. How much we care for one another?”

Susan had an oddly emotional quality to her voice. It felt so strange to notice the subtle nuances in someone's voice, yet for this to also feel like the first day they had met

“Yes, Aunty. I'm starting to remember. I’m so sorry I forgot.”

Susan clasped Heather’s hand in hers. Heather even remembered which ring was Grandma Helen’s engagement ring, and the wedding band that Great Uncle Percy had given her. They were both dead, or at least Uncle Percy was. Great Grandma Helen was supposed to be in Narnia.

“You don’t need to apologise. Not to me. From what I can recollect, from the other timeline. We have a good life now. Even if we have far too many familial losses to count. We have each other.”

They were together now and always had been, always would be. They were stronger together. People said that the Pevensie woman was an indomitable force of nature. They were not wrong.

With Van Hallan, who had waited patiently and already seemed like she knew where she was going. They crossed the kitchen garden, past the rose garden, The orangery, glasshouses, and the hedge maze, where Heather and her friends played hide and seek, and in through the large castle-like double doors to the front of the Manor that faced north of the Lake, which the house bore the name of.

It felt so right. The formal drawing-room was full of the great and good of Garrett. So many familiar faces. Even people she had never met before, she could recall the names of, this was odd. The quiet hubbub of conversation and everyone tried to get to know the new version of their closest friends and family. Susan kissed her on the cheek and broke off to greet newcomers and ensured they were fed and watered.

Here were Scarlett JD and Ricky, already ferried here by their parents. As if part of some efficient emergeny protocol. It had been but a few hours since the five of them parted, at the Mall. Heather hugged them as if it had been many years.

“Welcome to Queen Lake Manor, this … is my home.”

Heather tried to sound as welcoming as possible, through tears of joy.