The Christmas Eve Letter: A Time Travel Novel by Elyse Douglas Page A

of glass.  She reached for a box of kitchen matches and, just before she struck it, she paused, feeling a fluttering in her stomach and a dry throat.  She sat back on her knees, amazed at herself, because she was not the new-age type, or a believer-in-the-occult type.  But somehow, it seemed like the right thing to do, to perform a kind of personal ceremony honoring two lovers who’d been denied the chance to come together and express their love. 
    She, Eve Sharland, had found the lantern and the letter and this one simple act of lighting the lantern might finally put to rest Evelyn Sharland’s and John Allister’s longing and unrequited love.
    Eve lifted forward, struck the match and watched it blaze.  With perfect concentration, she reverently lit the wick.  To her surprise and delight, the wick took the flame and flared.  Eve closed the open glass window pane and stared, entranced, as the lantern glowed, its light illuminating the room.  Her eyes opened in wonder and satisfaction, her sharpening eyes lowering onto the open letter that lay next to her.
    “Okay, Evelyn and John.  This light is for you.  And John Allister Harringshaw the Second, I am remembering you with kindness and with forgiveness.  Rest forever in peace.”
    Suddenly, Eve felt a cold draft of air blow in.  It startled the candle flames.  They flickered and danced.  Eve wrapped her arms around her chest for warmth, glancing about, trying to locate the source of the draft.  The windows were shut tight and the front door was closed and locked. 
    She felt light-headed—her vision began to blur.  She blinked and wiped her eyes and, when the room seemed to tilt and sway, she placed her hands on the floor to anchor herself.
    Another draft of wind swept in.  She shivered.  It was a cold wind, nothing like anything she’d ever experienced before in this room.  Maybe she had left a window open somewhere.  She tried to push to her feet, but the room shifted and swayed.  Eve dropped hard to the floor.  An earthquake!?
    The room stilled.  Silence.  Dead Silence.  A loud quiet that hurt her ears.  She thought, I must be coming down with some virus .
    When the fireplace began to melt from view, when the walls shimmered with a kind of bluish sparkling light, Eve stared in dazed astonishment.  She looked down and the floor seemed to be dissolving beneath her, swallowing her up.  What was she sitting on?  Another puff of frigid wind tossed her hair. 
    Eve was terrified now.  Her body tensed.  She glanced about, watching the room glitter with bluish light, feeling dizzy and disoriented—she didn’t feel properly anchored in her body.  Then she threw a darting glance toward Georgy Boy.  He had vanished!  She frantically tried to reach for him, but she couldn’t move.  She was a block of stone.
    She snapped a look at the lantern, and her eyes were drawn into its bright, buttery flame.  Yes, the flame.  It had all started when she’d lit the lantern.  It must be that.  The flame.  The light.  Had to be.  She had to put out the light.  Now!
    With great, struggling effort, she got to her hands and knees and reached for the lantern.  It took all her straining effort to lift the pane.  She clumsily reached for the candle snuffer near the candelabra.  In slow motion she struggled and wheezed and finally capped the flame.
    The lantern went dark, gray stringy smoke rising toward the ceiling in twisting curls. 
    Eve flopped backwards, bracing herself with her hands, her breath coming fast. 
    The shimmering lights vanished, the floor felt solid under her, and the room became warm and comfortable.  Georgy Boy was there, gently sleeping, as if nothing had happened.  Eve shifted her gaze to the candles.  The flames were steady and calm.
    Eve swallowed away anxiety.  She stared soberly, not blinking.  What had just happened?  It took all her courage and strength to look at the lantern.  It sat inert and still, an old relic