A. Renee Art

Maddie sat at her desk in her room. Three weeks had passed since she and her friends made that life-changing trip into Painscreek and school was about to start tomorrow. What’s more, she returned home with a souvenir—the tape from the answering machine at Ann’s Inn. She had it copied a few days ago with help from the Shields twins. She never told them what it was and they never asked since she had them copy cassette tapes for her before, including tapes from answering machines. Like those others, they transferred the contents onto a standard cassette tape. Until now, she had hesitated before listening to it again.

Now, she had decided to do so. Fast forwarding through most of it, she stopped and played it, hearing the last message the inn would ever get:

Hello, this is Jacqueline Holcroft. I just wanted to express my gratitude for letting me stay at your inn as long as I could. I was able to find what I was searching for, but time is not only fragile, it’s transparent. It even has a certain rhythm and rhyme to it, like music. I can only hope that the world will see it too, before it’s too late. If someone out there hears this and understands, then we might all stand a chance to be remembered. Farewell.

She replayed the end part of the message.

If someone out there hears this and understands, then we might all stand a chance to be remembered.

Again.

…a chance to be remembered.

Again.

…to be remembered.

Again.

…remembered.

Again.

…remembered.

One last time.

…remember…

She stopped the tape.

“Remember…music…time. A great resetting of time.” She shook with great fear almost hearing in the back of her mind, a subtle swelling of orchestral music. She covered her ears, closed her eyes, and whispered, “No…I—I do…not recognize them. I know where my friends are!”

She straightened up and the music in her head stopped. After taking a few breaths to collect herself, she approached her drawer and closet and pulled out her outfit for her first day of senior year.