Page 87 of Shifting Years
Above the fireplace, on the white stone wall, rested photos. Most humans didn't come in, so nobody would suspect two men who aged too slowly through the decades.
A faded color one had us on stage in the early eighties with thousands of men and women in San Francisco. I repeated his voice with a serious, military inflection. "I'm Todd, and I love another man named Mike… because he's amazing."
"I didn't say the last part." My Alpha paused. "I should have."
"I heard what you didn't say." The man who hid from everyone, including himself, opened up to a crowd. To the cheers of all, except the Anita Bryant protesters, he kissed me. Then we left, so the next couple could tell their story.
Other photos were reminders. Todd was smart with money, and we helped shelters that shouldn't have to exist but did. Gay kids got a roof over their heads while they figured things out.
Sally, the bartender who was kind to a confused kid, got seed money for an upscale pub in New York. A male couple who explained love and life to a young Omega aged a decade before we slipped out of their lives. In secret, we were an unknown 'angel' investor when they bought a bed and breakfast in Vermont. Amazingly, it was in Todd's old hometown.
A shared friend opened an art and photography gallery. Thousands of photos and a hundred paintings came from his 'walkabout' after Vietnam. More followed once his spirit healed. Bobby's the only one we can still see, and that time will end soon.
"There aren't many left from the eighties…" My voice cracked. "Doesn't seem fair, does it? We lived and others didn't."
"People die," said Todd. There was no cruelness in his tone. The man saw more death than I did. Squad members, fellow POWs, friends who died of a 'gay flu', and a cruel parent. For all my power, I never found anything besides time to dull his pain.
A gravel crunch alerted us to the mail delivery, and I left, but not before running soft fingers over his chest. He'd be in the past for a bit.
Thankfully, our mail carrier was a shifter, so the magic of Whispering Hill's forgetfulness didn't affect our deliveries. Between bills laid a thick envelope from Kim and Jack. I handed it to Todd, and he swallowed. The first domino tipped, and others would fall.
Like so many times before, we laid the photos out on the table. Kim and Jack both had their bright red mohawks, and I had to admit, itdidlook good on him. Pictures showed two men at an equal number of country and punk bars. Kim even had a cowboy hat in one, aiming finger guns at the camera. Ticket stubs were from events in different music genres. All split down the middle to be fair to the other.
We picked photos and tickets that felt right, gluing them to the last page of a heavy scrapbook, already bursting with other paper memories. Mild electricity pulsed back, and the book slammed closed.
Todd didn't turn around, but his voice remained steady. "Hello, ladies." The air changed, colder, heavier. Goosebumps ran over my skin, and they wouldn't leave until the witches did.
We turned and as they looked decades back was a tall Hollywood-glamorous redhead. Today she had a sparkly beige outfit. At her side, Dawn had her dark hair pulled back. The heavy book flew to them and they each placed a hand on the scrapbook. Their shoulders rose, and their expressions softened, like someone savoring the last bite of a perfect meal.
"Ask," they said together.
Todd swallowed. "I…"
"We will give you a gift, for you'll have pain soon," said Dawn.
"So, I'm going to pick Donna?"
"You will," said Tina before her voice softened. "You were not to blame for her injuries or choices in her life."
"But I don't have any other power." Todd gestured to me. "My man knows what people need. Mary can't be poisoned. Our governor sees—"
"Donna and other humans affected their reality, not you," said Tina. "You believe you wished for events to happen, and you are dangerously close to making it a reality. The consequences of a continued belief would be disastrous, and we must correct you." The tall redhead pointed a slow finger at Todd. "Your mate's gift is knowing what people need. Yours? Being the one they need."
"Sometimes," said Dawn, "the most powerful ability is unnoticeable, but you have power."
"To be needed?" said Todd. "That's it?"
"Yes," said Dawn. "For those with problems, you are the magic they require in their lives."
Both women gestured to the book filled with paper mementos. Other books from decades past appeared and opened to random stories. Tiny, rotating portals hovered in the air.
Dawn pointed to a dark-skinned Omega with red hair. "Without advice from an older Alpha who served in battle, he would have left and killed his mate with loneliness."
Tina pointed to a community center in San Francisco. "Without funds, it would have closed and helped no young souls." She didn't need to finish for us to imagine homeless kids. Portals opened and flashed too quickly to see, yet we knew. Some died, others lived with no mate, but everyone was worse off in alternate timelines that thankfully never happened.
Dawn didn't touch me, but I felt soft fingertips along my jaw. "You wanted to change the world and did. One shifter and human at a time. Your experiences touched lives, who touched others, who touched more, and so on. Ripples throughout the world, Michael. People you don't know are indebted to you both."
I swallowed hard. The spirit of the sixties lived through two wolves.
