Time and Technicalities (Timewalkers Book 1)

by RP Halliway

  “This is amazing,” Silas said, walking corner to corner on one side of the display.

  “Really amazing,” Evie echoed.

  “Thanks,” Ceril said, his voice full of pride.

  “This must have taken years,” Evie said, walking to the far side of the platform to get a better view.

  “Many years, you are correct,” Ceril said, “But it was worth it.”

  “You should advertise this,” Evie said, genuinely impressed with the craftsmanship and details presented.

  “I will when I feel it’s ready. I have a few more things to finish up.”

  Silas and Evie walked around the raised platform, looking at the detail, and Ceril handed them a small folded paper. “Here is the timeline of the battles.”

  Matching the numbering system from the brochure to the platform, the trio walked through the battles from the beginning to the end.

  “Sherman’s March to the Sea,” Ceril said, lifting a small blue piece of plastic from the map of Georgia, to show Silas and Evie, and then replacing it on the tabletop. “Almost to scale.”

  “Wow,” Silas muttered. “It never occurred to me that it was that wide.”

  “More than fifty miles wide in places,” Ceril informed them, pointing to the plastic overlay. “Enough to destroy all supplies along the way and severely impact the ability of the Georgians to wage war.”

  Silas and Evie marveled at the immersive feeling provided by this platform, and by the care and knowledge of the caretaker. It was almost surreal, and Silas found no words at the sheer awesomeness of it.

  “This is really unbelievable,” Silas finally managed to say.

  After much longer than expected, the couple finished the walk-through and headed toward the door.

  “That has to be the best museum experience I have ever had,” Silas said, He was interested in the Civil War but had never been able to appreciate it in such a way before.

  “Me too,” Evie said. She reached out to shake Ceril’s hand. “Thank you so much for the tour.”

  “My pleasure,” Ceril said, shaking hands with Evie and then Silas. “You have been the best guests in a long while to my humble museum.”

  “Don’t give up on it,” Evie said, “I think many people would love to see your display.”

  “Thanks,” Ceril said, digging into his pocket. He pulled out 8 quarters and offered them to Silas. “I saw you buy a drink at lunch. Buy another or just take the money for the first one.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “Please take it. You made my day by showing such appreciation for the museum.”

  Evie shot Silas a glance that told him to honor the man and take the money. “Thank you very much,” Silas said.

  “We should get going,” Evie said, checking her phone.

  “Going far?” Ceril asked. “I mean . . . I don’t mean to pry.”

  “It isn’t prying,” Silas said. “We’re headed up Boston-way, and I was actually wondering about the roads and traffic.”

  Ceril checked the time. “I think the major cities will be easy to avoid.” He pulled out a notepad and drew a map. “If you take this path you should avoid most of the evening rush-hour traffic along the way.”

  Silas took the hand-drawn map. “Thanks again for all the help.”

  Ceril smiled brightly and escorted them to the parking lot, and then walked back through the front door of the museum.

  Silas heard the hinges creak again and smiled. He walked over to the vending machine and used the 8 quarters to buy another drink, satisfied that the man’s gift would be returned with the purchase.

  “You ready?” he asked Evie as they approached the car.

  “Yep. All set for the drive,” she replied.

  “That was the perfect afternoon,” he said, settling in the seat and looking at Evie.

  “Yes it was. Good food and good people.”

  ***

  The evening sun started to dip low as Evie and Silas entered Massachusetts.

  “Time to call Postice?” Evie asked. She’d tried to put out of her mind that she’d have to talk to the cranky old man.

  “There’s no getting out of it,” Silas said. They’d come this far.

  Evie nodded and dialed the number.

  “Hello?” the gruff voice responded after the second ring.

  “Mr. Postice, hi. This is Evie.”

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “Oh, no. Mr. Postice,” she answered, a bit confused as to the nature of the question. “We have just passed into Massachusetts and are calling to inform you.”

  “Just now? You should have been here hours ago!”

  “We stopped for lunch and a museum tour.”

  “Not necessary! I expected you hours ago.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Postice,” she said. “I wasn’t aware that you had an expected arrival time.”

  “I figured ten hours for the trip,” Postice said, ignoring the apology. “And that was generous by giving time for a few stops.”

  “I hope it isn’t too late,” Silas said, trying to take the pressure off Evie.

  “You are already late! Head to Pine Lake. Marlborough. Call me when you get there.”

  “We will,” Evie said. “Sorry again.” She wasn’t sure when the call ended, but it was over by the time she looked at her phone screen. “Yikes,” she said, a bit flustered.

  “Yeah,” Silas said. “Old people. Rich people. So demanding.”

  Evie plugged the information into the GPS, and the most direct route took over.

  The pair rode in silence, still a bit shocked at the reaction by Postice.

  “Marlborough,” Evie announced, as the GPS also declared their destination has been reached. And she dialed the number again.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mr. Postice,” Evie said, trying to sound natural. “We just reached Marlborough.”

  “Good! Follow my directions.”

  Postice started giving directions to Evie, who relayed them to Silas.

  “Now follow this road for the next ten minutes, and look for the green house on the left,” Postice said, after dictating their moves for the last four minutes.

  “Got it,” Evie said.

  “Good,” Postice said. Then nothing. Evie looked at the phone and saw the call had ended.

  “Wow. Such personality.”

  “No argument there,” Silas said.

  The green house appeared after the predicted ten minutes. “There it is.” Evie pointed to a house on the left.

  “Doesn’t look too mansion-y,” Silas said. “Just a regular house.”

  “I agree. Looks more upper class than rich of any kind.”

  “Look for a driveway, or something,” Silas said, as the house grew closer and the shadows grew longer with the closing of daylight.

  “There,” Evie said, pointing toward a small paved entryway.

  He turned onto the narrow paved driveway in the middle of a small stand of trees, and then the driveway opened up into a larger circle, as well as a direct path to a garage. He found a spot off to the side and turned off the car. No welcoming committee greeted them, like there had been at Roger’s.

  “Guess we should get out,” he said after a few seconds, then unbuckled his seatbelt.

  She followed suit and the pair got out of the car to stretch. They looked around, but still nobody appeared. Evie brought up her phone to call Postice again when the front door of the house opened, and a withered looking man stood glaring at them from the stoop.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Postice said. “Come up! Come up!”

  Silas grabbed Evie’s hand and escorted her up the small cement stairway to the front door to where Postice stood.

  He guessed Postice was probably a tad over six feet tall when yo
unger, but now stood, maybe five-eight with a pronounced slouch. He wore a dark brown fedora which covered an unruly mat of gray hair, along with a similarly colored tweed jacket, and had a large cane with a rounded handle and well-worn footpad.

  Postice used the cane to direct the couple to the small veranda just off the steps, and shuffled slowly after them.

  “Sit!” Postice said, as they set foot on the veranda. He waved his cane toward two chairs on the far side. The cane rose just off the floor and managed a forty-five degree angle toward each chair. The couple obliged, sinking into the two deck chairs, surprisingly comfortable, with thick foam seat cushions. Postice shuffled after them, and took a seat in a plush rocking chair near the rail. He rocked for a few moments, then stopped and leaned forward.

  “You are Evie?” Postice asked, half pointing at Evie with the cane. “And you are Silas?” the cane followed.

  “Yes,” Evie said, feeling her stomach tense up.

  “Good.” Postice seemed to make a mental note of some unique characteristics, even though their difference in appearance, and specifically in the genders, was readily apparent.

  Postice looked at them for what seemed like a long while, at least to Evie, and then he finally seemed to soften. “Have you eaten?” Postice asked, still mustering the gruff voice from the phone.

  “We had lunch,” Silas said.

  “Good,” Postice replied, almost expecting that to be filling enough for the day. “Need to use the restroom?” Postice again queried with the gruff voice, almost as if the pleasantries offered were non-essential interruptions he wished to get over with.

  “We stopped for gas just before calling you, and I’m good,” Silas said, looking to Evie.

  “I’m good too. Thanks,” she replied, with a smile and nod.

  “Good.” There was a tense silence as Postice again paused to take an assessment of the situation, trying to make sure not to miss anything.

  “You know Roger?” Postice finally broke the silence.

  “We talked to him for the last couple days,” Silas said.

  “What do you think of him?” Postice asked. It almost sounded like a demand.

  “In what way?” Evie asked.

  “Any way! Impressions!”

  “He is interesting,” Silas said. “But a lot of what he said went over my head to be honest.”

  “And you?” Postice half pointed the cane at Evie.

  “I like him,” Evie said, knowing her nervous trembles were visible. “He is very hospitable and interested in the people he talks to.”

  “Hmmphh,” Postice replied, digesting their answers. “What is your background?” Postice asked, raising the cane slightly to point toward Silas.

  “I work in construction. Or at least I think I still do.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I had to take off work to come here. And I might not have the same job when I get back.”

  “I see.” Postice seemed to accept the answer. “And you?” The cane moved toward Evie.

  “I work in data analysis,” Evie said.

  “Good at it?”

  “I guess?” Evie said, hesitating for a couple seconds. “The computer does all the work, to be honest.”

  Silas and Evie couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a small crack of a smile appeared on the old man’s face. The trio sat in silence for a very long minute as Postice seemed to digest and process their presence.

  “I am a bit disappointed in your backgrounds,” Postice finally said, shaking his head. “I was hoping for a detailed analysis of Roger’s thesis.” The man stamped the cane on the ground to vent his frustration. “I don’t understand how people with your qualifications would end up discussing theories with Roger.”

  “Sorry?” Evie said, not sure why she felt like that needed an apology.

  “Not your fault, I guess,” Postice said, softening a bit. “Wentworth!” he shouted into the house.

  “Yes, Sir?” A man appeared out the double doors, wearing a black butler uniform—or what Silas assumed the uniform of a butler should look like.

  “Bring some refreshments for our guests. We’ll take them out here.”

  “Very good, sir.” Wentworth disappeared behind the double doors.

  “Oh, we don’t really need anything,” Silas said, hoping to not impose any more on the old man.

  “Hogwash!” Postice waved his cane. “You traveled all day.”

  There was a tense pause in the conversation, as Postice seemed to wait for Wentworth to return with the refreshments. Postice passed the time by looking over the veranda at the small wildlife area behind the house, now lit by some deliberately placed lights, ignoring the two guests, nervously sitting there.

  “Refreshments, sir,” Wentworth announced, finally arriving—or so it seemed to the two young people feeling very out of their comfort zones and not sure how to endure all of the silence.

  “Very good Wentworth,” Postice said. “Make arrangements for . . . two . . .?” Postice said, returning his look toward the couple.

  Silas interpreted his question and gave a slight nod.

  “Two rooms at the Plaza.”

  “Very good sir,” Wentworth said, backing off the veranda and pulling the double doors closed behind him.

  “Don’t go to any trouble on our account,” Evie said, trying to catch Wentworth before he left.

  “Nonsense,” Postice said. “I invited you, and I will take care of you.”

  “Thank you,” Silas said.

  “No trouble,” Postice said, and waved the cane toward the tray of refreshments Wentworth placed on the table moments ago.

  Not wanting to be rude, Silas and Evie both took small portions of the finger foods, and a small glass of what looked like lemonade. Postice waited for the couple to finish their refreshments, watching them occasionally, but mostly taking in the nature sights from his precisely placed chair.

  “I sit here most evenings,” Postice said softly, not really expecting a reply. “It’s my peace.”

  “It is nice,” Silas said, not sure if Postice expected a reply.

  “You.” Postice narrowed his eyes at Evie. “How did you find out about Roger?”

  Evie sat up in the chair, and exchanged a quick glance with Silas. “We got his name from Professor Andrews at the university.”

  “Andrews?” Postice now seemed angry again, leaning forward with his weight on the cane. “What business have you with Andrews?”

  “From a dream.” Silas said the first thing that occurred to him.

  “A dream? Hogwash!” Postice shouted at Silas as the color drained from his face. “It can’t be!” He met Silas’ eyes with a look of anger and terror.

  “It’s true, sir,” Evie said, almost fearful of the man’s response. “We both had a dream.”

  Postice looked at Evie, placing both hands on the cane. It shook visibly in his hands. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the back of his hands, as if to pray, and stayed in that position for a long time.

  “Dreams bring nothing but sorrow,” he finally said softly, almost tearfully, not looking up.

  The moment ended abruptly as Wentworth emerged from the double doors. “The arrangements have been made sir.”

  “Thank you, Wentworth. The time?” Postice asked, looking up at the butler.

  “Almost seven thirty, sir,” Wentworth replied and backed out again, closing the double doors.

  A silence settled on the veranda, with Silas and Evie afraid to even reach for more refreshments. Postice sat still, looking at nothing, with visible thoughts churning manically through his mind, the cane still shaking in his hands.

  “We can come back another time,” Silas finally said, sensing something was troubling the man.

  “I must hear your story,” Postice said in a softened gruff voice,
almost pleading with some trembling.

  “We can come back tomorrow,” Evie said, picking up on the same feelings Silas had

  “If you are tired, you may leave,” Postice said, leaning back to take in the view again, deliberately not looking towards Evie and Silas. “But I will hear your story!” With a weak stamp of the cane, he shifted his intense gaze to stare directly at Silas and Evie.

  “It’s probably better if we rest up,” Silas said. “It has been a long day for us.”

  Postice nodded to Silas and looked over at Evie. “Tomorrow!” he said. “Don’t sleep late.”

  “We won’t,” Evie said. She wouldn’t dare.

  “Good! I will have breakfast waiting.”

  Silas stood and helped Evie up. He positioned himself between the old man and Evie, using his hand on the small of her back to guide her along a safe path away from Postice. Silas didn’t know what danger the old man could pose, but wanted to be sure nothing happened and that there was a clear path of egress for both of them.

  The old man didn’t move as the young couple walked off the veranda and to the parked car, his gaze shifting between the now emptiness of the two chairs on the veranda and the nature view beyond.

  Evie’s phone lit up with a notification. Wentworth had sent the reservation info and the directions to the hotel directly to her phone.

  They rode in silence for a short while. “That was weird, right?” Evie asked, finally composing herself after the interaction.

  “Totally!” Silas replied. “That was a crazy reaction to our dream.”

  “Not even the dream. Just the mention of it being a dream. We never even told the dream.”

  “Right. Something is troubling him.”

  “Do you think he’s dangerous?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. But maybe Roger will have some insight.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Evie dialed the number, and Roger answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Roger. It’s Evie. We are doing fine, but I have a question. Silas and I were just meeting with Mr. Postice, and he asked how we knew you, and then Andrews. When Silas answered that it was from a dream, Postice freaked out. Do you know why he’d do that? Or if we should be worried?”

  Roger thought for a moment. “I haven’t talked to Postice in a few years before last night, but there’s nothing that I’m aware of that would be dangerous about him, except that he is an eccentric old man.”