Madman in Manhattan

by Marianne Hering

  Beth looked over her shoulder.

  Tesla had entered the lobby. Their eyes met. He began to walk quickly toward her.

  Beth decided she couldn’t risk the elevator. She had to get to the roof before he did. She turned the hallway corner toward the stairwell. She paused. There were many floors to climb, and she was already out of breath.

  The service elevator! Beth rushed toward the back of the hallway. She turned right and then right again.

  It’s on this floor! Beth quickly got inside the service elevator. She closed the interior metal folding gate. She pushed the button for floor eight. She knew that floor led to the roof ladder.

  Beth looked through the gate. She saw Tesla round the corner. But he didn’t come toward her. Instead, he opened the utility-room door. Then he closed it and opened it again.

  Beth knew she had a few seconds. Tesla was going to open the door a total of three times. She put her hand on the gold crank. She started to turn it. She went up a couple of floors.

  Suddenly the lights went out. The crank became harder to turn. She was in total darkness.

  Tesla must have gone into the utility room and turned off the electricity! Beth fumed. Oh, he is smart.

  Beth pictured him slowly walking up the stairs. Maybe he was even whistling a merry tune. Tesla would be in no hurry because he knew she was trapped.

  Beth’s heart sank. The elevator was creepy. How long would it be before someone found her?

  “Think, Beth!” she said aloud.

  Hadn’t Tesla said the service elevator wasn’t completely electric? Beth gripped the crank handle tightly. She pushed down on it with all her might. The crank and the elevator started to move.

  As she got the crank going, the turning became easier. She heard something grinding. The system of gears, pulleys, and counterweights was working. Faster and faster she cranked. Faster and faster the elevator rose.

  Then it suddenly stopped with a clank and a thud.

  I must be on floor eight, Beth thought.

  She felt for the metal gate. She found the lever, unlatched it, and opened the cage.

  Then she stepped hesitantly into the darkness. Her foot found the floor. She put her hand on the wall and started walking. The wall helped guide her to the fire-escape landing. She opened the door.

  She felt the autumn breeze as she stepped outside. The afternoon sunshine welcomed her.

  She looked up at the ladder. No Tesla.

  Beth breathed a sigh of relief. She grabbed a metal rung. She barely noticed the cold metal. She stepped onto the ladder and climbed quickly upward.

  As she neared the top, she could see the roof clearly.

  Beth gasped. She was too late. The Model T Imagination Station was gone!

  The Missing Forty-Nine Years

  The modern Imagination Station landed on the roof of the Hotel Marguery.

  Patrick heard pounding. He saw a small hand come down on the windshield.

  “Get out!” Beth shouted. “Get out! Someone stole the Model T Imagination Station!”

  Beth moved to the side of the machine. She yanked the door open.

  She grabbed Patrick’s arm and tugged. “Come on!” she said. “We have to do something!”

  Patrick staggered out onto the roof. He glanced at the city skyline. Then he noted the large object covered with a tarp. He thought it might be a storage unit for the janitor. He saw a dozen pigeons perched on the roof ledge.

  “Patrick!” Beth said.

  He took Beth’s hand. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Where’s Mr. Tesla?”

  Beth looked at him. Her eyes were wide open with shock. “I am not all right. Didn’t you hear what I said? The Imagination Station is missing.” She was breathing hard. “I have no idea where Mr. Tesla is. I think he stole the Imagination Station.”

  Suddenly Beth’s eyes grew even larger. Her pupils shrank with fear. She was staring at something behind Patrick. What was it?

  Patrick turned around. Eugene had stepped out of the Imagination Station. He was standing next to it. His laptop was in his hands.

  “Who is that?” Beth said. “It looks like a wax statue of Eugene. But it melted.”

  Eugene waved. “Greetings,” he said. He shuffled forward.

  Beth rushed toward him and hugged him tight.

  “Mr. Latimer was right,” she said. “You are old.”

  Eugene seemed to totter when she let go of him. She took the laptop and held it under her arm.

  “Do you need to sit down?” she asked.

  “Yes, I believe I must,” Eugene said. He shuffled to a little air-vent hood jutting up from the roof. It was the right height for a seat. He sat on it.

  Beth handed Eugene the laptop. He lifted the cover. Then he opened a few programs and typed on the keyboard.

  “I can’t tell who took the machine,” Eugene said. “The computer shows the Model T Imagination Station is at Wardenclyffe.”

  He keyed in something else. “It’s locked now. No one can use it to leave. Whoever took it will have to exit immediately.”

  Beth sat next to Eugene and held his hand. “I still don’t know how he beat me to the rooftop,” she said. “He must be in great shape. He ran up eight floors faster than I traveled in the elevator. And I had a head start.”

  Patrick sat on the rooftop with his legs crossed. His chin rested on his palm.

  Patrick said to Eugene, “Tell us what happened to you. How did you get out of the Arkansas jail?”

  Eugene coughed. “Well,” he said. “It began on a dark and stormy night.”

  Beth groaned.

  “It really did happen as the result of a storm,” Eugene said. “Rain caused a flash flood. It loosened the ground. The bricks in the jailhouse shifted, opening a crack in the wall.”

  Patrick said, “And you clawed at the bricks with your bare hands. Then you escaped through a hole.”

  Eugene shook his head. “I had to disassemble the metal bed frame first. I used one of the rails as a crowbar and shifted the bricks to produce a hole.”

  Beth added, “And then you escaped through the hole.”

  Eugene shook his head. “I didn’t have the laptop,” he said. “Mr. Pinkerton had it. I needed to wait till Detective Pinkerton trusted me. So I had to replace the bricks and reassemble the bed.”

  Patrick yawned. “Get to the good stuff,” he said. “What did you do after you crawled through the hole?”

  Eugene smiled. “I never crawled through the hole.”

  “What?” Beth asked. “Then how did you escape?”

  “I didn’t,” Eugene said.

  Beth groaned again. “Just tell us how it happened, please,” she said.

  Patrick saw her squeeze Eugene’s hand.

  Eugene sat up straighter. He seemed proud of himself. “I showed the hole to Detective Pinkerton.”

  Patrick was surprised. “That was brave,” he said, “and perhaps not so smart.”

  Eugene smiled again. “Indeed, it was both. But it worked exactly as I had hoped. Detective Pinkerton saw I could be trusted, and he returned the laptop.”

  Beth giggled. “Then you crawled through the hole!” she said.

  “I was set free,” Eugene said. “It was much more satisfying. And I wasn’t a fugitive.”

  Patrick said, “Okay, what happened during the next forty-nine years?” He picked up a pebble. He tossed it gently at a pigeon. The bird flew off.

  “First I worked for the Pinkerton Detective Agency,” he said. “Then I moved to New York and, shall we say, acquired some wealth trading stocks.”

  Patrick said, “You knew which companies would be successful. And you got rich.”

  Eugene nodded. “I kept only the funds I needed to get us home. I gave the rest to charity,” he said. “Next I worked in science labs around the city. Then Nikola Tesla came to America in 1884.”

  “You were aging the whole time,” Beth said. “That’s why you’re so old, and Patrick and I aren’t. For us it’s be
en only a few days.”

  Eugene sighed. “Yes, I am now what might be called elderly,” he said. “But I’m still smart enough to help you.” He released Beth’s hand and patted the computer.

  “I knew when and where you were at all times,” Eugene said. “I was able to keep the computer charged with an adapter I made. It worked with chemical batteries till electricity power became available. Just this month I was able to get the Imagination Stations working.”

  Patrick said to Beth, “The Imagination Stations can move around the world. But they can’t get to a new time yet. We’re stuck in 1923.”

  “Actually,” Eugene said, “they currently can move only through portals I programmed. One of the portals is here on this rooftop.”

  Beth looked confused. “But you have the computer,” she said. “Why do you need Mr. Tesla’s help?”

  “The machines were severely damaged by lightning. I believe that only Mr. Tesla has the answer to completely fixing the machines,” Eugene said. “So I followed him and studied every patent of his. I’ve re-created all his experiments in his abandoned lab called Wardenclyffe. He never knew.”

  Suddenly Patrick heard the beating of wings. A pigeon flew down and landed near the ladder. It started cooing.

  Beth said, “I recognize that bird. It follows Mr. Tesla around.” She hopped up and went to the edge of the roof. She looked down the ladder.

  “It’s Mr. Tesla!” Beth said. She folded her arms across her chest. “And I’m sure he heard every word.”

  Tesla climbed the rest of the way up the ladder. He wore a sheepish expression.

  Eugene stood. Patrick could see he had tears in his eyes.

  “Mr. Tesla,” Eugene said, “it’s an honor to meet such an esteemed inventor. I admire nearly every aspect of your work. The Tesla coil is exceedingly clever.”

  He shuffled toward the scientist. “Please allow me to shake your hand.” Eugene politely offered his right hand.

  Tesla bowed halfway and put his hands behind his back. “Excuse me,” he said. “I cannot shake your hand.”

  Eugene looked crushed. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

  Patrick had never seen Eugene speechless before.

  Eugene finally gained some self-control. “Is it because I was spying on you?” he asked.

  Beth said, “Oh no. He injured his hands not long ago in a laboratory accident.”

  Eugene paled. “Do you need a doctor?” he asked Tesla.

  Patrick saw Beth wink at Eugene.

  Beth added, “Mr. Tesla notes your concern. But he doesn’t need anyone to look at it.”

  Tesla said, “Exactly.”

  “Wait,” Patrick said in a loud, panicked voice. “Something’s not right!”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “If Mr. Tesla is here, who has the car Imagination Station?”

  The Helicopter

  Eugene gulped. “Allow me to check the computer again,” he said. He slowly turned to sit back down on the air-vent hood.

  Beth walked beside Eugene to make sure he didn’t fall.

  Patrick suddenly shouted, “Stop!”

  Beth looked away from Eugene to see what was happening.

  Tesla was rushing toward the modern Imagination Station. “I don’t care about the Model T time machine,” he said. “This one is magnificent!”

  “He’ll steal it!” Beth shouted.

  Tesla opened the door on the side of the machine.

  Patrick was rushing toward the machine. But Beth thought he would be too late. Tesla could get in and push the red button.

  But then the inventor closed the door and opened it again. Tesla’s habit of opening things three times slowed him down.

  That gave Patrick enough time to get to the Imagination Station. He reached out to touch Tesla’s arm.

  Tesla pulled back instantly to avoid being touched. He stepped away from the machine.

  Patrick quickly climbed inside and shut the door.

  Tesla tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. He grunted and tried again.

  Tesla began pounding on the windshield with his fist. “Let me in!” he shouted.

  Beth took Eugene’s arm. “Come on, Eugene,” she said. “Let’s get that machine out of here. Mr. Tesla is too curious.”

  “Excuse me, but what’s going on?”

  Beth recognized Gerald Norman’s voice. She turned. The older boy had come to the rooftop. He had a sketch pad and pencil with him.

  “I’ve come to make the final drawing of Mr. Tesla’s new invention,” Gerald said.

  “A new invention?” Eugene said. “I must see it!”

  Tesla stopped pounding on the Imagination Station. He said, “You want to see my invention?”

  Beth said, “Yes, please! Show it to us.”

  Tesla walked over to the large object covered with a tarp. “Gerald,” he said, “come help me remove the cover. We will unveil it together.”

  Gerald said, “Yes, sir.” He moved toward the object.

  Beth whispered to Eugene, “Get the Imagination Station away from Mr. Tesla.”

  Eugene nodded. “I’ll go back to Wardenclyffe promptly,” he whispered. “The Model T machine must have gone to that portal. I will deal with the thief, whoever it is.”

  The switch went easily. Tesla began taking the tarp off his invention. Patrick got out of the Imagination Station. Eugene got in. He pushed the red button.

  The machine vanished silently.

  Patrick and Beth gathered around Tesla and Gerald.

  “One, two, three!” Tesla said.

  The inventor and Gerald pulled off the tarp.

  “Ta-da!” Tesla said.

  Beth couldn’t believe her eyes. Tesla had built a helicopter. The design was as simple as if it were made from Tinkertoys. There were no doors or windshield. The engine looked similar to the engine of the Model T.

  Patrick said, “Wow! That’s amazing!”

  “It’s really light so it can run on electricity,” Gerald said.

  Tesla looked around. He scowled. “Where is my admirer, Eugene Meltsner?” he asked. “Mr. Latimer said Mr. Meltsner is rich. I want him to invest in my ideas.”

  Patrick stammered, “Well, he, uh, um . . .”

  Gerald was straightforward. “The old man got in the white machine. It vanished.”

  Beth flushed red. Suddenly she felt guilty.

  The inventor narrowed his eyes. “You,” he said. He pointed at Beth. “You tricked me again. The time machine is gone, along with my investor. And my hope.”

  Beth moved toward Tesla. “I’m sorry,” she said. “An inventor’s life is difficult.”

  She tried to cheer him up a little. “Tell me about your new and improved helicopter. Or better yet, show us.”

  Tesla’s mood seemed to lighten. His moustache twitched. “Of course,” he said. “Have a seat.” He motioned with his arm toward the helicopter.

  Beth wanted to climb in. But it looked scary. “There are no seat belts,” she said.

  Tesla smiled, “It’s perfectly safe. It’s a prototype with a new landing system. It will rise only a few hundred feet.”

  Beth looked at Patrick. He said, “Why not? At least it doesn’t shoot death rays or lightning bolts.”

  Tesla must have guessed she was hesitant. “Here,” he said, “I’ll go first.” Tesla climbed in and sat on one of the two seats. He offered Beth a hand to help her climb in.

  Tesla is offering to hold my hand. It must be important, she thought.

  Beth accepted Tesla’s hand. He pulled her into the seat.

  Suddenly there was a flapping of wings. The pigeon settled on Tesla’s shoulder. He said, “Hello, little beauty. I’m going to fly like you!”

  Tesla quickly flipped a lever. The helicopter’s blades began to spin. They made a chopping noise as they sliced through the air.

  Beth felt herself lift. The movement made her stomach flip upside down.

  The helicopter rose and rose and ros
e. The wind made her hair flop with each gust. She looked down. Patrick and Gerald looked tiny.

  The bird on Tesla’s shoulder flew off.

  “You said it didn’t go high,” Beth shouted. “Let’s land.”

  Tesla grinned. “Hang on!” he shouted. “We’re going to Wardenclyffe!”

  Wardenclyffe

  Patrick watched in disbelief as the helicopter flew away. He didn’t know what to do to stop them. Soon Tesla and Beth were too far away to see. He lost sight of them as they flew over a river to the east. He said a prayer asking God to keep Beth safe.

  He turned to the boy Tesla had called Gerald. Patrick offered his hand and said, “I’m Patrick. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Gerald gave Patrick a hearty handshake. “Gerald Norman,” he said. “Uh . . . ah . . .”

  Patrick said, “Yes?”

  Gerald took a deep breath. “How did that white machine vanish? Did it truly disappear?”

  Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what powers it. I just know how to open the door and turn it on. You’ll have to ask Mr. Tesla.”

  “Why ask Mr. Tesla?” Gerald asked. “He’s never built something like that.”

  Patrick smiled. “In a way he built it in his mind,” he said. “He just doesn’t know that he knows how everything fits together.”

  “Like when I learned to read,” Gerald said. “I knew all the letter sounds. But I hadn’t learned how to put the sounds together.”

  “That makes sense,” Patrick said. “But you’d better not tell anyone what you saw.”

  Gerald sighed and said, “No one would believe me if I did. They’d just say I’d been around Tesla too long. He’s known for exaggerating his inventions.”

  Patrick looked over the river again. “Mr. Tesla said he was going to Wardenclyffe,” he said. “Can I take a bus or a subway to get there?”

  Gerald was silent.

  “I said, can I take . . .” Patrick said and turned to look back at his new friend.