by Ilena Holder
“Oh! You think it’s so easy! You don’t even have a key. And furthermore…” Suddenly she stopped, as though she realized how ridiculous she sounded. Her shoulders slumped and she looked at the sidewalk. “Just go ahead and finish your food. I’ll wait.”
Royce was glad she calmed down. Before she walked up, he thought he would get quite some free entertainment watching all these modern people walk about. Their clothing was so strange and their cars so brilliant and quick moving. But he saw at each intersection the cars slid to a stop as a flashing box above the street blinked colors. He wondered what it stood for, but the people driving the cars seemed to know. Cars, for all their futuristic wonder; didn’t travel much faster downtown than a horse and rider in his book.
People walked past him holding little skinny boxes clamped to their ears. Some were listening to them, as he had seen people do with seashells. He wondered what they were hearing; surely it wasn’t the sound of the ocean? Suddenly, they would bark out words into the devices as though they were talking to a person directly in front of them. Strange as it appeared, no one gave them a second look.
He thought he might even chat with the other lady on the bench. It didn’t take him long to finish off his hot dog and the crispy salty things that were in his sack. Donna stood silently while Royce finished his quick meal. She almost had to laugh when she saw how the bubbly drink affected his throat and nose. She knew he was drinking it too fast to let the bubbling sensation go down his throat. She calmed down and saw the ridiculousness of the situation. She knew she was being overprotective of Royce. He was a grown man, quite capable of handling himself in Chicago.
“Go ahead and take your time, Royce. Time is immaterial nowadays.” She sighed. The lady looked at her strangely and then looked away as if she didn’t want to get involved in a lover’s quarrel.
When Royce was finished, he stood and threw his trash in a nearby can. He smiled at Donna and the two of them made their way back to her apartment house.
They rode in elevator and he didn’t experience near the discomfort he had the first two times. Donna unlocked her door and they walked in.
“We need to talk, Royce.”
“About what?”
“About you venturing outside without me. It was dangerous.” She turned toward him, her face furious and her arms crossed.
“Donna, I’m quite capable of going out in public. I don’t need a nursemaid.” He walked back to the window and stared down at the streets below.
She followed him. “It’s not that you aren’t capable of being outside the building alone. It’s just that you’re not used to this place, to the people, to traffic…and just everything.”
Royce continued to stand there peering out the glass. “Donna, I swear you have smoke coming out of your ears.” He laughed.
“Don’t laugh at me! I’m dead serious!” She grabbed his elbow.
Royce turned to face her.
“Alright, alright. If it makes you feel any better, I won’t go anywhere without you right by my side.” Hugging her, he gently kissed her forehead. “And thank you for being so concerned about my safety.”
Stiffening against his hug, she suddenly softened. “It was just scary to see you sitting there talking with strangers.” She began to rub his back. “I picked up some pastries and cream cheese from the coffee shop. I know it’s a bit late for breakfast, but we can have them now and watch a little bit of television before we go to my office.”
She took the box from the bakery and opened it up. “Here, I’ll show you how to use this in case I’m not around and you want to heat up some food.” She placed a muffin on a paper plate and opened up the door to the black metal box on her counter. Punching in ‘22’ and ‘Start’ she showed him how he could watch while the food turned in a circle and a light lit up the inside of the box.
“Be careful, sometimes food with sugar and grease gets extra hot. Another thing, don’t operate it with the door open. I’ll make us some coffee.”
He had been watching through the tiny glass window as the pastries turned inside. He thought the muffin smelled wonderful! Plus the convenience of heating them in the little metal box was fun. He poked the muffin and felt the tingle of warmth on his fingertip. They sat on barstools in her kitchen, spreading cream cheese on their pastries with more of those plastic knives and waiting for the coffee to brew. Donna prepared it in a strange way. She scooped coffee from a can and it was already ground. He thought how Lilly would have scooped the beans from a burlap sack and run them through a hand grinder in the kitchen. She took a small piece of white paper and shoved it down into a machine and snapped a door shut on it. Next she ran water from the tap and dumped it into a type of trough on top. Lastly, she plugged a white rope into the wall and punched a button. A few seconds later, the earthy smell of coffee began filling her kitchen.
“How wonderful! And it was so easy to make!”
“Yes, we have improved a lot of food and drink products. Everybody wants convenience nowadays,” Donna said. “Things have to be pre-chopped, pre-cooked, and pre-washed.”
They sat silently a moment, enjoying their food and looking out the window at the cityscape.
“Why don’t you go wash up and shave and I’ll check my emails? Then we can go to my office,” Donna said.
“Thank you, I would feel better if I freshened up.”
“I’ve got shaving supplies in the bathroom though they might look a little different than what you’re used to. Oh here, I’ll go show you—it’ll be fun.”
They went together to the bathroom and Donna opened a cabinet across from her towel display. She took out various cans and containers and arranged them on the counter. “First off, I guess you’ll want to shave.”
“Aye, that would be a blessing,” Royce said, rubbing his stubbly chin. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you aren’t giving me a shaving brush and mug?” He appraised the toiletries Donna spread around.
“No, nobody has those things anymore unless you’re shopping in an antiques shop.” She picked up a can marked ‘GEL’ and pressed the top to show Royce how to dispense it. “You’ll love this. It guarantees an easy glide.”
“Good!” Royce said.
“As a matter of fact, I think demonstrating the wonderful safety razor will help you out. I’ve never seen a man shave with a straight razor except in old cowboy movies.” Donna handed him a lightweight disposable and pried the safety cover off. “No more of those dangerous straight razors.” Royce examined the thin blade and the yellow hollow handle. “When you’re done with it, you know, when the blade gets dull, you just throw the whole thing in the trash and get another one out of the bag.”
“So, no razor stropping for these?” Royce turned on the tap and ran hot water onto a washrag. Then he wiped it over his face.
“Nope, that’s obsolete. As you can see, it’s plastic.” Donna took a bit of the green gel and lightly stroked it on Royce’s cheek. “Wait, I’ll show you. This is more fun than arguing. I never thought I’d give a man a shaving lesson.” She giggled. Squirting some gel into her hand, she stroked it on her cheeks. Taking another capped razor, she began slow short upward strokes in the mirror. After each stroke, she ran the razor under the tap to remove the gel. Royce watched in amazement. Then he stood next to Donna and began imitating her moves.
“Go slow, I know it’s a strange feeling to you.” Donna finished her cheeks and then stroked the razor over her neck and upper lip. “It feels strange to me too!”
While Royce was finishing his shave, Donna took a large bottle, flipped the cap and squirted some orange liquid into her palm. “This soap doubles as a shampoo and body wash. Smells heavenly, too.” She put her palm out so Royce could sniff it.
“Last is the deodorant. I don’t know if you would like to use roll-on or stick but I have both.”
“Deodorant?”
“Yes, underarm and everyone uses it nowadays. Men and women all smell flowery or powdery or perfumed. You rub this o
n after you wash and towel off.” She demonstrated again with the tube.
“How wonderful. That would be one of the best inventions I think you have in the future. Especially on hot summer days!”
“Yes, science has given us a lot of useful, everyday stuff and frankly, we wouldn’t dream of living without it.”
As Royce studied the small group of cans and bottles she left him, Donna began edging out the door.
“When you’re done, give me a call and we’ll style and dry your hair. No more wet heads in Chicago winters anymore!”
Chapter Thirteen
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Donna said, watching her rear-view mirror. “What do you think of Chicago traffic?”
Royce was sitting, transfixed, watching cars zip by them at horrific speeds.
“Things seem different in the daylight and scarier. Cars go faster than a galloping horse. Do they ever spin off the road?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Sometimes bunches of them tangle up. If you want to see it, we’ll watch the traffic reports on the evening news. By the way, would you enjoy going to a horse race sometime? I could take you to the Chicago race track.”
“The race track? Oh, could we?” Royce asked. He had to admit, Donna handled her car with grace and grit. He wasn’t sure if he could drive the way she did and remain fearless. She pulled off the road into a parking lot by a cluster of buildings. “We’re here.”
Royce breathed a sigh of relief.
“Was my driving that bad?” Donna laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to Chicago traffic after a day or two.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to seeing cars five and six abreast at neck-breaking speeds.” Secretly he was glad they stopped. “It reminded me of pictures of a chariot race I saw one time in a book.”
“That’s a good way to describe Chicago traffic! Well, here’s where I work every day. I need to make an appearance and check up on things since I’ve been gone.” Donna indicated her building with a nod of her head.
“What do you do here?” Royce asked. “And why are we going in through the back staircase?”
“I don’t want anybody to see us, at least not yet.” Donna said.
“Good. I thought perhaps you were ashamed of me for some reason,” Royce laughed.
“If anything, I’d hide you from my girlfriends!” Donna unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “I run a small business incubator. I help women get started in businesses. I help get them bank financing, networking, and set up shop.” She walked over to her fax machine to see if anything was in the tray. “Pretty much everything.” Noticing that her lack of faxes was probably due to the fact that the machine had run out of paper, she inserted some into the slot.
“So more women work outside the home now? I think that’s wonderful! I always thought women were as smart as men anyway, probably smarter. How do they manage a husband and children doing that?” Royce said.
“They place them in day care—you would say a governess or nanny. But daycare is one big place with many children. Anyways, women don’t have so many children. Hardly anybody has twelve children anymore. One or two is more the norm.”
“One or two? That certainly must be easier on women.”
“It is. Bless Margaret Sanger.”
“Who is she?”
“Margaret was the mother of modern birth control.”
“You’ll have to explain that one, Donna.”
“It’s for women of child bearing age. The choice for women to be in control of their family size.”
“Is that humanly possible?”
“With advances in science and medicine, yes it is.”
“I must puzzle over that—it is mind boggling to say the least.” Just then the fax machine ran and he jumped. “What was that?” He watched as a piece of paper began sliding into the tray.
“My backed up faxes. Good.”
Donna went over to her desktop computer and turned it on. Soon, she was clicking away and then printed a one-page sign.
“Here, Royce. Tape this up on the door.” She indicated a tape dispenser near the chair where Royce was sitting.
“What is it?”
“Just a note saying I’ll be shut for a while because of a family problem.”
Royce did as she asked.
“Then I’m emailing the doctor’s office about getting you checked out for cataract removal as fast as we can.” Donna began furiously pounding away on keys.
Royce beamed at her. “How much will this surgery cost?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Fine, I’ll drop that subject. Would you like me to read your, uh, faxes to you?”
“Please do,” Donna said, pausing as if to form a sentence. “They’re usually from business owners and there’s junk in there too about free Disney trips and cheap insurance. You’ll see some are one page and others are multiple ones.”
Royce picked up the top piece of paper and smiled. “I think you’ll like this one.”
“What does it say?” Donna asked absentmindedly.
“It’s from your mother. It reads ‘When are you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?’”
Royce laughed uproariously as he watched Donna’s face darken. “It seems that someone’s been talking, Donna!”
* * * *
“Yes, mother, I’ve got a new boyfriend. Yes, his name is Royce and he’s from Saint Joe.”
Royce watched, bemused as Donna talked to her mother in her cell phone as she called it. He had seen hundreds of people talking into them downtown and was getting used to seeing them glued to everybody’s ears. He didn’t like to intrude into anyone’s private conversations, but all of them, like Donna, just talked away as if they were alone. So he continued eating his fried potatoes. Strange, but women didn’t talk much differently than the ones back in 1865. The restaurant was full of people, most in business clothing. The hour was late, seven o’clock, much later than he would normally have eaten in the past. But Donna explained with the advent of electric lighting, people stayed up until all hours, eating, drinking, working and reading books. All the people there were eating, drinking, and talking, most in subdued tones. There didn’t seem to be any families in there, only single people and couples, perhaps due to the late hour he figured. Donna said she wanted him to enjoy a meal with her in an intimate setting. He was happy to be with her, anywhere, anytime.
The décor was nautical, downright jaunty, he thought. Rope barriers were fastened to the walls dividing the seating areas. A large board filled with macramé knots was at the entrance, and old fishing nets hung from the ceiling. Even the waitresses and waiters wore sailor-themed clothing and smart white caps. Royce smiled and thought most of these young people had never seen the inside of a fishing boat, let alone even baited a hook. But he had to admit the food was mouth watering.
He was used to being inside after dark, with a small amount of time set aside for his scrimshawing or macramé. To tell the truth, he didn’t even have a clock on the wall, his life pretty much revolved around the rising and the setting of the sun. He did have his father’s silver pocket watch in his dresser for safekeeping, though he never used it. It was too fine a piece to carry around for everyday use anyway. The entire Brandenton household was the same way. Life here in the future seemed much more hectic, tense, and sped up. But he could get used to it. The scandalous way the women dressed was upsetting at first. The women in this restaurant were just as bad as the women he saw out in public. It took all the effort he could muster not to stare at them.
He was jarred out of his people-watching by the snap of Donna’s phone.
“Conversation ended.”
“Is she satisfied?”
“Not until she meets you. But I guess Missus Holtzclaw described you well enough that she’s very curious.”
“I’m flattered, I guess.” Royce stretched his legs under the table. “I’m sure we’ll get along.”
“Don’t be so positi
ve. Mother irritates most people.”
“Everybody needs a friend. Why are you at odds with her?”
Donna buttered her roll with enough force to make the roll split in two.
“She’s always been onto me to give her grandchildren.”
“So? What’s wrong with that? That’s entirely natural.” Royce glanced appreciatively up at the waitress who had just brought him his platter of fried smelt.
“Yes, but I’m in no rush. I want to have a life, thank you.”
“How old are you, Donna?” Royce asked, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“I’m twenty-eight, thank you.”
“I am the same age. In my time, a woman would have had quite a large family by that age. As a matter of fact, I know quite a few of that age who are grandmothers.”
“Yes, I know—and that’s all they would have had. I wanted a life and a career.”
Royce dipped chunks of his fish into some white sauce the waitress had brought in a small cup. He’d never had that before; the piquant taste went well with the meal. The little pieces of pickle made it pretty.
“I don’t want to pry and ask you about it. But don’t you feel there is a big void in your life –
being childless and all?” He didn’t want to anger Donna, but he was curious as to all this freedom that women had in the future. Freedom to do what? What about happiness and husbands and nurseries? The thought thrilled him.
“I’ve got a fantastic career, a new car, and a stylish apartment downtown. Isn’t that what every woman wants?” She stared at the uneaten roll on her plate.
“Some things money can’t buy. Can I please have another order of smelt and this cold chopped cabbage? I don’t know what you call it.”
“Its coleslaw and yes; just wave the waitress over here and tell her you’d like another plate,”
Donna said morosely.
Royce buttered another roll and watched Donna curiously.
“Donna, you seem to have everything and nothing at the same time. You said you admired this Sanger woman, what was her name again?”
