Storm Portal

by Michael R. Stern

  “Mr. President, I'm doing the best I can. I just haven't had any time to work this out. Believe me, I don't like not being able to anticipate where my classroom will be. I don't want any more problems with you, or with George, and I don't want to endanger my kids most of all. It's bad enough having to lie to them.”

  “Fritz,” said the president, calling me by my first name for the first time, “I wish I had something I could tell you to put your mind at ease. I don't yet, but let's keep in touch. If you do find something, let me know.”

  “Of course, Mr. President.”

  “Then, goodbye for now. I'm sure you know that I have a bit of a crisis, in Eledoria and in Jerusalem right now.” He disconnected before I could respond.

  “That was quick,” said Ashley.

  “I hope I made my point with him. Hopefully, he won't think I'm trying to hurt him.”

  “I think he expects you to try to figure this out, Fritz,” said Linda. “I wonder what they found.”

  * * *

  LILY EVANS CALLED to say Jim Koppler wanted to come up from his office. The president said to send him in when he got there.

  “What's on your mind?” The president's response was crisp, not inviting.

  “This.” He showed the president a newspaper. “Mr. President, there is a report that you visited the school. The White House press is asking how that could have happened. There's no record of your leaving here.”

  “Jim, you are aware that there are other ways out of this cage, I assume? The press reports what they think they know, or what we tell them. So where I am is where they think I am, or where I want them to know I am. Do you honestly think that it makes sense to hide that I was in New Jersey when all the evidence says I was? Don't make this a public debate.”

  “Mr. President, I have to protest. The press has sources, you know that. You're having been in New Jersey is the least of it.”

  “And I have a list of people who know, Mr. Koppler.” The president's responded sharply. “And I have the resources to find out where any story comes from. I want you to drop it.”

  “Mr. President, that's just not a good idea.”

  “If you'll excuse me now, Jim. I am a little busy.” He was gritting his teeth again.

  “Yes, sir.” When his advisor left, the president took a deep breath, made a note, and returned to his report.

  * * *

  MY PHONE RANG AGAIN. “Hi George,” I said. “What's up?”

  “Fritz, Lois and I have been discussing our little problem. How about changing your classroom for now. Maybe that would help.”

  “I appreciate that, George. Can I make a suggestion?” I asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  I told him that each time we traveled the door gave me a mild shock. I suggested that I could keep the kids safe if there were an empty room I could move them to. “I need my classroom to figure this out, George, and all my teaching materials and wall hangings are there. But if the buzzing opens the portal, a different room should be fine. I can just herd them down the hall.”

  “Well,” said George, “we have some vacant rooms in the old wing. I'll fix one of them for you, or if it's a nice day, you could take your class outside.”

  “Thanks, George. Let me know when the room is ready. Say hi to Lois.”

  Nice days? “George suggested a different classroom, or going outside if it's nice out, but the portal opened when it was stormy.”

  Following my thoughts, Linda said, “If thunderstorms start the process and you're the connection, then any door, anywhere, could be a portal if the paperclips and books were set up. If you get a shock from a different doorknob, then what?”

  “Then I'm in trouble,” I said. “It could happen anytime, anywhere. But I think it has to do with my classroom.”

  ALTHOUGH MY CLASS routine followed my accustomed plan, my students' new attentiveness deviated from past experience. During the week, quite a few teachers expressed their interest in participating in any new traveling. They all suggested what they thought would be good subjects to cover, including Einstein, Benjamin Franklin, Harriet Tubman, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Marie Curie, F. D. R, Rosa Parks, and Jane Austen. The physics teacher, who happened to speak Italian, wanted to visit Galileo at the Leaning Tower. Each teacher I spoke with told me how exhilarated their students had become. I wondered if there was more to the electrical charge than just what I felt through my fingertips. At the end of the week, George came to me and said the alternative classroom was set up and ready to use if I needed it. I thanked him, but I wondered why he was so efficient at some times when he was often such a ditherer. By Friday afternoon, I had to remind myself it had only been a week since the adventures had occurred.

  Ashley stopped by at the end of eighth period. “Want to play a round tomorrow? Supposed to rain on Sunday.”

  “You know, Ash, I haven't thought about exercise since we last played basketball. You know how that went. I'll talk to Linda and let you know.”

  “Talk to you later then,” said Ashley.

  Friday afternoon. Quiet. Maybe I'll have a chance to think this through. I took a deep breath, as though I was opening the valve on a pressure cooker. I looked around the room, my second home. I took the book I'd used on the Civil War from my desk and paper clipped the pages where John Wilkes Booth was described as entering the presidential box. I put it on the left side of the desk. “Left, right, center,” I said to myself.

  Ashley was just leaving his classroom as I reached for the doorknob. “Fritz, what are you doing?” as I grabbed the door and opened it.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” I repeated.

  “You're trying to open it.”

  “Yeah, but nothing.”

  We both went into the classroom. “Nothing,” I said again, running my hands through my hair.

  “Where were you trying to go?” asked Ash, seeing a book on the desk.

  I told him I had marked Ford's Theater. He said he was glad nothing had happened, that I could change world history if I went there. “You could end up not having been born.” I told him I didn't know what I would have done, to which he said I ought to reconsider. His tone scolded.

  “It's been too quiet this week. Thought I'd mix it up a little.”

  “You're nuts, did you know?” said Ash.

  “It has occurred to me once or twice.”

  WHEN I ARRIVED HOME, I kissed Linda hello. “If it's okay, I'm gonna play golf with Ash tomorrow. I could use the exercise.”

  “Do you feel up to it?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I'm fine, and maybe the quiet will help clear my head. Ash said it's supposed to rain,” I hesitated, “on Sunday.”

  “What?” she asked. “What about Sunday?”

  “Storms on Sunday. Just thinking. George has the new classroom ready to use. Do you know what the weather's supposed to be next week?”

  “No, but I hope it's nice,” said Linda. “It'll keep you out of trouble.”

  “So you don't mind if I play tomorrow?”

  “I don't mind, but if you get tired, promise me you'll stop.”

  “And miss a hole in one? I don't know,” I said. “I'll call Ash and set a time.”

  “Ask him if he wants food,” she said.

  “Ash, golf's OK. When? I'll be ready. Linda asked if you want to come for dinner tomorrow. Oh?” I winked at Linda. “Really. With whom?” I asked. “See you then,” and hung up. I said, “He has a date tomorrow. Wouldn't say who.”

  Linda grinned. Ash's romances were a regular source of roller coaster rides for the three of us. “You're going to have to find out. We can't let Casanova off too easily.”

  “I'll tell him you said so. One of these days…” I held up my crossed fingers.

  “Fritz, I want to talk to you.” I was getting up to pour a drink but stopped and sat. “Before, when you didn't want to teach, I was concerned. But now, this portal gets you going in the morning. I think that worries me mor
e. You're changing.” I felt the chill of her eyes bore into me. “You need to be careful. For both of us.”

  At seven the next morning, my golf bag and I walked to the car. “Hey bud,” said Ash, opening the trunk.

  “Looks like a good day to play. And a good night, too.” Ashley looked at me, said nothing, but wore his Cheshire-Cat grin.

  After fifteen holes of idle chatter, Ashley said, “I've been thinking about Ford's Theater. I don't think you should go there. Last night, I was looking through a book about Reconstruction and thinking about how different things might be if Lincoln had lived. You could really screw things up, by making them better. Know what I mean?”

  “I was thinking about that too,” teeing up for the next hole. “The temptation is there, but I don't want to change history. I wonder if just going back changes anything? Linda said yesterday she thought I was changing.” At that, I swung.

  “Nice hit,” said Ashley. “Maybe just going back improved your golf game.” Ashley teed up his ball.

  “So who are you going out with?” I said, just as Ash made his drive and watched it slice into the trees.

  “I get a do-over,” he said. “And none of your business.”

  “Nice retort. Do-over costs you two strokes, unless you tell me who.”

  “You don't know her.”

  “Looks like triple bogey territory to me!”

  “Oh, all right,” said Ash, teeing up another ball. As he was swinging again, I said, “So?” The second ball followed the first. “Will you stop that and let me shoot,” Ashley groused.

  “You keep shooting like that, and we're talking octuple bogey.”

  “Better than octogenarian bogey, like you.”

  “Ow, that hurts. So tell me, and I'll be quiet.”

  “Sandy.”

  “Horton?”

  “Uh huh.” A slight shade of pink invaded Ashley's cheeks. He said they had started talking about how cool it would be to meet Shakespeare, Austen, Whitman, Poe. “It just evolved. She's sharp.”

  “You need to do two things,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Be careful what you say, and hit the damn ball.” This time the ball went down the middle of the fairway. “That's five so far.”

  “Go to hell,” Ash said.

  * * *

  “YOU KNOW HE'S GOING to try to find out how the portal works. Can't you help him?” she asked, looking up. The president ran his hand over the wainscoting and the First Lady faced him on a couch in the Oval Office.

  “Not without being there. He's the centerpiece, the key. Whatever connects the dots starts with him. And I may have a problem with Jim Koppler. I'm trying to keep him out of this. He's seeing bogeymen while I'm still trying to see if there's really a problem. I still want Russell tested. This is as much a problem for me as it is for Jim, or for Russell.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  ASHLEY WAS RIGHT. It rained on Sunday. A gentle spring day. Pilgrim rain. I watched the Phillies, playing in Atlanta on TV. The Weather Channel predicted the Northeast would be experiencing unseasonably warm temperatures. Monday through Thursday showed an eighty percent chance of late afternoon thunderstorms. I thought it would be best not to mention the forecast to Linda, but she knew and warned me. “If you get a shock, before you try to go into some other dimension, please call me. At least then, I'll have a concrete reason to worry. And use that other room if you have to. George took the trouble to fix it up. The least you can do is keep the kids away from another trip.” It stung that she didn't think that was my greatest concern.

  Puddles dotted the streets as Monday began. Just after school ended, dark clouds blew in with some rumbling but no lightning. I stayed for a few minutes to try the door, but all I got was another nothing. So I left. Ashley, sitting at his desk, saw me heading out and called. I stepped back to the doorway. “How was your date?”

  “Would you believe we spent most of the evening talking about you?”

  Oh boy, I thought. “And?”

  “Don't worry. We talked about where we could go via the portal. But we're actually gonna try another one, date that is, next weekend.”

  “Do mine ears deceive me? Two dates, same woman?” I covered my mouth to show my fake surprise. “Was she bound and ear-plugged?”

  “Oh stop,” said Ash. “We have great conversations. I'll tell you more some other time, and not here. Maybe we can all go out for dinner.”

  “Well, I'll mention it to Linda.” Changing the subject, I asked if he was leaving.

  “Not yet. I'm waiting for…” He pointed through the wall.

  “WHY DO YOU TEASE him like that? Of course we'll go out with them. It'll be nice, and he can ease into this relationship with some conversation other than one focused on you. You should have a little more compassion. He's your friend.”

  Lightning flashed, and a crack of thunder interrupted her. “I wonder what would have happened if this storm had come earlier. Linda, I've been thinking.”

  “Why don't I like the sound of that?”

  “I think I can plan where I go. If I have paper-clipped books already set up in all three places when the doorknob gives me a shock, I can check exactly where it takes me. So I need to find places that aren't dangerous and be ready if it happens again. Then all I have to do is step in, look at where I am, and walk out again. It should be that easy.”

  “Why do you worry me like this? What's going to happen if you're wrong? Do you really think you can just walk back out?”

  “I have before. Even took the president with me. If I can create my own itinerary, then you shouldn't be worried. Remember, I'm trying to shut this down. Lin, I may be curious and even a little adventurous, but I don't think I'm stupid or reckless.” Her face said she wasn't so sure. “I know it's going to happen again. I can feel it. I just want to be able to control the trip, know where I'm going, and keep the kids out. Lin, I have to find out how the portal opens. I don't think anyone can do this except me.”

  “Fritz, I don't like it. I don't want anything to happen to you.” I reached out and squeezed her hand softly.

  “Should I tell Ash we'll go out with him this weekend?” I asked. Changing the subject didn't change her expression.

  “Why not? Let's go to a nice place, not one of his usual dives. Why don't you suggest the Old Lion Inn?”

  On Tuesday, my tires were puddle magnets after the night's rain, splattering the windshield while the wipers kept time to the tunes on the radio. Classroom, doorknob, no buzz. I went to the windowsill where the books were still piled and started looking at titles. Where can I go and be safe? Discarding book after book, I reached for a biography of Robert E. Lee, turned to the last few chapters, and read about Lee's time as President of Washington College in Lexington, Virginia. I took out a paperclip and marked the section. The next book was the one I had looked at on Friday. What would I do? I put a paperclip back on the Ford's Theater pages.

  Ashley walked in, stopped short. “What exactly are you doing?”

  “Planning my trip.

  “Have you figured it out?” he asked. His scolding voice had changed to excitement.

  “No, but the weather is lousy, so I'm going to try to set up some trips. If I get a buzz during school, I'll take the kids to the room George fixed up for me.”

  “And if it's before or after?” he asked, worry in his voice.

  “Then I can open the door, see if it takes me where I plan, and walk back out.”

  “How do you know you can get out?”

  “I don't, except for knowing that I did before. And Ash, if I can't figure out how it works, I'll be forever at the mercy of random events. I've got to find out how to stop it.”

  Monday had been gloomy, but nothing abnormal occurred. Tuesday, the weather cleared a bit, so once again, it was business as usual. As classes ended, I returned to planning. On the left, Lee. On the right, Ford's Theater, although I was still unsure of the wisdom of that. I need a third one. Rummaging through my books,
I spotted the travel brochure and was picking it up as Ashley walked in.

  “What's that?” he asked.

  “The White House tour brochure that got me to the Oval Office.”

  “Don't do that again,” Ash said.

  “Look, I'm trying to find safe places to go if this happens again. When, I should say. What could be safer? The president knows me and knows about the portal. He also knows that I'm still trying to figure out how it works.”

  “What if a secret service agent shoots first and asks second, or if the president just decides you're too dangerous, and oops, you disappear?”

  “Good point. I should let him know I'm trying to repeat the visit. Thanks, buddy. Good idea.”

  “Not my idea. Don't blame me,” said Ashley. “I don't think you should go at all.”

  A face appeared in the window of the classroom door. Short brown hair, a happy glint in her eyes. I waved Sandy in. A raincoat was draped over her left arm. I said, “I forgot to tell you. Linda suggested we all go to the Old Lion Inn. Would Saturday be okay?”

  Sandy hadn't had time to say hello, but she smiled when she heard me. Ashley looked at her. “It's okay with me. Is that okay, Sandy?”

  She said, “That would be great. I've only been there once. It's really good.”

  “I'll tell Linda. Oh, by the way, Ash, you're buying.” I watched as his face turned red.

  Sandy asked, “Are we driving or time traveling?”

  Ashley laughed at me. “Gotcha.”

  On Wednesday morning, the storms were back. I ran to the door to get out of the rain and not be outside if lightning visited again. I came in early to see if I could open the portal. Nothing. No progress, no answers. I put the books and brochure away in the same order: left, middle, right. I took out my phone, paused for a moment, and punched in the number of the White House.

  “Good morning, Mr. Russell,” came a female voice.

  “Is that you, Ms. Evans?”