The Never War tpa-3

by D. J. MacHale

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here,” came a voice from behind me.

  Yeah, right. You think?

  But the sound of this voice gave me a flicker of hope. For one, it was the voice of a woman. She didn’t sound angry, either. Maybe I could talk my way out of this. After all, I had the Traveler power of persuasion, right? Without turning around I said, “I just brought lunch up to Mr. Rose. The hotel wanted to make it special, but somebody forgot to put champagne on the cart. It was supposed to be a gift, on the house. So I came in here to call down for somebody to bring it up and the door locked behind me.”

  It was a total bluff, but all I could think of. Would she buy it? Or would she scream for Rose’s goons to come in here and toss me out the window? The next few seconds felt like a lifetime.

  Finally she said, “Here, take this.”

  Uh-oh. Was it a bullet? ”Turn around,” she said with a laugh.”Iwon’t bite.”

  I slowly turned around to see who I was dealing with.

  Wow. Standing in the doorway was a beautiful woman who looked like some kind of old-time movie star. She was dressed in a long, ivory nightgown that looked as slick as silk. It wasn’t embarrassing or anything because she had a silky robe over it. Her hair was dark and done in a perfect do. She wore perfect makeup, too. This wasn’t somebody who had just fallen out of bed. She looked ready for a photo shoot. I couldn’t tell how old she was, not with all the elegant makeup and all, but I’m guessing she was in her twenties. She had a little smile that told me she knew exactly how scared I was.

  Once I got over the shock of seeing her, I saw something else that made my heart leap. She was holding out an old-fashioned brass key on a ring.

  “I don’t know why he makes all the doors lock that way,” she said softly. “Maybe to catch people who go into places they shouldn’t.” She said this with a smile, like she was needling me. I think she liked to see me squirm. Good for her, because I was definitely squirming. I reached out and took the key.

  “Thanks,” I said. “It was a big mistake. I never should have come in here.”

  I went back to the main door and used the key to unlock it. When I opened the door, I was relieved to see that nobody villainous was lurking around in the entryway. I was beginning to think I had a chance of getting out of here alive. Quickly I returned the key to the woman, saying, “I’m very embarrassed.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said the woman. “I’ll never tell.” She put her finger to her lips to emphasize her promise to “shush.” It all seemed kind of flirty. Oh yeah, this was going to work out. I gave her a sincerely grateful smile, then turned for the door and freedom.

  “Hey!” she shouted after me. I froze. I was seconds away from a clean escape. What had gone wrong? I turned back to her sheepishly.

  “What about the champagne? Aren’t you going to make that call?”

  Oops. I hadn’t followed through with the bluff. I was such a bad liar. Was this going to bite me in the butt? I had to think fast, again. “Uh… I really shouldn’t be in here,” I said. “I’ll go downstairs and bring it back up myself.”

  “Good idea,” she said. “You’re a smart kid.” With that, she left through the door behind the desk…

  Ding Dong! The doorbell rang. In a few seconds one of Rose’s thugs would appear to answer it, and I was still in the office! I quickly dashed out and across the entryway toward the front door.

  “Hey, you still here?” somebody bellowed. It was the guy who first opened the door for me when I arrived.

  “Just leaving,” I said. The thug pushed past me and opened the door. Standing outside was Gunny, with a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice.

  “For Mr. Rose,” he said. “Compliments of the Manhattan Tower Hotel.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that the movie-star lady was watching from the corridor. It was perfect. Gunny had cemented my bluff without even knowing it. I was home free.

  The thug took the champagne, then pushed me out the door and closed it behind us. Gunny and I made brief eye contact, but didn’t say a word. We walked quickly past the two security guards in the corridor, stopped at the elevator, and rang for Dewey. The elevator arrived seconds later and we rode silently down to the lobby. Dewey looked at me the whole way down, dying to know what had happened. But he wasn’t going to ask with Gunny there, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to tell him anything. When we got to the lobby, Gunny and I stepped out of the elevator and kept walking until Dewey was out of earshot.

  Finally Gunny said under his breath, “You were up there too long, shorty. I was getting nervous. I had to make up an excuse to go up.”

  “It was perfect,” I added. “And totally worth it. Wait’ll you hear.” The two of us parted and went about our business for the rest of the day as if nothing scary had happened.

  That night Spader, Gunny, and I met in our room, and I told them everything that had happened in Max Rose’s penthouse.

  “So these Nazi wogglies,” Spader said, “they’re pretty nasty characters?”

  “Yes,” was my simple answer.

  “As bad as the gangster boys around here?” he asked.

  “Worse,” I answered. “These guys aren’t just criminals. The Nazis are about taking over the whole territory and murdering millions of people along the way.”

  “So they’re like, Saint Dane-bad,” was Spader’s conclusion.

  “Yeah, they’re Saint Dane-bad,” I agreed.

  “So then, what are they planning together?” Spader asked with frustration.

  “That is the big question, isn’t it?” Gunny said.

  What was Saint Dane trying to do here? Aside from the murderous mission of two gangsters at the flume in the subway, the demon hadn’t made his presence known. ”The Nazis are going to pay Max Rose for his services on May sixth,” I said while pacing. “I think if we figure out what Max Rose is doing for the Nazis, we’ll know what Saint Dane’s plan is.”

  “And what is Ludwig Zell-one-twenty-nine?” asked Spader. “Sounds like some kind of code.”

  “We don’t know if it’s Ludwig Zell-one-twenty-nine,” I said. “Only L-Z-one-two-nine.”

  I looked to Gunny, but Gunny only shrugged. LZ-129 might be the key to this whole thing, or mean absolutely nothing.

  “I’ll keep snooping around,” said Gunny.

  We ended the meeting by saying we had to keep a closer eye on Max Rose and his band of merry men. We decided to read every newspaper we could get, every day, to see if there was any mention of LZ-129 or Ludwig Zell. You never knew. For the first time since I had gotten to First Earth, I had the feeling that we were on our way to figuring out what Saint Dane had in mind to disrupt this territory.

  I was absolutely, totally wrong.

  Whatreallyhappened after that meeting was nothing. I’m serious, absolutely nothing. The trail went stone freakin’ cold. Max Rose never left the penthouse. Ludwig Zell didn’t come by the hotel again. We didn’t have any trouble with Winn Farrow and his gang of killers. We read every newspaper from New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut, but didn’t find a single reference to Ludwig Zell or LZ-129. Remember, this was long before the Internet. It’s not like we could sign on to a search engine, input “Ludwig Zell, evil Nazi mobster plan” and get a complete history of the guy and what he was up to.

  This waswayfrustrating.

  Gunny even went to some government offices to look for any documents that showed the kinds of businesses Max Rose was involved in. Good idea, except for one thing. This was 1937. An African American guy walking into government offices looking for information wasn’t exactly common. This was long before the civil rights movement. Guys like Jackie Robinson, Martin Luther King Jr., Colin Powell, Clarence Thomas from the Supreme Court, and Nelson Mandela hadn’t broken down any barriers yet. They didn’t even have very many black movie stars like Will Smith or Eddie Murphy.

  So Gunny pretty much walked into a bunch of brick walls.

&nbs
p; It would have been a totally depressing situation, if Spader and I hadn’t tried to have a little fun along the way. He showed me a good time on his home territory of Cloral, so I wanted to do the same for him on First Earth.

  I took him to see a lot of movies. He had never seen anything like a movie before, and it was fun to watch his reaction. He was freaked at first, kind of like when we saw the holograms on Veelox. But after a while he got with the program. The admission price was only twenty-five cents. Can you believe it? I took him to see lots of Marx Brothers movies, my favorite beingA Night at the Opera. We saw some Westerns with a guy named Tom Mix, and even saw the originalKing Kong. It was fun to see these movies on a big screen instead of television.

  We toured all over New York. I took him to the top of the Empire State Building, which was cool because we had just seen King Kong climb the thing. We went to the Statue of Liberty and Grand Central Station and even took a subway out to Coney Island to ride the rides and eat hot dogs.

  I think my favorite day was when we went up to the Bronx. No, not to the flume. We went to a Yankees game. I couldn’t believe it, but I saw both Lou Gehrig and Joe DiMaggio play! How cool isthat? Spader didn’t understand the game and it was hard to explain, but it didn’t matter. I was in hog heaven.

  And speaking of heaven, we also played a lot of basketball.

  When it comes to athletic stuff, I have to admit that Spader is better than I am in everything. He’s a little older and bigger, which helps. (At least, that’s what I tell myself.) But when it comes to basketball, well, that’s my game.

  At the risk of sounding crude, I kicked his ass. We set up a hoop in an alley behind the hotel and snuck out every chance we got. Gunny found us a crusty old leather ball. The rim was all bent and rusty with no net, but it didn’t matter. I recruited some of the other bellhops, and we played two on two. We even got Dewey to play, but he was worse than Spader. Poor guy.

  Our games were like minivacations away from Traveler worries. They put my mind back to a time and place when things were a whole lot easier, and the biggest concern I had was whether or not Courtney liked me as much as I liked her. (Yes, Courtney, I used to think about that a lot. I admit it.)

  Though our adventures exploring First Earth were excellent, there was always the big old sword of worry hanging over our heads. The longer we went without finding out anything about Max Rose and the Nazis, the more anxious I became. May 6 was drawing closer. It was beginning to look as if nothing would happen until then.

  I was wrong. On May 3, things started getting interesting again.

  The day started out normally, except that the hotel was expecting a celebrity guest. Her name was Nancy Olsen, but everybody knew her as “Jinx.” She was a pilot who flew for the Coast Guard. They didn’t have many women pilots back then, and Jinx was a real hotshot. She was touring around the country doing public relations. I guess the idea was to get women interested in signing up for military service. In 1937 women didn’t normally do things like fly for the Coast Guard, so Jinx Olsen was unique.

  Her tour brought her to New York, where she was going to stay at the hotel for a week while making appearances and giving speeches. There was even a big party planned for her in the ballroom on the twenty-ninth floor of the hotel. It was going to be a big doo-dah with a band and celebrities and politicians and the works. Spader and I had already been asked to be waiters for the party because there were going to be over two hundred guests, and they needed all the help they could get.

  When Jinx Olsen arrived at the hotel, I could tell instantly why she was chosen to be the poster girl for the Coast Guard. She was tall and pretty and oozed confidence. Most of the women I had seen on First Earth wore dresses-but not Jinx. She had on khakis and a worn, brown leather jacket. But she didn’t look like a guy. No way. She had these dazzling green eyes and a big smile that absolutely lit up the room. When she first strode into the hotel lobby with her duffel bag over her shoulder, the first word that jumped into my head was “adventurer.”

  The hotel manager, a chubby guy named Mr. Caplesmith, was right there to greet her. “Welcome, Miss Olsen,” he said. “We are so honored to have you stay with us.”

  Jinx stopped short, stared the guy square in the eyes and asked, “Why?”

  Mr. Caplesmith got a little flustered and said, “Well, because you’re such a famous, uh, pilot person.” He had no clue about what made Jinx Olsen tick, and Jinx Olsen knew it.

  “Let’s be honest,” she said. “You’re happy to see me because Uncle Sam is paying you to put on a big old party tomorrow night, right?”

  Mr. Caplesmith was embarrassed, but he knew better than to lie to her. “Well, you could say that,” he said sheepishly.

  Jinx smiled and gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “No problem. Just so we all know the score. Where’s my room?”

  Mr. Caplesmith tried hard not to grab his arm in pain. He looked around and saw me.

  “Bell boy!” he ordered.

  I ran up and stood at attention. Mr. Caplesmith liked that.

  “Please take Miss Olsen up to room fifteen-fifteen.” He gave me the room key.

  I reached for Jinx’s bag, but she didn’t give it up. “I can handle it, chief,” she said with a smile. “Just show me the way.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I said, and made for the elevator. Jinx followed right after me. I glanced back quickly and saw Mr. Caplesmith massaging his sore arm. It was hard not to laugh. Jinx Olsen was the coolest person I had met since starting work at this hotel, aside from Gunny of course.

  “You’ve got a pretty exciting job,” I said. “Making rescues with the Coast Guard and all.”

  “Yeah, real exciting,” she said. It didn’t sound like she meant it.

  “It’s not?” I asked.

  “It would be if they actually let me do it once in a while. It’s not easy getting the call, being a woman and all.” We arrived at the elevator and Dewey started us on our way up. He even got the controls right the first time. He must have been practicing. ”That’s not fair,” I said to Jinx. “If you’ve got the chops, you should be flying the missions.”

  “You know how many times I’ve told them that?” Jinx said. “But they’d rather trot me out on these public relations tours where I won’t get scratched. Heck, I’m a better flier than most of the boys in my squad, but because I’m a woman, well, I don’t get the chance.”

  “Do you know Amelia Earhart?” Dewey asked.

  “I’ve met her,” answered Jinx. “Nowthatgal is a flier!”

  “Amelia Earhart?” I asked. “Isn’t that the woman pilot who disappeared when she was trying to fly around the world?”

  Dewey and Jinx looked at me like I was from Pluto.

  “You must be mistaken,” Jinx said. “She’s leaving on her round-the-world trip the end of this month.”

  Oops. First Earth. I was talking about something that hadn’t happened yet. I wasn’t wrong though. I remembered seeing a TV show about Amelia Earhart. She never made it. I didn’t have the heart to tell them. On the other hand, they never would have believed me because I was talking about the future. Luckily, we had arrived on the fifteenth floor.

  “We’re here,” I announced, and hurried out of the elevator before I had to talk any more about Amelia Earhart. I opened up room 1515 for Jinx and told her that if she needed anything, she should call Gunny, the bell captain, and he’d make sure one of us took care of her. She thanked me and gave me a twenty-five-cent tip. Not exactly a lot of cash, but it would pay for another Marx Brothers movie.

  “You know something?” I said. “You may be having a tough time, but someday soon there will be a lot of women fliers. People are going to realize they’re just as good as the guys. Things will change. I guarantee it.”

  This made Jinx smile. She came across as pretty tough, but I’ll bet that was because she had to survive in a macho man’s job. But in that brief moment, her guard came down, and I saw beyond the bold front to the real person.

&n
bsp; “What’s your name, chief?” she asked.

  “Bobby Pendragon.”

  “I’m Jinx, Bobby. Thanks for the kind words. I’ll remember them.” She winked at me and we shook hands.

  I liked Jinx Olsen. Her confidence and cockiness reminded me a lot of Spader. I hoped she was going to get the chance to prove herself someday.

  The party in her honor was the following night, and it was a real fancy deal. The ballroom on the twenty-ninth floor was all decked out with red, white, and blue decorations. There must have been a thousand colorful balloons floating up on the ceiling. The men wore tuxedos and the women were in long, formal gowns. I recognized some old-time movie stars, but didn’t know their names. There was one guy I definitely recognized though-it was Lou Gehrig. Even out of his Yankees uniform, I knew who he was.

  There was a big orchestra playing for people to dance. The musicians all wore white jackets and looked like they had stepped out of an Abbott and Costello movie. I even recognized some of the music they were playing. Like I always said, if you want to learn about classical music, watch old Bugs Bunny cartoons. If you want to learn about old-time swing music, watch Abbott and Costello movies. Who says TV isn’t educational?

  There was a long table set up on one side of the room for the dignitaries. That’s where Jinx sat, right in the middle. She was wearing a dress but looked totally uncomfortable in it. I felt sorry for her. This was the price she had to pay for being allowed to fly. She had to be a goodwill ambassador and put on a happy face for the world. I guarantee she hated it.

  The rest of the room was full of tables where people ate and drank. This was where Spader and I did our thing. A whole bunch of other waiters were brought in for the party, and we all wore these short white jackets, black pants, and white gloves. It was pretty cake work. We were each assigned to a table and had to shuttle back and forth to the kitchen, bringing out the food. Basically all I had to do was make sure I didn’t spill anything.