September Sky (American Journey Book 1)

by John A. Heldt

  "Are you going to be all right?" Emily asked.

  "I'll be all right," Justin said. He sighed. "I have a question for you though."

  "What's that?"

  "I overheard your mom talk about a family vacation to Louisiana and thought I heard her say that you would all be gone for two weeks. Is that true?"

  "It's partly true," Emily said.

  "What do you mean by 'partly true'?"

  "What I mean, Justin, is that my father, mother, and sister are leaving Wednesday morning to see my grandparents in New Orleans. They will be gone until the fifteenth."

  "You're not going?" Justin asked.

  "I'm not going."

  Emily met his gaze.

  "I'm staying right here."

  CHAPTER 54: CHUCK

  Saturday, August 4, 1900

  "Are you going to play, Chuck, or stare at your cards all night?"

  Chuck looked at the woman to his left and laughed to himself. Rose O'Malley hadn't changed a bit since becoming the future Mrs. Wyatt Fitzpatrick. If anything, she had become more like the feisty librarian he had first met in April.

  "Are you in a hurry, Miss O'Malley?"

  "I most certainly am," Rose said. She held her head high. "I finally have a decent hand and want to rub it in all of your noses."

  Wyatt and Charlotte laughed.

  "I see you've mastered the art of the bluff," Chuck said.

  Rose raised a brow.

  "I've mastered a lot of things, Mr. Townsend."

  Chuck smiled, sighed, and shook his head. He looked at Charlotte and saw her blush.

  "Do you still want to claim her?"

  "She is our housemate, Charles."

  "She's a lot more than that," Chuck said.

  Rose winked at the reporter.

  "I'm going to miss you," she said.

  Chuck laughed.

  "I'm sure you are."

  Chuck collected himself and returned to his hand. He didn't think he could stop Rose from rubbing it in with a king, a queen, a nine, a six, and a four, but he didn't really care. At this point, he cared only about surviving a war of wits with at least a shred of his dignity. He discarded the single-digit cards and motioned with his fingers for replacements.

  The dealer paused for a minute, grinned devilishly, and finally pushed three new cards across the table. Wyatt appeared to enjoy watching Chuck interact with Rose almost as much as he enjoyed sipping his whiskey and smoking his Cuban cigar.

  "Did I improve your hand, Charles?" Wyatt asked.

  Chuck lifted the cards and saw a jack, an eight, and the ace of spades. He groaned and placed the new cards in his hand.

  "You didn't even improve my temperament," Chuck said.

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Wyatt said with a trace of sarcasm.

  Chuck let the comment go unanswered. After bantering with Rose, the last thing he wanted to do was to start a lively exchange with her silver-tongued fiancé too.

  He instead settled into his chair and reexamined one of the worst hands he'd had all night. In the process, he noticed something interesting about his cards. Each seemed to represent a person or circumstance in his life.

  When he looked at the king of diamonds, a king with an axe, Chuck saw Wyatt Fitzpatrick. He saw a wealthy leader who never went into battle unprepared but who always used his power and influence responsibly and judiciously.

  Chuck also saw a man who would not change a course without a compelling reason to do so. For that reason, he didn't put much effort into convincing Wyatt to modify his plan to protect the Gulf Star fleet. Having made the case to mothball the ships in the first place, he didn't want to insult Wyatt's intelligence by insisting that prudence was suddenly a bad idea.

  The next card in his hand needed no explanation. When Chuck looked at the queen of hearts, he saw his new wife, a generous, loving woman who almost always put others before herself and brought grace and beauty to an often harsh and ugly world.

  Chuck saw a caring mate, a future mother, and a mentor to others. He knew it would be only a matter of time before Charlotte Emerson Townsend made her mark on the twenty-first century.

  The third card reminded Chuck of someone just as dear. When he gazed at the jack of hearts, he saw his sensitive and vulnerable but strong-willed son, a young man navigating the difficult transition from adolescence to adulthood.

  Chuck had thought about Justin many times during the course of the evening. He worried about how his son would cope if Emily Beck, as was likely, did not accompany the Townsends back to Los Angeles and 2016. He wondered if Justin had even hinted at the idea of taking her along or might do so tonight after they finished watching a show at the opera house.

  If the first three cards made Chuck smile, the last two did not. When he looked at the eight of clubs and the ace of spades, he saw trouble.

  The eight reminded Chuck of a rapidly approaching date. Though he did not know for certain that September 8 was the date of the storm, he was as certain as he could be without his notes.

  He remembered reading that the hurricane had struck the island after Labor Day on a day when many mainland dwellers had come to Galveston for rest and relaxation. That made the second Saturday of the month a prime candidate for the coming calamity.

  Chuck needed no help with the fifth card. When he looked at the ace of spades, he saw what people had seen for centuries. He saw death. He saw bodies on beaches and a city in ruins.

  "Charles?" Charlotte asked.

  "Yes?"

  "Are you still with us? You seem a bit distracted."

  "He's probably dreaming about California," Rose said matter-of-factly. "I would too if I knew I were going there sometime soon."

  Rose glanced at her fiancé and raised a brow.

  "That's a hint, Wyatt."

  "Has New England lost its luster, my love?" Wyatt asked.

  "We can watch the leaves turn purple next year," Rose said. "I'd much rather visit our friends in a place where the mosquitoes aren't biting and the sun's always shining."

  "It does rain in Los Angeles," Chuck said.

  "It won't if we're there," Rose said.

  The others at the table laughed.

  When the laughter subsided, Chuck gave Wyatt and Charlotte knowing glances and then returned his attention to the persistent redhead. He felt bad about not bringing Rose into the time-travel loop and vowed to do so at the first opportunity.

  "If you're that sure about the weather, Rose, then plan on coming with us," Chuck said. "We can go over the particulars of the trip when the time to leave draws near."

  Rose smiled at Wyatt in a self-satisfied way.

  "You see how easy that was?"

  "Maybe we can discuss the trip the next time we're in Houston," Chuck said. "Silas wants us to come over for dinner before we leave Galveston."

  "Does he now?" Wyatt asked.

  "That's what he said at the reception."

  "That's odd. He didn't mention anything to me."

  "I'm sure he was just trying to be civil," Chuck said.

  "It doesn't matter why he invited them, Wyatt. All that matters is that he did," Rose said. "Let's plan the dinner now. I can't wait to discuss our new-and-improved honeymoon."

  "All right then," Wyatt said. "How does next weekend sound?"

  Chuck shook his head.

  "Charlotte and I are going to finish our own honeymoon by going back to the Sea View. How about the following Saturday? How about the eighteenth?"

  "That won't work if Silas really wants to see you," Wyatt said. "He'll be on a business trip to Austin. He'll be meeting with legislators who are not in the pocket of Max Beck. Imagine that."

  Chuck laughed.

  "Then we'll go during the week sometime or have dinner in town. Where we discuss our trip to California isn't important. What's important is that the two of you join us on the train."

  "Listen to this man, Wyatt," Rose said. She smiled at Chuck. "He's talking sense."

  "Thank you, Rose."
/>   Chuck raised his glass of whiskey and waited for the others to do the same.

  "Here's to honeymoons and happy travels," Chuck said.

  The four clinked glasses.

  "To California!" Rose said.

  CHAPTER 55: JUSTIN

  Saturday, August 11, 1900

  Justin watched with awe and affection as the twenty-year-old on his arm came to a gradual stop, inhaled the sea air, and lifted her eyes toward the heavens. A billion stars peppered the late-night sky like diamond dust on a sheet of black satin.

  "I've never seen anything so beautiful," Emily said.

  Justin gazed at Emily and smiled.

  "Neither have I."

  Emily looked at Justin, saw his grin, and frowned.

  "I'm talking about the sky, Mr. Townsend."

  "Oh," Justin said. "The sky is pretty nice too."

  Emily laughed.

  "You're in a good mood."

  "I usually am when I'm around you," Justin said.

  The couple resumed walking eastward along the Midway.

  "I'm not sure that's true, but I won't quibble," Emily said. "You seem happier than you were last week, before my family left for New Orleans. You seem much happier."

  Justin couldn't disagree. He was happier. He was as happy as he had been all summer and maybe all year. Then again, it was easy to be happy when he had succeeded in compartmentalizing his thoughts and had pushed a large and seemingly unsolvable problem to the attic of his mind.

  "I guess I am."

  Justin guided Emily around a pothole and steered her toward firmer ground – or at least what appeared to be firmer ground on the dark and lightly occupied street. He gazed into the distance and saw that much of the beachfront community had locked up for the night.

  "Speaking of your family, how are they doing?" Justin asked. "Have you heard from them?"

  Emily nodded.

  "Papa sent a telegram yesterday. He didn't say how the family was doing. He just said that the conditions in New Orleans were 'insufferable.' I wasn't sure whether he meant the humidity or his in-laws. He doesn't get along with my grandfather."

  Justin laughed.

  "Are they still coming back on Wednesday?"

  Emily nodded again.

  "Their train arrives at 8 p.m. We have only four more days to ourselves."

  Justin sighed. He didn't need to analyze her statement to figure out what she was saying. An opportunity to engage in serious mischief was slipping away.

  Oddly enough, Justin had been the one to put the brakes on messing around. Each time Emily had asked him to step inside the Beck mansion at the end of a date, he had politely refused, given her a door prize of a kiss, and returned to his beach house two blocks away.

  Justin wanted nothing more than to make love to the woman he loved, but he knew that doing so would not be a bright idea. He had come to grips with the fact that he would have to leave her behind and didn't want to do anything to further complicate an already complicated situation.

  "We'll have to make the best of them then!" Justin said.

  Emily shot him a playful glance.

  "Do you have something specific in mind?"

  "I do," Justin said. "I want to go to that studio on Market Street and have our pictures taken."

  Emily frowned for reasons that were all too obvious.

  "You want to sit for some photographs?"

  Justin nodded.

  "I do. I want to sit for several. I want some solo shots for your locket and my wallet and some bigger pictures of us that I can take to California. I want something to remember you by."

  When he saw Emily stare at the ground, Justin decided to do what he had promised himself he would not do. He directly addressed his pending departure.

  "I know this is hard, Emily. It's hard for me too."

  "Really?" Emily asked in a skeptical voice.

  "You know it is."

  Emily finally looked at him.

  "All right then. We'll go on Tuesday. That's my day off. If you want me to wear something in particular, just let me know. I'll put it on."

  Justin pulled her closer.

  "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

  Justin berated himself for opening the door to negativity. He didn't want to spoil the night any more than she did, but he also knew they couldn't ignore the elephant in the room forever. He would depart in September and depart without her unless he asked her to leave her family forever and she agreed to leave.

  For more than ten minutes, they walked in silence between the Midway and the beach. They walked past three bathhouses and dozens of shops and stands that would soon open their doors to a public that could never get enough of the ocean.

  When they left the Midway and approached the residences near Fourteenth Street and Avenue O, Justin glanced at the Gulf and saw something move. When he looked again, he saw a well-built man emerge from the water wearing nothing more than a smile.

  "Don't look at the water now or you'll see a muscle man in all his glory," Justin said.

  Emily stopped in her tracks. She looked at the man on the beach and laughed softly.

  "You mean that man? I've seen his kind a hundred times."

  "What do you mean?"

  "What I mean, Mr. Townsend, is that I've lived in this town my whole life. Men swim naked on this beach several nights a week. Most have the good sense to wait until after eleven at night, but not all. I've seen the exhibitionists here as early as nine thirty."

  Justin chuckled.

  "What's so funny?"

  "It's nothing," Justin said. "I just keep forgetting there's nothing you haven't seen before."

  "Are you saying that I'm a worldly woman?"

  Justin laughed again.

  "I guess you could say that. You're out of this world anyway."

  "That doesn't sound like a compliment," Emily said.

  "It is. Trust me. It is."

  "If you say so."

  Justin glanced again at the beach and saw that the man had disappeared.

  "In any case, I thought you might want to avert your eyes. Watching a naked man emerge from the ocean on a moonlit night is not something I see everyday – and I'm a lifeguard."

  "You mean you've never gone skinny dipping?" Emily asked.

  "No," Justin said. "I've never even gone swimming this late at night."

  "Well, maybe we should do something about that."

  "You mean now?" Justin asked.

  "That's exactly what I mean."

  "I don't know, Emily. Something tells me that's not a good idea."

  Emily smiled mischievously.

  "Of course it's not a good idea. That's what makes it so delicious."

  Justin laughed.

  "What do you have in mind?"

  Emily let go of Justin's arm and turned to face him.

  "Do you still have the bathing suit I bought you?"

  "You mean the prison-stripe special?" Justin asked.

  "Yes. I mean that. Do you have it?"

  "I have it. It's back at the beach house."

  "That's good," Emily said. "After you drop me off, I want you to put it on and meet me on the beach in front of my house."

  Justin smiled.

  "You really want to do this?"

  Emily nodded.

  "If you want me to sit for some pictures, then you have to do something for me," Emily said. "It's about eleven thirty now. Meet me at midnight. We're going for a swim."

  CHAPTER 56: JUSTIN

  Sunday, August 12, 1900

  Justin stood waist-high in the warm, rolling water and looked up at the moon. It wasn't quite as full as it had been on Friday night, but it was full enough to illuminate a young fool who had agreed to do something that could have no G-rated outcome.

  I am way too gullible.

  Justin smiled at the thought of his principal shortcoming and then scanned the beach for raven-haired beauties. Failing to see any, he turned to face the Gulf and waded into deeper water. When the
shifting sands fell away from his feet, he started to swim. He didn't stop until he heard a woman call his name.

  "Justin? Justin?" Emily asked. "Are you out there?"

  Justin stopped, turned around, and treaded water for a few seconds. When he saw Emily start to walk away, he whistled and waited for her to look in his direction.

  "I'm over here," Justin said. "Don't move. I'm coming in."

  He swam toward the beach. When he could finally stand, he did so and walked the rest of the way. He stopped about ten feet shy of his adventurous date, who had already entered the water.

  "I'm disappointed," Justin said. "I didn't think you'd wear your bloomers."

  "What did you think I would wear?" Emily asked.

  Justin grinned.

  "I had hoped you would wear your birthday suit. That's what I did."

  Emily's eyes grew large.

  "You did what?"

  Justin chuckled.

  "I'm just kidding. I wore my prison stripes," Justin said. He swam into shallower water so that Emily could see his bathing suit. "See?"

  "I see," Emily said.

  "Just what kind of man do you think I am?"

  "You're a dangerous one. That's what."

  Justin smiled.

  "Dangerous? I'm nothing compared to my friend."

  "What friend?" Emily asked.

  "Just wait a second. I'll get him."

  Justin noted Emily's location, dove into the chest-high water, and remained below the surface for more than thirty seconds. He emerged from the depths, behind Emily, and announced his presence from about five feet away.

  "Growl!"

  Emily screamed and turned around.

  "You scared me! Who do you think you are?"

  Justin lowered his body into the water until only his head stuck out. He then extended his arms and splashed the surface with hands he had turned into snapping jaws.

  "I'm a Nile crocodile – and I've come to eat you."

  Emily shot him a hard glance.

  "You stay right there, Mr. Crocodile … at least for now."

  Justin laughed.

  "But I'm a friendly crocodile."

  "I'll be the judge of that," Emily said.

  Justin smiled.

  "Wow. You're tough."

  "I'm just protecting myself, though I doubt I need to," Emily said. "You're no crocodile. A real crocodile wouldn't growl. He'd hiss."