September Sky (American Journey Book 1)

by John A. Heldt

  "What happened after they died?" Chuck asked. "The papers didn't report the details."

  Emily put her hand on Justin's, gave him a sweet smile, and turned back to Chuck.

  "I floated on the raft for a while and drifted toward the bay. I remember that I struggled for what seemed like an eternity to stay afloat. The wind and water made it very difficult."

  "I'll bet they did."

  "Eventually I drifted toward two small trees. I paddled away from the first, using a board I had pulled from the water, and tried to steer clear of the second when I was struck in the head by flying debris," Emily said. "That's really all I remember."

  "Then the fishermen rescued you?"

  Emily nodded.

  "They apparently saw me even before I hit the tree. They pulled me out of the water and put me in their boat, but they couldn't take me anywhere. They had no more control over their boat than I had over my raft," Emily said. "So we all drifted across the bay. When we reached the mainland Sunday morning, the men did what they could to get me to the hospital in Houston."

  "So you don't remember the efforts to save you?" Chuck asked.

  Emily shook her head.

  "I was unconscious for four days. When I woke up at St. Ignatius, I didn't know where I was, how I had gotten there, or what had happened to any of you. I knew only that I had to leave right away and look for answers."

  "But you couldn't leave."

  "No. I couldn't," Emily said. "The doctors insisted that I remain in their care through the weekend. They finally discharged me on Monday morning. That's when I got the telegram."

  "What telegram?" Chuck asked.

  Emily smiled.

  "The telegram your son sent me, of course."

  "I didn't send you a telegram," Justin said.

  "You didn't. Professor Bell did. He sent it in your name. He instructed me to remain at the hospital and stay away from carriages until he – or rather you – arrived," Emily said. She kissed Justin on the cheek. "I decided to wait for my lifeguard."

  Chuck smiled. He knew the next part of the story. The Bells had used a white crystal to travel to September 17, 1900. They went to Texas with Thomas Mack, reunited the Beck sisters, and brought the girls back to Los Angeles. They accessed the time tunnel two weeks later, on October 1, 1900, and reentered their home just as they had left it on September 17, 2016.

  "When did you notify your grandparents?" Chuck asked.

  Emily took a breath.

  "I called them the day after I woke from my coma. I had planned to meet them at the Grand Central Depot on the seventeenth, but I never made the trip. When I received Professor Bell's telegram, I stayed at the hospital and waited for them to come to me."

  "What did you tell them when they arrived?" Chuck asked.

  "I told them the truth – or at least as much of the truth as I thought they could handle. I told them I was taking custody of Anna and leaving for California to be with Justin," Emily said. She squeezed Justin's hand. "I didn't tell them they would never see us again. That would have been cruel."

  "I'm sure it was hard to leave, but I, for one, am glad you did. You've brought a lot of joy into our lives. I want you to know I will always appreciate the sacrifices you've made to be with us."

  "Thank you."

  Chuck smiled at Emily and then took a moment to check on the others. He glanced at Anna, who splashed around in a children's pool, and then at Wyatt, who mingled with an attractive blonde at another table. When he looked at his son, he saw the happiest twenty-one-year-old in Southern California. Justin had been positively giddy since reuniting with Emily.

  Chuck then glanced at his wife and saw someone who wasn't quite as happy. He had first noticed a change in Charlotte's demeanor the moment they left the Bell house on Friday. For four days now, she had seemed moody, apprehensive, and withdrawn.

  "Are you feeling all right, dear?" Chuck asked.

  Charlotte forced a smile.

  "I'm feeling all right."

  Chuck started to say something but stopped when he saw and heard two police cars approach with their lights flashing and sirens blaring. He watched the vehicles speed past his downtown L.A. motel and then returned his attention to his wife, who had her hands over her ears.

  "It's not always this bad," Chuck said.

  "I'm sure it's not," Charlotte said with little conviction.

  Chuck turned back to Emily.

  "What do you think of the modern world?"

  "It's scary," Emily said with a nervous laugh.

  "How so?"

  "I don't know. It's just faster and noisier and less personal than I thought it would be."

  "You're right about that," Chuck said. "Twenty sixteen has its upsides though. For one thing, there are a lot more opportunities for women. I'm sure Justin has told you about some of them."

  "He has."

  "Are you interested in any of them?"

  "I am. I still want to be a doctor – or at least a nurse," Emily said. "Justin and I have talked about going to medical school together, but I'm not sure that's going to happen anytime soon."

  "Why not?"

  "My high school and college transcripts are more than a hundred years old, Mr. Townsend. If I pursue a college degree, I'll have to start from scratch."

  "Is that so?" Chuck asked his son.

  "It is, for the most part," Justin said. "Even if Emily passes her placement tests, she'll still have to repeat her freshman year. She needs an academic background. She also needs a birth certificate, a Social Security number, and other credentials. Getting them is going to take time."

  Chuck looked at Emily.

  "You're going to face some challenges. There's no doubt about that," Chuck said. "What I really want to know, though, is what you think about living in this time and place."

  "To be truthful, sir, I don't know what I think. I haven't been here long enough to form a fair opinion. I just know I'm going to need a while to adjust."

  "How is Anna doing?"

  "She's happy – but not because of 2016 or California," Emily said. "She's happy because Justin and I are alive and together and back in her life. My sister would be happy on the North Pole so long as she was with the people she loved."

  Chuck nodded.

  "Thank you for your candor."

  "You're welcome."

  Chuck looked at Charlotte and saw her smile sadly as she watched Anna push a beach ball around the pool with her nose. He wanted desperately to know what she was thinking but was afraid to ask. He wasn't sure if he really wanted the answer.

  Chuck gazed at the street beyond the pool and noticed that law enforcement had returned to the scene. Two policemen escorted a man in handcuffs from a liquor store to their patrol car. He stared blankly at the storefront until a familiar voice brought him out of his daze.

  "Have you thought about what you're going to do?" Justin asked.

  "Do about what?" Chuck asked.

  "Have you thought about where you're going to live and work? I know you talked about San Francisco before we went on the trip, but a lot has changed since then."

  "Yes, it has, Justin. Yes, it has."

  Justin tilted his head.

  "So what are you going to do?"

  Chuck smiled at his son.

  "What am I going to do? I'll tell you what I'm going to do," Chuck said. "I'm going to go for a walk with my son."

  "What?"

  "You heard me."

  Chuck pushed his plastic patio chair away from the round table and stood up.

  "You want to walk now?" Justin asked.

  "Yes, now. Come on."

  Chuck waited for Justin to get out of his chair and then stepped around the table to join him. When he reached his son's side, he looked at Charlotte and Emily.

  "We won't be long, ladies."

  "Where are we going?" Justin asked.

  "Where we're going isn't important. What we have to discuss is," Chuck said. He put a hand on Justin's shoulder. "Let's talk
."

  CHAPTER 92: CHUCK

  Sunday, September 25, 2016

  Charles Townsend looked at the man who was equal parts Willy Wonka, Santa Claus, and H.G. Wells and smiled. He would probably never understand or fully trust Professor Geoffrey Bell, but in the past week he had come to like him. It was hard not to like someone who had granted a wish that paved the way to lasting happiness.

  "Thank you for doing this," Chuck said.

  "Don't thank me," Bell said. "Thank your son. He's the one who had reservations."

  "I don't anymore," Justin said. "We're on the same page now."

  Chuck looked admiringly at Justin, who sat next to him on a couch in the White Room. He had never been more proud of his son than he was now. He had grown ten feet in two weeks.

  "What are your immediate plans?" Bell asked from the other sofa, which he shared with Wyatt.

  "I intend to look for a job, of course," Chuck said. "I'm sure the Examiner or one of the other papers could use a veteran reporter with a lot of hindsight."

  Bell laughed.

  "What about you, young man? What are your plans?"

  "I'm going to marry Emily the minute we pop out of that tunnel," Justin said. "Then I'm going to look into medical school. We both are. We're going to practice medicine together."

  "So you think you'll be able to teach those old docs new tricks?"

  Justin smiled.

  "Yeah. I think so."

  Chuck laughed to himself. He had no doubt that his son – and Emily – would do just that. They were intelligent, capable, and committed. They were also shrewd. They had packed modern medical guides and microfiche of medical journals in each of their suitcases. Though they did not intend to change history, they did intend on improving the lives of the people around them.

  Chuck, too, had hedged his bets. He had liquidated his remaining assets and converted them to cash he could use in 1900. He had packed the money next to a copy of the World Almanac and Book of Facts, which contained information that might come in handy. Though he planned to work for a living, he didn't plan to struggle. He and his family would live comfortably.

  Bell looked at Justin, smiled, and then reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a skeleton key to the outside chamber door and a blue crystal.

  "Here are your essentials," Bell said. He handed the items to Chuck. "Try not to lose them, Mr. Townsend. Both may come in handy if the two of you change your minds."

  "We won't. We're committed to this."

  "I do have one favor to ask," Bell said.

  "What's that?"

  "I'd like you to maintain a permanent post-office box in Los Angeles in case I need to contact you or send you correspondence."

  "I can do that," Chuck said.

  "Do you have any questions for me before you go?" Bell asked.

  Chuck looked at the professor thoughtfully.

  "I do. I have one."

  "What's that?"

  "Why were you such a contentious prick when we returned from Galveston?" Chuck asked. "You're a nice guy, Professor. You could have been that way from the start."

  Bell smiled.

  "I could have been. I wasn't because I wanted to test you. I wanted to make sure you fully appreciated your responsibilities in case you asked to go back to 1900. I wanted to know that if my time traveler ever strayed again, he would stray for the right reasons," Bell said. "You impressed me with your honesty, Charles. I reward honest men."

  "Thank you, Professor. I appreciate that."

  Chuck started to change the topic but stopped when he saw three ravishing women and a cute-as-a-button girl walk down the stairs and enter the basement. Jeanette, Charlotte, Emily, and Anna each wore a crisp white shirtwaist, a royal blue trumpet skirt, and her hair in a bun.

  "Oh, my. It appears we have the Gibson girls on parade," Bell said. He looked at his wife. "Are you planning to leave me as well, darling?"

  "No, Geoffrey. I'm not," Jeanette said. She smiled and lifted her nose. "I just thought I'd get in the spirit of the moment. Don't we look splendid?"

  "Yes," Bell and Wyatt said in near unison.

  "I heard only two responses."

  "You all look splendid, Jeanette," Chuck said.

  "I agree," Justin added.

  Chuck laughed when he glanced at his smiling son. Justin may have agreed that all four ladies looked splendid, but he stared at only one. He exchanged loving gazes with Emily that belonged on late-night cable. The honeymoon had already started.

  The professor stood up.

  "Since we are all in agreement about the level of loveliness in the room, I guess there is only one more thing to do," Bell said. "It's time to send that loveliness – or at least three-quarters of it – into the world. Let's gather at the door."

  Chuck, Justin, and Wyatt got up from their sofas and followed Bell across the White Room to the tunnel door and waited for the four lovely ladies to join them. When the eight finally came together, they commenced a round of hugs and handshakes that lasted for five minutes.

  Chuck saved Wyatt for last. He wanted to make sure that the man he had saved in 1900 and brought to 2016 was comfortable with his decision to remain in the modern age.

  "I guess this is it," Chuck said. "Are you going to be all right?"

  "I think so," Wyatt said. "The professor has offered to help me to find a new home and adjust to this world of yours."

  "Are you sure you don't want to join us?"

  "I'm sure. It's safer here," Wyatt said. "It's also more interesting and visually stimulating."

  Chuck laughed.

  "I can't argue with that," Chuck said. He sighed. "You're doing the right thing, Wyatt. Rose would have approved. She would have wanted you to enjoy a time and a place she never had the chance to see. She would have wanted you to move on."

  Wyatt looked at Chuck with moist eyes.

  "I know."

  Chuck gave his dear friend a long hug. He then stepped back, turned to face his charges, and instructed them to retrieve their suitcases and bags from a spot near the exit. He lifted his own suitcase and opened the door.

  "Are we ready?" Chuck asked.

  "We're ready!" Anna said.

  Charlotte gave her husband a warm smile. She had clearly found what she'd been missing the past few days.

  "Let's go then," Chuck said.

  Chuck led the party of five into the dark chamber and proceeded to the exterior door. After Bell shut the interior door behind the group, the group leader pulled out the blue crystal. He held it up toward the low ceiling until the embedded overhead lights started to do their thing.

  A moment later, Chuck led the group out of the tunnel, up the stairs, and onto a backyard that hadn't changed a bit in nine days and 116 years. When the others assembled around him in the middle of the lawn, he couldn't help but notice that two things had changed since April.

  The first was that he was no longer a loner, a restless and driven soul who lived and worked only for Number One. He had a family now. He had an incomparable wife, an amazing son, two spirited daughters, and a baby on the way. Chuck vowed to rebuild his life around them.

  The second thing that had changed was that he was not merely a witness to 1900 but rather a participant. He was now as much a part of this time as the people who had been born into it. He would make his mark on this world just as surely as he had made his mark on the last.

  Chuck took Charlotte's hand, led her a few feet to the edge of the yard, and gazed at a vibrant city and a clear September sky. He took a breath and smiled. The day, the first of his new life, was off to a good start. He could already smell the citrus.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing may be a solitary venture, but producing a novel is not. Most authors require the assistance of others to produce works fit for the reading public, and I am no exception. I am deeply indebted to several people who offered their time, talents, and insights.

  They include Cheryl Heldt, Esther Johnson, Becky Skelton, and Christine St
inson, who read the early drafts; Mary Heldt, Leslie Teske Mills, Neal Wedum, and Diana Zimmerman, who read later drafts; and Amy Heldt, Tedrick Housh, Jon Johnson, and Craig Stoess, who provided input on topics ranging from history and law to language and art.

  A big thank you goes to Laura Wright LaRoche for producing the striking cover. The Indiana illustrator modified a public-domain image that was first published on a postcard by Seawall Speciality Printing of Galveston and Houston, Texas, around 1919.

  I am also grateful to Aaron Yost for editing the final draft and several others for providing research assistance. They include staff from the Galveston Island Tree Conservancy, George Memorial Library (Richmond, Texas), Library of Congress, Los Angeles City Historical Society, Rosenberg Library (Galveston), Texas State Law Library, University of Texas at El Paso Library, University of Texas Medical Branch, and Water and Power Associates (Los Angeles).

  While writing this novel, I consulted several published works. They include Isaac's Storm by Erik Larson, Galveston and the 1900 Storm by Patricia Bellis Bixel and Elizabeth Hayes Turner, Story of the 1900 Galveston Hurricane by Nathan Green, The Complete Story of the Galveston Horror by John Coulter, Through a Night of Horrors by Casey Edward Greene and Shelly Henley Kelly, Death from the Sea by Herbert Molloy Mason Jr., and newspaper articles from the El Paso Daily Herald and Galveston Daily News.