The Willard

by LeAnne Burnett Morse

  “I’m not certain. I’ve always known Mrs. Fordham to be in excellent health. Is there anything I can do for her to make her more comfortable?”

  “Have some mint tea and a light dinner sent up. Her stomach may be a bit upset, but it will be good for her to have something to eat if she can. As I said, I’ll come back to check on her when I return to the hotel for the evening. I’ll be at the National for a performance this evening, but please do send for me if she should have any problems in the interim.”

  “Very good. Thank you, Dr. Mitchell. Good evening.”

  “Good evening to you, Mr. Chase.”

  Chase knocked gently instead of ringing the bell and as he knocked he used his passkey to open the door while calling out her name. He didn’t want her to have to come to the door if she wasn’t up to it. She heard him and asked him to come to the parlor where she was standing at the window and looking distressed. Chase was immediately concerned.

  “Olivia, are you alright? Shall I get Dr. Mitchell?”

  “Edward, tell me what you see outside this window.”

  “Olivia, let me explain.”

  “Explain? Please, Edward, tell me what you see.”

  Chase crossed to the window where she was holding back the drape. He looked down. “I see a variety of cars from the early twentieth century, several horses and many pedestrians that look like they are from—”

  “From the Edwardian era,” Olivia finished his sentence.

  “Yes. What I don’t understand, Olivia, is your reaction to what you see.”

  “That’s because I’m usually the only one who can see it. I’m trying to figure out how you see it too and, to be honest, I’m scared of what this means.”

  She walked to one of the sofas and sat down. He sat in a chair next to her.

  “Scared of what?” he asked. Chase had seen others express fear when they first realized what was happening, but this seemed different to him.

  “Scared that my condition is getting worse. Scared that I’m in some kind of parallel state, outside of reality. I’m not sure if I’m even conscious really. Maybe I’ve had a stroke. I can’t tell if any of this is real.”

  “What condition, Olivia?”

  She looked truly afraid, something Chase had never seen in her face before. He couldn’t even imagine her being afraid. She was one of the strongest women he had ever met, but she was clearly shaken when she looked at him and began to fill in the blanks.

  “Three years ago I started having headaches and weakness in my right side. I thought it was age at first or my packed schedule, but it wasn’t long before other things started happening—things that scared me. One morning I was working in my office at home and I became confused and unsure of what I was doing. I’d been working for a few hours so I decided to take a walk to clear my head and get some fresh air. While I was walking I experienced flashes of places and people who were out of place. Over the next several weeks, this progressed to entire episodes that lasted for hours. During these episodes I would see things like what I’ve just seen outside the window. Sometimes it was images of different time periods and other times it was of different places. But it wasn’t just hallucinations. I could see these things, but I could also feel, sense, smell and touch them. I could interact like I was really there. Once I spent four hours walking along the Seine in Paris. Another time I spent an hour on a ship in the middle of the ocean.”

  Chase was listening with rapt attention. He could see that she was troubled by what she was telling him.

  “I realized I needed to see a doctor so I made an appointment. Before I could see him I had the first seizure. I ended up in the hospital and went through days of testing. I didn’t have any more symptoms while I was there so they sent me home to await the results. During those few days I had more episodes that got longer and more involved. I spent two days in my apartment, but it was my apartment as it appeared fifty years ago. Like today, everything outside the window was of another era and so were my clothes and everything I touched.

  My doctor called me to his office and broke the news that there was a tumor growing in my brain. It’s not malignant, but it’s too intricately placed to be easily removed. Taking it out could cause much greater problems. Since I had an explanation for the symptoms I felt comfortable telling the doctor about the episodes I was having. I was glad to know I wasn’t crazy and he didn’t think I was either.

  It’s a little late to make a long story short, Edward, but eventually my doctor and I decided to let things progress and see what happened. I hired my good friend Jane to be my nurse but we don’t tell anyone that’s her job. I refer to her strictly as a traveling companion and she’s the only one besides my medical team who knows the truth. When I have these episodes she helps keep me safe while I wander through an unreal world. She reschedules appointments until I’m feeling better and she makes sure nothing falls through the cracks. She keeps in regular contact with my doctors and I don’t know what I would have done without her the last two years.”

  Chase couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew Olivia as a take-charge woman who could run an army of people, throw a charity gala, and develop companies from the ground up. He couldn’t imagine her being at the mercy of something like this and how she was able to keep it secret. He was also touched that she trusted him enough to tell him about it and she didn’t seem to be ready to stop talking yet.

  “The truth is, Edward, I came to enjoy these episodes. They seem so real when they’re happening that it’s a little like traveling through time and space to experience things and people and places I would never get to see. In my life I’ve seen a lot of the world—more than most. But when this happens it’s like going on a magical journey that has endless possibilities. When it happens I’m not scared. But now you tell me you can see the same thing I see outside the window which does scare me because it means things are getting worse. Though the tumor is not malignant it is growing and as it does it will take away my mental function as well as physical abilities. You may wonder why I’m not having it removed but I’ve talked at length with the surgeons about that option and now I’ve waited so long that the surgery would likely rob me of the essence of who I am. I might live but I probably wouldn’t be the “me” that you know. Or that I know. So I opted to let it take its course and to go along for these exciting rides whenever they come. But since you’re sitting here telling me that you see it too it’s apparent that something more severe is starting. I think perhaps we should get Jane. She can contact my New York doctors and make arrangements to get me home.”

  Olivia seemed utterly defeated and Chase realized he had a problem on his hands he had never experienced before. He wanted to reassure her that she wasn’t having a severe episode, but everything was so complicated now that he hardly knew how to explain the situation to her. The woman was obviously even stronger than he had known. He would start with first things first.

  “Olivia, I can’t get Jane for you because she’s not here.”

  “But you said she had checked in to the hotel.”

  “Yes, she checked in but she could not make ‘the trip’ with you.”

  “I don’t understand, Edward. She should be next door.”

  Chase realized for the first time how ridiculous his explanations must sound when he has to help travelers understand what’s happening.

  “Yes, she is next door in 2016. But we’re not in 2016 anymore. Today is March 1, 1913.”

  Olivia stared at him without a response.

  “What you’re seeing is not a result of a tumor and you aren’t experiencing an unreal world, Olivia. Jane isn’t here because you and I have gone somewhere she cannot go.”

  “I don’t understand, Edward. It sounds like you’re saying we’ve gone back in time.” Olivia was rubbing her temples with her hands and he could see that she was trembling.

  “That’s exactly what we’ve done Olivia. And it’s all my fault.”

  CHAPTER 15

  CATH
ERINE PARKER

  1865

  Catherine opened her eyes and looked around for Laura and Mr. Chase. The cold water and a few minutes rest had perked her up and she was eager to get some answers for the questions swirling around in her head. Nothing made sense, starting with Lawrence Cameron’s name on the Italianate house where the shiny glass office building should have been. My meeting was supposed to be with Lawrence Cameron IV, some sort of descendant maybe? She shook her head to clear the cobwebs. Descendant? Am I really thinking that way, like I’ve somehow traveled back in time? I must still be asleep, but I don’t know how to wake up from this dream. I’ve got to figure a way out of this or I’ll sleep through my real meeting. Wake up, Catherine! Nothing.

  She slapped her cheek. “Wake up, Catherine!” she said, this time out loud.

  “Are you alright my dear?” It was Laura. She sat down and put her hand to Catherine’s forehead, checking for fever.

  “Laura, something is happening to me. I think I might be having a dream and I can’t wake up.”

  “Have you been ill?” Laura asked and Catherine’s adamant head shaking was her answer.

  “I don’t mean to be indelicate, dear, but is it possible you have had spirits that might have caused your thoughts to be muddled?” She laughed softly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of if that’s the case. I may have done that once or twice myself, by accident of course,” Laura said soothingly.

  “You think I’m drunk?” Catherine sounded indignant but then realized a hangover sounded more plausible to a stranger than being in a waking dream. “I’m not drunk. I went to my room for a short nap and when I woke up I was here.”

  “Weren’t you here at the hotel when you laid down for your nap?”

  Catherine sounded exasperated. “I don’t mean here, like this place. I mean HERE, in this time!” She knew how ridiculous this all sounded and dropped her head into her hands. Just then Mr. Chase returned to her side.

  “Ms. Parker, I understand you have had a very trying afternoon. Why don’t we let Ms. Keene get back to her business and I will try and help you sort this out. I believe I can explain everything.” He turned to Laura. “Ms. Keene, you have a guest waiting in the lobby. Please don’t worry about Ms. Parker. I will see to her and find you a bit later to update you on her condition,” he said calmly.

  Laura hated to leave Catherine when she was so clearly distraught, but she did have an appointment and Mr. Chase seemed to have things in hand. Besides, she wasn’t really sure what to say next to calm the young woman.

  “Very well, Mr. Chase. I will see to my appointment but when I return I will check in on Ms. Parker. Would that be alright with you, Catherine?” she asked.

  Catherine nodded her agreement and Laura went to meet her guest. Chase sat down beside her and poured her another tall glass of water.

  “I’m so sorry for your distress, Ms. Parker. I assure you there was no other way to get to this point. And when I have explained everything to you I believe you will understand the importance of having you here at this place at THIS time.” He handed her the water glass and she looked at him with eyes that seemed to plead for an explanation, anything to convince her she wasn’t going crazy.

  Edward Chase took a deep breath and seemed to steady himself for the words he was about to speak.

  “Ms. Parker, today is April 12, 1865. In two days the President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, will go to Ford’s Theatre to see your new friend Laura in a play titled My American Cousin. While he’s there John Wilkes Booth will assassinate him. You are here to make sure that happens.”

  And with that, Catherine Parker finally fainted.

  CHAPTER 16

  TOM KELLY

  1962

  Tom was ushered to a seat on one of the sofas that face each other in front of the fireplace. The president’s desk was to his left. Tom remembered photos of little John Kennedy climbing under the desk and through the modesty panel. He also remembered the desk was a gift from Queen Victoria and had something to do with a ship. The Resolute, he thought. Jackie had wanted to use it. Jackie! Is Jackie Kennedy in this house right now? The thought of it made him smile. He might not have a law degree, but meeting Jackie Kennedy; now that would impress his mother.

  The room was fairly crowded with men in dark suits huddled in small groups. A man turned to Tom and introduced himself. There really was no need.

  “I’m Robert Kennedy, Attorney General,” he said as he offered his hand. Same Boston accent. Same distinctive face.

  You’ll never be president. You’re going to be shot dead by a crazy man in a hotel kitchen in a few years. The thoughts were coming fast and furious in Tom’s mind. Could he just say it like that? Just blurt it out?

  He had a sudden thought. Those bath salts! That must be it. Somebody spiked the salts. Or maybe they were those drug things the kids call bath salts today. Do you put those in bath water or is it just slang for a drug you ingest? It didn’t matter. He had to be high. He had never been high, but he had studied the drug culture for a film he worked on in college and he’d interviewed kids who described vivid alternate realities while riding the substance wave.

  Leave it to me, Tom thought, to spend the one drug high of my life on a nerd-dream about politics instead of something like leaping tall buildings or picking Technicolor mushrooms with the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.

  “Mr. Kelly?”

  Tom realized both Kennedys were staring at him and waiting for a response.

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking about, um, something I read. What was your question?”

  The president responded. “We’re just wondering about your initial response to the report. I know you’ve only had a few minutes to look it over, but your insight is likely to be different from everyone else’s in this room and we’d like to hear what you think,” he explained.

  Tom hadn’t read the report but he knew enough about what was happening from history classes that he decided he had no choice but to try and BS his way through until he could figure a way out of this room.

  “I think the Russians doubt your resolve, Mr. President,” he answered with false confidence.

  “Doubt his resolve?” responded the attorney general. “How can they doubt it with all those American ships parked off the coast of their island launch pad?”

  Tom was not shaken. He had no idea where the bravado was coming from.

  Why yes, White Rabbit, I believe I will have tea at the Mad Hatter’s table. Two lumps please.

  “They think you’ll blink,” Tom responded. That’s what this was about, right? Brinkmanship? Who blinks first? The world’s most dangerous game of chicken, only he already knew the outcome.

  Queen? What queen? I like my head right where it is, thank you very much.

  The two Kennedys whispered together for a moment and Mrs. Lincoln tapped Tom on the shoulder and handed him a folded sheet of paper. The note read:

  Mr. Kelly,

  A very urgent matter of a personal nature requires your attention at the Willard at once. Please return at your earliest convenience. (The rabbit says it is not tea time.)

  Edward Chase, concierge

  Tom stared at the note in his hand in stunned silence. I am really, really high.

  Just then the Kennedys turned back to Tom. “The problem, Mr. Kelly, is that somebody has to blink first. The question is, how many will die if it’s us?”

  The room began to spin and Tom heard his own voice.

  “Mr. President, I sincerely apologize. Something has come up that I must deal with at once. I beg your pardon but I need one hour for . . .um. . . .further research.”

  “Of course,” said the president. “Take the hour. As you know, Mr. Kelly, we cannot afford to be wrong.”

  CHAPTER 17

  CALVIN WALKER

  1963

  Calvin was having a terrible time trying to get his head around what Chase was telling him. Chase decided to take him for a walk around the area to help him come to g
rips with where he was. As they walked up 14th Street, Calvin felt like he was in a dream state. The vehicles, the way people were dressed, the items in the store windows, even the way people spoke to each other. . .it was all different than the day before. He had been to Washington many times and there had always been a cosmopolitan air about the city, but now he noticed there was no mingling of the races and no trace at all of anyone of obviously foreign descent. Most of the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen in this area so near the White House were white. Groups of black men and women moved about, but they kept to themselves and Calvin cringed when he noticed most would put their heads down and step aside for the white citizens to pass on the sidewalk. He couldn’t remember enough Jim Crow era history at the moment to know whether or not Washington D.C. establishments were truly segregated in the early 60s, but from his observation it didn’t seem to matter what the law said. The races were separating themselves from each other.

  Calvin thought about his company, Diagnosis Digital, and the members of his leadership team. He was the founder and CEO, a black man with a good education and no personal frame of reference for discrimination other than some redneck boys in high school. His team was made up of men and women of different races and ethnic backgrounds. Their tech staff was like a melting pot. Every area of the world map was represented plus they had gay and straight staffers, religious and non-religious people, and a couple of leftover counter-culture hippie types from the peace and love generation. His company was well known for recognizing people for their merit and hard work and nothing about where they came from or what they looked like had any bearing on their ability to succeed. Sure, he had grown up in the South, but he was born in 1969 and his upper-middle-class parents plus above average surroundings insulated him from the more gritty aspects of Southern race relations. Everything about what he was hearing from Chase and seeing on the streets of Washington was unsettling him. It was one thing to read about it in a history book, but another thing entirely to see it with your own eyes.