Storm Surge (Quantum Touch Book 5)
Page 36
I told them I didn't know, but they might be smart to talk to Ms. Chambers. Liz had helped Fritz with the first tournament and unless I could find him, she would be their best bet. I made a note to talk with her, but how would I explain Fritz's situation? Once again, a burst of anger sizzled in me that he'd chosen to leave when so many people were counting on him. I hadn't ever considered how much we all impact each other's lives.
Anxious to return to my own, I told the class to get back to work. I opened the fifth book, Koppler's self-absorbed memoir of his service in government. I would never read it. Why Fritz had bought it surprised me on so many levels. I turned to the pictures and returned to my trip into the Koppler family history.
I had gone twice to this scene. I walked into the middle of a party and left immediately. I reset the paperclip to re-enter to a more remote spot. Before I returned, I looked at the pictures of an estate with a large Georgian brick house, surrounded by gardens and a huge lawn in the rear. The house looked as large as a three-story football field. Wanting to avoid being spotted, I set the clip at a shrub-hidden spot on the side of the house, and poked my head into the portal. Three fully grown rhododendrons that had only a few flower petals remaining concealed my entrance. I estimated a late spring event. About thirty feet away, three men stood talking. All three wore tuxedos and held champagne glasses, as their guests, I assumed they were guests, milled around and some stopped to say a word. In the background, a large open tent enclosed a dozen or more tables corralled by folding chairs. Long serving tables down one side provided a choice of food to the line of people holding plates out to the servers.
If Fritz had come here, he probably didn't stay long, but two former presidents, waiting to greet their hosts, held me in place. After my close scrutiny, the three men standing and holding court for the plebeians were related, one somewhat younger than the other two. No doubt remained that, even in younger form, these were the men we had been chasing. I stepped back to the present, but as I crossed the portal, I could sense Fritz's essence, almost as if he'd sent off a foreboding, ghostly message. I noted then that I would search that book again.
Class ended and the next began, pretty much without me. I needed to get through the remaining books, and plan my next steps. Maybe for the first time in my teaching career, the kids just didn't matter. I finally understood what Fritz meant by the portal at work.
The next book I opened with mixed feelings. Churchill. But Fritz had selected a photo of him as Prime Minister during World War II. As one of the best-protected people in the world, he hadn't met us yet. Spending the Second World War in a British prison didn't appeal to me, so only a peek and gone. Too bad, because I've always been curious what 10 Downing Street looks like on the inside. I stepped in, saw him yelling at someone, waving his cigar, and caught his eye. I left before he could say a word. Likely, he said nothing about a sparkly rectangle appearing and disappearing. But he would remember it, and maybe even me.
As if I were living in a time-lapsed day, classes came in, sat, looked at the assignment, and wrote. If they were noisy or misbehaved, I didn't notice. As if I were in a sound-proof bubble, I kept working my way through. Jane said to put down as much detail as I could remember, so before the day ended, I reread my notes and added the little things. When the final bell rang, I had made it to the last book. I'd visited Dallas, stood in Dealey Plaza, looking up at the Texas Schoolbook Depository and listening for those supposed additional gunshots, but too many people nearby sent me scurrying back through the portal before President Kennedy's motorcade reached me. Then I went in search of Ben Franklin, who we'd met before, and who I hoped would remember me. As I stepped in, I saw Franklin walking in quick-step toward me.
“Mr. Gilbert, nice to see you again. Is Mr. Russell on his way?”
“Afraid not, Dr. Franklin. He's lost somewhere in time. I'm looking for him. You haven't seen him by chance?”
“Sorry, m'boy, but I haven't. If I do, I'll let him know you're searching.”
I thanked him, shook his hand and left him to explain whatever any of the others might have seen. I checked the caption on the page to see again where I'd been. The Constitutional Convention. Franklin had only recently returned from years in France and his jovial welcome indicated to me his happiness to be home.
As my last class departed, I began to pack up. The last book could wait. The picture's caption read, “Good news or bad, he was there.” Lincoln leaned over the telegraph operator's shoulder, reading an incoming message. I wanted to speak to George, but before I could get out my door, I had visitors.
“Hi Mr. Gilbert,” Rachel and Nicole said in unison.
“Hi girls. I'm going to the office and then I'm leaving.”
“That's okay,” Nicole said. “We'll walk with you.”
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
They crossed the room to my desk, looking around to be sure we were alone. Rachel asked in a conspiratorial whisper, “Is Mr. R off spying again?” I think my hesitation alerted them, something I regretted right away.
“What's wrong? Can we help?” Nicole asked.
Rachel said, “We won't say anything, Mr. Gilbert. You know we can keep a secret.”
Their offers, as genuine as any I've ever had, tempted me to tell them, but when my classroom door opened again, my instinct to keep them ignorant took over. “No girls, I haven't spoken with him. Maybe he ate too many turkey sandwiches.” They left, but neither of them took their eyes off me on the way past Liz Chambers and out the door.
“Hi, Liz. What can I do for you?”
“I just spoke with Susan and Jay. They said you told them to talk to me about the tournament.”
“I did. They're getting antsy because Fritz hasn't been around.”
“Ashley, I have no idea how Fritz set this up. You know more than I do.”
“You know Fritz gave the kids the credit for 'their' tournament.” She nodded. “Well, he meant it. Once the teams were chosen and the teachers assigned, he kept George mollified and gave them advice when they asked.”
“What about all the questions?”
“You still have the list, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“And Susan probably has marked off every used question, so that's a start.”
“Isn't he coming back? Did something happen?”
“Between us, okay. Your oath to the president, okay?”
“The portal?”
“Yup. He went in and the power shut off. He could be anywhere.”
I didn't elaborate. Her stunned look froze on her face until she asked, “Can anyone find him?” I told her to take a seat and gave her a synopsis of all that had happened since she had learned about the portal. I watched her eyes grow wider as her eyebrows inched higher. Her hand reached up slowly and remained covering her mouth as I related the events of the past few days.
“Ashley, I'm so sorry. You have a tremendous burden to carry. Poor Linda. She has to be rolling in guilt. How awful for all of you. Look, I know I can't be much help, but if you need me, please don't hesitate.”
“Thanks, Liz, but for now, if you can handle the tournament, I'd be grateful. I'm sure Fritz wants to see it work out. Let the kids tell you what needs to be done. I know you can handle George.” At that point, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, we had a short laugh.
As she left, she turned and said, “Good luck. And you have some visitors.” Nicole and Rachel were standing at the door.
“Girls, I need to speak to Mr. McAllister and then I need to leave. Walk with me to the office, but make it quick.”
Rachel said, “Mr. Gilbert, we just wanted you to know that whatever you need from us, like taking over your classes or something, we'll do it. You know—if you need to help Mr. R.”
I stopped and turned to them. “Rachel, Nicole, I really appreciate your offer. And you can help me. It'll mean you can't be in the tournament, but I want you to help Ms. Chambers and the tenth graders set things up.”
“Girls, you took an oath to the president. It's possible he may be gone for a while. You said you know how to keep a secret. So no one can know. I trust you, okay?”
To end what had been one of the strangest days I'd ever had teaching, I spoke to George about what had transpired only three days earlier. His usual annoyance with a crimson touch never materialized. When I told him that I would be using the portal as long as necessary to track Fritz down, he asked if he could help. My first thought matched the one Fritz would have had. The portal at work? Until now, I had never appreciated what must have weighed on Fritz nonstop.
“Thanks, George. I think you need to be prepared in case I can't find him.”
“Ashley, I know you will. I have complete confidence in you.” What a way to end the day. After ten years, he had paid me the greatest compliment ever. “Lois does too.”
* * *
I FINISHED MY notes about my glimpse of Lincoln, and spread the sheets from the pad on the dining room table. I stacked the books so I could review the places Fritz had paperclipped, and Jane could look over each stop.
When she came in, I had been searching for a clue as to where Fritz would have met Lee as he escaped across the Potomac. I remained convinced that Lee was the most likely target. Yet, safer spots, and certainly drier ones, made more sense as a meeting place. Fritz's mighty disdain for thunderstorms had a good reason.
“I ordered dinner,” I told her. “My notes are on the table. If you want to look them over while I pick up the food, we can talk about it while we eat.”
“Should we invite Linda?”
“No. Not yet. I want to do this with as little emotion as I can. You and I can do that. Do me a favor though. As you go through each scenario, think about if you get a feeling.” Jane's feelings have impressed me as to their accuracy in reality.
“Ash, you were in the portal all weekend. Your feeling is the one that counts.”
After dinner, she finished reading and making her own notes, and we started from the beginning, this time filling in details as she asked her questions. We'd covered all but Franklin and Lincoln, so we bagged it until morning.
Before wrapping up for the night, I gave a moment's thought to Linda. On Sunday, after my whole day in the portal, I asked her if the possibility that she might never see Fritz again had crossed her mind. When she grew angry, first at me, then at Fritz, I yelled at her, something I had never done before. When I told her that in my opinion she had behaved like a spoiled brat instead of a wife and mother, she launched into me about Fritz caring more about the portal than her or TJ. I retorted something unkind about her father and money, and our chat would have escalated if Emily hadn't stopped us.
“Ashley, stop now,” Emily said barely above a whisper. “Enough destructive words have been said in the past six months to last a lifetime. I won't allow either of you to wreck your friendship. You'll both need each other to get Fritz home.”
As I gazed at the ceiling, Jane kissed my neck. I told her I wanted to write Linda a letter to apologize. But I wondered if I could depend on Linda to help.
“Come to bed. It's getting late. You can do it tomorrow.”
“No, I want to do it now while it's on my mind. I won't be long.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” she said. “I went to the doctor today.”