Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book 14

by Robert P McAuley

  He spotted the Nassau when he was two blocks away. Her tall single stack had a lazy plume of black smoke floating out over the water. Closer and he saw a single wagon and a group of people standing around for their place aboard the side-wheeler ferryboat. Bill knew that the first trip was scheduled at 10:00 A.M. and he sized up the crowd. Most stood around talking to each other but none stood by the ticket booth. He did a slow leisurely walk towards the booth and smiled as he saw a small man carrying a reel of tickets heading towards the same booth. As the man entered the booth from the rear nobody else saw him and Bill stepped up to the still closed window. Over the window was a sign that stated: One way trip: four cents. Commutation for a single person, not transferable, for 12 months, $10.00.

  In a moment passengers lined up behind him and in a few moments Bill had the first ticket to the ferryboat that would forever change the way New Yorkers commuted to and from work and home.

  The ferry sat large and beautiful, its steam engine throbbed as it waited to turn the large paddle side-wheel that would propel her across the 700 yards of open water to lower Manhattan in twelve minutes or less.

  The Nassau was a double-hulled steamship with a wide entrance that ran straight through from front to rear. A long bench type seat ran down the right and left hand sides of the ship and the center was wide and tall enough for horse drawn carriages. Bill was the first of 549 passengers and one wagon pulled by two horses to enter the large opening. Three well-dressed men rode their horses in and dismounted. They then stood and held the horse’s reins. A sharp blast from the whistle told all that she was about to leave the slip and most if not all of the passengers stood in the open front behind the closed gate. She left the wooden dock and entered the East River with her whistle announcing that she was going to go straight across the narrow waterway. It also announced that a new day had arrived in the ferry business.

  The cool breeze that entered the ferry was truly a breath of fresh air compared to the horse-waste laden air of the city. Bill and the rest of the passengers watched as the other ships, ferries and sailboats that plied the waters did their best to get across in as straight a line as possible and it was only because their captains were great seamen that none of them collided with each other.

  The ride was eleven minutes long and ended with a slight bump as she touched the slip in the Manhattan side. Seamen jumped from the ferry to the dock and quickly tied her up before opening the gates. The smiles on the passengers’ faces told Bill that they were sold on this new way of commuting. Businessmen were especially happy because they now could set a time for their meetings in the city and be sure that the ferry would make the trip on schedule. As they left the ferry Bill noticed the captain run off the ship and wave over a policeman. It was later that he read that the ferryboat’s chief engineer Lewis Rhoda was killed in a tragic accident in the engine room.

  The time traveler flagged down a small two-wheeled cab and in thirty minutes was back at the small hill of the much quieter section of the city.

  “Sure this is where ya want ta be, sir?” asked the cab driver.

  “Yes. This is the best time for bird watching. Thank you again,” Bill answered as he paid the fare and added a tip.

  With a shrug of his shoulders the cab driver turned his rig around and headed towards the busy city.

  Bill watched and as the cab went down the hill he returned to the spot in the woods where he had left the club. He spotted the three stones and after kicking them away, put his hand between the two trees and felt the cold doorknob of the club’s security door. Looking around and seeing nobody he unlocked the door and opened it just wide enough to fit through. Once inside he took out his Time Frequency Modulator and entered his password followed by JANUARY 10, 2016, 11:00 A.M. and pressed the activate button.

  DATELINE: JANUARY 10, 2016, 11:00 A.M. PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Bill trotted up the stairs and at his landing heard the familiar sniffing and scratching at the door as Samson greeted him from the opposite side. He opened the door and his beagle started his sniffing search for a treat. Ready for that, Bill took a dog cookie from his breast pocket and said, “Sit boy.” Samson sat immediately and was rewarded with the cookie. Bill saw that there was another yellow stick-it note next to his on the desk and he picked it up and sat on the couch. Immediately Samson joined him as he read it. It was from his right hand man Matt and read; Sir. I have gone back to January 9, 1854, to do a shop in Gruenvalds Sea Food Shoppe on Van Brunt Street in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn. They sell the very best scallops. I left at 10 A.M. and shall be back at around 6:00 P.M. this evening. Matt.

  7:00 P.M.

  The front doorbell rang and Bill put down the large glass bowl and licked his fingers as he ran out of the kitchen and into the vestibule. Through the frosted glass of the double doors he saw the shadows of two men, one six-foot two inches the other a wide shouldered five-foot ten-inches and he knew it was his time traveling friends John Brand and Rocky Perna. He opened the door to see them dressed in jeans and hooded jackets as they stomped their feet because of the cold.

  “Bill,” said John the taller of the two as he thrust his hand forward for a handshake, “how are you doing buddy?”

  “Great and you two?”

  “Fine, just fine,” answered Rocky for both of them as they shook hands.

  “Come on in and tell me that you guys are hungry.”

  “I know I am," quipped Rocky as he patted his stomach.

  “Same here,” added John as he handed him a bottle of wine.

  Bill pointed to a coat tree next to an old fashion, hissing radiator, “Hang your coats up there and they’ll be nice and warm when you leave.” He then looked at the bottle of red, smiled and said, “Red wine. Wonder how that goes with egg salad sandwiches?”

  Both Rocky and John looked questioningly at Bill.

  “Uhhh," Bill stammered, “that’s why I asked ‘are you guys hungry?’ See I figure you two would eat anything if you were hungry enough.”

  John matched Rocky’s shrug, “Hey if Matt burned the steaks you promised, egg salad sandwiches are good enough for me. It’s the company not the food.”

  “Yeah, same here.”

  “Follow me guys.” Bill closed the door and they followed him into the kitchen. At the center of the long gray and white speckled marble island was a large bowl of egg salad with a whipping spoon sticking straight up in it. “John, you’re in charge of whipping the eggs and Rocky you get the rolls out of the bread drawer. I’m slicing some tomatoes.”

  Rocky pushed his sleeves up. “Is Matt sick or something?”

  “Not sure, Rocky. Matt stepped back today and hasn’t gotten home yet.”

  John started to whip the eggs and added, “Not like him, is it?”

  “Naw. He left me a yellow stick-it saying he’d be back by six.”

  “It’s eight now,” said Rocky as he placed the rolls in the large wicker basket. “Think he’s okay?”

  Bill stopped slicing the tomato for a moment, “Hope so. I mean he could just be delayed for some silly reason. Heavy traffic, a lot of things.”

  “Yeah,” added John. “He’s a big boy. And look at it this way, now he’s owes us a steak dinner.”

  Twenty-minutes later the three sat in the alcove eating their sandwiches . . . but switched the wine for beer.

  Brandy and cigars followed as the three enjoyed the fireplace in the oil lamp lit den. They chatted about past time trips they had taken and Bill suggested that the three of them take a vacation somewhere in time when the three can get away.

  “Hey guys,” said Rocky as he ran his fingers through his thick black wavy hair, “I really hope Matt is okay. I mean even if he’s delayed he could easily dial up the time he said he’d be back. Right?”

  Bill agreed. “Right. But he’s like me and doesn’t like to come back earlier by changing the time. We both feel that it’s sort of cheating by coming back while we are still there. Know what I mean?”

>   “Yes,” said John. “If it’s ten o’clock you feel that by coming back when it’s six o’clock you are in the same time with another you walking around.”

  Rocky grabbed his temple and squeezed, “Ohh, you guys make me nuts with this time travel talk. The bottom line is; I think if Matt was running late then rather than worry Bill he’d set the time to get back when he said he would.”

  Bill nodded. “That’s what I think too.”

  “What can we do?” asked John as he scratched his military style blond hair. “Can we go back to when he left the den and warn him?”

  Bill nodded again. “Yes. But that’s drastic! That’s enough to scare the heck out of someone, you know like, ‘hey something’s going to happen to you on this trip. Watch out.’”

  Rocky nodded, “Better that than . . . well, than whatever.”

  “There’s another thing,” added Bill as he swished his brandy around in the glass, “Matt left after I was out. That means that if I go back and stop him from going I’ll be in two places at the same time.”

  “This is killing me,” moaned Rocky.

  “Well, I’ll wait till tomorrow morning and see if he returns.”

  Both men agreed with him.

  8:00 A.M. January 11, 2016

  Bill had set his alarm and was out of bed at eight sharp. He picked up the communicator and opened it then entered his password SAMSON, followed by ‘MATT. WHERE ARE YOU BUDDY?’ He sent the message and waited ten minutes for an answer then showered and dressed. He took Samson out into the garden and after the beagle’s walk, fed him as he made himself a cup of instant coffee. This coffee stinks, he jokingly thought after a sip, another reason I gotta get Matt back fast.

  Bill went to the den and took out his Time Frequency Modulator. “Here goes,” he said as he entered his password followed by JANUARY 10, 2016, 9:55 A.M. He went down the stairs at the rear of his den, and at the bottom pressed the activate button.

  DATELINE: JANUARY 10, 2016 9:55 A.M.

  Bill then went back up and into his bedroom. He heard Matt as he entered the den and opened the bedroom door. Matt turned and seeing Bill said, “Oh, sir. I thought you were out on a trip. Have you forgotten something?”

  “No. Actually, Matt I went and completed what I wanted to do. The fact is I came back and read your note telling me that you were stepping back to go to Brooklyn for scallops.”

  “Yes, I just wrote it,” he held the yellow stick-it up. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know, Matt but you did not came back when you said you would and I got nervous.”

  “Oh, sir,” he said with a grin, “I’ve made this trip many times and there have been times that the transportation to and from the Red Hook section of Brooklyn have been rather bad.”

  Bill shook his head. “No, Matt. This time you still have not returned by eight o’clock the next morning and never answered my communications.”

  “Oh, I see.” Matt sat on the couch looking stunned. “I’ve often wondered what would happen should one of us fail to return.”

  “I say we buy the scallops in the 1950s in a different section of New York. What do you think my friend?”

  “As I said, sir I have often thought of this scenario and its ramifications. And I have come to the conclusion that the trip must be completed.”

  Bill was stunned. “Completed? Matt it’s not like you are going back to save someone or fix history. It’s just a grocery trip.”

  “Exactly. Just a grocery trip, not a mission to fix history. What better way to get some answers.”

  “Answers for what? What if . . . well, what if you got hurt . . . or worse?”

  Matt nodded. “Yes. Or worse. I do believe that I must go back and get answers to questions that the people of the future and the 1800 Club have never asked.”

  “They probably never thought to ask because the obvious answer is to go back and stop you before you leave.”

  “Perhaps. And perhaps I am being foolish but I do believe that I must go back and see what lies ahead for me . . . and the club members.” He shrugged as he stood, “And at least this time I am forewarned.”

  Bill pressed the palms of his hands against his temple, “Matt. Can I please change your mind?”

  “Sir I feel it’s my duty to the members of the club to complete this trip. As you know I’ve already gone missing yet here I am. And I would never forgive myself if it should happen to Ms. Holmes or someone else dear to us both.”

  “Don’t you think that you are also dear to me?”

  “I thank you, sir for that and hope that you allow me to proceed.”

  Bill slumped in his easy chair. “Matt I beg you to stay alert.”

  Matt opened the door to the past and said, “Thank you sir. I shall see you soon.” He closed the door and Bill jumped up and opened his Time Frequency Modulator and after entering his password typed, January 11, 2016, 8 A.M. He opened the door, went down the stairs and pressed the activate button.

  DATELINE: JANUARY 11, 2016, 8:00 A.M PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Bill came back up and ran to his desk and grabbed his cell phone. He dialed and after a few rings heard John Brand say, “Hey, Bill. What’s up buddy?”

  “John. This is an emergency. I need you and Rocky to get over here as fast as possible.”

  “Will do. I’ll call Rocky and pick him up. Sit tight.”

  Twenty minutes later Bill opened the front door for his two friends. “Come with me, guys. We need to get some period clothing.”

  “I take it that we’re going back to somewhere?” asked Rocky as they went up the stairs two steps at a time.

  “Yes, 1854 to be exact.”

  “Isn’t that the date Matt went back to?”

  “Yes, John. I’ll explain as we dress.”

  Once in the wardrobe Bill led them to the 1854 section and by luck found exactly what he was looking for thanks to Matt’s clipping which was attached to one of the outfits.

  He pointed to the three outfits and said, “To save time guys, point to the outfit you feel is right for you and change quickly.”

  John took the outfit that was shown in the drawing’s middle and Rocky took the one on the right leaving Bill the one on the left. All had white shirts, black hats and pants while John’s outfit was a combination of dark and light browns. Rocky’s outfit was black with a dark gray bow tie and Bills was pinstriped black and white with a long black coat. At his neck was a light blue cravat. As they changed he told them his plan.

  “Guys, when I saw that Matt had not returned when he said he would I waited a few hours then I went back to the time that he left. I told him that he never returned and asked him not to go on the trip.”

  “That makes sense,” quipped John.

  “Yes, but he said that it was his duty to find out why he didn’t return so that a club member on a mission wouldn’t be surprised should it happen to them.”

  “Wow!” said Rocky. “That’s dedication.”

  “Yes, but what if he dies on his trip?”

  Both John and Rocky were momentarily stunned. John recovered first and asked, “Did you point that out to him?”

  “In so many words, yes.”

  “And he still went out?”

  Bill nodded. “He’s doing this so that if any of us go out and whatever it is that prevented him from returning should happen to us, we’d know what to do.”

  “But,” asked Rocky with a shrug, “if he dies . . . what good is having that information?”

  “I know and tried to understand his thinking but you know Matt: when he makes up his mind there’s no changing it.”

  “So,” added John as he put on his shirt, “I’m guessing that we are dressing up to go with him?”

  “No. To follow him. If he knew we were following him he might do something silly and maybe we become the reason he doesn’t return.”

  Once again Rocky squeezed his temples, “You guys . . . this time travel is weird enough on its own never mind ad
ding more twists to it.”

  John grinned at his friend. “I get it. We follow discreetly so he doesn’t see us and try to duck and maybe get hurt.”

  “Exactly. I’m going to take us back to just before the time he left and we’ll be across the street from the garden so he doesn’t spot us. We’ll follow him at a distance and sort of look out for him.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” added Rocky as he checked himself out in the full-length mirror.

  “I had a few moments before you guys arrived so I put a few things together,” Bill said as he passed each of them a billfold. “Identification and period money.” He handed them three small diamonds each and continued, “Emergency funds for your money belts and . . .” he handed them each a small pocket hairbrush and added, “a small pocket hairbrush slash communicator.”

  Both checked them out, put the diamonds away and were ready.

  As the three time travelers went down to Bill’s den he entered SAMSON, his password, followed by DATELINE: JANUARY 10,1854, 9:20 A.M. into his Time Frequency Modulator. Bill knew that Matt was in his room getting ready for his trip and he quickly led them out the door and down the stone steps to the security door at the bottom. He pressed the activate button and they stepped out and into old New York.

  DATELINE: JANUARY 10, 1854, 9:20 A.M. PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB’S GARDEN, NEW YORK CITY

  The three men stepped out into a world of white as a dusting of snow covered everything.

  “Wow!” said Bill as he pulled his long coat tighter, “I never thought to check the weather. I guess that I always left that to Matt.” He looked at the path and said, “Luckily the snow hasn’t stuck to the pavers of the path yet or Matt would see that people had just left the club before him.”

  “I bet you that he’s dressed for it,” said John as he held tight to the brim of his tall hat.

  Bill pointed to the other side of the street, “Let’s cross the street before he comes out and sees us standing here.”