Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book 14

by Robert P McAuley

  “But, I saw no cornbread, Jim.”

  “Mmm, what? Oh, no I meant with breakfast this morning. He took out a small notebook and read, “Breakfast today consisted of: A large order of hominy, four eggs, cornbread, muffins, flapjacks, two chops, fried potatoes, a ten ounce beefsteak and a gallon of orange juice. So you see I did have the cornbread.”

  “And you feel that it somehow has made you feel uncomfortable?”

  The big man shrugged as he flipped the page and said, “Maybe, maybe not. You see I had a mid-morning snack of three dozen clams at Paddy Diamonds, and then had lunch at the Stevens. There I had six shell fish, three deviled crabs, a stack of boiled lobsters, a slab of beef, with a big salad and for dessert three slices of pie and of course my orange juice to wash it down.” He once again flipped a page and said sheepishly, “Of course at tea time I went to McAvoys and had a platter of seafood and three bottles of lemon water, so perhaps it was not the cornbread that makes me feel queasy.”

  After dinner the two men sat on the bench seat out in front of the restaurant and smoked a cigar before walking home in different directions. Bill had to shake his head in awe as he remembered reading a book in which George Rector, owner of the New York restaurant, Rectors wrote, ‘Diamond Jim Brady was the best 25 customers I ever had.’

  Once home he checked on the furnace and was happy to see it still lit. He emptied the ashes and added more coal before going to bed.

  Bill woke early, took a shower and sat in the alcove sipping coffee and eating hard-boiled eggs. He looked at his pocket watch when the front door bell rang. “They’re here,” he said to himself as he trotted down the stairs. He opened the door and greeted the team of sixteen men.

  “Mister Scott?” asked the lead man as he looked at a work order in his hand.

  “Yep! Come on in, guys. Let me show you around.

  One hour later he left the building to the sound of jackhammers, steam engines and sawing. He smiled as he passed the two wagons parked in front of the building. Each had large white letters on its side that read, EDISON ELECTRIC COMPANY.

  He went over to the diner and read the newspaper as he had his second cup of coffee. He turned the page as he thought, “Well Bill, you will be the first building on the block to have electric lights.”

  The rest of the day he spent buying light fixtures. He picked up a bottle of milk, a loaf of bread some hand sliced bologna and two tomatoes and went home. It was five o’clock and the men were putting away their tools. The headman and Bill walked through the building as he showed him where the light switches were. All of the fixtures had a light bulb in them and the glare was intense. Bill paid the man and gave him a tip to be shared with the workers.

  Alone he walked once again through the building this time putting the lights out except for the one in the entranceway and on his floor. He decided that it was dinnertime and was surprised to find that the soft white bread he purchased had to be hand cut. He made a sandwich of bologna and tomato with a light spread of olive oil and enjoyed a glass of milk with it. Once again he said to himself, “Matt, I really miss you.”

  After dinner he went to wash up and loved the way the two lights reflected off of everything in the bathroom. He thought as he looked around, I’d probably end up putting one or two oil lamps in here rather then always using the lights. After his bath Bill lay in bed reading and enjoying a cup of tea. Boy. I never really read this much before. It truly is a gentler time I live in.

  The next morning Bill emptied the ashes, fed the fire and emptied the icebox’s drip pan. He made a not-so-great pot of coffee in his early coffee percolator.

  He turned on one of the gas stove top burners and placed the flat toaster over the flame. He quickly sliced two pieces of bread and placed them on top of the toaster. Bill fried two eggs and then discovered that the toast was burnt. He rescued them by using the flat end of the butter knife to scrape off the darkest part. He finally sat and ate his first homemade breakfast.

  He sat back and looked around at the bare light bulbs. “Now that we are wired, I’ll add globes and shades to all of the fixtures.”

  Suddenly from the open window he heard shouting and he looked out to see a man with a large wagon covered with burlap walking slowly up the street with the horse drawn wagon following. He was shouting, “Ice man! Ice man! Bill quickly ran to his icebox and opened the top door to see his dwindling block of ice needed replacement. Back at the window he called out, “Hey ice man!” The man with very broad shoulders looked up and nodded as he used an ice pick to cut a block of ice off of the much larger block of ice. He grabbed the block with a pair of iron tongs that dug into the block of ice and in one quick motion put it up on his burlap covered shoulder. Bill ran down and opened the door and the man entered. He was dressed in old heavy pants, high topped shoes, a cutoff sleeveless shirt with a piece of leather over his shoulder and a piece of burlap over that. He rested the block of cold ice on that shoulder and chomped on an unlit cigar as he followed Bill up the stairs. The ice man placed the block of ice in the icebox and said, “Twenty-cents, please.”

  Bill paid him and asked, “Would you like a cigar?”

  “Nope, thanks but I never smoke them. Just something ta chomp down on when I toss the ice up on my shoulder. Thanks all the same.”

  Bill grinned as he watched the man go back and chop off another block for another customer.

  For the rest of the morning Bill placed glass covers and lampshades over the naked bulbs. He went to the diner and had a salad, as he wanted to save his appetite for dinner.

  Back at his apartment he dressed in a pair of casual black slacks, turtleneck sweater, tan jacket and black canvas deck shoes. He took a long walk down to The Canvas Eatery a small restaurant opposite the New York docks. The wooden walls were decorated with canvas oil paintings of sailing ships on the high seas and illuminated by oil lamps that added a rich warm glow to the old wooden floors. The tables were various sized wooden reels that once held coils of rope and were almost covered with wax from candles. He admired the uniqueness of the personnel as they were all dressed as sailors and pirates. One came to his table and held a lit candle over the table allowing the wax to drip on it before placing it in the hot wax which dried and became a candle holder. By the light of the candle Bill ordered tuna steak with sliced potatoes and mushrooms. He sat by the large glass window and watched as wagon after wagon entered the port area to deliver to the ships or pick up cargo from ports all over the world. He suddenly felt sad knowing that this way of life for so many would disappear before too long. The thousands of men toiling at something they loved would have to seek other employment as mechanical devices replace them.

  After dinner Bill took the trolley uptown and was home by ten o’clock.

  Three weeks flew by and the weather grew colder which helped remind Bill to keep a good supply of coal on hand and the ashes removed daily.

  He had dinner once a week with Diamond Jim and on another night ate at The Canvas Eatery. To keep in shape he walked to as many places as possible and did aerobics by jumping rope.

  It was usually after dinner when he sat in his leather easy chair in front of his fireplace that he did his thinking. He liked to put out the electric lights and light up the oil lamps as he read and he usually drifted off to sleep in the relaxing setting.

  It was raining heavily and Bill placed another log on the fire. It was as he sat back that he thought, It would be great if Shirley were here tonight. He wondered, Why haven’t I contacted her? I haven’t even written her about my predicament. Why? He shook his head and picked up his book only to put it down again. Bill, what the heck is your problem? Why haven’t you got in touch with her? He picked up the book and tried to read again. It’s no good; you have to find the answer to that. Put the book down and think on this. He shook his head. I-I have things to do. I still have more furniture to buy. I have to get the place back in shape. I’ll write her as soon as I’m finished. Once again he put the book down. He got up an
d poured himself a gin and tonic, sat and downed the drink. Face it Bill, you’re afraid to see her without your ability to time travel. You have nothing to offer her. She’s a genius with a steel-trap mind and photographic memory that will go down in history as the great Sherlock Holmes. What do I have to offer? Nothing! I used to have the ability to travel in time but now that’s gone. I’m just a normal everyday guy with nothing to offer her and she’ll laugh at any wedding plans we might have spoken about. He grabbed a pad and scribbled some notations on it before setting his alarm for seven the next morning and went to bed.

  The alarm on his pocket watch went off at seven o’clock in the morning. He jumped out of bed and after a fast shower, ate some toast and eggs and, still dressed in his bathrobe went down to the basement. He opened the furnace’s iron door and cleaned out the ashes. He added no coal to the low flame and shut off the water feed and drained the water system. Back in his apartment he got dressed and packed a suitcase. He then put out all the lights except the one in the vestibule.

  He went over his checklist: Okay, Bill. Rather than hire someone to watch the building in case of an overnight freeze you emptied the water from the water pipes and the fire will soon go out without coal. The lights are off except for the entranceway so people will think there are people inside. Your bag is packed and you have cash on you as well as the two diamonds secured in your suspenders. Time for an overseas trip.

  He hailed a cab and climbed in as he called out, “The Cunard lines at the 14th Street docks, please.” He looked at his pocket watch and mumbled as he read the travel section of The Brooklyn Eagle newspaper, “R.M.S. Aurania leaves New York City from Pier 14 at 11:00 A.M. on October 5th, 1887.” He folded the newspaper and left it on the seat for the next passenger to read.

  The Cunard departure building was huge and sat on its own wide and long pier. Four large clocks that could be read from each of its four sides said that it was nine o’clock as Bill hopped out of the carriage, paid the driver and walked briskly to the entrance. Inside the door was an enclosed office with a window along with two stout men who, although well dressed were probably a form of security. Bill stopped at the window and an elderly man wearing a black visor on his forehead like a dealer at a gambling table said, “Your ticket, please.”

  “I wish to purchase one, sir.”

  He nodded and handed Bill a sheet of printed material. He filled out the form and after the man read it asked, “Class?”

  Bill passed him the required amount of money as he said, “First Class, please.”

  The man smiled and said, “Of course, sir.” He slipped him a ticket across the well-polished wooden counter after counting the money. “I do hope you enjoy your trip across, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Bill took his valise and entered the cavernous room where hundreds of passengers and their friends and relatives stood around saying their goodbyes. He walked past them and entered the covered gangway into the ship. His ticket stated that he was in cabin 116 and a young boy in a blue and white uniform asked to carry his valise. Bill allowed him and the boy led the way. He opened the cabin door and placed the valise on a flat seat at the foot of the bed. He smiled as Bill tipped him well and closed the door as he left the cabin.

  Bill locked the door and took out his communicator for the hundredth time and sent the usual message to Matt. He then placed it to charge in the sunlight provided by the large glass window and started to unpack. He nodded at himself in the mirror over the dressing table and thought, This is a first. I don’t remember ever going back and buying a ticket for a ship or airplane. Got to hand it to Matt, he did an awful lot that nobody knew about.

  Bill hung his three suits in the tall mahogany armoire then sat on the bed to look around. The cabin walls were painted a soft yellow with bluebell flowers with a slight drop shadow that made them look as though they were floating above the paper. The woodwork and ceiling molding were gold leafed while the floor was highly shined cherry wood. The bed he sat upon was large and had a soft yellow silk bedcover that showed off the large stuffed pillows in their periwinkle blue silk cases. On either side of the bed was a three-drawer night table, one of which had writing paper, pen and ink and a rocking ink blotter on it. Above both tables was a wall mounted oil lamp on a swivel arm. A round table sat to the left of the bed and had four high-back chairs with periwinkle blue cushions pushed in beneath it. Set in the wall facing the foot of the bed was a small fireplace with an iron grate that held a small bag of coal and also prevented it from spilling out in rough seas. A large scalloped gold-framed mirror hung above the cherry wood mantle. Bill opened the door to the left of the armoire and entered the bathroom.

  The walls were covered by six-inch by six-inch periwinkle blue tiles while the floor was one-inch hex-shaped black and white tiles. A white and gold-leaf wooden medicine cabinet with a swing out shaving mirror was mounted above the white and gold-leaf cabinet that held an oversized sink with hot and cold faucets. A deep soaking bathtub with an attached overhead shower curtain and a hand held showerhead on the end of a rubber hose stood in the end of the room. The soft yellow glow from two oil lamps filled the room with color.

  Less than an hour later the ship pulled away from the dock and as the hundreds of well-wishers waved to their friends and relations on the ship’s deck with him, he felt alone. Soon I’ll be with my love, he thought as he walked the deck. Right away the other thoughts took over: Are you doing the right thing by going to her? Won’t she see you as just an average guy with nothing to offer? He stopped and pounded the rail, Nothing to offer her? Why I’m a rich man! I have plenty to offer. He looked out at the ocean and continued his argument. You fool! You know Shirley is not that kind of girl. Money doesn’t faze her. He felt better and continued his walk.

  As usual a young man in a white uniform walked the deck ringing a dinner bell as he proclaimed, “Lunch will be served in the main dining room on the main deck in one hour.” An hour later Bill followed the crowd into the main dining room and was blown away by the ambiance. He knew that the ships were competing with the grand hotels of Europe and New York but this was fantastic. It turned out that the shipping line invested heavily by electrifying their grandest room, the main dining room and it showed as the creative use of lighting illuminated the great room off better than any oil lamps could have. If there was anything negative about it, it was the steady hum that they gave off. However that was only heard when the six-piece orchestra was quiet between sets and that was a minor nuisance compared to the visual they afforded.

  Bill took a round table towards the end of the room and soon had four tablemates. The dress for lunch was business attire and all wore three-piece suits with Bill the only clean-shaven face at the table. Thomas Claven was the eldest with a thick head of pure white hair including a curled up mustache, thick sideburns and a contagious smile.

  Edward Dillon was a tall man in his mid-thirties with a mop of red hair that seemed to wrap around his face as his beard and mustache covered most of it. James Muskey was a short pudgy man with thin black hair and a pencil thin mustache that curled up at the ends. His coal black eyes darted around constantly as he spoke. Finally there was Ken Gulf a house painter that found an old steamer trunk full of money in the basement of a building he was painting. He said, as his blue eyes twinkled and he twisted the dark brown and gray mustache between his fat fingers, that he tried to find the owner, but had no success and after two years decided to have some fun with it. He was looking forward to playing cards. The men sipped wine as they got to know each other and quieted down only after the menus were distributed.

  Appetizers — Roasted Corn Chowder Entrée — Baked Kohlrabi Tart Dessert — Freshly Sliced Cantaloupe Melon Duck Rolls & Mint Confit, Raspberry Gastric Baby Shrimp Cocktail, Marie Rose & Pumpkin Seed Biscuit Roasted Corn Chowder

  Chilled Tomato Soup with Gin & Basil

  Sandwiches — Butter Lettuce, Romaine, Choice of Dressings Selection of Cold Meats is Always Available

 
Croque Monsieur - Warm Ham & Cheese Sandwich

  Salads and Soups — Symphony of Seafood - Scallops, Salmon Mousse with Caviar & Tartare of Salmon Sevruga Caviar on Buck Wheat Blini

  Escargots Bourguignonne in Garlic Herb Butter

  Atlantic Seafood Bisque, Tarragon Pernod Cream

  Beef Consommé with Herbed Pancake Strips

  Chilled Artichoke Velouté

  Coffee, Tea, Milk, Orange Juice

  Two hours later Bill felt as though he was waddling away from the table. He decided to walk it off and walked the complete deck three times before going to bed.

  His days became routine as he ate his meal then walked the deck. After lunch the second day he went to the ship’s gym but was turned off by the fact that the passengers wore their everyday street clothing to work out. He stuck to walking the deck.

  The trip across the Atlantic took eleven days and soon he was standing on the sun drenched London dock taking in all the sights of the times. A little elderly lady selling fish out of a cart that seemed too big for her to push around called out her wares as men of all sizes did the same as they tried to push in front of her. Bill grinned as women who came to the dock to buy fish for their dinner squeezed through to buy from her. Little boys of six and seven years of age tried to shine your boots using a footstool that was almost their size. Other women with heavy makeup on walked slowly through the crowd trying to sell companionship only to be chased by the local Bobby who kept them moving with his nightstick. As on the docks in New York cats and dogs fought over the rats that scampered between the shafts of sunlight to get back into the dark shadows.