She slid her arm in his and said, “Yes! Lets see if my idea holds water.”
Bill rolled his eyes at her joke and escorted her out of his den and down the long dark brown, carpeted hallway. She admired the paintings that hung on both walls and said with a wink as they reached the stairway, “Do the women of today do as they wish even when it might be frowned upon in some circles?”
“Mmmm, not sure how to answer that. Can you explain?”
“Rather,” she said as she slipped her arm out of his, “allow me to do something that I’ve wanted to do every time I come to a staircase with such an ornate banister.”
In a flash she hopped up onto the wide, polished banister and slid down to the bottom, leaving the banister with a “Yahoo!”
Not to be outdone, Bill hopped up, slid down and shouted “Yahoo!” as he stood next to her, both of them laughing.
Matt peeked out from the downstairs door to the dining room, shook his head and walked away.
They did the same to the next banister and once again Matt peeked out and down the long staircase, Perhaps time travel has an effect on travelers after all? he thought as he shook his head.
Bill opened the large glass and mahogany door to the vestibule and stopped before opening the door to the street.
“Elizabeth,” he said in a serious tone, “out there is a very different world than you are used to. No horses, but machines called automobiles and buses ride on the streets and you must watch before crossing them. Hold my hand as we walk and should you get nervous, just close your eyes and tell me.”
She nodded and Bill opened the door and escorted her to the stone stoop at the front of the club at 520 East Ninth Street. She stood still in awe for a moment and Bill squeezed her hand.
“W-What is that?” she asked as a group of motorcyclists drove noisily by.
“Just a group of motorcyclists. Sort of a powered bike.” Bill spotted a yellow taxicab and flagged it down. He escorted her to the curb, opened the door and waited as she hesitated to get in.
“Here, let me go in first,” he said as he slid past her. He held out his hand and she took it and followed him in.
“Where to, pal?” the thin man said with a Middle East accent.
“Third Avenue and Second Street, Brooklyn, please.”
“It’s-It’s’s horseless?” Elizabeth whispered with wide eyes as she clung to his arm.
“Yes, sit back and enjoy the view.”
The lady from the past sat back and looked out the tinted glass window as they sped along. The driver had to slam his brakes on more than a few times and Bill finally put her seatbelt on her and then he put his own on.
“Maybe you’ll like this better,” he said as he hit the down button and her window went down. The cab driver stopped next to a bus at a red light and besides the roar of its engine the exhaust blew hotly through the open window. She coughed as she fumbled with the buttons until the window went back up. After a few more blocks the driver had to swerve out of the way of a fire truck that flew by with it’s bells and whistles blaring.
“You must enjoy going back to my times very much, Bill?” she said as she sat back. “Everything here seems to be in a rush and has some type of horn or whistle to tell the others that they are coming through. How can you stand it?”
Bill grinned and shrugged his shoulders, “You get used to it, Elizabeth. But you are correct in saying that I enjoy going back to your time, as it is a much easier time.”
She sat up straight as she felt a strange vibration and heard a loud humming sound.
“Just the steel grating of the Brooklyn Bridge,” said Bill.
She shook her head and confided in him, “This is all so overwhelming. Why, so much has happened to me that the newspapers would pay anything for my story, but . . .?”
Bill smiled as he finished for her, ” . . . but nobody would ever believe you.”
She grinned and nodded. “May I ask you a question, Bill?”
“Of course, anything.”
“Do I travel around the world as I had planned?”
“Yes, you do.”
“And do I get seasick on the ship voyage?”
“Yes, again. But you beat it and have a great adventure.”
“Do I complete it in less than eighty days?”
Bill smiled, nodded and answered, “Yes, you do.”
The humming stopped at the same time the vibrations ended and they entered Brooklyn, made a left turn on Tillary Street to Flatbush Avenue and turned right. The cabby went up Flatbush Ave and made an illegal right turn on Third Avenue, mumbling, “Everybody does it. It saves time”. He drove seventeen blocks and arrived at Third Avenue and Second Street, pulled over to the curb and turned off the meter.
“Thirty-six bucks, pal.”
“Thanks,” said Bill as he handed him five, ten dollar bills, “Keep the change.”
They got out of the cab and across the street was a large building painted an off-white color. It had three large windows with security bars on them and a large sign over the double doors that read: The Iron Clad Manufacturing Company.
Bill offered his hand and they waited for a police car to shoot by, its siren wailing as its lights flashed, adding to the excitement. Bill felt her fingers tighten around his hand.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s everyday normal and nothing to worry about.” He led her across the street and into the building.
A young woman that sat behind a wide steel desk looked up as they entered.
“Good afternoon,” she said cheerfully, “May I help you?”
“Yes, I believe that Matt Worthington called and set up an appointment with the plant manager?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, looking at her laptop, “Mister Seaman will show you around.” She pressed a button and in a moment the inside door opened and a tall good-looking man with jet black hair and a deep tan entered the room.
“Hi, I’m Robert Seaman, but please call me Bob.” He offered his hand to Elizabeth who said as she shook it, “I’m Elizabeth Cochrane.”
“And I’m Bill Scott,” added Bill as they shook hands.
“Well, what would you like to see in my plant?”
“Everything that we can,” said Elizabeth.
It was dark when they got into another cab for their ride home and Bill said, “Pretty impressive plant. I didn’t know that they had so many worldwide contracts.” He looked at a smiling Elizabeth and asked, “Did you see what you wanted to see?”
“Oh, yes! Yes indeed!” She turned and faced him as she continued, “You see, Bill, I had an idea that certain parts of a large drum should be redesigned for better handling and seeing it here today, tells me to go ahead and patent my idea.”
Bill grinned, “Then being aboard the ghost ship was worth it?”
“I’m not so sure about that, but it was an adventure . . . and one that I can’t tell anyone except perhaps my future grandchildren.”
He nodded in agreement, “We both have that problem. Shall we return to the club?”
“Yes, and then home for me. I find these times a bit too fast and very noisy.” She smiled as she held his hand, “With you being able to travel in time there is no excuse for you to not come back and visit me. Is there?”
He returned the smile, “No, there is none.”
“Good. I shall enjoy taking a walk through the park with you where none of this smoke and noise has been born yet.”
DATELINE: OCTOBER 20, 1889 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY
The wind had a chill in it as both Bill and Elizabeth stood in the club’s garden. She wore a long, black and white checked coat with a high-buttoned neck that covered a long brown dress that also buttoned at the neck. On her head she wore a matching cloth hat. Black woolen gloves and black low-heel leather shoes completed her outfit until Bill demanded that she take the brown alligator bag with some money for transportation.
“Are you sure,” asked Bill as he pulled his dark brown overcoat tight as the wind
tried to undo it, “that I can’t ride home with you?”
“No, bad enough that my mother will wonder why I’m back so early and didn’t take the boat ride . . . that will be enough to explain.”
Hearing the creaking sound of a carriage coming, Bill said as he put his hands on her shoulders, “ Elizabeth, this has truly been an adventure. Please don’t get upset, but, . . . “ he quickly leaned in and kissed her cheek.
She blushed and said, “I could never get upset with another fellow adventurer, Mister Bill Scott. I do hope that you come and visit me and perhaps I shall walk past your club every now and then.”
Seeing Bill wave, the cab driver pulled over to the curb and one minute later it was rolling away with Elizabeth, Nellie Bly, Cochrane, waving goodbye.
Bill reset the Time Frequency Modulator to April 12, 2014 and pressed the activate button, opened the heavy security door and went upstairs.
DATELINE: APRIL 12, 2014 11:30 P.M. PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY
Bill sat at his desk as Samson curled up under it. The time traveler opened the laptop and brought up the Time/Message Program and typed in: ‘Message from Bill Scott, 1800 Club to Jerry Sullivan; Re: Nellie Bly Mission.
Hi Jerry. The Nellie Bly Mission has been taken care of with everything back in order. My full report will follow within the next few days. However, I would like to meet with you for a quick chat. Let me know when and where.
Regards, Bill Scott, President, The 1800 Club.’
He pressed the send button and sat back in his chair.
Less than two minutes later his message was answered.
‘Hi Bill, and congratulations on another fine mission. We look forward to your report as they always make great reading. We can meet right now and if that’s good, I’ll be knocking on your door as soon as you tell me it’s good.
Regards, Jerry Sullivan, History Tracking Group Member.’
Bill typed back, ‘Okay,’ and in another moment there was a tap on the door at the rear of his den.
Samson was at the door in a flash and Bill said, as he opened the door, “It’s okay, fella, It’s a friend.”
The door opened and a smiling Jerry stood there with his hand outstretched.
“Hello, Bill. It’s always a pleasure.”
Bill shook his hand and said as he closed the door behind him, “Same here, Jerry, we ought to have these get-togethers more often and not just over missions.”
Jerry nodded, “Right you are.”
Bill pointed to one of the brown leather easy chairs and said as he took the other chair, “Grab a seat, Jerry. Can I get you something to drink? Soda or something stronger?”
Jerry shrugged and smiled as he said, “Scotch would be fine. Straight over ice.”
Bill got up and made two scotch on the rocks and after passing one to his visitor from the future, said, “Cheers and happy results on all missions.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
They both took a sip and Jerry looked around and said approvingly, “I love the feel of this room. So relaxing.”
“I have to give the credit to past president Prescott Stevens. I’ve added a few pieces, but why change something if it works?”
“So,” asked Jerry as he swished the scotch around in his glass, “Is there a problem that you had to meet with me?”
Bill sat forward and with a look of concern on his face answered, “I’m not sure. There’s something that I’d like to do, but I’m not sure of the rules on this one.”
Jerry grinned and quipped, “I’ll let you in on a little secret: the rules are always changing in our work. Tell me what you want to do and we’ll talk about it.”
An hour later Jerry stood at the open door and as they shook hands said, “This was a good meeting, Bill and,” he said as he looked at his watch, “I’m glad that I wore the nose filters. As you suggested, it’s something that we should do more often. Like I said you have my blessing on your project and I’ll brief the rest of the group upline, just for the record. I’d love for you to write up this new mission for us to read when you return.”
Bill nodded in agreement, “Will do, Jerry. Say hi to the rest of the group.”
Bill closed the door and immediately buzzed Matt.
“You rang, sir?”
“Matt will you join me in my den, please?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Two minutes later there was a tap on the door and Matt entered. “Is everything good, sir?”
“Matt, I need to make a quick trip to Ireland and will need tickets and the usual stuff, plus this,” he said as he handed him a slip of paper.
Matt looked at the note, nodded and asked, “Where and what date do you need to be there and when do you wish to return?”
“Galway Bay on August 15,1865 and return the next day.”
Thirty minutes later Matt returned with a brown valise and Bill closed the laptop’s Google Earth maps of Galway Bay.
Mat placed the valise on the usual hassock and opened it. He said as he took out the clothes, “Sir, as most of the time that you will be away, you will be aboard ship, so I chose your outfits for them.”
“That’s fine, Matt.”
Matt took out a three-quarter jacket and said, “This is known as a Walking Coat. I packed two of them: one black, the second dark brown. While they look heavy, they are in fact, light but warm, for nighttime deck activities. A third jacket is called a Sack Coat, and it is navy blue. Once again, it may be used day or evening. All three are paired with a pair of trousers of the same color and may be mixed and matched giving you the appearance of having much more clothing than you actually do. Three pop-out tall hats matching the trousers, ten pairs of thin stockings in various colors, two pair of dress button down shoes with spats, one gray, the other black. Each jacket has a matching seven-button vest and five white shirts along with a dozen starched collars and five cravats with stickpins. I packed your underwear and two long nightshirts a bathing suit and your swim goggles. The usual toiletries along with a straight razor. Three pairs of black braces, rather, suspenders, each with a hidden money slot in them.” He then reached into the valise and unbuckled the last item Bill had asked for. “Finally, sir, a compact bolt cutter in a leather carrying case.”
Bill opened the carrying case and took out the 18-inch long steel, bolt cutter and smiled as he put it back into the case and then into the valise.
Matt reached into his pocket and passed him a leather money holder. “Six hundred dollars and sewn into the spine are six emergency diamonds.” He took out the usual communicator/ hairbrush and placed it back in. “We’ll test the communicator before you depart, sir.” Next Matt passed him a folder and said, “First class ticket aboard the Cunard Liner, the SS China which departs the Fourteenth Street pier at ten a.m. on August 4, 1865 and docks in Galway Bay on August 14. It is raining the day you depart so I’ve placed an umbrella near the door for you. Feel free to dispose of it rather than having to carry it around. Your trip home will be aboard the Hamburg-American ship, the SS Bavaria, which leaves Galway Bay on August 16. Will you need anything else, sir?”
Bill shook his head, “Whew! Matt, as usual, you thought of everything. However, this time I’ll be packing my Kindle. I feel that I’ve been aboard a ship so many times in the last month that I plan on sitting in my room and just reading, even having my meals there.”
“I understand, sir. What about charging your Kindle?”
Bill held up a slim, gray reader and said, “Jerry sent this downline to me. The batteries last for two months before needing a charge. I’ll be spending the next hour or two downloading books to read.”
“Well done, sir. Well done. When do you plan to leave?”
“First thing tomorrow morning.”
Matt nodded and for one moment Bill could tell that he wanted to say something. “Is everything okay, Matt?”
“With me, yes sir. However I wonder if you are ready to take another mission so soon after . . . well, after . . .”
“After the last one?”
Matt nodded, “Yes, sir. Perhaps I should take this one, or Mister Perna or Brand?”
This time it was Bill who nodded, “I thought of that, Matt, but this is something that I must do myself. And I do feel that I am up to it.”
“Very well, sir.” He headed towards the door and said, “Dinner this evening, sir, is potato pancakes, Canadian bacon, apple sauce and red cabbage followed by a Charlotte Russe and a Vanilla egg cream.”
Bill fell back in his seat, “Matt! That’s fantastic! Did you get the Charlotte Russe from 1957?”
“Actually, sir, it was in 1956 in Steven’s ice cream parlor. They also make the best egg creams. It seems that Samson likes that time slot a lot as he always visits the same fire plug when I shop there.”
“You mean the same, ‘Johnny pump’?”
Credit: Madge McKeithen
Matt just rolled his eyes as he left the room.
After breakfast the next morning, Bill dressed and stood in front of the full-length mirror. He was wearing the black, three-quarter Walking Coat, with matching vest over a white shirt and black cravat with a small pearl stickpin. His black pants draped gently on the toes of his highly polished black shoes which allowed a flash of gray spat to be seen as he walked. In one of the two small vest pockets he had a gold pocket watch while its chain draped slightly before it entered the opposite pocket. Bill took out his TFM and entered in August 4, 1865, 8 a.m. He popped up one of the tall silk hats and put it on, picked up the valise and umbrella as Matt opened the door.
“Good luck, sir,” said Matt.
“Thanks, Matt. I’ll send you a communication check as soon as I can. See you soon.”
Matt and Samson watched as Bill closed the door behind himself.
DATELINE: AUGUST 4, 1865 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY
“As Matt said, it is raining,” Bill said to himself as he opened the large black umbrella. It was one of the large, sturdy types and he needed it as the rain came down heavily and at times slanted in with the wind. “Boy, I could use a third hand,” he said as he dug out the key from around his neck and opened and closed the gate behind himself. He started to walk to the cabstand a few blocks away when one turned the corner and came up his street.
Book 11 Page 13
