He started to retrieve the leather bag from the drawer when he saw Ed Morrison stick his nose through the doorway. Kevin closed the drawer and got up from his chair.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Kevin," Morrison said. "Do you have a moment?"
"I have all the time in the world. Come on in."
Morrison stepped into the classroom and walked to the teacher's desk. He wore the eyes of a man who'd had a long day. He wore the eyes of a man who'd been crying.
"I'm afraid I have some sad news."
Kevin froze as a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. What was this about? Why was the principal addressing him individually with sad news? Where was Sarah? He hadn't seen her since Tuesday afternoon. Where was Andy? Maude? Sadie? This couldn't be good.
"What news?"
"It's about Josh Miller."
Kevin sighed as relief and confusion replaced fear.
"What about Josh? Is he sick? He hasn't been in class all week."
"He hasn't been in class because he's been in Spokane."
"Is he OK?"
Morrison shook his head, looked down, and took a deep breath. When he finally collected himself, he pulled a slip of paper from a vest pocket and handed it to Kevin.
"This came an hour ago. I wanted you and Josh's other teachers to see it before you left today. I will make an announcement to the entire school tomorrow morning."
Kevin took the slip from the principal and held it where he could read it. It was a telegram dated 18 May, a telegram that contained a short, sad, unmistakably clear message:
"PRINCIPAL MORRISON, HIGH SCHOOL, WALLACE, IDAHO. JOSH PASSED THIS A.M. POLIO. WILL RETURN FRIDAY P.M. AND MAKE ARRANGEMENTS. MASON MILLER."
Kevin turned away. He couldn't bring himself to look at Morrison. He didn't want the administrator to see the moisture forming in his eyes. He instead gazed out the classroom windows and saw more than a dozen students talk, laugh, and play on the kind of spring day he had enjoyed a thousand times. He envied their blissful ignorance.
He returned the telegram, thanked Morrison for stopping by, and watched the boss walk out of the room like a man who had just lost a family member. In a sense, he had. Ed Morrison had lost his godson and the son of his best friend.
The time traveler walked back to his chair, sat down, and took a moment to reflect. He knew these things happened. He read about them every day. He knew they were part of living in the uneasy world of 1910. Still, this seemed different. It was one thing to read about a polio victim in Boise or Seattle or Duluth. It was another to read about one in your class.
Kevin pushed his chair back, opened the center drawer of his desk, and retrieved a piece of paper he had found on the floor on his first day of school. He had looked at the drawing nearly every day as a source of inspiration. Today the picture of the flying saucer reminded him of the random and often cruel nature of life.
He put the picture back in the drawer and settled in his chair as the tears that had welled in his eyes finally began to flow. He knew he had lost more than a promising student in the prime of his youth. He had lost one of the reasons he had taught in the first place. He had lost the boy who had looked past the sky to the possibilities beyond. Kevin Johnson had lost his dreamer.
CHAPTER 51: KEVIN
Saturday, May 28, 1910
Kevin laughed to himself as he considered the irony. He had been invited to dinner because of what he had given, but he had been able to attend because of what he had taken. Had he not liberated the hidden assets of Asa Johnson, he would not have been able to travel to 1910, live in Wallace for three months, and help Asa and his family with assorted chores and projects.
He knew he hadn't literally stolen from them. One could not steal from those who had been dead for decades. If Kevin had ripped off anyone, it had been his relatives in 2013 and perhaps the IRS and the Idaho State Tax Commission. Even so, he had to admit it was kind of funny to be sitting at Asa's dinner table while he figuratively sat on a significant share of his ill-gotten gains.
"Thank you for helping me put up the shelves," Asa said as he reached for a plate of roasted potatoes. "That was very kind of you."
"It's the least I could do for the reference you gave me. I don't think I would have been hired without it. If you ever need help with anything else, just let me know. I'll be there."
Kevin meant it too. He may have taken much of Asa's fortune, but he still cared for the man. Asa was his noble ancestor, after all, the patriarch of the American Johnson clan, even if for most of Kevin's life he had existed only in Grandpa Roger's reunion books.
Celia gave Lloyd some peas to throw from his high chair, cut Randolph's meat and potatoes, and sat down in the chair to Kevin's left. She put a napkin in her lap, helped herself to some of the feast she had fixed, and turned to her guest.
"You haven't told us much about your job, Mr. Johnson," she said. "Have you enjoyed your time at the high school?"
"I have. I love my students and love teaching them science, but I have to admit that I haven't been able to teach them much lately. The school hasn't been the same since Josh Miller died."
"I imagine it hasn't. When someone loses a child in this town, we all grieve. We knew Josh through our church. He was a special young man."
Kevin couldn't argue with that. Shortly after learning of the boy's death, he had learned that Josh had dazzled more than a few teachers through the years. He had turned in dozens of stories and essays about space travel and extraterrestrial life. Wallace had lost not only a promising student but also an imaginative and prolific writer of science fiction.
"Yes, he was," Kevin said. "He was one of my brightest students and by far the most creative. I still have a picture that he drew in class. I intend to frame it and give it to his parents."
"I think they would like that."
Kevin smiled sadly at Celia and then took a moment to consider the people in the room. He had thought about the Johnsons often since popping out of their rock shed on Valentine's Day. He had thought about what he could do to help them now and prepare at least three of them for a difficult transition that only he knew was coming.
Kevin glanced first at Asa, who sat in his usual chair at one end of the table. He knew there wasn't a thing he could do to save him. The man had deteriorated so much in the past few weeks that Kevin wondered whether he would even make it to July. When he looked at the head of the household, he saw a man with low energy and a pasty face, a man with a foot in the grave.
Then there was his wife. Celia had never remarried, according to reunion literature. She had never hitched her wagon to another man's star or even made the most of her dead husband's money, like Maude Duvalier and countless other wealthy widows.
Kevin found that astonishing. Celia was young, beautiful, and as cultured as any woman in town. She could have done anything after Asa's death, but she hadn't. She had lived modestly and quietly in Wallace until her death in 1942.
Kevin wondered whether she would do it again. Had he influenced her life just enough to alter its course? He didn't know. What he did know is that Celia had the means to live out her years in comfort. When Asa had died the first time around, he had left his wife and sons not only a magnificent house but also a small fortune in liquid assets – assets that had been put in known and accessible places like vaults and safe-deposit boxes.
When Kevin turned to Randolph, he felt just plain sad. He felt like Marty McFly in Back to the Future when the time traveler advised his trouble-bound Uncle Joey, sitting in his playpen, to "get used to these bars." Kevin had the feeling that nothing he had done as a time traveler would prevent this rowdy little boy from finding trouble later in life.
Then there was Lloyd, the good son. Kevin had decided long ago that the best thing he could do for the baby, his great-grandfather, was to simply get out of his way. Celia had apparently done a wonderful job raising her second child because he had turned out to be an incredible man. Kevin had no reason to believe Lloyd wouldn't turn o
ut to be incredible again.
Kevin took a bite of roast beef, poured thick gravy on his potatoes, and settled into his seat. He started to drift back to Celia when Asa restarted the conversation.
"Has Ed Morrison decided to keep you on?" he asked.
"He hasn't talked to me yet about next year," Kevin said. "I suspect that he will when we meet on June 8. That's when he'll review my performance."
"Well, I hope he decides to retain you. I hope you decide to stay. This town needs more educators like you. I've heard nothing but good things from students and parents."
"So have I," Celia added.
"I appreciate your support. I honestly don't know what he's going to do and, to tell you the truth, I don't know what I'll tell him even if he does ask me to come back."
Kevin didn't either. He knew that he couldn't, in good conscience, commit to a whole year. He didn't plan to stay twelve more weeks, much less twelve more months, but he also didn't plan to return to 2013 alone. If Sarah needed time to think over a run to the future, he would give her that time. Her situation was a problem he had yet to solve.
"Don't you like Wallace?" Celia asked.
"Oh, I love it. I love living here and teaching here. I've never had a better job. I just don't want to commit to anything before I've had a chance to consider all of my options."
"You're a prudent man, Mr. Johnson," Asa said. "I often wonder where I'd be had I not weighed all of my options at your age."
"I don't understand."
Asa put his knife and fork on his plate.
"I didn't come to this country a rich man. When I left England in ninety-four, I was twenty-five. I had my clothes, my wits, and skills I had learned in a trading house but not much else. When I arrived in New York, I worked on Wall Street and did well for a while. In time, I might have done very well. But I wanted more. So I considered the possibilities and came here. I found my fortune by taking another road. Sometimes it pays to look around."
"I agree. That's why I'm taking my time. I have many factors to consider."
Celia smiled.
"Would these factors include a lovely educator who lives down the street?"
Kevin blushed fifty shades of red.
"You know her?"
"I know about her," Celia said. "A neighbor told me that 'our handsome new science teacher is courting our beautiful new English teacher.' Wallace is a small town, Mr. Johnson."
Kevin laughed.
"I guess it is."
Kevin recalled the April 30 ride with Sadie and wondered whether the astute Mrs. Johnson had figured out that the woman on the horse and the woman down the street were not one and the same. He guessed that she had.
"Your neighbor is right. I am, in fact, seeing one of my colleagues. I expect she'll be an important consideration when I decide what to do."
"I'm glad to hear that love still ranks high as a motivator of men."
"In this case, it ranks very high," Kevin said.
Asa and Celia laughed
"I'm just teasing," Celia said with an ice-melting smile. "I'm sure you'll strike the right balance between your personal and professional interests. That's the way it should be."
"Thanks again for the vote of confidence," Kevin said.
The banter continued for another hour and was followed by dessert and a game of cards. Asa and Kevin talked about politics, the economy, and a drought that was well into its third month. They also discussed what each of them could do to improve the area's public schools.
By the time the conversation had run its course, Kevin had developed an even higher regard for Asa, his wife, and even the boys who had yet to become men. He no longer thought of the Johnsons of Garnet Street as his friends but rather as the family they were.
At nine Kevin decided to call it a night. He thanked Celia for the dinner, said goodbye to the boys, and walked with Asa to the door.
"I want you to know that you are always welcome here," Asa said. "Even if you decide to leave Wallace, you can count on us for a meal and a place to stay."
"Be careful what you say, Asa. I may take you up on that."
Both men laughed.
"Take care," Asa said.
"You too."
Kevin smiled as he thought of the evening and the offer. He would come back, and the next time he would bring Sarah. He couldn't imagine a more entertaining evening than the four adults exchanging views and stories around that dinner table.
He carried the thought to King Street but not beyond the day. Kevin never returned to Asa's house and the couples never dined. Kevin Johnson never saw Asa Johnson again.
CHAPTER 52: SARAH
Saturday, June 4, 1910
Sarah pulled the handbill from her purse and smiled. The flier advertised the event as a "famous show," but she knew better. She had seen the same kind of spectacle in Terre Haute, South Bend, and Indianapolis. The show was not a show. The show was a circus.
She put the flier back and placed her hand in the hand of the man to her right. They sat in the bleachers with three hundred others in the biggest temporary facility Wallace, Idaho, had ever seen. Four large tents, including the big top, had been raised the previous day in the city park.
"You look happy," Kevin said.
"I've never been happier."
Sarah meant it too. There was her eighth birthday, of course, when her father had actually bought her a pony, and the time, ten years later, she had won an essay contest and a trip to Chicago. She had also been pretty darn happy the day she got into Indiana State, but even that could not compare to this. Sitting next to the man she loved, anywhere, was heavenly.
The spectacle itself wasn't too shabby either. With clowns, acrobats, trained horses, and "two herds of performing elephants and droves of Assyrian and Siberian camels," the show that was a circus was the most impressive thing Sarah had seen all year.
Sarah watched a few workers move equipment during the intermission and then shifted her attention to the far side of the tent, where more than a hundred children she knew from school gathered in their usual groups. They differed in age, gender, personality, and ability, but all had at least one thing in common: they had entered the big top for free.
"It was nice of that anonymous man to donate all of those tickets," Sarah said playfully. "He knew exactly what this town needed right now."
"I'm sure he just wanted to reward the students for being so good this year. A lot of men would love to play Santa Claus at least once in their life."
"Would those men include a dashing science teacher?"
Kevin chuckled.
"How did you know?"
"Josie told me. She was in the school office when you met with Principal Morrison and overheard your offer to buy two hundred tickets. She thinks you're the best thing to hit this town since Cracker Jack."
Sarah squeezed his hand.
"So do I."
"It's nice to know I'm as popular as a snack."
Sarah laughed.
"You're more popular in my book, much more. You did a wonderful thing, Kevin. You reminded the children that the world is not only a place where we live, work, and die but also a place where we laugh, sing, and enjoy each other. I wish only that Josh could have seen this."
"I do too," Kevin said with a sigh. "I do too."
Sarah scanned their section of the bleachers for eavesdroppers. Seeing none, or at least no one who plausibly fit the description, she resumed the conversation in more hushed tones.
"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"
"It depends how personal. I'm not ready to show you any birthmarks."
Sarah smiled.
"It's not that personal, but it is personal."
"OK. Ask away then."
"Where did you get the money to pay for this?"
"Must you know everything about me, Miss Thompson?"
Yes. I want to know everything about you and then some.
"A few tidbits would be nice."
"If you insist."<
br />
"I insist."
Kevin smiled and looked at the inquisitive woman holding his hand.
"OK. If you must know, then I'll tell you. I'm not quite the church mouse I make myself out to be. I come from old money – money so old that it's started to collect cobwebs."
Sarah laughed.
"I figured as much. I don't mean to pry, Kevin. I don't. I'm just curious. Very few people of means come to places like Wallace to become teachers. Even fewer share their wealth as freely as you have."
Sarah looked at him thoughtfully.
"I know what you did for Sadie."
"You do?"
"I do. She told me. She didn't tell me everything, of course, but she told me enough. She said that you talked her out of working for Maggie Ryan, paid off her debt, and found her the job at Maude's. I'm sure those are just a few of the many reasons she adores you."
"Don't read too much into that, Sarah. I would have done the same for anyone in that situation. I had an opportunity to help someone in a predicament and I took it."
"You don't need to explain yourself. You turned a life around. That's more than most people can say in a lifetime. You're a truly incredible man, Kevin Johnson."
"You're being kind."
"I'm being truthful. One can be kind and truthful at the same time."
"I suppose they can," he said with a laugh.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close as the band began playing "Entry of the Gladiators" and a herd of pachyderms marched into the ring. A minute later, dozens of other performers followed suit, and the greatest show on earth, or at least the greatest show in Shoshone County, Idaho, picked up where it had left off.
Kevin and Sarah left the grounds at nine thirty, after spending two hours in the big top and another hour in the smaller tents. By the time they found some space and privacy on Sixth Street, the spring sky had begun to darken.
"Thank you for taking me," Sarah said as she clung tightly to Kevin's arm. "I've been to the circus before but always with my brothers. You're better company than my brothers."
The Fire (Northwest Passage Book 4) Page 23
