Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III

by A. H. Rousseau

  “May as well,” replied Jebediah.

  “And besides, dinner conversation with me inevitably becomes crude if given the chance,” said Cassidy. “If we focus on work, I'll be less likely to insult anyone.”

  “That seems like a good idea,” replied Jebediah. “It may also help me work out some of my anger over the betrayal.” Jebediah sipped his water. “Because I am feeling anger.”

  “If this is you angry, I'd hate to see you sad. Do you just fall asleep?” asked Cassidy.

  “We all handle our anger in different ways. Not everyone simply commences destroying property.”

  “Yes, but... maybe punching something, yelling,” Cassidy said. “Lash out somehow. It's good for you to let it out. If you keep pain in, it breaks you down until you just explode, and when that happens, it may be at someone or something that doesn't deserve it.”

  “Well... No. Never mind. I don't want to get into that. Let's keep to the matter at hand.”

  “Yes. Good idea.” Cassidy said before taking a drink of water from her glass. “So... If we assume that he was telling the truth in his arrogant, roundabout way, and he was indeed using something secret and amazing, then let's make some assumptions about it,” said Cassidy. “We know that it's some form of communication.”

  “We also know that it is small,” added Jebediah. “I would have seen anything large.”

  “Maybe a portable telephone or telegraph,” said Gideon.

  “He would still have to hook it up to the wires somehow, and I would have noticed that,” said Jebediah, leaning his chin on his hands.

  “Maybe some soft of sonic device. High-pitched morse code that humans can't hear,” said Cassidy.

  “Naval signals! Maybe it's based on light,” said Gideon. “I don't know of any electric lights that small, but maybe that's the technology he was speaking of.”

  “I've seen some huge airships, maybe they have some very small ones — the size of a bird... how would they get them to home, though?” asked Cassidy as she trailed off in thought. “Son of a bitch... I mentioned to Jeb back in the car, this is exactly the situation that I would visit George and Anna.”

  “Maybe it was a bird.”

  “Where is he going to keep a bird? Up his butt?” asked Cassidy snidely.

  “You try coming up with another idea,” argued Gideon. “I feel as though we've gone through everything he could have done. It's not like we have many options.

  “Jeb, honestly. Stop us if any of this sounds good,” said Cassidy to Jebediah, who was still leaning on his hands, his elbows on the table.

  Jebediah didn't answer. He just stared off into the distance. “I'm sorry to do this, but I think it necessary. We're going to have to change trains and make a stop in Los Angeles.”

  “What? Why?” asked Cassidy, surprised.

  Jebediah let out a quiet sigh. “Everything I'm about to tell you should be considered secret. I don't know if I stressed that before. You are to tell no one about any of this.”

  “Jeb, the people I would tell don't care,” said Cassidy.

  “Regardless, just bear that in mind.” Jebediah leaned in and lowered his tone. “Los Angeles is our current operative base for the west coast. We don't have much there — as I said, we like to travel light — but there are resources upon which I would like to draw. It wouldn't be too much of an issue. We could simply decouple your car from the train and park it for a day. A day is all I would need.”

  “A day is a day,” replied Cassidy, obviously disapproving.

  “I'm well aware of that, but it would be a day well spent.” Cassidy pursed her lips slightly as she bored into Jebediah with her eyes. “I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it necessary. Trust me,” said Jebediah.

  “Alright.” Cassidy tapped the table slightly as she thought. “Alright. I don't see any specific reason to say no.”

  “Thank you,” replied Jebediah.

  “But why Los Angeles? It's an odd choice. Why not Sacramento or San Francisco?”

  “We needed a city that was small but not so small as to have insufficient infrastructure. Los Angeles is of acceptable size and growing quickly. It allows us to work while also having little exposure.”

  “You're worried about exposure in your own country? That doesn't seem to make much sense to me.”

  “All that I can really say is that it very much does. I hope that you will at least give me that.”

  “Don't have much choice at this juncture, now do I?”

  “Assuming you do have the choice, I hope that you would choose in my favor,” replied Jebediah.

  Cassidy leaned back in her chair. “Ok. So. We go to Los Angeles. What do we do there?”

  “We would do very little. I would go, then return some hours later.”

  “That I do have a problem with. I'm involved. And so is Gideon.”

  “Yes, but Mr. Atwater is accustomed to understanding that sometimes if he doesn't need to know something, then he doesn't need to know.”

  Cassidy became sterner in her voice. “I'm sure that he's an excellent soldier and all that, but I am not accustomed to that. I prefer to know and in this case demand to know.”

  “Cassidy, please. I am asking you, regardless of what distrust you may feel for me, to listen to me on this. I can't take you to where I need to go. And also, it has little bearing on what you want out of this. You want your friends back. The information I get will undoubtedly help in that quest. Any information that you got would not help. All it would do is satisfy your curiosity.”

  Cassidy grunted her displeasure.

  “I need to keep this for just myself. I cannot negotiate on this. I will not negotiate on this. I ask for your cooperation so that we can continue on this mission peacefully.”

  After a moment of annoyed contemplation, she waved her hand, “fine.”

  “Thank you. And I do mean that. I promised that you would be included, but this detour was... a spontaneous decision. I didn't even think we would need to do this. So, again, thank you for understanding.”

  Cassidy straightened herself in her chair. “Well... you can save your thanks for a time when I will be more receptive. For now, our drinks are heading this way.” The waiter walked up and began placing drinks on the table.

  ---

  Cassidy walked into her car holding her stomach, followed by Jebediah and then Gideon. As she walked past the entrance to the washroom, she reached over to the right and turned a large valve which brightened all of the gas lamps along the walls, mixing a golden light with the evenfall from outside.

  “That was a surprisingly good meal. It's rare to get such good food on a train,” she said.

  “Some rail lines out east have restaurants set at points along the track,” said Gideon as he sat down in a chair. “The train physically stops so people can dine in luxury. Some of the best food of my life. I had these things called mountain oysters, or something thereabouts.”

  Cassidy stared at him. “You ate mountain oysters?”

  Gideon looked back, confused at Cassidy's surprise. “Yes?”

  “Hooo... you are a braver man than I.”

  “What? Why?” Cassidy didn't answer. “What?! What are they?”

  Cassidy smiled, trying to hold back a laugh. “Umm... well... they're a bull's nuts... basically. You, uh, you ate a cow's testicles.”

  Gideon's face distorted into one of disgust, sadness, shock, and a faint smile indicating that he would have found this funny if he hadn't found it so disgusting. He pressed his hand over his eyes and breathed heavily. “Oh god... oh... oh god... No wonder those jerks wouldn't tell me what they were... Oh god... those bastards.”

  “Yep. That is one of those foods that originated in desperation,” said Cassidy.

  Gideon took his hand away from his face and looked up, puffing his cheeks out as he exhaled, trying to keep himself composed. “My god. It was months ago and I still feel the need to vomit.”

  “Now calm down,” said Cassidy, sitting in her
chair. “A lot of people consider those a delicacy, you know. When you think about it, there aren't very many of them, ahem, hanging around.”

  “Shut up!” Gideon said, looking at Cassidy. “Oof... I'm gonna'... I'm gonna' need a minute.”

  “Yeah, I BELCH!!” Cassidy paused, wide-eyed with shock at the force of the gas that just escaped from her mouth. “Wow. That was intense.”

  Jebediah looked shocked and a little bit disgusted. “My god. Do you have any manners?”

  “Not usually,” Cassidy said, reaching over to her table and picking up a copy of La Citoyenne.

  “What are you reading?” asked Gideon, pacing. “Take my mind off this, please.”

  “A women's interest newspaper out of France.”

  “Is it about clothing?”

  Cassidy stared at Gideon with a flat, tired expression. “Yes. It's about clothing.”

  “I lament the state of men's interest publications in the country,” said Gideon as he walked back and forth.

  “Uh, wouldn't that be every publication?” replied Cassidy.

  “Well... Yes, in a sense. But the prescriptions for masculine concepts are so rigid. To step outside the norm of male fashion, for example, one must either live in Paris or manufacture his own clothing. If he opts for tea over brandy and cigars, women look at him as though he is strange.”

  “Why not simply move?” asked Jebediah, reaching down to the floor from his chair to pick up his book.

  Gideon stared at Jebediah for a moment, expecting him to realize that his statement made no sense. After a moment, he gave up. “I don't want to move,” Gideon finally said. “I don't know. I suppose that society continues its progression. I'm sure that I will like it soon enough.”

  “Now that,” Cassidy stated definitively, “... is the completely wrong mindset to take!”

  “What?” asked Gideon.

  “Grab society! Shake it! Make it do what you want!” she said loudly, shaking an invisible body in the air.

  Gideon looked away. “While that seems to be working well enough for you, I don't think that I have the, the... the gumption to do it the same.”

  “Of course you do!” she said, gesturing ever more emphatically. “Everyone does. All it takes is industry and a desire to change things. Nothing more.”

  “Money would help, I would imagine,” said Jebediah.

  “Yes, yes. Money does help. Money may be necessary to do certain things, but there are many other things that can be done with little money. By saying that you need money is to abdicate your ability and responsibility to fight for a better world. Don't be a coward!” Jebediah looked at Cassidy, impressed. Cassidy looked to Gideon, who had stopped pacing and was now standing by the window, looking out. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I don't mean to press you. I don't... what I mean to say is that it is frustrating, coming from my perspective, to hear people say they can't change things. That's all we've got. If you don't change things, just kill yourself, because what the hell is the point?” Gideon just stared out the window. “Mind you, I don't mean that you should kill yourself. I think that killing yourself would be bad. You're nice. You're very nice... That's not the only reason you shouldn't kill yourself, though. I think that... I think death is generally bad. You definitely have a point!”

  Jebediah interrupted her. “I think that you have dug yourself as far out of the hole you previously created as you are capable of. Just... stop.”

  Cassidy nodded. “Good... good idea.” She turned back to Gideon. “You want me to go get you a drink? Oh right, you don't drink. You want some... milk? I bet I could find you some milk.”

  Gideon's pensive gaze was broken by a smile and a chortle. “No,” he said, turning to her. “Thank you, though. If I want milk, I know exactly who to turn to.”

  “Oh yeah. Absolutely. I am your milk-getting friend. I'll find you a wet nurse if need be.”

  “Ugh!” Gideon ejaculated with an exaggerated look of disgust. “No, I don't think that will be necessary.”

  “You're disgusted by that? You ate the nuts off a bull and you're disgusted by that?”

  “Gah! Why the hell did you remind me?” said Gideon, his smile still visible.

  “I'm going to, uh, read my paper now,” Cassidy said, holding up her newspaper.

  “And I think that I will enjoy the scenery,” said Gideon, who smiled at Cassidy. They exchanged nods, and as she turned to her paper, he turned to looking out the window and into the painted horizon.

  ---

  George's eyes opened slowly, heavy with sleep. He yawned, stretched a bit and looked around. He and Anna were still in the airship, but Roger and the mechanical man had disappeared. George looked up toward the front of the craft and saw the faint glow of controls and safety lighting in the cockpit. He got up and walked toward the pilot.

  As he got there, he found two other men sitting in small compartments on either side of the cockpit entrance.

  “Hi,” he said. “Where is everyone?”

  “Return to your seat,” said the pilot.

  “I don't have a seat” George replied.

  “What?”

  “I don't have a seat. I was never given one. We're just back there.”

  “Well return to back there or we will return you by force.”

  “Alright, alright... fucker.” George walked back to Anna. He sat down on the floor again. Anna looked up, awake.

  “I tried talking to them, too,” she said.

  “We've been in this thing for over a day. Assuming that it's doing fifty miles per hour, we've gone over one thousand miles. Where the hell are we going?”

  Anna shrugged. “We'll find out.”

  They looked up to see one of the two men walking toward them. He was young, maybe younger than George and Anna, but looked more aged from his unkempt hair, and dirt covered face. He sat down on one of the two seats that had been vacated by Roger and the mechanical man. “So, you two are scientists or something?”

  “Yes. Something like that,” said George.

  “So you've got an education and all?”

  “Actually, no. Neither of us went to college.”

  “How do you do your science, then?”

  “Um,” George and Anna looked at each other. “With experiments, mainly.”

  “You use chemicals and whatnot?”

  George chuckled. “Yeah, sometimes. Although not all experiments require chemicals.”

  “Yeah? What do they inquire?”

  “What?” George said, confused. “Oh, yeah. Well, many things. Gears, engines, steam. Anna works with very small amounts of water.”

  “It's not usually water,” Anna added.

  “Yes, I know that,” George replied.

  “You should be accurate in your description.”

  “I also don't want to confuse him. Yes, I could have said you use low-viscosity hydraulic oils, but his head would have popped.”

  “Still, if he asks a question, you should answer it truthfully.”

  “This is why you could never be a teacher,” George said, annoyed.

  “And this is why no one reads your papers. I don't usually use water,” Anna said again, turning to the young man.

  “Do you know anyone who went to college?” asked the young man.

  “Well, yes, many people,” replied George.

  The young man extended his hand. “Name's Abraham. Like the president.”

  George extended his hand and shook it. “My name is George. Also like the president. And this is Anna.”

  Anna extended her hand as well and gave Abraham a firm but light shake. “You're very pretty , miss Anna,” said Abraham. Anna withdrew her hand quickly and looked away at this prompt. George put his hand on her knee and looked back at Abraham. Abraham did not appear to grasp the significance of this display.

  “I always wanted to go to college. I figured that one day, I'd go to New York City. All the smart people live there. I'd work to pay for the schooling and then learn me things li
ke mathematics.”

  “Uh, I don't think it works that way,” said George.

  “Why?”

  “Well, first, you have to apply and be accepted to a college.”

  “Oh... How do I do that?”

  “Usually you go from your preparatory school to college... but since you don't have that... um... I'm not sure. I believe that you can take tests to get in, but that is assuming that you can afford it.”

  “Tests? On what?” asked Abraham, concerned.

  “Everything. They're testing to make sure that you are ready for college.”

  Abraham stared off. “How much does it cost?”

  “A great deal,” George replied. “Many hundreds of dollars. Perhaps thousands.”

  Abraham stared at George in shock. “Thousands?”

  George nodded. “Yes. There are many that are cheaper than that, though, but it would most certainly be hundreds of dollars.”

  “How the hell does anyone ever earn that much?” Abraham said loudly.

  “I... I don't know,” replied George. “You can pay it over time. You go to school for years and pay it over years.”

  “That's still mighty costly. I don't think I've ever seen that much money in my life,” Abraham said.

  “Yes,” George said, looking away. “Maybe when you're done with all this, they would give you some extra money.”

  Abraham leaned back in the seat. “If I could pay, do you think there's any chance I could make it?”

  “I won't say that it's impossible,” said George. “It would be difficult, though. There's a lot to learn. It's... it's a lot of brain work.”

  Abraham sighed. “You think that God would forgive me for not making it?”

  Abraham looked at George with the face of a man whose dreams had just been crushed. “Yes. I think he would,” George replied.

  The pilot yelled back from the cockpit. “Abe! What are you doing back there? Get back to your seat!”

  “Ok!” Abraham yelled back. He got up and didn't look George in the face. “Thank you for the help.”

  “You're welcome,” said George.

  ---

  George was jostled awake. The airship was shaking and vibrating. Roger and the mechanical man were back in their seats.