Anywhere You Are
Page 22
Of course, only to be sure his facts were correct before he asked Mairie to explain… even he knew that was merely an excuse. He had never seen women of such height and splendor as the ones with the extraordinary costumes.
He sat for over two hours, watching in silence. He found it very frustrating without sound to try and figure out what the people were saying. As if that wasn't difficult enough, when he changed stories he came to one that appeared to be a fast drawing come to life. He knew from focusing that the black duck was speaking to the rabbit. Strange. Very strange… stories of animals who spoke to each other and seemed to be in some sort of competition. Then there was the odd-looking bird racing away from a sad-looking coyote. He decided he liked the coyote better than the bird that never flew, and secretly wished the coyote would finally catch it. Instead, he fell over a cliff with a look of desperation and crashed to the ground.
Very sad indeed. He couldn't help but consider that could have been the ending to his own story, had he not trusted in something, anything, beyond himself. He had to have had hope.
"What are you watching?"
Startled, Jack shrugged. "I don't know. It's all very strange."
"Cartoons," Mairie whispered, and stretched as she turned to him.
She was smiling so sweetly that Jack's heart melted once again, watching her adjust her robe and sit up. She had the look of a woman well rested, with her hair covering her shoulders like a dark cape. She looked… content.
"Will you explain why the coyote never captures the strange bird?"
She giggled and shoved another pillow behind her head. "Because if the coyote captured the road runner, the story would be over."
"Why does he always have to get hurt? He gets hurt a hell of a lot, but he always comes back."
Laughing, she ran her fingers through her hair. "It's supposed to be funny, provide humor."
"I see." Though he didn't. "I noticed there are many shorter stories, about all sorts of things… especially food. I couldn't hear them, but the food looked most delicious, almost as though I could reach out and take it."
She picked up the telephone device she had used last night.
"Hungry? Let's order room service. What would you like? Eggs? Bacon? Ham?"
He looked around the room. "Here? They will bring it here? Up fourteen floors? Oh yes… the elevator." The pride he felt in remembering was quickly replaced by the gnawing in his belly.
"Yes. I just have to tell them what we want. Would you like to read a menu?"
Shaking his head, he said, "I have no need. Eggs and ham would be wonderful. And coffee… if possible."
"It's possible," she said, and touched several buttons before speaking into the phone.
He heard her order breakfast for two and then she replaced the handle and sat back. "Well, our first full day. What shall we do while we wait for Marc to send us our new identities? Shopping for clothes is a must. Would you like to see the city?"
"Yes. And I received an invitation last night I would like to discuss with you."
She narrowed her expression. "An invitation? From whom?"
He pointed to the television. "From there. They spoke to me and asked me to join them at a cabaret show. I don't know that you would enjoy it, Mairie."
She seemed to stare at him for a few seconds and then she laughed. "Oh, Jack… that was a commercial. They weren't talking to you, well they were, but they were talking to whomever was watching. It was like a group invitation. You can't take anything seriously that comes out of that box. It's for entertainment."
She threw the cover to the foot of the bed and swung her legs over the side of it. "We can go, if you want. Maybe tonight."
It was the first time he had seen her bare legs, and he had to force himself to answer. "I didn't think you would be comfortable going into… into a saloon."
She giggled and rose from the bed. "And what do you think we were in last night when you won the money? It was a saloon, a bar. This is just bigger and has a show to entertain. This whole town, Jack, is about entertaining… while you gamble away your money."
"I'm not going to gamble anymore. We won because it was Virginia's silver dollar."
"It was Harmon's before she got it," Mairie said, walking toward the convenience. "Turns out the man was useful after all, huh? But I'm glad to hear you aren't a gambler."
She closed the door and Jack was left staring at the television. He must remember that the voices were not really speaking to him alone. He felt naive, and wasn't pleased. He would study everything, until he could be of more help to Mairie. And then he would find out if he could go back. He wasn't sure any longer where he belonged. The past, or the future. Maybe Mairie was right… don't try and figure it all out, just live in the moment and deal with whatever happens.
Some minutes later, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and he rose from the bed to answer it. Tightening his belt around his waist, he stood and asked, "Who is it?"
"Room service."
There was a tiny hole in the door he hadn't noticed last night, and he peeked through it. Startled by the young man's face so close, Jack almost jumped back in shock. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and opened the door.
"Morning, sir," the uniformed waiter said, as he pushed a cart draped with a tablecloth, and holding covered dishes, coffee cups, a pitcher of juice, and a vase with a single flower.
"Ahh… morning," Jack mumbled, speaking in his first normal encounter with a man from the future. The aroma of coffee filled his senses and his stomach growled as the waiter arranged the table and uncovered the dishes.
"That will be twenty-four seventy-five, sir. You've declined a room charge, so everything will be on a cash basis." He stood, waiting for his money.
"Twenty-four dollars? For breakfast?" Mairie had said everything was expensive, but this… this was robbery!
She came out of the convenience just as he was about to argue the outrageous price.
"I'll get it," she said with a smile to the waiter, and walked past them to her purse.
She took out thirty dollars and handed it over. "Thank you," she murmured, looking at the table. "Everything seems fine."
"Thank you, madam," the waiter said, and headed for the door.
"Is he coming back with your change?" Jack asked, as the door closed behind the man. He was glad to see the back of that… that robber, who had happened to take a peek at Mairie's derriere when she'd bent over to pick up her purse. "He had better return with your money, Mairie, or I'll—"
"Calm down," she interrupted. Mairie pulled a chair from a nearby table and patted it. "Here. Sit down and have your breakfast." Sitting on the edge of the bed, she inhaled the aroma coming from her plate. "The change was his tip."
"You gave that man a tip, after he's getting twenty-four dollars for a meal that should cost fifty cents?"
Looking up at him, she grinned. "Jack, this isn't your time. Everything is more expensive, and in a hotel it's twice as expensive. He's not getting the money. The hotel is. He's paid a very small amount and his real wages are from the tips the guests give him. I know it seems like a lot of money, but it isn't, for this situation. Wait till you see how expensive clothes are." She waved her hand at him. "Come on, let's not talk about money right now. Let's eat and get ready to go out. We should be able to find more reasonable stores than the ones in the hotel. Want to go to a mall?"
Still trying to mentally answer her string of statements, he figured he'd reply when he was seated. He picked up the cloth napkin. Placing it on his knee, as he had been taught all those many years ago, he stared at his food, the fluffy yellow eggs, the glazed slices of ham, the browned potatoes, and he thought twenty-four dollars might be extravagant, but he was going to enjoy every morsel.
"What's a mall?" he asked, right before he tasted the eggs.
She was pouring them both coffee, and Jack had to admit he liked the domesticity.
"Shops. Probably more than you've ever seen in on
e place. Just wait…"
Three hours later, Mairie dragged him away from a window showing a display of leather pants and platform shoes. "Come along, Jack. You don't want that."
"I don't want it. I'm wondering how anyone could walk in those shoes."
She giggled. "I had them about twenty years ago. Men and women wore them, and now they're back in style." She knew they made a sight, walking through the mall. A handsome cowboy in filthy clothes, and her in leggings and a cropped top. Still, she wasn't above noticing that even in filthy clothes, Jack Delaney attracted attention. Mainly from females.
"Here," she said, spying the store she wanted. "We'll find something in this place."
They walked into the Gap.
An hour later they walked out, dressed in brand new jeans and light cotton sweaters over colored T-shirts. They carried packages of shirts and cotton slacks for them both. They even purchased lightweight jackets. Mairie had a wonderful time suggesting clothes for Jack, though she'd had to steer him away from the more western shirts. She reminded him they were going east and wanted to blend in there. Plus, to be honest, she was dying to see him in something modern. When he'd come out of the dressing room in jeans, his cowboy boots and a natural cream colored sweater, she'd felt that attraction heighten.
Teacher, she reminded herself.
Teacher.
Who wanted to be a teacher? They never seemed to have fun.
Shaking her head to dislodge the silly thoughts, Mairie said, "Okay, now we need to take care of something really important."
"Undergarments ?"
She laughed. "Yeah, that too. But first…" She grabbed his hand with great affection and led him forward.
Already her tastebuds were activating as she walked up to the counter and breathed, "Haagen-Dazs, Jack. When's the last time you had ice cream?"
"Not since I was on the East Coast. It was a rare luxury."
"Well, here you have a decision to make. You want an ice cream cone? Mmm… sugar cones! Or, would you like a sundae? Normally I wouldn't try to influence a person's choice of ice cream, but I can say that if you haven't had ice cream very often, forget the cone. You've already had that experience. Try the sundae. You won't forget your first sundae."
She looked to the vats of ice cream through the glass case and grinned in remembrance. "It's kinda glorious, and… and… well, I don't want to give you any more suggestions."
He smiled down to her. "Then I shall have a sundae."
She watched him begin to salivate as his eyes widened at the exotic abundance of ice cream. "I know I said I didn't want to give you any more suggestions, but I have to offer this one. Don't let your eyes be bigger than your stomach."
He turned and looked at her, as if shocked. "My parents used to say that to me all the time."
"Mine too," Mairie said, feeling that pulling sensation again.
"How strange to hear it from you."
"Some things have survived, Jack. Not everything will be different."
He temporarily lost his interest in ice cream as others came up to the counter and ordered their preferences. "Tell me what has survived. Beyond buildings… what has survived?"
It was a deep question to be asked in the middle of a mall, especially in front of Haagen-Dazs, and she shut off all thoughts except what to tell him. "I wish I could say that only the good survived, but that wouldn't be true. Generations have brought with them some of those same things you were dealing with in your time. Greed. Arrogance. That stuff we all wish would just go away, so everybody could be happy for a change. But there's a lot of good, too, Jack. Maybe you just have to look a little harder in this time, but you'll see it. You'll recognize it. I don't know that it could change."
He turned away from the counter and crossed his arms thoughtfully over his chest. "That's comforting to know. Yet I suppose it has been all around me. See that mother and child? See the attention being given? That's the same as in my time, maybe through all time. And that man shaking his friend's hand. That appears the same. Look at the flowers in that cart. They haven't changed at all. Still beautiful." Smiling at her, he added, "I hope you are right, Mairie Callahan. I wish that basically, despite all our differences, people are the same. Don't you think they want the same things? Happiness. Peace. The right to live a life with both."
"I think all people have always wanted that." She wondered where he was going with this conversation.
"As someone who saw a different side of humanity in the war, I will take some time to think about your statements. You see, Mairie, that is one of the reasons I am exploring your time, this future, with you. When I thought about all I had left behind, I could only mourn the absence of my brothers. I had given up hope for civilization, for myself, and now to have you tell me that—"
His words were cut off as shots rang out across the mall. Mairie was so stunned she could only stare at Jack in amazement as he moved into action so quickly it seemed like one movement. Mairie felt him grab her and take her to the hard marble. One moment she was standing upright, listening to him, and in the next she was lying on the floor with Jack Delaney over her.
"What… what's going on?"
In a low serious voice, Jack said, "Turn over and move on your belly to that table behind you. Do it now. Now!"
Was Harmon back? Was he after them again?
She did as she was told. The shift in authority was swift and natural. Whatever was happening, Jack had more expertise, was better able to handle it successfully. He crawled on his stomach to her and they huddled under a dining table.
"Get down," he shouted at the young Hispanic girl who was peeking over the ice cream counter. Her head disappeared from view.
"What's going on, Jack? Can you see anything? Those were shots, weren't they?"
"Yes," he muttered. "They sounded different, more muffled, but they were definitely gun shots. Wait… don't move a muscle. He's running right at us."
Mairie's heart was slamming against her rib cage and she had to turn her head slightly to see a young boy zigzagging his way through the food court as security guards chased him. The boy was holding something in his left hand and a gun in his right as he leaped over chairs or pushed them out of his way. He was about twenty feet from them when Mairie saw Jack move. He placed his hand on the leg of the chair in front of him and she could see the veins in his hand stand out with the pressure of his grasp.
"Jack…"
Before she could say more, Jack slid the chair into the path of the kid and he went down like a bowling pin. Before he could scramble to his feet and run, a security guard tackled him and was soon joined by another. Mairie saw the gun being kicked away and Jack stand. He reached out his hand and helped her. Upright, she pulled down her sweater and stared at the scene before her. A crowd was gathering and she pulled on Jack's sleeve.
"I can't believe this. How could this happen now? Come on. We have to get away from here. We can't be witnesses."
He picked up the packages and joined her as they began to walk away. Both were breathing hard from the experience and they each jumped when they heard the voice.
"Hey, mister. Thanks. I'll give you free ice cream. Whatever you want."
Grinning at the young girl behind the counter, Jack shook his head and muttered to Mairie, "Find me a sundae, Mairie Callahan. I'm about ready for a glorious experience."
"You got it," she answered, shaking her head as they mall-walked faster than the senior citizens. "Ahh, that was some of the not-so-good stuff we've still got around. Perfect time for an example, huh? Sheesh!"
"My glorious experience was postponed," he retorted, as he kept up her pace. "Not a perfect time. Maybe there isn't such a thing?"
She couldn't think of an answer, so she kept on walking while wondering if there was a Baskin-Robbins in the mall. She didn't care if they had to hire a cab. This man was going to have his sundae. He deserved it.
They sat at a table in a Baskin Robbins three miles away from the shooting. Jack was eyeing
the sundae before him and Mairie was licking her rum raisin cone.
"This… you are right, Mairie. This is glorious!"
"Wait till you taste it," she said, licking the side of her cone to stop a drip. "Though I personally think you overdid it with everything on it… but that's just my opinion. I mean, four different flavors over a brownie over a banana, with carmel and hot fudge and pineapple syrups and nuts and cherries and whipped cream and—" She gulped. "I don't know how you can eat it."
"Oh, I can eat it," he said, sticking his spoon into the confection and taking a huge bite.
Mairie stopped licking, waiting for him to swallow.
"Well? How is it? Glorious…?" There was an expression of bliss passing over his face.
He licked his lips in deep appreciation. "Divine is the closest I can come to it."
She grinned, glad that he was enjoying it so much. "Yeah… a peak experience. Just remember the eye-mouth-belly wisdom."
"I will," he said, digging into it with relish.
Right, Mairie thought, as she sat down opposite him. It would be interesting to see how far he gets or if he finishes the entire thing. She looked around the clean ice cream shop and shuddered. She always shook after the fact. Or maybe it was the ice cream. Nope, she'd been scared. "How old do you think he was? Twelve?"
"I would say so. So young. He shouldn't carry a gun without having the responsibility." Jack licked the corner of his lip. "His father ought never to have let him have it."
"He shouldn't have had a gun. Period. His father probably doesn't even know." She didn't know how to explain this one to him. He thought 1877 was violent. How did one explain a society where children carry guns and kill? It was beyond her.
"You were very brave back there," she said, licking the creamy overflow around her cone. "Quick thinking, too." She wanted to change the subject and said the first thing that came to her. It was true, too. Jack Delaney was quite a man.