Storm Unleashed

by Michael R. Stern

“Good. Can you see the news?”

  “I've been watching. But my plane is boarding now.”

  “Are you coming here?”

  “No.”

  “I'll keep you informed.” He wrapped his phone in his lunch trash and dropped it as he passed the waste can.

  * * *

  AFTER SCHOOL the next day, Fritz considered the sky. When lightning flashed, Fritz pulled down a book about the Declaration of Independence and examined the pictures. Intrigued by John Trumbull's painting of the draft's presentation and many of those who would later sign, he placed a paperclip. In the hallway, he touched the doorknob, but no buzz. Because it's not a photo or floorplan or map. He tried a book about Thomas Jefferson, placed a clip on a sketch of Monticello, and returned to the hall. Lightning flashed, but again, no shock. He clipped together both the Trumbull painting and a photo of Independence Hall. After the next flash of lightning, he tried again and stepped into the Assembly Room of the Pennsylvania State House. Men in powdered wigs and heavy jackets milled around.

  “Pardon me, sir. May I ask why you are here?” Fritz turned to face the man who would become the country's first postmaster.

  “I'm here to see you, Dr. Franklin. Your work has inspired me, and I would like to show you something. My name is Fritz Russell. I am a teacher.”

  “At the moment, Mr. Russell, I'm afraid we are a bit busy. Perhaps you might join me at my rooms later?”

  “That will not be possible, sir. But if you will indulge me, I have a most interesting discovery. This will only take a moment, sir. Would you follow me?”

  Franklin glanced at the glowing rectangle, reached out, and touched it with an index finger. He pulled back from the soft buzz, but curiosity won, and he joined Fritz.

  A startled look on his guest's face, looking up and down the hallway lined with lockers, Fritz wondered if he might have some magical power that convinced so many historical figures to believe him with so little fuss.

  “Where am I, sir?”

  “Come in here.” Fritz welcomed him by opening his classroom door and walked to his desk. “Dr. Franklin, you are in a school classroom in New Jersey. But you have just traveled to the twenty-first century. It was your experiment with electricity that made this possible.”

  Franklin was inching toward the door but looked around the room. “You are quite a collector, Mr. Russell. So many books.”

  “We don't have much time right now, but let me show you.” Taking Franklin's elbow, he pulled the reluctant scientist to his desk. Opening a book titled, 'The Declaration', he showed Franklin the title page and the date. “This was printed in 2010.” Fritz reached into his briefcase and removed the day's newspaper. “This is today's edition.”

  A short beep from the school driveway lifted Franklin's head. Puzzled, he pointed, no words available.

  “It's called an automobile. When first invented, people called it a horseless carriage.” Franklin removed his glasses but kept staring as more cars drove past.

  “Have I fallen asleep?”

  “Doctor, please look here.” Fritz motioned to the painting clipped to Independence Hall. When Franklin reached for the illustration, Fritz grabbed his hand. “That's how we connect, how I will get you back home.”

  “This is most strange, Mr. Russell,” leaning on the desk. Looking at his hands, he asked, “What is this material?” Franklin tapped the desktop.

  “It's steel, with some kind of top for the desk surface.”

  “I am familiar with steel. But not with such a use. A very durable product.”

  Fritz took a textbook from his shelf. Flipping to the section on the War for Independence, he showed Franklin pictures of Washington, Jefferson, and himself. “Dr. Franklin, you invited me to visit you. If the invitation still stands, at a future date, I may be able to reconnect us, and perhaps we will have more time to speak.”

  “Mr. Russell, a future conversation would be in order. I would offer a caution, however. Meddling with the past can change the future. But I do have a question now.”

  “Of course.”

  “If this is real, then our efforts toward independence are successful?” A broad grin spread on Fritz's face.

  Chapter 45

  FRITZ DIDN'T NOTICE the rain tapping on the windshield or the rhythm of the wipers as he drove home. Linda, Mary, and Mel were at the kitchen table when he walked in.

  “Hi honey, I'm home. I have a story to tell you.” Whatever the conversation had been, they dropped into silence. “Hi Mary, Mel.” He glanced at the table, but as he leaned to kiss Linda, she pulled away. He took a step back and asked if anyone wanted a drink.

  “So what's your story?” asked Linda.

  He poured his soda, and said, “It's not important. Sorry to interrupt.”

  “LINDA, I don't know what's eating you, but the silent treatment is making me nuts.”

  “So what's your story?”

  “Do you care?”

  “Not really.”

  “Is this about your father?” Fritz was afraid to push. He knew a line had been drawn, somewhere, and that once crossed meant no return.

  “No, Fritz, it's about you. The fact that you would even ask that tells me how clueless you've become.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Not tonight. Are you coming to graduation? I have to be there early.”

  “Of course I'll be there. Why wouldn't I be?”

  “I don't know. My parents are going on their own. Maybe I'll see you after. We're going to lunch, and then they're leaving.”

  His frustration had raised his voice. He could feel his shoulders knot. “Good. Tell them it was good to see them.” She scowled. “I'll drive you over.”

  “I'm going with Mel. She'll be sitting with me, president's orders.” She went to bed.

  Again, Linda left with few words. He had never felt so alone.

  LINDA'S GRADUATION was hard on him. He found an open seat at the rear of the ceremony, but also distant from his wife, physically and emotionally. The high spirit of the graduates and their guests bounced off and floated by him. He shared none of their joy and excitement. When the exercises ended, he worked his way through the milling crowd, trying to reach her first and avoid her parents, but when he found them, her father's arm was draped around her shoulder.

  “Congratulations, Lin. Well done.” When he stepped to kiss her, she offered a cheek as her father pulled her close. “Have a safe trip, Tim, Emily.” His father-in-law ignored Fritz when he offered his hand.

  Having parked far away made his escape easier. A long walk and a quick drive up I-95 gave him time to distance himself from the emotions of the morning. He turned into the parking lot at school just in time to run to the cafeteria and buy a sandwich. He was grateful his classes all revolved around reviewing for finals. At the end of seventh period, Eric Silver told him that they were ready for a full dress rehearsal. Susan Leslie stopped at the end of eighth period and asked if something was wrong.

  “Mr. R, you look terrible. You should get some sleep or something. You just reviewed the same stuff as you did yesterday. Did you know?”

  “I guess I am tired, Susan. You guys should have said something.”

  “I just thought you were emphasizing it, like it would be important for the exam. See you tomorrow, Mr. R.”

  He sat in the middle of the first row for the rehearsal. The background screen projected scenes from each decade to broaden the context. For the 1920s, the kids did the Charleston.

  Standing with Jean after rehearsal, Eric said, “We'll do the second half tomorrow, Mr. R. Pretty good, don't you think?”

  “You've done a great job.”

  “I haven't told you. Yesterday, I got a letter from the president.” He beamed. “I got a presidential scholarship. If I keep a B average in college, it's for $15,000 a year.” Eric leaned and whispered, “Thanks, Mr. R.”

  “Eric, I didn't do anything. You did it. But you should tell Mr. McAllister.”

  “I will. Anywa
y, see you tomorrow.”

  HE WAS GREETED by an empty table when he walked into the house. The TV was on. Mary was watching the news, and TJ was napping. “Hi Mary. Anything important?”

  “Hi Fritz. Not really. How was graduation?”

  “Like they always are. Where's Linda?”

  “She said she was taking her folks to lunch with a couple of professors.”

  “Right.” Fritz felt the room press in. “I'll be out back.” He grabbed his copy of Franklin's Autobiography and went to the yard. Not an easy read, he thought, and flipped through, reading random pages. He was distracted by birds pecking for their dinners. Tomatoes were forming, and the peppers had flowers. Beans had begun to sprout. Looking at the book cover, he envisioned Ben Franklin standing in his classroom. Clouds blocked the sun, and the temperature dropped, so he went in. Linda sat at the kitchen table.

  “I didn't know you were home.”

  “I know. No problem.”

  “Who'd you have lunch with?”

  “One of my professors wanted to meet my father. And I asked my advisor.”

  “The one who didn't like your business plan?”

  “Not him. My advisor liked the idea.” She turned back to her laptop.

  “Do you want to go out for dinner to celebrate?”

  “I'm going out with some of my classmates later.”

  “The play is coming together really well,” he said.

  “I'm glad. Ash should be happy. Too bad he won't see it.” Fritz started to respond, but walked out of the kitchen.

  THE SCHOOL YEAR ended in a blur. The students put on the play with minor glitches unknown to the audience. Linda skipped all the shows.

  “I'm glad that's over,” Fritz said when he arrived home after the Sunday matinee. “I think the kids are, too.”

  Linda said, “That's nice.”

  “Would you like to go out for dinner? We haven't been out in a while.”

  “Not really. But you can if you want.”

  “I meant us, together.”

  “I know what you meant. I don't want to go.”

  “Lin, I was thinking about calling Tony and going to see Ash. What do you think? Wanna come?”

  She erupted. “You just don't get it, do you? My father was right. Fritz, the hero. Go see your friend, use the portal. Is that all you think of now? What about me? How many times do I have to remind you that it terrifies me? You can't do anything for Ashley now. You could have prevented it. And you didn't.”

  “I didn't shoot him. And we were saving the president.”

  “And now you've jeopardized your family. People know about the portal. I talked with Daddy about how dangerous it is. Now the world knows. How long do you think it will be before they know exactly where to go? And come after us again.”

  “Linda, we, you and me, have spent hours, months, trying to end this. The portal has worked for us, too. I can't make it go away. Neither of us knew how important it would be.”

  “So important you choose the portal, every time, over your family?”

  “But you know what's been at stake.”

  “And I also know that you've used it for fun, and I also know the president takes advantage of us, and I also know that you've never said no to him.”

  “But you agreed. And what we do for the world is also for us.”

  “But now a ruthless, crazy killer who is obviously very smart is probably already looking for the portal.”

  “You don't know that. We don't even know who he is.”

  “But he probably knows who we are. Will you use the portal to save us?”

  “Linda, you sound like your father. What are you going on about? I do all I can to protect us. You know that. I'm not a hero, but I'm also not an idiot.”

  “You think my father is an idiot. He's right, Fritz. Why does the president need you? Because it's easier.”

  “It's easy for your father to criticize. He does it so well. And so often. He's managed to turn you. Your brother won't even talk to him.”

  “Fritz, my father merely pointed out what I've been ignoring. You choose the portal. Okay, I understand. We all have priorities. Now, I have to choose.” Before he could answer, she left the table and went upstairs.

  * * *

  His moment of quiet was interrupted by the Israeli Prime Minister's call. He asked how Jane was.

  “Hold a second.” The president could hear the rustling in the background.

  “Hi, Mr. President.” Her voice was soft and raspy.

  “Good to hear your voice, Jane. But we can talk more later. You need to recover. But I need to ask you if you're willing to keep working. We need to end the Caballeros.”

  “How's Ashley?”

  “He didn't make it. I'm so sorry, Jane.”

  Chapter 46

  THE HIGH SCHOOL'S graduation was somber for Fritz. He felt apart from the crowd. George had awarded him a special award in addition to Teacher of the Year. But none of that mattered. He was alone. Ashley wasn't sitting next to him. Linda and TJ had gone to Ohio, and he didn't know when they'd be back. Mary had moved to a room at the airport, and now shared Fritz's protection with a revolving group of agents. Jim had told him he was leaving at the end of June to begin his agent-training program.

  Fritz met Ashley at the airport. Charles Dougherty had personally escorted him to the gate. When Ashley appeared, Fritz gasped. Bearded and unkempt, fifteen hours traveling, Ashley sat in a wheelchair, a security guard pushing him. Fritz's only greeting was a blank stare. In Ashley's lap sat a small bag with some toiletries and his medications.

  “Welcome back, buddy,” said Fritz.

  “Yeah.”

  “How was the flight?”

  “Long.”

  They headed for a quick exit. The president and Dougherty had arranged to bypass customs, and Ashley had no luggage. But his baggage weighed far more than a suitcase.

  At the car, Fritz offered his hand. Ashley said, “I can walk.” Fritz's hand slipped to his side. When Ashley had his seatbelt fastened, Fritz thanked the guard and Mr. Dougherty and climbed in. The morning sun had just poked above the horizon.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Fine.”

  Leaving the airport, Fritz wondered how to help his friend. Even light conversation had little response. He told Ashley the play was a hit, and they had made a video for him. “I have cards for you from all of them, Ash.”

  “Good.”

  Fritz told him that Eric was the valedictorian, and he got a scholarship to MIT.

  “Yeah. No surprise there.”

  “No one's home, Ash. Linda's with her parents. Do you want to stay at my place?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to stay with you?”

  “No.”

  “You're not making this easy. How can I help?”

  “Turn back time.”

  Fritz pulled to the curb in front of Ashley's house. The red convertible sitting in the driveway should have been a welcome sight. Ashley unhooked the seat belt and opened the door.

  “Hang on. I'll help you.”

  “I'm fine.” He stepped out and catching his foot, hit the recently mown grass strip, barely missing the sidewalk. Fritz ran to him as he tried to reach his knees.

  “Ash, go slow. Let me help you.” Ashley batted away Fritz's hand.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I'll leave when you get inside,” Fritz barked back. “You shouldn't be alone at all. I'm going shopping for you when I get your sorry ass in the door. So stop fighting me.”

  Ashley took a deep breath and pushed up to one knee with a long, slow moan. Fritz lifted him under one arm. They gingerly crept up to the house.

  “Fritz, I can do this. I'm not a cripple, and I'm not dead.” As if on cue, the word hammered them both. Tears filled and overflowed. Tracks on his cheeks, Ashley looked away, the keys dangling from his fingers.

  Fri
tz opened the door and hoisted Ashley across the threshold. Untouched for almost a month, the coffee table still held piles of folders and a purse. Ashley's usual vibrant energy was gone. His slumped shoulders told more about his ordeal than his healing wounds. Fritz parked him in his favorite recliner and went to the refrigerator for drinks.

  With two sodas in hand, Fritz said that he would go shopping later, but that now they needed to talk. “I have to talk to you, too.”

  “There's nothing to talk about. She's dead. The doctors wouldn't even let me see her. I could have saved her, I know it.”

  “That's a lot of guilt to carry.”

  Ashley gave him a menacing look Fritz had never seen. “She needed me. If she just knew I was with her, she'd be okay. Damn the doctors. All they did was make excuses. And then she was gone. They always leave.”

  “Ash.”

  “Get out of here. I want to be alone.”

  * * *

  WHEN HE STOPPED outside the store, he took out his phone and looked at his speed dial list. He wanted to talk to Linda, shook his head, and called the White House.

  “Mr. President, do you have a minute?”

  “Not now, Fritz. Can I call you back?”

  “Yeah, sure. I guess.” The despondent voice alerted the president.

  “I'm in a meeting, but I'll call you as soon as it's done. Ashley's home, isn't he?”

  “Yeah.” He felt abandoned. How could so much go so wrong so fast? Let's get this done. Just get enough for a couple of days. Next week, we'll go together. A few quick items, through the check-out, and back to the car, he reached for the door handle when his phone buzzed.

  “Thanks for calling back.”

  “You have your hands full, Fritz. I'm really sorry. Mary told me about Linda, and Ashley is beyond your scope. He may not like it, but I'm sending Mel and Dr. Dutton. She'll be in Riverboro this afternoon. I'll give her your phone number, and she'll call you so you can meet her. She said it's probably best for you to be with him when she arrives. And you should talk to her, too.”

  “I'm fine, Mr. President. Linda just needs to cool down.”