"I believe that you believe."
"That's not the same thing."
"No. It's not," Kurt said.
"What can I do to make you believe me?"
Kurt smiled kindly.
"You could start by offering proof."
Amanda sighed.
"I don't have proof. That's the thing. I left everything I had from 2016 in 2016. That was one of the conditions of coming here. I had to leave my belongings behind. We all did."
Amanda lamented that decision. She had left her phone, her Illinois driver's license, and her laptop at Professor Bell's house. She wished now that she had brought them all.
Kurt took Amanda's hands and kissed her forehead. He studied her somber face for a minute, sighed, and smiled.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
"You sent me a postcard," Amanda said. She laughed through tears. "I'm an easy date."
Kurt fixed his gaze.
"No. You're a worthy date. You're a kind, intelligent, beautiful woman that I'm going to miss and never forget. That makes you much more than an 'easy date.'"
Amanda looked up at Kurt.
"What can I do to make you believe me?"
Kurt sighed and frowned.
"I doubt you can do anything," Kurt said. "Put yourself in my place, Amanda. Would you believe me if I told you I was from Mars?"
"I might. I know for a fact Dot is."
Kurt laughed.
"I guess I should have used another example."
"Yeah."
Kurt kissed Amanda again, this time softly on the lips, and wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. He took a deep breath, tightened his hold on her hands, and looked at her closely.
"There is one thing you can do," Kurt said.
"What?"
"It should be obvious."
"Tell me," Amanda said.
"If you really are a time traveler, you can tell me about things to come."
Amanda's eyes lit up.
"I can!"
"Then enlighten me," Kurt said. "Tell me something only a time traveler would know."
Amanda smiled.
"I already have."
"What do you mean?"
"I told you that Franco had captured Madrid before Franco had captured Madrid."
Amanda watched with interest and satisfaction as Kurt released her hands, widened his eyes, and stepped back. She had his attention.
"So you knew all along?" Kurt asked.
Amanda nodded.
"I knew all along. I knew when the war would end months ago."
"What else do you know?"
"What else do I know about Spain?"
"No," Kurt said. "What else do you know about the future?"
"How much time do you have?" Amanda asked.
"I have all night."
Amanda raised a brow.
"You have all night?"
Kurt blushed.
"I have five minutes."
"I thought so," Amanda said.
"Can we move on?"
Amanda laughed.
"We can move on."
"Thank you," Kurt said.
"So you want to know more?" Amanda asked. "Well, I'll tell you more. I know that Gone with the Wind will win Best Picture. I know the Cubs will return to the World Series in six years and then go into hiding. I know that men will walk on the moon in 1969 and that televisions, those boxes you saw at the fair, will someday be as large as buildings."
Kurt smiled.
"I'd love to see them."
You can!
"What else do you want to know?" Amanda asked.
"Tell me about the things you mentioned earlier," Kurt said. "What are cell phones? What are computers? What are drones?"
Amanda sighed.
"You want long answers or short?"
"I'll settle for short ones," Kurt said.
"All right. Cell phones are easy to explain. They are wireless telephones you can take anywhere. Most aren't any bigger than a box of cigarettes, but they are very powerful. They can transmit text, pictures, and sounds anywhere in the world in a matter of seconds."
"Go on."
"Computers are like large cell phones," Amanda said. "They have screens like televisions and keyboards like typewriters. People use them to write papers, play games, watch movies, and do a thousand other things."
"What about drones?"
"Drones are like little helicopters."
"What's a helicopter?" Kurt asked.
Amanda smiled sheepishly.
"Something that's still in the works."
Kurt rubbed his chin.
"What about people? Who will be famous in the future?"
"Can you be specific?" Amanda asked.
"All right. Who will be the next president?"
Amanda decided not to answer. It was one thing to explain a cell phone. It was another to reveal Franklin Roosevelt's successor with a war looming.
"I think I'll pass on that one."
"Why?" Kurt asked.
"I have my reasons."
"What about foreign leaders?"
"I think I'll pass on that too," Amanda said.
Kurt frowned.
"Does that mean you can't say anything about other countries?"
Amanda put her hands to Kurt's face.
"It means I won't say anything tonight," Amanda said.
"Will you tell me some things?"
"I will. I promise."
Amanda smiled as two thoughts hit her at once. The first was that she had finally opened Kurt's mind to time travel. The second was that their weekend was about more than just that.
"When?" Kurt asked.
"You'll see."
Amanda took Kurt's hand, kissed him softly, and gently tugged him toward the setting sun. She led him westward to a sixty-year-old hotel, an empty suite, and a long-overdue appointment.
Affairs of state, she reasoned, could wait until morning. Affairs of the heart could not.
CHAPTER 69: AMANDA
Sunday, July 23, 1939
Amanda had picked the Taylor Inn because of the charm it exuded in a brochure. The Victorian hotel at the corner of Congress Street and Beach Avenue boasted wide verandas, dormers, a red mansard roof, landscaped grounds, and an unfettered view of the ocean.
She had picked Suite 17 because it was all that was available when she scrambled to find a room in one of the busiest resort towns on the eastern seaboard. She did not bother to ask for the room rate when she made the reservation. She knew she would pay it.
Amanda fluffed a pillow behind her back, sat up in the large bed, and nudged the lightly clad young man to her left. When he didn't respond, she nudged him again.
"Wake up," Amanda said. "I ordered breakfast."
"You what?" Kurt asked.
"I ordered bacon, eggs, and pancakes for two people who aren't dressed to go out."
Kurt rolled over, wiped the sleep from his eyes, and smiled.
"That was very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Schmidt."
Amanda giggled at the reference. She had not become Kurt's wife in a quickie wedding, but she had become his weekend spouse in a dime store on Decatur Street.
The two had purchased rhinestone rings at one thirty and exchanged vows of secrecy before engaging the desk clerk at the Taylor Inn. They needed only to flash the bands a few times to convince the balding man that they were married and not mischievous.
"It was thoughtful of me," Amanda said. "I figured it was the least I could do for you after you so thoughtfully attended to my … um … vacation requirements."
Kurt blushed.
"If you say so."
"I say so," Amanda said with a smile. She let the tender moment linger before changing the subject. "Someone will bring us breakfast at ten. I guess the kitchen is a little busy this morning."
Kurt leaned to his right and kissed Amanda on the cheek.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"That's good, Mr. Schmidt, because we have a lot to talk abou
t."
Kurt nodded and sighed.
"OK. Where should we start?"
"Let's start with the big question," Amanda said.
"You want to know what it would take for me to 'give up everything'?"
"Yes. I want to know."
"It would take a lot, Amanda. It would take an awful lot."
"Can you be more specific?"
Kurt did not answer right away. He instead stared blankly at the far wall, took a few deep breaths, and tapped his fingers on his thighs. When he finally looked again at Amanda, he did so with eyes that revealed frustration, resignation, and more than a little sadness.
"What's the point?" Kurt asked. "It won't change anything."
"You don't know that," Amanda replied.
"I think I do. I think I know myself."
Amanda kicked herself for not picking up How to Win Friends and Influence People at the library. She was sure Dale Carnegie's classic had a chapter on dealing with difficult Germans.
"I just want an answer to the question," Amanda said. "I want to know what it would take for you, Kurt Schmidt, to leave your home, your country, and maybe your family and follow me, the woman you say you love, into the twenty-first century."
Kurt sighed.
"All right. I'll give you an answer."
"Thank you," Amanda replied.
"Like I said, it would take something big. It would take a crisis or a catastrophe or something I can't even fathom. It would take a war. Is that want you want to hear?"
Amanda smiled sadly.
"That's exactly what I want to hear."
"I thought so," Kurt said. He grabbed Amanda's hand and kissed it. "I wish I could give you more, but I can't. I can't order a catastrophe to save our relationship. I can't order a war."
Amanda gazed at Kurt with watery eyes.
"You can't . . . but I can."
Kurt tilted his head and stared.
"You can what?"
Amanda sighed.
"I can give you your war."
"Are you telling me a war is coming?"
Amanda nodded.
"It's almost here, Kurt. It's so close I can smell the smoke. It's going to be a big war, too, a conflict that will affect the whole planet and both of our families."
Kurt released Amanda's hand and turned away. He stared blankly at a wicker dresser for about a minute before returning to the time traveler in his bed.
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Kurt asked.
"I didn't because I promised others I wouldn't. I also counted on your family staying in D.C. I had hoped to keep my options open. Now it appears I have just one option left."
"What are you saying?"
Amanda leaned back against her pillow. She finally had Kurt's attention on the only matter that mattered. The question now was how to proceed.
"I'm saying I love you and want you to come back with me. I want to build something with you in the future," Amanda said. "I'm also saying that if you go to Germany now you may never get out. Europe is about to become a war zone."
"I have to see my family. You know I do."
"I know."
"Then say what you have to say," Kurt said. "I'll listen. If I can find a way to come back to you, I will. I love you too. I don't want to leave you either."
Amanda gazed at the fair-haired man with the blue eyes and wondered if she could do it. She had hoped to dissuade Kurt from leaving the country with vague warnings of wars to come. Now she had to do more. She had to wander into the dangerous realm of specifics.
"Do all Good Germans look like you?"
"What?" Kurt asked.
"Never mind."
"What are you thinking, Amanda?"
"I'm thinking I'm going to have to do something I didn't want to do. I'm going to have to trust you completely with information I have no right to share."
"You can trust me."
"Look at me," Amanda said.
"Why?"
"I want to see your eyes when I say this."
"All right," Kurt said.
Amanda grabbed his hand.
"Promise me that you will never repeat what I'm about to tell you."
Kurt met her gaze.
"I promise."
"I trust you, Kurt, and I want you to trust me," Amanda said. "So I'm going to tell you something that should leave no doubt in your mind that everything I've said is true."
"OK."
Amanda took a breath.
"In exactly one month, Germany and Russia will sign a non-aggression pact."
"That's not possible," Kurt said. "Hitler hates Stalin."
"You're right. He does. He despises him, in fact. But he's not going to sign this treaty to placate his enemy. He's going to do it to buy time."
"I don't understand."
"Hitler plans to use the pact to build up his defenses," Amanda said.
"You don't mean?"
Amanda nodded.
"He's going to invade the Soviet Union in 1941. He's going to be at war with Russia, Britain, America, and half the world in just two years."
"Good God," Kurt said.
"Don't worry about Russia. Worry about getting out of Germany alive."
"All right."
"I want you to remember two dates," Amanda said. "OK?"
"OK."
"I want you to first remember August 23. That's when the foreign ministers of Germany and the Soviet Union will sign the treaty. It will be in the news."
"I'll look for it."
"Most people will react to the treaty with concern but not alarm. That's because they won't know about a secret protocol that carves up Poland, Finland, Romania, and all of the Baltic States. They won't know that Hitler is preparing for war."
"What about the war?"
"It will start on September 1. Hitler will invade Poland. He'll declare war on the British and the French, they will declare war on him, and six years of slaughter will be under way."
"How do you know this?" Kurt asked.
"I'm a history major, Kurt, a history major with hindsight. I studied this period. I studied it for years. I know every detail. That's why you have to listen to me."
"I'm listening."
"That's good because I think you'll like this part," Amanda said.
"What part?"
"I want you to try to save your family. If you do nothing else, get them to Britain, France, or Switzerland by August 31. Then get back to this country as soon as possible."
"What if they resist?" Kurt asked.
"Then do what you can to persuade them. Beg. Bribe. Lie. Coax. It doesn't matter. Just say something to get them on a boat or a plane in August. You won't have another chance."
Kurt gazed at Amanda.
"I'll try. I'll do all I can to get them out."
"I know you will," Amanda said.
"I have two questions though," Kurt said.
"Ask."
"What can you offer my family in 2016?"
"I can offer a lot," Amanda said. "I can help your mom find a treatment for her cancer. I can help your dad and brother get a new start. I can help all of you find a better life."
"I see."
"What's the second question?" Amanda asked.
"Why should they leave Germany?"
Amanda stared at Kurt.
"Are you kidding?"
"No. I'm not," Kurt said. "I may need more than your promises to get them on a boat. Even if they believe a war is coming, they may choose to ride it out. Why should they leave?"
"They should leave because Germany's going to lose!"
Kurt tensed up.
"Hitler's going to lose?"
"Yes. Hitler is going to lose. Europe is going to lose. Sixty million people are going to lose. Your family is going to lose. They will have nothing to ride out but endless Allied bombing runs."
"I don't see how," Kurt said. "Hitler has the world's strongest army."
"He won't in six years. He will lose it all."
"Tell me
how."
Amanda sighed. She didn't want to say another word but knew she had to finish. It was time to put this conversation to bed.
"I can't say much except that Hitler is going to have a bad time in places like El Alamein and Stalingrad and Normandy. The Germans who survive the war will inherit a nation in ruins. Many of those who still have homes will face joblessness and starvation. There's no upside to staying in Germany, Kurt. There's a big upside to following me."
"When will you leave Princeton?"
"We plan to catch a train to Los Angeles on September 10. I will wait for you at our house until noon. If I don't see you by then, I'll assume you didn't make it," Amanda said. She leaned forward and kissed Kurt lightly. "I hope that you make it."
"I'll be there. I promise," Kurt said. "Wait for me."
CHAPTER 70: SUSAN
Princeton, New Jersey – Wednesday, July 26, 1939
Susan held on tightly as the sailor navigated an unfamiliar vessel through unfamiliar waters. She had faith in his ability to guide the boat to a safe location, but she didn't breathe easily until he stopped the craft, dropped anchor, and set up a dinner for two.
"Are you this kind to all the girls?" Susan asked.
Jack Hicks smiled.
"I am to the ones who can spell."
Susan laughed.
"You set the bar high."
"I suppose I do."
Susan could not complain. She could not imagine a better way to spend a lazy summer evening than dining with a handsome man in a rowboat in the middle of a placid lake.
"What do you have in the basket?"
"I have a lot of things, Mrs. Peterson," Jack said. "I have roast beef sandwiches, potato salad, Swiss cheese, and cherry pie, of course."
"Did you bake the pie, Admiral?"
"No. Your daughter did."
Susan giggled. She remembered seeing her date's co-conspirator preparing the dessert at ten that morning and had not given the act a second thought.
"I'll be sure to thank her tomorrow," Susan said.
Susan watched with admiration as Jack loaded the plates, lit a short candle, and then dug out a bottle of merlot. She found the dinner as impressive as the view to her right, where a saffron sun touched the tips of dogwood and sycamore trees on the west shore of Lake Carnegie.
"Has Amanda said goodbye to Kurt?" Jack asked.
"No. Not yet," Susan replied. "She'll say goodbye this Friday in New York."
Jack nodded.
"I see. Then how did her weekend go? Did she enjoy Cape May?"
Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2) Page 31
