The Silver Screen

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by The Silver Screen (retail) (epub)


  “No kidding. What is their part in all this?”

  “They are the archers, sending flaming arches into the sky to honor Sylvester’s passing. You know, the Viking sendoff.”

  “I can’t believe all this. Amazing.”

  “That it is,” Jack said.

  All of Slim’s friends now lined up, leaning a bit, but saluting the floating casket as the group of little people lined up alongside them lighting their arrows. Father O’Sullivan began the final blessing, made the sign of the cross and nodded to the archers that released the flaming tipped arrows that arched gracefully into the night sky, landing on the casket that drifted out to sea. Then the police sirens sounded again. This time it was alarmingly close.

  “Oh my god. The cops are coming. We’re all going to jail,” Kate said. Kate didn’t know whether to cry for the loss of the treasured pet or laugh at the most amazing moments in her life. Kate knew if she hadn’t seen all this with her own eyes, she never would have believed it. She looked at Jack and worried. He reached to hold her hand.

  “Don’t worry about the police. They will just round up the usual suspects.”

  “Very funny. Taking a line from Casablanca.”

  “But it’s true,” Jack insisted. “Remember, we’re in 1939. No CNN, no 24-hour news.

  “So that’s why we have our own getaway car.”

  “Yeah. Pretty much,” Jack grinned.

  Kate responded to his grin with a smile, but it was something she saw in his eyes that made her stomach flutter and her heart skip a beat. “Jack, what’s going on?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in to kiss Kate. A slow, lingering deep kiss that curled her toes to her knees.

  “Oh, god,” escaped her lips before she swayed against Jack. Time stood still. After what felt like forever, but in fact were barely moments, the police siren jarred them apart.

  “It’s getting closer,” was all Kate could manage to say.

  “I know,” Jack said, not taking his eyes off Kate. He reached to caress her face, following the line of her jaw and coming to rest on her lips. She felt completely enchanted. It was pure magic. And then he said, “Perhaps it’s time to go home.”

  Instantly she knew what he meant. Kate looked past him at the group making their final salute at the flaming casket. Father O’Sullivan was walking back on shore, having blessed the event. Kate knew then and there with complete clarity, it really was time to go back home. Back to 1999. She looked at Jack and said, “We are going to miss all this.”

  “We will.” And then he said, “Slim,” Jack called out. “Fabulous sendoff.”

  Slim turned, lifting his hat in acknowledgment. “Thanks, Jack. You too, Kate.”

  They both smiled, turned holding hands and walked a bit more briskly across the sand to their awaiting car to take them back to the hotel as they listened to the approaching siren of the police car.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  They all gathered in the hotel lobby Monday morning. Kate, Tilly and Archie arrived finding Jack and Hawk in a deep discussion. Both looked up at the sound of Kate’s voice. “Good morning, you two.”

  Jack looked nonetheless for wear in his snappy suspenders and bow tie. Hawk held a bit of caution in his eyes as Kate arrived. Jack stood up, greeted Tilly, Archie and smiled warmly at Kate. Hawk nodded to everyone, but said, “Nice to see you, Kate.”

  “Same here, Hawk.” The warm accepting timber in her voice let him know she had let the past go. It lifted a weight off his mind. He hoped they could start over on a better foot, even at this late date.

  Moments later Fred Raymond arrived, entering the lobby, making the group complete. Kate, sitting facing the hotel entrance, watched reluctantly with sadness as the car and driver pulled up to the hotel entrance. She turned to Tilly and said, “I guess this is it.” There was sadness in her eyes. “It’s been so great meeting you. You both.”

  Archie smiled and stood, as did the others. They walked the short distance to the hotel entrance as the door attendant greeted them, holding the door open for all to exit. The driver collected their luggage, placing it in the trunk. Hawk took several photos of the group at Fred Raymond’s request. Not one to show much emotion in a rare moment of sentiment. He patted Archie on the back, and then turned to kiss Tilly’s hand saying, “It’s been an honor and a pleasure.”

  “Thank you very much,” she said. Then she turned quickly to hug Kate, whispering in her ear, “Remember, I’m rooting for you both. Come and find us. I will miss you terribly.”

  “I promise I will,” Kate managed, as the lump in her throat grew heavy.

  Then the chauffeur closed the door as Tilly and Archie settled into the backseat. The car pulled away from the curb. The last Kate saw of Tilly was her gloved hand waving goodbye.

  Hawk excused himself to go work on some photos for Mr. Raymond as Jack and Kate moved across the lobby. Fred Raymond stopped and said, “I have some time now. Why don’t you two come along with me and we can go over your plans.”

  Kate looked at Jack and nodded. “Certainly,” Jack replied as they followed him upstairs to his office.

  Kate never got over the feeling of being in the principal’s office every time she met with Fred Raymond. He always projected a strong no nonsense aura. He lit a cigarette quickly and said, “So what have you two decided to do?”

  A moment passed when Jack began, “It was not an easy choice for too many reasons I don’t feel are necessary to go over. However, in the end, we decided to return to our time. 1999.”

  Kate had never seen Fred Raymond smile, but watching his response to Jack’s words, a small one tugged at the corners of his lips along with a flicker of relief in his eyes. Both vanished quickly when he commented, “I had faith in both of you. I can understand that it was tempting, but clearly there would be no going back if after some time you changed your mind.”

  Kate nodded in agreement, as Jack said, “We want to get on with our lives, however that plays out.”

  Fred Raymond looked from one to the other and remarked, “I gather there are feelings between you. It is hard to miss.”

  Kate, nervous, looked at Jack, but before either of them could respond he continued, “Some fatherly advice. Live your life well. Make it count. Both of you have had unique experiences. Take them with both hands and make the world a better place. Now,” he added, dismissing his previous sentimental tone and taking another puff of his cigarette he said, “You both need to see Dr. Hendricks for your shots. Some diet guidance will be given to you as well. You both will transfer Wednesday at noon along with Hawk. Jack, I will need to see you after my appointment with Miss Mitchell so

  you can transfer the package to Grauman’s Chinese this afternoon.”

  “Yes, sir. What time should I come by?”

  “I will leave it with Mildred. I suppose after two o’clock would be fine.” Fred Raymond stood, signaling that the meeting was over.

  * * *

  Margaret Mitchell hated being late. She felt it was complete bad manners. So on Monday afternoon she arrived a few minutes early. She was greeted warmly by Mildred, as she waited to see Fred Raymond. She noticed several boxes behind Mildred’s desk and several bookshelves were empty. How curious, she reflected. “Mildred, are you all moving?”

  “Oh my goodness. I do apologize, but we are packing up some things to put in storage in the valley for Tyme Productions.”

  “Of course,” Margaret said, “Moving. What a nuisance it

  can be.”

  Mildred smiled in agreement, but before she could say more Fred Raymond opened his door and welcomed Margaret Mitchell into his office.

  Seated Margaret Mitchell pulled out a cigarette as Fred Raymond reached across his desk to light her cigarette with his sterling silver lighter. “Wonderful to see you. I trust your visit in San Francisco went well?”

  “Oh,
yes. Thank you. I have the manuscript for you,” Margaret said as she pushed the box across the desk.

  He nodded as he reached for the documents awaiting her signature. “It’s all as we agreed. I just need your signature on the flagged lines.”

  “Very good,” she said as she reached for the pen.

  “I am certain the public will be delighted with the sequel, even 50 years from now,” Fred Raymond said.

  “That is nice of you to say, but I will not miss the publicity and invasion into my life. It is all simply a bit too taxing.”

  Fred Raymond nodded in understanding. He observed her turn her attention to get through signing all the documents, aware that she was high strung, always direct, but polite. He had respected her for that.

  “Besides,” she added, “. . . I still have all the social madness that is gripping Atlanta to deal with until the movie premier in December.” She took another puff of her cigarette. “Maybe after the social whirlwind in December I can return to a more normal life.” She put the pen down. “Either way, I will never write another book again. I think I’ve signed them all. Thank you.”

  Fred Raymond summoned Mildred, “Please make copies for Miss Mitchell. It has been quite the journey, our years together.”

  “Indeed it has,” Margaret agreed. “Please know I appreciate all you have done. So many in the industry say one thing and do another.”

  Fred Raymond didn’t even blink, knowing in his heart he was doing exactly that. “Now how long will you be in Los Angeles?”

  “About a week and then back to Atlanta.”

  Mildred entered then with the copies of the documents for Margaret. “So here you are.” He passed the envelope across to her. “Thank you for all your efforts. It has been deeply appreciated.”

  She smiled as she put out her cigarette stub. “We will stay in touch, of course?”

  “I hope that you will pass on my regards to Betty.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Thank you.”

  She put on her gloves as he stood to escort her out of the office. Then he turned to Mildred, “Please get the originals ready for Jack. He should be along shortly. A bit after two o’clock.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Fred Raymond returned to his desk, feeling it had been one of his best days. Archie and Tilly were safely on their way back to England. Kate and Jack had come to their senses to return to 1999. The frosting on the cake, Margaret Mitchell’s sequel to Gone with the Wind. Yes, it was indeed a good day.

  * * *

  Margaret Mitchell exited the elevator onto the lobby level. It all had been such a build up for the sequel. She decided she needed to celebrate. She turned heading to the bar for a quick drink. The bar was dimly lit and fairly quiet as she went to sit at a small side table. As she lit a cigarette, the waiter arrived. “What would you like, ma’am?”

  “A bourbon on the rocks.”

  “Very good.” He turned quickly to fill her order.

  As a curl of cigarette smoke swirled around her, she reflected that she had done the right thing. The sequel was safe with Fred Raymond. She realized perhaps while she was in Los Angeles she should invite Fred and his wife Betty to dinner. So much had been going on, she just never got to it.

  The waiter returned with her bourbon on the rocks. She took a deep drink. Liquid of the gods, she thought, smiling to herself. Too quickly, the glass was empty so she ordered another. Frankly, she was happy to sit in peace and quiet for a few minutes, but she grew more convinced she really needed to set up a dinner date with Fred and Betty. She finished her cigarette and promptly lit another. She reached to take another drink. Strangely, the glass was empty again. She signaled the waiter to bring another. Four was usually her limit, so she rationalized she was fine with three. She remembered she hadn’t eaten breakfast, so after she talked to Fred Raymond about a dinner date lunch was in order. She paid her bar bill and sauntered out of the room in search of an elevator.

  Somehow, she ended up down an odd hallway. She approached the first door, opening it, thinking it must be a small elevator for the domestic help. Two brooms, a bucket, and an apron hung on the wall. She stood a moment confused, and yes, a bit tipsy. But she decided riding this small elevator was okay as she searched for the button to push. A brass button labeled “Star.” She figured she could find Fred Raymond when she arrived on the upper floor. What happened next surprised her. The elevator went down instead of up. When the door opened she knew right away she was not only on the wrong floor, it didn’t look like it was part of the hotel. Curious, she stepped out onto the plain linoleum floor. The walls were painted pale green. She should have just turned around, gotten back in the elevator, but curiosity tugged her forward.

  No one was there as she passed a few rooms that held racks of clothing that looked perhaps like they were wardrobe from a movie, but there was a dull humming sound that intrigued her, propelling her down the hall and around the corner when she came to a sudden stop. What she saw was like nothing else she had ever seen. It looked like a movie set for the future. A large room was nearly consumed by a liquid silver screen. Electric boxes held large green numbers. As she took a step closer to the screen, the numbers moved to purple. Nothing else changed as she looked around at the wall of machines. Her heart was beating fast with a sense of excitement. Then she stepped closer to the screen. Fascinated, she wondered what would happen if she touched it. Briefly, the humming sound increased and she remembered the childhood verse. “Curiosity killed the cat.” But that only brought a wicked smile from her. Gingerly, she reached out to it. Two things happened. The numbers went to red, but nothing else harmed her. She withdrew her hand. She was still feeling pretty tipsy and was having a hard time navigating the thick rubber hoses, but she took off one of her gloves and the second time reached out to feel the liquid silver. It was so cool; it left her with a mild tingling feeling.

  Then she suddenly sneezed. It threw her off balance. Unable to regain her footing she suddenly fell through the silver screen. She experienced blinding white light and then everything went black.

  * * *

  Fred Raymond had just finished talking to his wife Betty. They had firmed up plans for the coming weekend when he would be flying east to Boston. He would be able to start his retirement, something he was really looking forward to. Then the intercom buzzed and Mildred said, “I’m sorry, sir, to interrupt, but there is an emergency.”

  “Emergency? What are you talking about?”

  “Dr. Hendricks,” was all she was able to say before he burst into Mr. Raymond’s office.

  “What’s going on?” He demanded, not pleased to be interrupted and definitely not pleased with the look on Dr. Hendricks’s face.

  “There was a transfer,” he said.

  “No. No one is going until Wednesday.”

  As Dr. Hendricks cut in, “But we did have one and this is all that’s left of her.” Dr. Hendricks held up the glove, instantly recognizable by Fred Raymond as belonging to Margaret Mitchell.

  “Dammit. It’s Margaret Mitchell’s, and now she’s in 1999.”

  Dr. Hendricks was at a loss of words as Fred Raymond rattled on. “Wasn’t there someone down there?”

  “Apparently not. Everybody had gone to lunch, besides it’s been so quiet, there really was no need.”

  “Well, there is a need now.” Raymond was furious that someone could slip through again, but Margaret Mitchell brought it all to a whole other level of concern. “They will have to do a boomerang and we will have to have everything in place once she returns. They know what to do in 1999.”

  Dr. Hendricks nodded.

  “But she will have the hangover of her life.”

  “Speaking of hangovers,” Dr. Hendricks cut in, “I checked and she had stopped in the bar for several bourbons.”

  “Great. So she was drunk when this happened?”


  “Well, pretty much on her way, I would say.”

  “All right. Get the crew together for her return.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said as he quickly left Fred Raymond. That a day that had started out so well was becoming the worst of his life.

  Margaret Mitchell woke up and looked around realizing she could be in a hospital. Pale green walls, but with more gizmos and gadgets on the wall that made her blink. She felt exhausted as she looked around, but it was the screen like the movie screen high on the wall where color pictures and a flowing news stream was showing that confused and amazed her. She tried to speak and nothing came out. A doctor entered quickly. “Well, Miss Mitchell, I’m glad to see you are awake. I’m Dr. Neil.”

  She looked at him. Salt and pepper hair, but a young face, light blue eyes, tall, all normal, but it didn’t feel normal. She tried to speak and finally managed, “Where am I?”

  “You are in the infirmary,” Dr. Neil replied.

  She looked up at the screen on the wall and pointed, “What’s that?”

  “That is a television. Here’s a remote if you would like to change the channel.” He might as well have been speaking Chinese.

  Ignoring his remark she said, “No. We have to talk. Where am I?” She asked again. Her mouth felt like sandpaper.

  Dr. Neil believed truth was always best when he answered, “You are in Los Angeles in the infirmary. In 1999.”

  Her response to that was, “Heavens, I must have had more to drink than I thought.”

  “Unfortunately, the alcohol in your body isn’t helping, but it is the truth. You are in 1999.”

  “Can’t be,” she mumbled. But her eyes drifted from Dr. Neil to the color images. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. It was just overwhelming.

  Dr. Neil’s words cut into her thoughts. “Now, I’m going to give you a shot to help restore your body, and then we will send you back to 1939.”

  “What hogwash,” she sputtered. Now she was mad. “Who do you think you are? Some magical wizard? I don’t see any magic wand.”

 

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