Alternating Current: A Tesla Novel

by Agostino, John

  Phillip didn’t enjoy the mushy talk. “How about you ask “Baby” if he knows any mad scientists that were obsessed with electricity.”

  At first, Carrie laughed, but then she must have figured why not? She activated the speaker on her cell phone. “Hey Baby, I’m doing some research and I thought, since you work at the Smithsonian, you might be able to help me. Do you know an inventor who was a little crazy?”

  “Carrie, that's most inventors.”

  “Oh, I guess that’s true, what about someone who was obsessed with electricity?”

  “Oh, sure, Tesla.”

  “Who?”

  “Nikola Tesla. The Smithsonian ran an exhibit about him several years ago.”

  “Is that Tesla with one “s” or two?” Phillip sat ready to Google.

  “Carrie, who’s that?”

  “Baby, that’s Phillip. He’s helping with the research.”

  “Oh, hey, Phillip. It’s T-E-S-L-A”

  “Thanks.”

  “Thanks, Baby, see you tonight.”

  Google produced more than two million results for Tesla. The inventor of Alternating Current and the Tesla Coil, among others. The list was impressive. Tesla had also invented wireless technology for remote controls and the technology for x-rays, fluorescent lights, neon lights and much more. Phillip knew right then that his grandfather’s friend was not a loon.

  CHAPTER 8

  Phillip had spent yet another sleepless night surfing the Internet. He absorbed whatever he could find about Nikola Tesla, compliments of Google. He bored quickly with the websites that offered simple chronological lists of Tesla’s accomplishments or flimsy biographies. He wanted to know about the other Tesla, the man behind the concepts he’d seen, the ones never built. At the top of his list was Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide.

  “Phillip Washington, have you been up all night again.” His grandmother pushed the bedroom door open.

  “It’s okay, Grandma, I don’t have to work today.” Phillip shut his laptop.

  “What have you been doing young man?”

  “Just some research.”

  “What kind of research?”

  Phillip hesitated. He could never lie to his grandmother. “Tesla research.”

  “Who’s Tesla?”

  “You know---Grandpa’s friend.”

  “That old kook from The New Yorker?”

  “Yes, but he wasn’t a kook. He was a genius. I wish you hadn’t thrown away all his notes.”

  “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be wasting time on such nonsense.”

  Phillip noticed his grandmother’s labored breathing.

  “If you need something to research, try Brooklyn College. Find some classes you'll like.”

  “But Grandma, we can't afford it.”

  “Don’t you tell me what we can afford.” She steadied herself against the doorway.

  “Okay Grandma, I’ll check it out.”

  As soon as she left, Phillip went back to the Internet. He refined his search parameters to ignore the standard historical information, Tesla accomplishments and patents. Instead, he searched for personal information, public records, immigration records, medical history, friends, relatives, and business associates. He tried to find records and information about The New Yorker Hotel as well. Why would the government seize Tesla’s belongings? There had to be a conspiracy there somewhere.

  Hours and hours of Internet searches revealed Tesla never married or had children. His older brother, Dane, died when Tesla was five-years-old. He had three sisters, one older, Angelina, and two younger, Milka and Marica. Combined they gave him ten nieces and nephews. One nephew founded the Tesla Memorial Society. Phillip perused their website. Although well done, it contained the same accomplishments and accolades he’d found on other websites, along with a brief biography. Still, he bookmarked the site to review later.

  Phillip glanced down at his cell phone as it danced across the nightstand. The display had lit up, “Barnes and Noble.” He hesitated, certain they wanted him to work. But he was much too involved in his latest conspiracy theory. He scrambled to remember the excuse he used the last time they called, not wanting to use the same excuse. The cell phone still vibrating against the nightstand made for an awful ringtone. He thought about the sexy ringtone Carrie had programmed for her boyfriend. Somewhat jealous, he answered the phone anyway. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Phillip, it’s Carrie.”

  “Hey, sorry, I can’t work today. I have to clean my room.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. That’s not why I called. Last night, I told Buddy about the concept---

  “Wait a minute. Who’s Buddy?”

  “You know, Buddy. My boyfriend.”

  “Your boyfriend’s name is Buddy?”

  “Yeah, I told you that.”

  “No, you didn’t, but now I know why you call him ‘Baby’ all the time.”

  “That’s not nice. Anyway, I told Buddy how we thought the concept might be a nuclear bomb, and he said we should call the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. Then I told him you would never go for that since you think J.F.K. and Marilyn Monroe are still humping on an island somewhere. He didn’t get it. So I told him you liked to read books about conspiracies and you didn’t trust the government and he agrees with you. He told me about a former C.I.A. agent he met at a strip club and I asked what he was doing there, and he said the guy goes there a lot, and then I said I wasn’t asking about the guy, I was asking about him, and that started this big fight. Anyway, to make a long story short, Buddy thinks we should contact the former C.I.A. agent.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Phillip? Phillip? Are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. It just took me a minute to process everything you said."

  “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes. Should we call this guy?”

  “Maybe, but I need his full name first.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m gonna Google him.”

  Carrie said she'd call back after work. “Buddy goes back to D.C. tomorrow, I’ll see if he can arrange a meeting.”

  Phillip thanked her.

  ***

  Other than a brief trip to the kitchen and a couple to the bathroom, Phillip had stayed in bed with his laptop all day. He didn’t notice his grandmother had returned from work.

  “Phillip dear, are you okay? Why are you still in bed?”

  “Oh, I’m fine, Grandma.”

  “What have you been doing all day?”

  Phillip hid the laptop under the blankets.

  “Did you check on Brooklyn College?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well then, that means you’ve been researching Tesla all day.”

  Embarrassed, Phillip just nodded.

  “Why’s he so interesting?” Mavis leaned against the dresser.

  “He was ahead of his time, Grandma. He envisioned much of the technology we use today all the way back then. He was smarter than Thomas Edison, just not as famous.”

  “Phillip, the man your grandfather knew couldn't come close to Thomas Edison. He was a kook that spoke to pigeons and Martians.”

  “That may be true, but you know all those drawings he gave Grandpa? One of them was a nuclear bomb.” Phillip knew he shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t want his grandmother to worry any more than she already was.

  “Oh dear, it’s rubbing off on you. I want you to forget about this nonsense and get on with your life. Go to college. Join the military. Find a nice girl and get married. Something other than reading books.” She shouted as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. “I’m not gonna be around much longer you know.”

  The phone rang before Phillip could dispute his grandmother’s statement.

  It was Carrie. “Hi Phillip, the man’s name is Rudy Valentino, obviously not his real name so don’t bother with Google. Buddy doesn’t have his number; he'll have to contact him at the strip club, how convenient. Another big fight since he's obviously been there more than once,
I’m talking about Buddy, not lover boy Valentino, although he’s been there more than once, too. Anyway, Buddy says the only way to contact him is at the strip club; but what if he's lying about being in the C.I.A. the same way he’s fibbing about his name. On the other hand, he might be fibbing about his name because he really was in the-C.I.A. Anyway, what do you think? Should we go to D.C. to meet him?”

  There was another long pause. Phillip had heard and processed every word she said, he just thought she should catch her breath before he replied. “I think it’s a good idea. It'll give me a chance to get out of town for a day or two. Do you think Baby---I mean Buddy would let me stay at his place?”

  “I’m sure he would, I’ll set it up for this weekend. I’ll have to get Friday off, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Why do you need Friday off?”

  “I’m going with you, silly. I’ll drive.”

  ***

  The subject of Nikola Tesla didn’t come up at dinner that evening. Phillip had dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, fancy attire for him. He devoured the fried pork chops, mashed potatoes and creamed corn in a flash. “Thanks for dinner, Grandma. You go relax. I’ll do the dishes tonight.”

  “Thank you, Sweetie, but let me help, you wash and I’ll dry.”

  Phillip scraped the plates and placed them in the hot soapy water. “Grandma, I know you want me to finish school, but you already work too hard.”

  “Sweetie we’ll find a way, the government has grants and loans available.”

  “Well, if you really think I should go to college, maybe I’ll go with Rick to D.C. this weekend when he visits Georgetown.”

  “Georgetown! Now Sweetie, don’t get carried away.”

  “Oh, no, I’m just going to see the campus with him.”

  “I’m sure the coeds have nothing to do with it.”

  “Coeds? What’s a coed?”

  “Very funny. Just be careful and you better visit Brooklyn College when you get back.”

  Phillip placed the last clean dish in the rack. Thanks grandma, I’m going to stop by Rick’s house for a while. Goodnight.” Phillip grabbed his hat and cell phone and dashed out the kitchen door, he felt bad that he misled his grandmother. Still, he didn’t want her to worry. He called Carrie to plan their trip. “Hey Carrie, I can go to D.C. Friday, what time do you want to leave?”

  “Oh, okay, Phillip, can we talk about this tomorrow at work? It’s Buddy’s last night in town.”

  “Uh, sure, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Phillip went back inside the house. His grandmother had made a cup of coffee and was staring at one of the old photographs they had discovered in the attic. “That was quick. You forget something?”

  “No, Ma’am, Rick has a lot of homework.”

  “That’s too bad, Sweetie, I’m sure he wants to get it done before the trip.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he does.”

  Mavis asked her grandson to sit with her for a minute. “Sweetie, I have a confession to make.”

  Phillip couldn’t imagine what his grandmother wanted to confess. He tried to lighten up the situation. “It’s okay Grandma, I already know. You really bought the pink tricycle for me, right. And all those dolls are mine, too.”

  “No, Phillip, I’m serious. I threw those documents away for your own safety.”

  “For my safety?” The look on his grandmother’s face worried him.

  “Yes, for your safety. And that’s why I don’t want you researching Tesla anymore, either.”

  “But, I don’t understand. How is that unsafe?”

  “I’m not sure, Sweetie, all I know is that your grandfather was killed less than a month after Tesla died.”

  “Killed? I thought he was hit by a car?”

  “He was. Three days after the O.S.S. men had finished interrogating him.”

  Phillip’s jaw dropped. “O.S.S.?” He’d never heard of them.

  “Office of Strategic Something-or-other, before the C.I.A. was around. They questioned your grandfather for two days straight. They terrified us.”

  “And you think they killed him. The government?”

  “Them or Tesla’s nephew.”

  “His nephew?”

  “Yeah, the O.S.S. men told your grandfather that Tesla’s nephew, Sava, belonged to the Yugoslavian Communist Party. They left us strict orders to call the F.B.I. right away if any foreigners came to the house.” She took a sip of coffee then leaned closer to her grandson. “That’s why I threw all those documents away.”

  Phillip didn't speak. Did the U.S. Government really murder his grandfather? One thing was certain. He had found his conspiracy.

  CHAPTER 9

  Maria opened the door, but she didn’t say hello. “Angie, Nic, your father’s here.”

  Angie came down the stairs at once. Her long auburn hair, like her mother’s, flowing behind her. “Hi Daddy.” She hugged her father.

  “Hey Angel, I’ve missed you so much.” Turbo had forgotten how much she resembled her mother.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” She stepped back from her father and glared at her mother. “Can you believe your wife? Moving to Florida. Can I come live with you?”

  “I don’t know, Sweetie, I’m having a hard enough time taking care of myself these days.” The expression on his face screamed for “help.”

  “Angie, we’ve already talked about this. You’re going to Florida. Now go upstairs and get your brother.”

  “I need you to teach me how to use the washer and dryer before I leave.”

  “Okay, Daddy.” She ran upstairs.

  “What’s he doing up there?”

  Maria shrugged her shoulders and turned away.

  Turbo called up to his son. “Nikola, don’t you want to come down and see your old man?”

  “Don’t call him that. You know he doesn’t like it.”

  Angie ran back downstairs. “He won’t come down.”

  “That’s okay, Angel. I’ll see him later. So tell me, what have you been up to young lady, besides growing about six inches since the last time---

  Angie burst into tears, “Oh, Daddy.” She cried all the way back upstairs.

  Turbo glanced at Maria, perplexed. “What did I say?”

  “That’s the problem, William. You don’t know what you said. If you'd been around these past few weeks you would know that your daughter, the tallest girl at school, likes a boy that is much shorter than her.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know that? And don’t call me William.”

  “You’re her father, William, you’re supposed to know.”

  Turbo grunted at his wife and started toward the stairs.

  “Wait a minute.” Maria screamed and ran up the stairway ahead of him. She closed their bedroom door.

  “You got someone in there?” Turbo’s face turned red. “Maria, you better tell me. You got someone in my bedroom?”

  “It’s not your bedroom anymore.” Maria grinned as she blocked the door.

  “Step away.” Her smile only infuriated him more. “Step away from the door.”

  “William, remember the kids are home.” She stepped aside.

  Turbo rushed into the room. Nothing had changed, except for a few boxes over in one corner. He rushed to the closet, searched under the bed, went into the bathroom and even peered behind the shower curtain. When he came back out of the bathroom, Maria began laughing uncontrollably.

  Turbo laughed as well. Loud enough that Nic and Angie came out to check on them. “What’s so funny?” Angie’s eyes were bloodshot from crying.

  “Mommy, why are you laughing?”

  “Oh, I told your father a funny joke.”

  “Yeah, real funny.” Turbo chuckled.

  “Kids, go downstairs and check on dinner. I want to talk to your father for a minute. Set the table, too. Okay?”

  “Should I set a plate for Daddy?”

  “No, that’s okay, sweetheart. I’m getting good at using the microwave.”

&
nbsp; “Yes, set a plate for your father. We’ll be down soon.”

  When the kids left the room, Maria grinned. “You should’ve seen your face.”

  “Very funny.”

  “After all these years you think I would have another man in our bed, and with the children home?”

  “No, it’s not you that I’m worried about, it’s that new chick. The one that calls me William.”

  Maria smiled. “We need to talk, but it can wait till after dinner. Change your clothes. I’ll wash those while we eat.” Maria went downstairs to finish dinner.

  Turbo sat on the bed and then jumped up. Maria would kill him for sitting on the comforter with his work clothes still on.

  Turbo couldn’t have picked a better night to visit. Maria had cooked one of his favorite meals, corned beef and cabbage with potatoes and carrots, not glazed carrots. And he smelled apple pie in the oven. Coincidence?

  Turbo sat in Nic’s usual seat, forgoing his seat at the head of the table.

  “Hey, what are you doing? That’s my seat.”

  “No, you’re the man-of-the-house now. Sit at the head of the table.”

  Nic stood there awaiting direction. “It’s okay, sit down and say the blessing please.”

  Florida dominated the conversation throughout dinner. “Mom, what about my sled and my ice skates?” Nic asked.

  “We’ll keep them, dear. You’ll come back to visit.”

  “I’m not visiting him.”

  “Nic Trbojevic, that wasn’t nice. Apologize to your father---

  “No, you don’t have to apologize, Nic, and you don’t have to visit, either. Though, I’m sure Cosmo will miss you.” Turbo hung his head.

  “You’re a real jerk, Nikola.” Angie antagonized her brother.

  “Don’t call me that, Angelina.”

  “Nikola. Nikola. Nikola.”

  Splat. A wad of cabbage hit Angie in the face.

  “That does it. Go to your room, now.” Maria escorted him to the stairs. “Angie, please finish your dinner.”

  Turbo excused himself and went upstairs to talk to his son. “Nic, open the door, please.”

  “Go away.”

  “Son, open the door.”