by Box Set
I was a little shocked at the price when the clerk rang it up, and I had just barely enough. I stuffed the clothes into the empty pack I’d brought along.
I hurried home and got back just as Mom called for me to set the table. It was strange to eat dinner with just the two of us.
“Why doesn’t Tim live here?” I asked as I scraped the last of my pasta from my plate.
Mom’s eyes shifted to mine. “You were there, Casey. The judge let him choose. He chose Dad.”
The bitterness in her voice was barely perceptible, but I caught the edge. I pinched my lips together to keep from saying anything else. I’d have to satisfy my curiosity some other way.
I went to bed early, telling Mom I had a lot of homework, which was probably true. I was surprised the school hadn’t called. Maybe they didn’t do that in this timeline, or maybe not for seniors, or maybe luck was on my side and Mom just missed it. Maybe we didn’t have an answering machine. I was dead-tired and wasted no time getting ready for bed. I longed for my pillow and comfy blankets. I fell asleep to the drone of the television show Mom was watching on the other side of the wall.
In what felt like just minutes later, I startled awake by a loud, high-pitched siren. The air smelled weird. Smokey.
“Casey!” My mom rushed in and flicked on the lights. “Quick. There’s a fire in the building. We have to get out right now.”
My heart rate went from zero to sixty in a second. Mom wouldn’t give me time to change, so I just grabbed my backpack and a jacket and slipped on my sneakers.
The halls were filled with tenants filing out in their pajamas. I wore a thin tank top and fleece PJ shorts. I worked my arms into my jacket sleeves as I went down. We were hit with a blast of cool, midnight air as we neared the exit. A firefighter stood outside, holding the door open.
“Quickly, but no running!” he shouted. “Cross the street for instructions.”
Mom and I hurried across the road where another firefighter corralled us down a block to a makeshift station where we were told to sign our names on a clipboard. “So we know everyone is out,” a police officer explained.
Hot orange flames flickered out of the windows on the fourth floor, just above our apartment. The roof buckled, and a loud collective gasp filled the air as the roof collapsed on one corner.
If we hadn’t gotten out when we did, we would’ve been killed.
I felt dizzy. I let go of my mom’s arm and let myself fall into the light.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Traveling through time was disorienting enough when you knew where you were going and what to expect. I knew my way around 1863 Cambridge. I had a stash of supplies hidden where no one else would find them. I had a surrogate family and friends.
A lump thickened in my throat as I took in my surroundings. Dawn was just breaking, but already there were people milling about and slow-moving, noisy jalopies on the street. I had to get out of sight before I made a spectacle of myself, standing in an empty lot wearing skimpy pajama’s with my long, wildly curly hair hanging down my back. There was a chill in the morning breeze, and my arms and legs broke out in goose bumps.
I thought I’d have Nate along with me to navigate, but I was on my own, and I had to buck up and take care of matters myself. At least I had my backpack with the costumes. I slipped behind an old, wooden building that leaned slightly like it could no longer fight back against the wind. I opened my pack and removed the green dress. I slipped it on over my pajamas, happy that the hem fell to my knees, covering my shorts. The thick pantyhose helped to warm my bare legs. Tying my hair into a low bun, I pulled the hat over top, then I exchanged my sneakers for the two-inch heels. Lastly, I wrapped the faux-fur shawl around my shoulders. I suspected I was over dressed for the time of day. Furs likely didn’t come out until evening, but what did I know? Besides, I was cold.
I looked around for a place to hide my backpack, an item that was clearly not from this decade. I considered the building I’d first encountered, but couldn’t risk the owner coming to tear it down some day. Development progressed rapidly in the twenties, unlike the nineteenth century, when I could confidently bury supplies without a worry that someone might build a house over top of them or dig them up with a backhoe.
I settled on a groundhog hole, using a stick to make it larger. I took a drink from the bottle of water I’d packed, returned it to the backpack, and then I pushed the whole thing inside the hole and covered it with dirt. I made sure to mark it with sticks and rocks so I could find it again, but not so obvious to attract attention from anyone else who might cut through this lot.
Now I had to find a way into Boston and back to Marlene’s brownstone. It was a long walk, and I didn’t have any money for a tram, though I supposed I could hitch the bumper again, but I wasn’t sure where the rail was. I made my way to a main road, wondering if people hitchhiked in this decade. Men probably did, but I doubted women did. Not the respectable ones anyway.
I had no choice. I walked backward, so I could see the drivers. I avoided men-only occupied vehicles, sticking my thumb out if I saw a woman in the passenger seat. A male driver spotted me and began to slow. I experienced a moment of relief until the woman in the passenger seat flashed me a sour look and poked her husband in the arm. Her voice carried through the opened window. “Keep going, Donald!”
I was beginning to think I would have to walk the whole way when a Model T with a female driver puttered to the curb. None of the vehicles until now had a female driver, so I was surprised and thrilled to see her. She was young, with wide, blue eyes, and more makeup than I was used to seeing on women at this time of day. Her hair was a common brown, but styled with perfect waves that ended at the collar of her dress.
She beckoned me over. “Need a ride?”
“Yes!” I said as I pulled on the door handle. “Thank you!”
“My name’s Lolly,” she said with a confidence I admired.
“I’m Casey.” My hand automatically reached for a seatbelt, but of course there wasn’t one. I rested my hands on my lap.
“Where ya headed, Casey?” Lolly asked. She stepped on the clutch with her left foot and put the car into gear.
“North Boston.”
“That’s where I’m headin’!”
The jalopy jerked as she pulled into traffic. “That’s great,” I said.
Lolly handled the standard transmission like a pro, hands firmly gripping the large steering wheel at two and ten. “How long have you been driving?” I asked. She didn’t look like she could be much older than I was.
“My pa had me driving the tractor on the farm since I was ten.” She spoke loudly as the car roared ferociously. Mufflers weren’t well developed yet. “Transitioning to an automobile was a breeze.”
Lolly wore a fashionable dress, noticeably better in quality than mine, and I suddenly felt like a chump sitting next to her. She cast casual glances at me, and I could see the question marks in her eyes.
“Where ya from?” she asked. I knew this question would arise eventually so I’d spent my time walking creating a backstory.
“I’m from Cambridge. Grew up on a farm, too.” I counted Watson’s farm as my time growing up, so up until now, I was telling the truth. I inhaled before diving into the “story” part.
“I’m tired of working on the farm and told my parents I had to leave. Find my own way. I’m heading into the city to look for work.”
“And how! Women don’t need to be stuck in the kitchen any more. We are modern women.” She laughed and gave me a girl-power look. “I’m going to get a job as a secretary! As soon as I make enough money, I’m movin’ into the city, even though it’ll break my poor mama’s heart.”
“Why will it break her heart?”
“I’m the baby of the family, and she doesn’t like the idea of me leaving the farm. Plus, she hates the way I dress, and the friends I keep. She hates that I’ll have a job. But I have to be free, Casey. Be my own woman!”
I smiled
with understanding.
“Ma and Pa want me to marry Johnny,” Lolly continued, “the farm boy next door, so we could join our farms, but I’m done with farmin’ I tell ya.” She slapped the steering wheel. “Done.”
We came to one of the few traffic lights and Lolly jerked the jalopy to a stop. “Hey, did you hear about that Chicago massacre? Wasn’t that somethin’? People just can’t stop talkin’ about it.”
I hadn’t had time to brush up on my twentieth-century history but I had a vague idea. “Al Capone?” I said, testing.
“Well, he was in Florida when those seven fellas were lined up against the wall and killed, but the rumor is he was behind it.” The light changed back to green, and we puttered forward.
“I bet he never gets arrested.” She flashed me a serious look. “I bet he gets away with murder.”
Talking about Al Capone reminded me of his great-grand-nephew Sam Capone. Al was a bad dude, but that didn’t mean his unscrupulous ways were passed down through the genes, did it? My nervousness over Lucinda’s new relationship just upped a notch.
We were nearing the Longfellow Bridge. I stared at the 1929 version. It looked much the same, with the “salt and pepper” towers midway, but in much better shape. The sun glistened off the surface of Charles River with a beauty that made me gasp. I loved Boston, no matter the era.
Lolly suddenly remembered why I was hitching a ride into town. “What kind of work ya interested in, Casey?”
“I don’t know yet. I have a friend I hope can help me.”
“Yeah? What’s her name? Maybe I know her.”
I hesitated. “Marlene Charter?” I didn’t know if Marlene would consider me a friend, especially now that Nate and I had disappeared without one word of thanks for her hospitality.
“Marlene Charter! Nifty! We’re chums! In fact, that’s where I’m going right now!”
I gaped at her. “Seriously?”
She frowned a little in confusion. “Why would I lie?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean I thought you were lying. I just meant, wow, what a coincidence.”
She reached over and patted my arm. “It’s serendipity, Casey. Serendipity.”
I did a little happy dance in my seat. Things had a way of working out. I’d see Marlene today, talk her into leaving her stocks alone, and all would be fine once again. Easy peasy.
I should know better.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Marlene and I go back to grade school,” Lolly said. “Her family used to live on a farm down the road from ours. They sold it when her dad got sick, and they moved into town.”
“Did her dad pass away?” I asked.
“Yeah. Years ago.” Her eyes darted toward me before cutting back to the road. She geared down as the traffic slowed at the other end of the bridge. “She never told ya?”
“We don’t actually know each other that well,” I admitted.
Lolly scrutinized me from under her thick eyelashes. “How do you know her?”
Ack, the question I wanted to avoid! I didn’t know how secret Marlene’s dancing gig was. Speakeasy clubs were illegal. She could go to jail if she were discovered. I didn’t want to blow the whistle on her. “Ah, we met—”
Just then the car jolted to a stop and Lolly laid on the horn. My body flung forward. Because I didn’t have a seatbelt, my right shoulder hit the dash. Thankfully, we hadn’t been going that fast but I could tell by the throbbing under my flesh that I’d have a nice bruise. I peered out the window. We were inches away from nailing the big, narrow-rim spare tire attached to the back of the fancy car in front of us. The man driving the car studied us through his oversized rearview mirror. I couldn’t miss his full, dark eyebrows furrowed over angry eyes. My blood swooshed through my body as recognition dawned.
Sheldon Vance!
I ducked low.
“Are you all right?” Lolly asked. “Sorry about that sudden stop, but we’re fine now. You can sit up.”
Except that I couldn’t risk that Sheldon would recognize me. “I’m fine. Just hurt my shoulder a little. I stayed bent over, facing away from the window, and rubbed my arm with exaggeration.
The traffic moved slowly and eventually we turned off the main road and out from behind Sheldon Vance’s car. I sat up and let out a breath of relief.
“Feeling better?” Lolly asked, concern etched on her face.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had to rub it out, you know?”
Lolly pulled to a gentler stop along the curb on a street lined with brownstone row houses. I barely recognized Marlene’s place—it looked different in the daylight. The bricks were a lighter shade of red than I’d remembered and the curtains in the window looked more green than blue.
Lolly skipped up the cement steps to the front door and knocked. I followed with far less enthusiasm. I was winging it here. A lump of dread settled in my gut. I was here to fix things, but I could just as easily make things worse.
Marlene opened the door and squealed, delighted at the sight of her long-time friend Lolly. They hugged and laughed.
“Your dress is the berries!” Lolly exclaimed.
Marlene did an impromptu twirl. “I just bought it last week.” She eyed Lolly’s hair. “Your finger curls are the bees knees!”
Lolly patted them in appreciation. “Thanks!”
Marlene finally took a moment to appraise me. Her friendly demeanor disappeared. “You?”
“Hi,” I said, and waved sheepishly. Marlene’s gaze ran up and down over my costume. No words of praise for my dress or my hair.
“What are you doing here?”
Lolly’s eyes flickered with confusion. “I thought you were friends?”
“That’s a stretch,” Marlene said. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
Figured she’d be more interested in Nate than me. I couldn’t blame her. “He had to go. Look, I’m sorry about leaving suddenly after breakfast the other day. It was rude.”
“I’d say it was rude. And after my being so helpful and generous.”
“Hey,” Lolly interjected. “What’s going on?”
My mind raced for something to say. Marlene looked like she was about to kick me out, and I couldn’t leave before I had somehow convinced her to leave her money in stocks. “I have an explanation,” I said quickly. “Nate felt sick and needed fresh air. I took him outside for a bit and he complained about being dizzy. I was worried he had a concussion.”
“He seemed fine to me.”
“Well, sometime symptoms can be delayed.” For emphasis I added, “You should see his shiner!”
“Shiner?” Lolly asked.
Marlene’s expression mellowed. “Is he okay?”
I nodded. “He’s resting at home.”
Lolly crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Marlene threaded her arm through Lolly’s. “Don’t worry. Everything’s Jake. Casey’s sheik got into a street fight. I helped them. Anyway, I have a surprise for you! Come see!”
Marlene held Lolly’s hand as they skipped up the steps. I hadn’t been specifically invited to join, but I hadn’t been asked to leave either, so I followed them up.
We entered Marlene’s room to more squealing and laughter. “Shirley!” Lolly shouted. More hugging, and jumping up and down. “When did you get back?”
“Just this morning.” Shirley didn’t really look like Marlene, except for a bit around the eyes and mouth. She was shorter than her sister with bobbed red hair framing her face from under a green cap.
“And look!” Shirley held out her left hand and flashed a small diamond ring.
Lolly’s eyes widened, and she squealed. “Handcuffs? Theodore?”
“Yes!” Shirley said. “We’re getting married!”
More jumping and exclamations. I felt like an extra thumb on a large hand. Shirley finally noticed me. “Hey,” she said, “I’m Marlene’s sister, Shirley.”
“I’m Casey.” I motioned toward her hand. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thanks! I’m so excited.”
The three of them huddled on Marlene’s bed while I sat alone on a small empty spot on Shirley’s bed. Most of it was covered in clothes and boxes and accessories. Apparently, she was preparing to move out.
“When is the big day?” Lolly asked.
Shirley blushed. “Next weekend.” She hurriedly added, “Theodore got a swell job on Wall Street in New York City. He even gets his very own office. He starts next week, so, that’s why we have to rush. He’s there now, getting us an apartment. Oh, I’m so excited to be a wife! And shopping in New York City is the cat’s meow!”
I smiled and hoped I looked happy for her. She didn’t know that her new husband would be losing that job within half a year, and that frivolous shopping would be a thing of the past for her and thousands of others.
Selfishly, I was glad she was getting married and moving away. It meant there was an empty bed for me once in a while, providing I could gain Marlene’s friendship and come up with a good story as to why I keep disappearing.
I suddenly really, really missed Sara Watson.
Shirley hopped off the bed and started rummaging in her closet. A brown boxy suitcase with a sepia paisley interior sat open on the floor, and Shirley began filling it. I moved over to the other bed and joined Lolly and Marlene. Lolly patted my arm. “Casey here is in need of a job. Got any ideas, Marlene?”
Marlene shot me a look, and I knew I’d been right not to bring up the dancing gig. “I may know someone who could use a dishwasher.”
She might have meant it as a slight, but I was happy to take a dishwashing job. Dishwashers were practically invisible, hidden from the pubic and ignored by the rest of the kitchen staff. Exactly the situation I was looking for.
“That would be great.”
Marlene shrugged. “We can ankle over later.”
“Hey.” Lolly nuzzled close to Marlene. “Any more on your sugar daddy?”
Marlene’s eyes widened in alarm. Lolly giggled. “It’s okay. It’s not like Casey knows him. Besides, she has a fella, right?” She turned to me. “And I can’t wait to hear all about him, but first let’s hear about Sheldon.”