Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book II

by Robert P McAuley

  He shrugged. “I like you and I can’t let you like me. In fact, I got to stop liking you.”

  “But why?”

  “’Cause, I got to go away.”

  “Go away? Where are you going?”

  John grinned and with a faraway look in his eyes said, “Home. That’s where . . . home to then, I mean, to there . . . ohh you know, to home, that’s where. And you can’t go there so I got to stop liking you and you got to stop liking me. Okay?”

  MaryLu lowered her eyes and said quietly, “If you say so, John. When are you going home?”

  “When?” John looked at his watch as if for the answer. “I don’t know. Maybe never! Probably never, they don’t seem to hear me when I call.” He shrugged again.

  “Who?” She asked.

  “Bill.” John said. “He can’t hear me. I think I have to stay here forever.”

  She shook her head. “Is it so bad here?”

  He looked at her and shook his head slowly. “No . . . it’s nice here. I have a great job, good boss and it’s cheap here too.” He perked up suddenly. “And I have a pretty girlfriend, too.” He smiled at her. “You are my girlfriend, huh?”

  “If you want me to be your girlfriend, John,” she answered. “If you want me to be your girlfriend, I will.”

  “But,” John slurred, “we can’t ever get married. Okay? Or we can’t talk about it for about two years. Okay?”

  MaryLu looked at him for a minute before answering. “Okay, John. We won’t speak of marriage . . . at least for two years.”

  “Okay, then,” he said and handed her a small present from his pocket. The wrapping paper was wet and the ribbon bent out of shape from being stuffed in his pocket for hours. “Here. Merry Christmas.”

  She opened it and smiled as she looked at it. It was a small, jade and pearl brooch. “John, I love it. I’ll wear it forever.” She looked back at him and saw he was fast asleep. She put his feet up and covered him with a blanket. She kissed his cheek and whispered, “John Brand. I love you now, and I’ll love you forever. I know we may not be together forever because I know you seem to be looking for something I can’t give you. Maybe no one can. But I’ll be here for you.” She sat back and listened to his breathing as the Christmas tree lights lit the room, and outside she could hear carolers singing.

  1938 came in as a cold front bringing even more snow. John and MaryLu were usually together after work and on weekends. John knew he had said something about their relationship that cold night at her place, but he couldn’t remember what and he couldn’t bring himself to ask her.

  MaryLu seemed to have come to terms with the kind of relationship John seemed to want, strictly platonic. He had to admit he enjoyed living in the past for many reasons. He took MaryLu to see the live acts on Broadway and to Coney Island when it was fairly new. He tried to find the spot where the Parachute Jump ride would be set up after the war.

  She couldn’t understand why he loved riding the subways so much. To John it was not only the five-cent price, but also, the old cars with the woven rattan seats that were out of style before he was born. He loved putting two cents into the chewing gum machines that were attached to the steel beams in the stations, or weighing himself for one penny. Each station seemed to have an upright scale that had no graffiti on its face.

  He truly was living in the past in every sense of the word. He enjoyed sitting and talking with Ben in the garden. Ben had lived through a lot and gave him good advice. John thought back to the last talk they had. It showed that living from day-to-day as John was doing, wasn’t good for a person.

  It was early spring in 1938, and they were sharing coffee from Ben’s thermos before John went to work. He looked at the door he knew as the Time Portal. It’s just an ordinary door now, he thought. No more, no less.

  “Penny for your thoughts, Johnny.” Ben said.

  John shook his head. “Just thinking. This garden is a refuge of sorts. A refuge for birds and small creatures that seem to know that if they wander outside the gate, it’s a different world. Maybe a hostile world. They seem to know just where to stop and be content.”

  Ben looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “You know, John, I never know which John is going to share my coffee: The happy young man with a great future, or the sullen guy who looks at things the way an old man does.”

  John smiled a knowing smile and looked into Ben’s wise eyes. “I’m old, Ben. Believe me, I’m old.”

  Ben shook his head slowly. “You don’t know what old is, Johnny. Old is knowing your days are growing shorter. Not being sure if you can support your family in these bad times. That’s old.” Then he smiled. “Not that I’m griping though. I’m happy to be working and supporting my wife and me. I’m happy to be the person keeping the garden alive for Mr. Mylar.”

  John turned and looked at him. “Mr. Mylar, is he a nice guy?”

  Ben shrugged his shoulders as he looked back at John. “Don’t know. I just met him once, briefly. He sort of looked like you. I like that he pays me on time. Every week he sends me a check. Even during the winter when the flowers are dormant. He’s a good man as far as I’m concerned, especially how he hired me.”

  “How he hired you? I don’t understand. How was that?”

  Ben looked up at the sky as he spoke. “I’ll never forget that day. It was early in the Depression, August 15, 1930. I was one of the thousands out of work. I was a draftsman for a steel company before that. Anyhow, I heard there was going to be a job opening for a gardener. I didn’t know anything about flowers then, but I had my wife and little girl to take care of so I came down here. I thought I didn’t have a chance when I got here.” He took a sip of coffee then continued.

  “There was a big gardening company here with a truck and all this modern gardening equipment. I found out later they did most of the gardening work in the five boroughs and just wanted to add this to their list. Anyway, I turned around to walk away when this young man came running out of the main door.” He pointed to the door John knew as the Time Portal and went on. “He ran right over to me and asked me if I wanted to be his gardener. Boy, I jumped at it. I heard the job went for seven dollars a week, but he said it was fourteen dollars a week. I couldn’t believe my ears. My family was saved. And he must like what I’m doing because every year he gives me a big raise.”

  John smiled, gave Ben a pat on the back and got to his feet. “Great story, Ben. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. Now I have to run. Got a story to write. Take care of yourself.”

  Later, he remembered Ben had gotten up, picked up a pair of pruning shears and walked around the outside of the walled garden. John stopped outside the garden wall as he usually did, only once a week now, and opened the communicator.

  He typed in the usual, “BILL, ARE YOU THERE? JOHN BRAND.” He closed and pocketed the device and was shocked to feel it vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and with wide eyes saw a message on the screen.

  “JOHN, WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT DATE AND TIME? BILL SCOTT.”

  John’s fingers were trembling as he typed in, “OUTSIDE OF THE 1800 CLUB’S GARDEN, MAY 5, 1938 AND IT’S 8:45 IN THE MORNING.” John ran back to the garden and watched as the door flew open and there stood Bill Scott. He opened the gate and John embraced him.

  “John,” Bill said, “Come in. We have a lot to talk about.”

  DATELINE: 2011 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB NEW YORK CITY

  John was almost teary-eyed as he sat in an overstuffed chair opposite Bill. They had coffee and a cigar as John looked at the big-screen TV. “Who won the World Series? Is all well in this time? I mean . . . how did you bring me back? I mean, the inventor’s great-great-grandfather died. I never was able to complete my mission and get the Hindenburg over to Lakehurst. It blew up somewhere . . . I believe over the English Channel.”

  Bill put up his hand, “Whoa, big guy, whoa. I know you have a million questions and so do I. But first, I have to tell you the people of the future always thought John Mudge had invent
ed the Time Machine. Then, when his great-great-grandfather didn’t survive the Hindenburg as he was supposed to, he didn’t ever exist so the Time Machine was never invented.

  “But! It turns out that Mudge never did invent it. He bought the invention from a Jack Lenhardt. It seems Mr. Lenhardt was broke and on the verge of bankruptcy. Mudge knew this and bought the invention and claimed it was his. Lenhardt kept quiet as part of the deal. Well, with no Mudge around, it took a little longer for Lenhardt to get enough money to perfect his Time Machine.” He flicked his ashes and went on.

  “When the Hindenburg went down over the Channel, the whole time project stopped, and you were stranded back there. So, because it took longer for Lenhardt’s Time Machine to be built, we all started out later. And you were stranded back in time during the period it took to get straightened out.” He paused and sipped his coffee and then continued his story to an astonished John.

  “Something else, too, John. I had the boys in the future send a drone back and enter the Hindenburg before its final flight. It found a bomb inside between a gasbag and the outer skin in the ship’s rear section. It didn’t see who put it there, but at least we know where it is.”

  Bill spread out a blueprint of the Hindenburg. “This was provided by them, and it shows the exact spot where the bomb is located,” he said, pointing at the blueprint. “We have to defuse it. Now tell me what went wrong.”

  It took John an hour to give just an outline of his past year in the late thirties. His head was spinning.

  “So the Hindenburg didn’t have to be brought to Lakehurst after all?” he asked.

  Bill took a puff on his cigar and shook his head. “Well, that’s what you would think, but we found out that on board the ship was an ancestor of a Mrs. Eva Bruining. Mrs. Bruining discovered a cure for diabetes, and it is important her ancestor survive. There are also the many others whose lives would be snuffed out along with their ancestors if we don’t bring the airship back to Lakehurst.” He sat forward. “John, we simply have to go back and have the Hindenburg explode over Lakehurst after all. But this time I’ll go.”

  John sat there stunned. Finally, he shook his head as though clearing the cobwebs.

  “What? No way you go! I go! You can’t. You have to believe me, Bill. The mission would fail again. I know all of the pitfalls. I have to go.”

  “But,” said Bill, “you must be drained.”

  John’s eyes narrowed as he spoke. “Bill, I made a big mistake. I thought I was a high-and-mighty guy going back in time to fix things. I treated it as a game, never thought anyone from back there could be as smart or smarter than I, the guy from their future.” He folded his hands and looked at the floor.

  “I looked at them as low-tech, naive people from the past. I should have remembered that these were members of a ruling government who were damn smart people. Damn smart because in order to get to that status, it wasn’t the high-tech stuff, it was their intelligence and cunning that got them to where they were. I looked at them as black-and-white newsreel film people when, in fact, they were flesh and blood, thinking beings just as smart or smarter than I.”

  He shook his head again, drew on his cigar and continued. “I never really had a plan. I kind of winged it, and they caught me. Well, this time I’m ready for them. It’s my turn.”

  Bill nodded. “You’re sure? You can brief me, and I’ll go if you’re not sure.”

  “I’m one hundred percent sure. I just want some more information out of the archives first.”

  “Whatever you need, John, you just tell me and I’ll have it ready. When do you want to go back?”

  John stubbed out his cigar. “As soon as possible. I have a lot to clean up. I’ll make my list right now. Okay?”

  Bill rang for Matt. “We’ll burn the midnight oil tonight, John.”

  Bill checked the finished list and that night left a voice-mail message for an old friend from the East Coast U.S. Navy SEAL unit they had served in.

  “Hi, Jake. It’s Bill Scott, your old SEAL-mate. How’ve you been, partner? Sorry I’ve been out of touch, busy as all heck. Jake, let me get right to the point. I need a low-altitude parachute. Not your standard chute, a small, chest-pack. I can’t guarantee you’ll get it back, pal, and I can’t even brief you on my mission. But I need one ASAP, and you’re the only guy I know that can pull off a midnight requisition. When you get this message, give me a call, same number as my service number. It’s in the system. Talk to you soon.”

  Bill received the small chest-parachute by hand-delivery early the next morning. He took it out of its harness and put it inside the lining of the suitcase for John. It was flat enough to pass a casual inspection.

  John hefted the suitcase and shook hands with Bill as he opened the door to 1937. “I’ll be back as fast as possible Bill, and this time it’ll all be back on track.”

  Bill walked him out the door.

  DATELINE: 1937 PLACE: NEW YORK CITY

  John went back a full three months earlier than he had gone the first time, and bought the tickets for the Reliance and Hindenburg with plenty of time to spare without raising any suspicions.

  He then came back to the club, had Bill reset the Time Portal and send him to the date that the Reliance sailed. This time John went into the docking area early enough to mingle with the hundreds of other passengers. He wanted to make sure he was in a long line and hoped the men checking the passports will be hard pressed to spend too much time on one passenger.

  Even so, the official checking his passport looked at him and asked. “So, Mr. Brand, may I ask, what is your reason for traveling aboard the Reliance?”

  John smiled and answered, “Yes, I’m with the American Helium Manufacturers Association of Amarillo, Texas. I’m going to see if there’s a way we can change the way the United States government keeps the helium from being used in European airships. My goal is to save lives by letting others use non-explosive helium.”

  The man closed the passport and smiled at John. “A noble effort on your part, Mr. Brand. And one that I’m sure the German government will give you any assistance you may need.” As John walked up the gangway, the man turn to another by his side and said, “A noble effort on his side to put money in his pocket, too, eh, Hans?” They both laughed as John entered the ship.

  Step one completed, he thought.

  After docking fourteen days later, he flew once again from Hamburg to Frankfurt on a Junkers Ju-52. Once again he daydreamed, Boy, what some of my colleagues wouldn’t give to fly in a tri-motored, corrugated tin aircraft.

  He took a room at a different hotel from the last time and went to the airfield only on the day of departure when the crowd of passengers had gathered. He craned his neck looking up at the behemoth that towered above them, as did everyone else. It’s huge! He thought, as he inched toward the opening in the belly of the ship that swayed slightly at the ropes that held her down. John Brand . . . you are one lucky guy.

  A smiling young man dressed in white with a black bowtie took his ticket. Behind him were two big men in civilian clothes. They looked John over, but just as fast as the ticket man took the next ticket, they shifted their gaze toward the next person.

  Step two completed, John thought, as he walked up the wide lower staircase and into the ship’s belly.

  At the top was ‘B’ Deck and then another set of stairs to ‘A’ deck, which had the rooms for the fifty air travelers. Another young man in a white jacket, black pants and white shirt with black bowtie greeted him and looked at his ticket.

  “Good day, sir. Room twenty,” he said in perfect English as he pointed toward John’s room.

  John went into room twenty and sat on the bed. This is exactly what I saw in old pictures, he thought as he looked around. The small fold-down bed attached to the wall looked comfortable, and there was a foldout washbasin and next to that, a foldout writing table. A small sign on the desk stated in many languages that the lavatories and showers were downstairs on ‘B’ deck. He shook
his head. Got to remember I’m here on a mission. Not a sightseeing trip, he thought.

  He left his room and went around the corner to the spacious promenade and public room. There were two of these rooms, one on each side of the ship, each lined with windows that were tilted down and open. Passengers looked down and waved at the well-wishers and workers below.

  John worked his way to a window and peered down. A large group of ground handlers dressed in white coveralls held onto ropes hanging down from the Hindenburg. A bell chimed and they marched out of the hangar guiding the huge craft as they gripped the ropes. When they reached the middle of the field, at a distance from the well-wishers, they dropped the ropes and started to run away. Most made it, but more than a few got soaking wet from water cascading down upon them from the airship.

  A short, rotund man standing next to John began to laugh at the spectacle below. Seeing John’s questioning look he started to explain in German.

  John shrugged his shoulders and said, “Nein, no German. American.”

  The man stopped and said. “Oh American. Good, good. What I laughed about were the new boys.” He pointed down. “You see every trip starts out with dropping many, many liters of water ballast. They do this to make the ship lighter and it rises. And every trip there is always new men who want to help bring the Hindenburg out of the hangar. But what the old hands don’t tell them is about the water that will come down. They say, ‘just stand there, we’ll be right back,’ and they run. Of course, the new boys get wet. They do this joke every trip.”

  He laughed again. “And, my friend, so do the Americans. As we are landing we have to maneuver close to the ground and maybe lighten the ship at times. Wait and see in Lakehurst. The American Navy men have their ‘new boys,’ too, and they get wet their first time.”

  Now John grinned. “But,” he asked, “if they dump the water here, where do they get the water to dump in America?”