All in a dither, George said, “Fritz, you're right.” I was 'Fritz' again. “I have a lot to do. Will you help me?”
“Of course. We'll all help. But don't start telling anyone yet.” Ashley's smirk let me know he got it.
George turned to Ashley. “Sure, George, you can count on me.”
“I think we need to go and think about what just happened. George, it's the weekend. Take a break, and as hard as it will be, I don't think you should tell Lois.”
“She won't like that much,” said George. George and Lois had been married for over thirty years, and she always knew when George had something on his mind.
Ashley stood, and the uncomfortable chair's scraping against the floor prompted George to stand. “This has been a very confusing afternoon,” said George. “Do you really think he'll come?”
I said, “I think he feels a strange connection to us.” I know I thought so. “I think he'll want to come.”
Looking around as he left, he said, “Have a nice weekend.”
“You too,” we said.
As the door shut, Ashley started to ask, but I cut him off. “Let's get out of here.” I grabbed my jacket and briefcase, made sure the books were there, took the keys out of the desk lock, and flipped off the light as we left. We hustled out and headed for Ashley's car, an almost new Mustang convertible. The top was up and puddled. Sandy was right behind.
“Sandy, Ash is coming for dinner, and we need to talk about this. Want to join us?”
“This is too weird, Fritz. Yeah, I'll go home and change and be right over. Do you want me to bring something?”
“Just yourself. I think we're set. You know where I live.”
As Sandy got in her car, a girl's voice traveled across the lot. “Mr. Russell.” Jennifer Bennett, carrying her book bag, was coming toward me. Her face was smudged.
“What's the matter, Jen?”
She related what had happened when school ended. She told me that a group of kids were talking about what had happened in class, and she said she thought it was real. They started making fun of her, calling her names, and she started to tear up again.
I suspected there might be more. I glanced at Ashley and asked her, “Are you waiting for your ride home?”
She said, “I live just a few blocks away. I walk.”
“I'd offer you a ride, but you know, school insurance rules. How about I walk with you for a bit? Give Mr. Gilbert your book bag.”
“That's okay, Mr. R. It's not far.”
“It's not a problem, Jen.”
We started walking past newly manicured carpets and the copycat garden colorings of the copycat castles where the weekend warriors would soon appear. Spring in the 'burbs.
“Jen, can you keep a secret?”
“Uh huh.”
“Good. I'm going to tell you the answer to the question I asked the class after school.” As we walked, I invented the story of my Hollywood friend—a spontaneous assortment of lies, fabrications, tall tales, and untruths with each step. I try never to lie to my students. It's hard to backtrack, and I've worked hard over the years to build trust with my kids. Each year, that relationship has improved. And I didn't like adding tarnish. “That's why everyone from third period on was talking about the weird stuff in our class. Your class had a different scene programmed. I didn't think he would pick such a disturbing event. I'll have to tell him he needs to do his own censoring. That was pretty X-rated to me. What do you think?”
She halted, absorbing, processing, disbelieving. After a second, frowning, she asked, “That wasn't real?” I shook my head no. “Mr. R, you should have warned us. That was very upsetting,” almost scolding me. “All those dead bodies, people jumping out of the building. We could hear them hit the ground. And the smoke.”
Ashley kept up with us, careful not to splash the puddles. He leaned toward the window, and I told him, “Jen's class witnessed the Triangle Fire.” I hadn't had a chance to tell him.
“Jeez, you're kidding.” We reached Jennifer's house, and I opened the car door. Ashley slid her book bag over. She hoisted it to her shoulder, questions growing like the spring flowers that were surrounding us, almost ready to burst, but said nothing.
I asked, “Got a piece of paper?” She took out a notebook. “Call me if you want to discuss this some more. But don't give my number out,” I said lightly. I climbed into the car. “Have a nice weekend, Jen. Really.”
As I started to close the door, she said, “Thanks, Mr. R.”
“No problem. See you on Monday.” Ashley stepped on the gas.
“Now will you tell me what the hell is going on?” I could only laugh. “What's so funny?”
“You can't imagine how glad I am to be able to talk sanely about this. Would you believe I don't have a clue what happened? The story about my Hollywood friend, pure BS.”
“I know,” said Ashley, “but how did you get to the White House?”
“I don't know. Look Ash, let's get to my house. I want Linda to hear this too. We need to figure this out.”
* * *
Returning to his office, the national security adviser passed Tom Andrews headed for the president's office. “Mr. Andrews, a moment. You went with him. Where did you go?”
“A high school in New Jersey, sir. Riverboro. They are what they say, Mr. Koppler. Mr. Russell is a teacher, and the other guy is the principal.”
“You might think so, but I'm not convinced. The president doesn't seem to realize how exposed he's left us all.” Koppler eyed the agent. “Keep me informed.” Tom Andrews sighed as Koppler walked away.
Chapter Eight
AS WE STRODE up the sidewalk under an arch of new leaves, the garden flowers greeted us. I hadn't really noticed when I'd left home that morning, but the tulips had joined my daffodils in a parade of bright colors. I had planted almost two hundred bulbs in the fall, and the flowers were now waving in red, yellow, white, and purple. There were some multi-colored ones, yellow and purple, and a few that looked like candy canes. Ash said, “When winter comes, can spring be far behind?” The flowers were a perfect foreground to my white house. I reached into my pocket for my keys, but a soft metallic ping on the walkway made me stop. My desk key. “I forgot to lock my desk.”
“Anything worth stealing?”
“Probably, but only I would steal it.”
I dropped the key back in my pocket as we climbed the steps. Linda was there, waiting.
“Hi, honey, I'm home,” I said, smiling as I kissed her.
“Fritz, what happened to your face? What's going on? George McAllister has called twice in the last twenty minutes. He sounded upset.”
“Lots to tell you. It's been a strange day. Garden looks great.”
She looked from me to Ashley, who nodded in agreement. “Well?” she questioned.
“Hey, let me get my coat off, okay?” I pleaded.
“You're not wearing a coat!”
“I was speaking of my figurative coat.” I hung the jacket in the hall closet. “Did George want me to call him?”
“No, he said he'll call back.”
Ashley, sniffing, said, “Something smells tasty.”
“Lasagna,” she said, anticipating his next question.
“Oh, goody!” said Ashley. Linda's lasagna had won a cooking contest, and Ashley loves it. So do I.
“Linda, I have a lot to tell you, and Ash hasn't heard the whole story yet. Sandy Horton is coming, too. She was talking to Ash, so I invited her.” Ashley and I sat at the kitchen table.
Linda frowned at me, her eyebrows lowered and her head cocked. She said, “You can tell it again when she gets here. What's happened? Want something to drink, Ash?”
“Diet soda.”
“Like you need it,” I said, as she opened the bottle. “Lin, when we settle down, I'll tell you the whole thing.”
“Do you want a soda?” she asked me.
“No, thanks.” I walked to the liquor cabinet and took out a bottle.
&nb
sp; “Fritz, it's not even five o'clock.”
“It's five o'clock somewhere. It'll take some the ache away.” I removed my watch and changed the time. “See, five o'clock. At least in my little world.” I poured and got a couple of ice cubes. “OK, let's talk.”
“Sandy should be here any minute.” Ashley said. With that, there was a knock.
“Sorry it took so long, Fritz.” Sandy handed me a paper bag. “I bought wine for dinner. Hi, Linda. Hi, Ash.”
After Sandy settled in, I started.
“At the start of third period, I opened the door to my room, and we walked into the woods. And met Robert E. Lee.”
“Oh come on,” Linda said, looking at Ash, who shrugged. “You walked through the door and into the woods?”
“Yeah, but I could still see a door outlined on the scenery. It was just there, a rectangular outline. The doorway has to be the entrance to a portal. Let me keep going.” I related the conversation and the class questions and how the fourth-period class joined us. I told them everything I could recall. “When the period ended, we could hear the bell ring. The classroom door was always visible, right there in the forest. I don't know if that scene traveled to now or if we went back in time. I wonder if General Lee told anyone else.”
“What happened next?” asked Linda.
“Well, after class ended, we walked back through the door and back into the hall. Ash, that's when I told you dinner would be interesting. Anyway, I walked back into my classroom, but it wasn't there. I had just enough time to see a group of men and a large Ford sign over a building that looked like a factory. Before I had time to react, I got hit in the face. I fell backwards into the hallway.”
“You told me you tripped. And the cut was from hitting something.”
“We were surrounded by kids, Ash.” I brought my briefcase to the table, and took out the books. “After lunch, I spotted this book under some papers.” I flipped to the marked page. “This picture was taken in 1937. The photographer said later that a man appeared and disappeared before he could take more pictures of him. Other onlookers described a similar sighting. Here. Read the caption.” I took off a shoe and held it next to the book. “Look at these. I think that's me.”
“Fritz, that's nuts,” Linda said. “That picture is almost eighty years old. How could that be you today, when it's been in that book since it was published?”
“That's just one thing we need to talk about.”
“And if that really happened, it's dangerous,” she said. “Not something you should be fooling around with. Have you looked in a mirror?”
I told her I hadn't, but I wanted to finish the story. I'd gotten patched up, I said, and went back to class, and everything about the room was normal. “Ash, that's when you told me the kids were talking.”
Ashley said, “And they were telling it pretty much like you just did. At least about meeting Lee. Other teachers know the story now too. You're gonna have some serious 'splaining' to do.”
I knew he was right, but what could I say? I couldn't get my brain around what had happened. I told them that the only things I could do were guess or lie, and lying had filled my day. “If I told them what really happened…”
My phone rang. “It's George,” I said, looking at the caller ID. “Hi, George. What's up?”
“Fritz, this is getting serious.” His sentences came like rockets. “I've had calls from six teachers and some parents in the past half hour. I don't know what to tell them.”
“What did you say, George?”
“I said I was aware of the situation, and that I would investigate further. Fritz, if they start calling the superintendent, this could get out of hand.”
“Hmm. George, hold on a second,” holding my phone against my shirt. I looked at Linda. She recognized the look and told me to invite them over. Come for dinner, I told him. That way Lois would know everything, and he could avoid calls.
“Good idea. Thanks. What time?”
“How about six?” Linda had raised six fingers.
“I'll bring some wine. See you then.”
I turned off my phone. “They can leave messages. Now where was I?”
Looking at my watch, I said, “It's 5:15. Should we wait until George gets here? Do you want some help setting up, Lin?”
She said, “All I have to do is get out a couple more plates and glasses. Let's talk about what's important. I want to know now. You can tell it again, but let's get the story so we can think about what to do before George and Lois arrive. Two heads are better than one,” looking at Ashley, his chin in his hand, listening, “and in this case, four heads.”
Ashley said, “Four heads. Sounds like a real monster.” He made a face and took a long, noisy breath. The monster said, “Dinner smells really good, Lin.”
“Monster is right,” I said. “When seventh period started, I opened the door.” I hesitated and looked at my hand. I told them what had happened, including my story about a friend in Hollywood. “Actually that was pretty good, given short notice, don't you think? I wish that were true.”
Ashley took over. “That's when you came to my classroom and said you needed to go to the office.”
Now impatient, Linda asked, “And?” Her arms crossed, she was waiting for the punch line.
“So I went to the office and George stopped me, you know how he is, 'we have a problem, what's going on? Blah, blah, blah.' I told him to think about what he had heard, did it make any sense? Then, and here's the mistake, or maybe it wasn't a mistake, I told him he could see for himself. We went to the classroom.” I paused again and wiggled my fingers.
Linda asked, “What's wrong with your hand?”
“Nothing. But I got a shock, you know, static, and when I opened the door, we were somewhere else. That might be part of this.” I looked at my hand again. “Anyway, George and I walked into the Oval Office, met the president, got checked out by a secret service agent, and I told the president and George what happened today. Then he came back through with me and George into the school. That's when Ash and Sandy turned up.”
Ashley picked up the story. He said he and Sandy had been waiting for me in his classroom, and when they heard talking in the hallway, they went out and saw my door close. He looked in the window and felt like his eyes were popping from his head. “Talk about weird. Lin, I was looking at the president. We went in, Fritz introduced us. All of us took a tour of the school. The president shot a couple of baskets in the gym and signed some autographs. Then we reconnected him to the White House.”
My turn again. “When he went back and the door closed, the Oval Office disappeared. So here we are now, and I have no idea how any of this happened.”
“Good. So now we have the outline, and all we need to do is figure out how to stop it from happening again.” Linda answered. She left the kitchen, and checked the dining room. “We have a few minutes until George and Lois get here, so let's stop and set the table. We can think about this as we go.”
“Dining room?” I asked Linda.
“Of course,” she said as she opened the oven.
The dining room is the only formal room in the house. Linda's grandmother had wanted her to have the furniture. A mahogany table, oval with three leaves, and matching buffet, breakfront, and server. Hand carved legs and drawers. Antique knobs and handles. Leather-covered chairs with clawed feet and extra padding, which I really like. Twelve people can sit at the table and keep their elbows unscathed. I took out the special silverware and handed it to Ashley. Linda had taught him to set a table long after his mother had given up trying. Ashley and I had visited his parents in Connecticut once, before Linda and I got married. His mother kept referring to him as “the uncivilized one.” He laughed, a sound that has become as familiar to me as the changing seasons.
I grabbed the crystal glasses and followed him to the table. Sandy helped Ash.
“Do you think that the static has anything to do with the lightning?” Ashley asked, now that he knew what had happ
ened.
“No talking without me,” Linda called from the kitchen. “No fair.”
“Okay, hon.” I knew that she wanted to know and, more important, that she could help put the pieces in place. She's got a great analytic mind.
The doorbell rang. George was there with Lois, who asked “So what trouble are you causing today?” She smiled. “C'mon in,” I said, smiling back.
Linda and Ashley came to the door, Sandy right behind. When Lois saw Ashley, she said, “So both the troublemakers are at it, I see! Hello, Sandy, Linda.”
“Nice to see you too, Lois,” Ashley replied. Sandy waved.
Lois is in her late 50s. Some think her pushy. To those who don't know her, she is an obnoxious, abrasive annoyance attached to the school principal. But we know her well as a smart, reasonable, and reasoning woman whose opinion and insight would be valuable. She's also an awful tease. Although her husband often doesn't, she can be counted on to “get it”. Now everyone had arrived. “Lovely flowers, Linda,” Lois said, pointing to the vase of red tulips and yellow daffodils at the center of the table.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked.
George said, “Oops, I left the wine in the car,” and got up to retrieve it.
While he was out, Lois said, “George is upset. He's received about a dozen calls since he got home, and he won't tell me anything more than there was a problem at school, and he's handling it. And now here we are. So you two are up to something.”
“Lois, when you leave tonight, you'll know everything.” I said. “We haven't had time to consider this puzzle, and we need to solve it.”
George returned with a merlot and a chardonnay, red and white, and put them on the table. Ashley reached for them. “May I take a look?” George handed him the bottles. “Nice. Have you had these before?”
“Yes. I think you'll enjoy them. Since I didn't ask what we were having, I brought both.” Ashley liked wine; he had taken a wine tasting class and then gone to Europe a couple of summers ago on a tasting tour.
I said, “I think they'll be gone before too long.”
Quantum Touch (Book 1): Storm Portal Page 7