“He’s very into languages.”
“He’s very into you,” I said as I picked up my mug of hot chocolate. I took a sip and then looked at her over the top of the cup.
“It’s hard to take your disapproval seriously when you have whipped cream on the tip of your nose,” Jodie said.
I wiped off the cream.
“Better?” I said.
“A little, but I still don’t understand your disapproval.”
“Well. It isn’t disapproval so much. It’s concern.”
“I’m listening.” She took a drink of her water.
As casual as she seemed, I knew she was paying attention. I took advantage of the moment. “You and Mutt broke up only a couple of weeks ago, and I’m not really sure you broke up all the way.”
“Oh, we broke up all the way. No worries there,” Jodie said bitterly.
“Well, you haven’t told me what happened. That’s weird. You tell me everything.”
“I do not tell you everything. You don’t tell me everything either.”
“Actually, I do,” I said, a tinge of hurt in my voice. “What won’t you tell me?”
Jodie cleared her throat. “I don’t want to tell you the details of the breakup yet, Clare, just like you didn’t want to tell me the details of your breakup with Creighton soon after that happened. My breakup with Mutt is a sore spot that needs to fester a bit before I start picking at it and then finally letting it heal. That is how wounds work. They go through stages. Remember how you were with Creighton?”
“I do, but he’s your brother. I was afraid . . . of your loyalty to him,” I said.
Jodie laughed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Not once since we were sixteen have I put my brother before you. I knew what he was when you started dating him. I wasn’t surprised at all when he cheated on you. You needed time too.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have told you.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I just want you to understand that I’m in no state to talk about my breakup with Mutt yet, even with you. But when I’m ready, you’ll be the only one I’ll want to talk to. I promise.”
“Okay, but . . .”
“Right, it’s too soon to start dating someone else. I’ve never had many dating options, and another one so soon after a pretty serious relationship is weird for me, but I like Adal. That’s it—like. He likes me. We like each other and want to get to know each other. He invited me to take Latin with him. It’s the weirdest thing anyone has ever asked me to do. I said yes, but I’m not going to fall in love so quickly this time. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said, but then paused a beat. “You do know he has plans to go back to Germany, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
I paused again. “And, Jodie, I’m sorry for what happened with you and Mutt, whatever it was.”
“It’s okay. Really okay.” She forced a sad smile.
“Mutt and Adal. You sure pick guys with strange names,” I said with a grin.
“I know. Elmo’s probably next.” She laughed.
A loud rumble pulled our attention out toward The Rescued Word.
“Expecting anyone?” Jodie asked as a white panel truck came to a noisy stop and a young guy jumped out of the driver’s side. He stood in front of the shop and took turns inspecting a clipboard he held and the front of the darkened windows.
“I’m not. I should check on Chester.”
We got the bill taken care of quickly, and by the time we were across the street, Chester was in front of the store with what appeared to be a delivery guy. Chester wore a red silk robe that I’d never seen before, and held a sleepy-eyed Baskerville, our cat (well, the entire family’s probably, but mostly his), in his arms. They were both in decidedly sour moods.
“What’s up?” I said as we approached.
“This young man says we are expecting the items in his truck. I have explained to him that we are not, no matter what they are.”
“What’s in there?” I asked.
“Typewriters, I think,” the delivery guy said. He was young and his face looked flustered and unsure in the glow from the old-fashioned streetlight.
“Little late for a delivery, don’t you think?” Jodie said. I saw her hand go to the spot where her gun would be holstered if she was in uniform.
The kid shrugged. “Got caught in some snow up around Evanston. Sorry I’m late, but once I got here, I wasn’t sure what to do except see if I could get these delivered. I’d like to get back on the road and back to Evanston tonight. It’s gonna storm out this way tomorrow, and I came all the way from Nebraska.”
“Where in Nebraska?” Jodie asked as she inspected the back license plate.
“Lincoln.”
“That’s a long way to bring some typewriters,” Jodie said.
“Yeah, I was supposed to meet Lloyd here this afternoon. I’ve been calling him for hours, leaving messages that I’d be late. He was here today, right?”
Chester and I looked at each other.
“No one named Lloyd was here today as far as we remember,” I said.
“Oh man, I was worried when I couldn’t get ahold of him. I’m sure he’ll call me back, but he told me specifically to meet him here this afternoon. He’ll call me when he can. Must have gotten busy or something. He said there was a small reunion too, some meetings, I think. Maybe you can talk to him tomorrow?”
“I can’t even think of someone I know named Lloyd,” Chester said.
“Yeah, he said he knew you guys. Lloyd Gavin?” the young man said.
“Lloyd Gavin?” Jodie and I said together.
“We went to high school with him,” Jodie said to me as I nodded.
“Wait a second,” Chester said. “A gentleman called last week and asked for you, Clare. He wouldn’t give me his name, but he said you and he knew each other when you were kids. I said you weren’t in. He said he had some typewriters we should look at, but I told him we weren’t interested. He mentioned he was coming out for some meetings and would stop by. I reiterated that we didn’t want to buy any typewriters either for consignment or otherwise. He laughed. I remember being distinctly put off by his attitude. I told him to travel safely and that I had to go. Maybe that was him.”
“That sounds like him,” the kid said. “But they’re not for sale. They’re gifts.”
“He was one of the really smart kids in school,” Jodie said. “We always thought he’d go far, but Lincoln, Nebraska, wouldn’t have been a destination I would have predicted.”
“He did go far. He’s a very successful businessman in Lincoln,” the kid said.
“What’s his business?” Jodie asked.
“Computer hardware and software development.”
“Lloyd Gavin,” I muttered, remembering his sweet and shy personality more than I remembered his smarts. He’d asked me to the junior high dance but had broken out in hives right before the event. His dad had come by my house to apologize for his son’s nerves. I’d been heartbroken about missing all the fun, but I went back to Lloyd’s house and we watched movies. He and I became friends after that. In fact, he’d been my best friend until Jodie came into my life at sixteen.
When Jodie and I became close, I’d tried to include Lloyd in our friendship, but he told me he could handle being friends with only one person at a time, that it was all just too much for him to hang out in a group. He told me it would be better for me to stick with Jodie than with him.
I’d thought that was pretty weird then and had no idea how to handle what at the time had seemed like an ultimatum, but now, years and life experience later, I knew that Lloyd was an introvert, perhaps as much of an introvert as someone could be—painfully shy. Somehow I’d managed to break into his world, and the ultimatum was actually an unusually mature kindness sen
t my way.
It was probably the kiss on his cheek I gave him when I went back to his house with his dad the night of the dance that cemented our friendship. I remembered my immature mind thinking that it was supposed to be my first date, so I deserved a kiss even if I was the only one to do it.
“Clare?” Jodie said. “You with us?”
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’m right here. I knew Lloyd in high school and we were pretty good friends when we were younger, but I don’t understand what’s going on with some typewriters that he wanted to give us.”
“How about you open the back?” Jodie said to the delivery boy.
“Will do. Name’s Dillon, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Dillon,” Jodie said, keeping a suspicious slant to her eyes. She placed herself in between me, Chester, Baskerville, and the back of the truck. No such thing as downtime for Jodie.
A few seconds later, Dillon swung open the back door and then turned on his phone’s flashlight application.
“There ya go. They look like a mix between sewing machines and typewriters. Mr. Gavin said you’d know what they are, and he wanted you to have them. Made me promise not to wreck the truck.”
We stepped closer and looked inside. Dillon had been correct; the three machines inside did look like a sewing machine/typewriter hybrid.
“Oh my,” Chester said.
In tandem he and I adjusted our glasses.
“Hoovens,” Chester said with a breathy sigh. Baskerville, not interested in the items in the truck, jumped out of his arms and trotted back to the shop’s stoop, sitting and wrapping his tail around himself. His patience wouldn’t last long, but he’d sensed that Chester and I might need a moment.
“That something good?” Jodie said.
“Yes,” I said. “Very good. Very rare.”
“Awesome,” Jodie said. “All righty, then. Can we get these unloaded so Dillon can hit the road? I can call for help.”
“Jodie, we can’t just take these,” I said. “They’re too valuable.”
“Let’s see if we can get ahold of Lloyd. What’s his number? Do you know where he was staying?” Jodie asked Dillon.
“Sure, but I’ve been trying to call him since last night. No answer.”
“Like you said, maybe he’s just been busy. Tell me the hotel too. We’ll find him,” Jodie said.
“I hope so,” Dillon said. “He sure seems to be missing in action.”
Jodie and I both froze for a moment before we shared a look.
“No, it couldn’t be,” I said.
“That would be a wild coincidence,” she said.
“What?” Chester said.
I sent him a frown. I didn’t want to say in front of Dillon what Jodie and I were thinking, but Chester would pick up on our thoughts in a second.
He did.
“Oooh,” he said. “Well, that would be terrible.”
“What’s going on?” Dillon said.
“Come on, kid. Let’s find a place for you and your truck to stay tonight,” Jodie said. “Lock ’er up.”
“Why? Why can’t I just leave them and head back toward Evanston? I need to get home.”
“We gotta find Lloyd before you can go. It’s best that way,” Jodie said.
Dillon scratched his head and shrugged, because he was too young to know what else to do. “Okay.”
Chester and I did take a moment to jump inside the back of the truck and take a closer look at the Hoovens. More than anything we were shocked that we were even allowed to look at the rare old machines. They’d been secured with ropes and pulleys, so they weren’t going anywhere easily. As much as we really wanted to inspect them, we didn’t want to touch what was considered the first automatic typewriter machine; some even called them the first computers. Their mishmash of features—an old Underwood No. 5, a sewing machine table, and the player-piano-punched paper feed—were all antique elements that brought forth images of mad scientists and overflowing beakers, at least to our typewriter-driven minds. Owning them wasn’t something either of us would ever be able to comprehend.
They were extraordinary, but I couldn’t imagine they would ever be ours. They were just too valuable, probably worth between five and ten thousand dollars each, though I’d have to research to know for sure. Their place in history and their rarity made them museum pieces, not things that should be in our little shop in Star City, Utah. I was glad they weren’t going inside The Rescued Word that night, but I was a little worried about their being in the open police station parking lot.
“I can take them down to Salt Lake to a secure facility if you think I should,” Jodie said.
“Tonight?” It was already after eight.
“I could if you think it’s best.”
“You have officers on duty at the station all night, right?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Just have them check on the truck throughout the night. Unless we were being spied on, we’re the only ones who know about them. Besides, I’m probably overreacting; chances are that very few people know what they really are.”
“Lloyd must know,” Jodie said.
“Maybe,” I said.
“I’ll find him and we’ll see.”
She and I got Dillon set up at the same hotel our visiting author was staying at. It was conveniently located near the police station. I didn’t knock on Nathan’s door as I walked out of the hotel with Jodie, but I angled toward it and heard what I thought was the click-clack of typewriter keys. He hadn’t mentioned that he wrote on a typewriter, but I’d ask him about it.
Jodie dropped me off at my house, affectionately named Little Blue, and left me with thought-provoking parting words: “Hope Lloyd still has both feet.”
It was just her way.
3
“Hoovens. I’ve never heard of them,” Seth said before he dug his fork into some pancakes. “Well, I might have heard of Hooven sewing machines, but not typewriters.”
He’d been in southern Utah helping determine the safety of hiking through a specific slot canyon after a small earthquake had registered in the area the previous week. He’d gotten back late last night, so he went back to his apartment. We met for our morning breakfast date at a new place in town, the Pancake Joint. It was an immediate hit, popular with locals and tourists, and it was difficult to get a table, even early on a Wednesday morning. Fortunately, we’d had to wait only a few minutes before being seated.
“Yes, Hooven sewing machines. Their typewriters aren’t that well known, but they were revolutionary, kind of the first computer.”
“Really?”
“Yes. They were electric, having been put together with a manual and a modified Underwood No. 5, and—here’s the original Hooven connection—a sewing machine stand. They used the same idea that player pianos used, the paper with the dots in them being sent through a feed and over a roll. You could print a bunch of the same thing. The first form letters, but not mimeographed. Each copy an original, so to speak.”
“Really? When were they all the rage?”
“The early nineteen hundreds, but maybe not all the rage. They were expensive, so were only available to a select few.”
“I had no idea.”
“Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“The remaining Hoovens are rare, hard to find, and each one can bring between five and ten thousand dollars. They belong in a museum.”
“And Lloyd wants to give you three?”
“That’s what Dillon says, but we need to talk to Lloyd, and as of this morning Jodie still hasn’t.”
“So, you think he might be the one missing a foot?”
“Not really, but it’s all a strange set of circumstances.”
“I’d say.”
“How was your trip?” I said.
“Great. Busy,
but great. I’m thoroughly enjoying living and working in Utah,” he said with a smile.
“That’s good to hear.”
My relationship with Seth had gone the opposite direction of Mutt and Jodie’s. My geologist and I were rock-solid, rocking and rolling, and completely digging each other. We worked on coming up with new puns all the time, but there were really only so many.
“I brought you something,” Seth said as he put down his fork and reached into his pocket.
Seth frequently brought things to me from different parts of Utah. The items were mostly little things like rocks or sand—he’d brought me a small glass container full of sand from the Coral Pink Sand Dunes once. The sand was more orange than pink, but I liked the way he’d chosen to share his intrastate travels—with little souvenir-type items that I now kept in a glass bowl on my coffee table.
“Oh, it’s a . . . I can’t remember the name. I know it’s not a scarab, but that’s what it reminds me of,” I said as I took the small fossil.
“Trilobite.”
“That’s right. The sea creatures, back when Utah was covered by a sea.” I smiled. “From how long ago?”
“Cambrian Period, five hundred seventy to five hundred million years ago.”
“How could I have forgotten?”
“No need to remember; I’m here to help regarding all things old and geological. I got it on the way home. I had to swing around to House Range and drop off some papers to a colleague. It made for a long trip.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re back. Thank you. I love it. I really do. Let’s name him.”
“Him? You sure?”
“Can I be sure?”
“I don’t think so, but that’s for someone else’s PhD.”
“Maple,” I said as I glanced at the bottle of syrup on the edge of the table.
“That’ll work.”
I put the fossil in my bag just as my phone started to ring and vibrate from inside the outer pocket.
“Jodie?” I said as I answered.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Pancakes with Seth.”
“Come over to the station when you’re done, as quickly as possible please,” she said.
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