The Narian mission succeeded, but the Eledorians immediately attacked an Israeli village in response. When they took the entire population hostage, the president asked to use the portal to save them. The rescued villagers left captivity through the high school. The circle of those who knew about the portal was growing. In the meantime, Ashley and Jane Barclay had discovered one another.
The students had returned from summer vacation with an abundance of energy and excitement about their schoolwork. Fritz had never seen anything like it and had to do extra work to match the kids' sudden enthusiasm. Ashley went to Washington to visit Major Barclay, who had been wounded in the missions to Naria and Israel. He was about to go back.
Fritz and Linda were not surprised by Ashley's interest in her, but they couldn't see it lasting. At dinner one night, they all talked about it. “She's different, Ash,” Linda said. “What would ever make you think she's your kind of woman? Especially the army part. She follows orders, plans battles, works with spies. She won't be able to tell you what she does or where she goes.”
Without waiting a breath, Ashley answered. “Opposites attract. She's smart, fun to talk to, Lin. She quoted T. S. Eliot, and before she crawled into the fight, she turned to me and quoted from Henry the Fifth. Who thinks like that? I think we'll have a lot of fun.”
Linda asked, “Amazing that she's healed enough to go to a party. Hey, do you have a decent suit to wear?”
“Oh, please. I am not an idiot. And you're still not a mom. I ordered a new suit. Custom. Please, guys. Off my back.”
Fritz tried not to look stunned. “No, you're not stupid. But you and Jane ought to figure out a good story about how you met. Sans portal. The truth won't set you free.”
THE OTHER EXCITEMENT of the new school year came from the sky; the weather cooperated with Fritz's travel itinerary and let him portal to the past. He and Ashley went to see the Battle of Gettysburg up close and to meet young Ernest Hemingway in Paris. He went alone to ask Robert E. Lee for advice about using the portal for a military purpose and then went again after the missions had been completed.
“BACK AGAIN, Mr. Russell.” Lee offered Fritz a cup of tea. “I've told Mary about our visits and how delightful they are. I think she believes that you really have come from the future. But tell me, were you able to make a decision?”
“I did. Thank you for your counsel, General. The mission succeeded. But given what I saw, I can't imagine how hard fighting a war must have been.”
Lee's sharp focus became a far-away stare. “I still see the blood and explosions. I hear the screams and cries. Sometimes sleep is only nightmares.” He sighed. “Providence guided my hand, Mr. Russell. And He found me unworthy.”
Chapter 3
“SO YOU WANTED to tell me something?” Ashley asked as they crossed the parking lot.
“We had visitors on Saturday, George and Lois.” Fritz pulled on his jacket. “Lois wondered if Sandy is leaving because she's pregnant.”
“She's not.”
“We know. George actually asked her. Can you imagine? She told him to calm down. But she's not happy she had to do it. She's also confused. When Linda and I told you that she seemed to be getting serious and that you should tell her if you weren't equally committed, we'd didn't mean that you should be abrupt and leave her with no explanation. She's wondering now if she did something to piss you off. And she was so upset when George talked to her that she gave him too much information. So he asked me why you had behaved so strangely. His words. He talked about firing you.”
“What!” Heads in the parking lot twisted toward them. “Does he think I'm gay and that he can fire me. That's nuts. He should know me better. Or at least Lois should. I am now prepared to say I'm gay just to give the old bigot a court case. He should also know, or Lois should, that he can't fire someone for being gay. Or for not having slept with his girlfriend. I wouldn't even have to take it to federal courts as a civil rights case. This is one of the states that says he can't, and…”
“Calm down, Ash. I told George that it wasn't any of his business and that you just have a history of being unable to get serious.”
“Do you remember the French teacher from when I first started here? Andrea Porter?”
“Yeah. Your first run-in with George.”
“Right. He was an idiot. He didn't oppose it on reasonable grounds, like pressure from a senior staff member on a newer one. Though it probably never occurred to him that a woman could be a senior anything. He fussed about school morale because she was so unhappy, which she would have been no matter whom she'd been dating. Yes, whom. No eyebrow raising. I'm an English teacher. But after that, I never dated another teacher from Riverboro. Until Sandy. Sandy was different. I could kill George right now.”
“I get it, Ash. It just would have made things easier on Sandy if you had attributed your cutting things off to your having a character flaw. But that's what I can't figure out. Not being kind about a breakup isn't like you. Not being kind about anything isn't like you. You're doing lots of things that aren't you. Like walking into combat when you couldn't see what you'd be facing. Like buying a custom-made suit. Like missing the first football game. Even like Sandy. When did you ever date the same woman for six months? Like getting your hair styled.” Fritz paused. “Ash, maybe the portal is changing you.”
Ashley looked like a dog that had stopped charging and turned home at a trot. “Last week, you said George was changing. Now me. Maybe you're right. We need to think about this some more.”
“Want to come for dinner?”
“Not tonight. I need sleep. I didn't get home until two.”
Chapter 4
LATER, Fritz told Linda about meeting Shakespeare with Sandy and how angry Ashley had been about the McAllisters' story. She said, “That's nice. Now stop using the portal.” As angry as Ashley had been, Linda burned more fiercely. Until he told her that Ashley had hired a cleaning service. She couldn't not laugh.
Chapter 5
THE PRESIDENT announced a Middle East summit to be held during the last week of October in Geneva. At the start of his first class on Thursday, a student asked Fritz's opinion about it, prompting a discussion of the history of crises in the Middle East. Fritz wondered how many times his classes over the years had done that.
THAT AFTERNOON, Linda called.
“Hi love, what's up?”
“Are you sitting?”
“What's wrong?”
“Everything's fine. Just that you got two letters from the president. I figured you'd want to hurry home and read them.”
“Open them.”
“Fritz, I think you should see them first. The envelopes are embossed. There's a really neat stamp I've never seen before. I can wait, but hurry.”
“I'm leaving now. I have a story.”
Ashley had just come into the hallway. As they walked out together, Ashley said he had something to tell him, but he couldn't talk then.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” asked Fritz.
“Have to stop at the tailor's by 3:30. I'll talk to you later.”
“Have fun. Sorry we won't see you in your regal best.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey, Ash. Supposed to be storms tomorrow. Want to go somewhere?”
Ashley swiveled. “Let's go to the Kentucky Derby.”
TWENTY MINUTES later, Fritz walked into the house. “Look at these, Fritz.” Holding one in each hand, she said, “It's a shame to open them. They're works of art.”
“Should we steam them open, do you think?”
“We could. It won't take long.”
“You know, that's silly. I can ask him for an envelope. But we should keep this one.” With a butter knife, he gently opened the first. The president's letter thanked him for his efforts on behalf of the country without actually mentioning what Fritz had done. Inside were two pieces of paper, a handwritten note of thanks, and a check from the Treasury of the United States.
“Holy mackerel.�
�� He sat down, stared at the check for a moment, and handed it to Linda.
“Fritz, he can't be serious. You've got to call him. What's in the other one?”
As Fritz opened the second envelope, his phone rang. “It's George,” he said. “Hi George, what's up?”
“Fritz, we just got a check from the president.” George fired the words like a machine gun. “You should see the envelope. And a personal note. Fritz, it's for fifty-thousand dollars. FIFTY. And he says it's not enough to repay us for what we've done for our country, and he's glad to have us on his team. Fritz, this is amazing!”
Fritz couldn't remember George ever having been so animated.
“Lois can go see the grandkids, George, and she doesn't have to wait until Christmas. You could do with a couple of days off yourself.”
“Fritz, that's a great idea.” He reloaded. “We could go this weekend. I'll talk to Lois. Talk to you later.” George hung up without even saying goodbye.
Fritz started to laugh and filled Linda in. She had a twinkle in her eyes even as tears started. She had the check in her hand.
“Don't cry, Lin. It's a paycheck.” He opened the second letter and extracted a second check. “I don't believe this.” He handed it to her.
“Oh, my God, Fritz, this isn't happening, is it? Is it real? This is like winning the lottery, twice.”
He walked around the table and hugged her. “There's the nursery, and there's the first deposit to his college fund.” He hugged her again.
“Fritz, that's not a nursery, that's a palace.” She sniffed. “That's a lot of money. But why did we get two checks?”
“I'm not sure. But he said each time he uses the portal, he'd pay a consulting fee. Remember? I never expected this, though.” He held one check in both hands. “So the portal has some benefit, after all. Not that I'd call all my trips dangerous. We need to talk about what to do with this. Really.” Then he read the handwritten note. “Two checks because we both helped. What a good man!”
“Do you want a drink, Lin?” Fritz asked. “Soda? I could do with something stronger.”
“Yes, but juice. Cranberry.”
“I don't know what to say. I have to call him,” he said as he filled their glasses. “He told me to watch the mail, but this is unreal.”
“Fritz, about something else—is Ash upset about Sandy's leaving?”
“I think so, at least a little. I know he likes her, and even though he left her, she's leaving geographically. He'll have to deal with it. But he's not so upset that he's not having a suit made to go to DC. He's at the tailor now.”
“Ha!”
“You know him, Lin. I think women scare him. Hard to believe.”
“Well, the chicken got off easy this time. Jane will be more of a challenge, I think. He'll have bigger choices to make with her.”
He checked the time. “I'm going to call the president.” Lily Evans, the president's secretary, answered and asked about Linda before putting him on hold. The president came on the line quickly.
“Hi, Fritz.”
“Mr. President, I'm calling to say thank you.”
“Ah, you got my letters. You're welcome.”
“Mr. President, do you know how much these checks are for?”
“What you did is worth every penny.”
“Mr. President, I put paperclips on paper and held a door.”
“Fritz, it's about what you made possible. You could have said no. You could have asked to be paid. You could have refused to take the risks. You helped prevent possible nuclear war and saved five-hundred innocent people. Plus our ambassador and his family last year. You never once put yourself or your family first. You did a lot more than hold a door.”
Fritz blushed as he listened. “Thank you, Mr. President. I still think I just opened a door. And it's a lot of money.”
“Aside from what it would have cost just to fly in, what we had to do was time critical. Believe me. We got off cheap.”
“I don't know what more to say, except thank you. This is so unexpected and so generous. Linda and I both thank you.”
“Fritz, I thank you, the country thanks you. And by the way, I just said all that without a teleprompter.” They both laughed. “I have to go. We're still trying to get this conference set up. The Narians are being difficult. Talk to you soon.”
Fritz told Linda what the president had said. She suggested donating part of the money to a charity. Before Fritz could answer, his phone chirped.
“Hi, Ash. What's up?”
“Good. You're home. I'm coming over.” He hung up.
“Ashley is on his way. I bet he got a check.” Seconds later, Ashley walked in the back door.
“I called from outside. Just to warn you. Look at this.”
“Sit down, Ashley,” Linda said. “You're overexcited. It'll pass in a minute. Fritz, get him a drink.” Ashley banged his knee as he plunked into a chair, his eyes on the check.
“So how's the suit?” Fritz asked.
“Huh? Oh, nice, I guess. I never paid that much before.” Ashley said, still staring at the check.
“What does it look like?” asked Linda.
“A lot of zeros.”
“Ashley, you are so backward,” she said. “What's it made of?”
“A hundred percent something. Did you see how much the check is for?”
“We saw. Wool?” Linda asked.
“Wool something. I can't believe it. It's almost what I make in a year.”
“How do you think it looks?” Linda asked.
“It looks like a lot of money.” He looked up. “Oh, the suit. He said it would look fine, but if I get there early enough, he can adjust it while I wait.”
Linda looked up at the ceiling. “Earth to Ashley. What does it look like? Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it's fine. I just can't get over this. I've never had this much money at one time.”
“Ash, come back.” said Fritz. “I spoke to the president a little while ago. He said you earned it. But that you shouldn't spend it all at once.”
Ashley's eyes refocused. “The suit looks pretty good. It's a charcoal pinstripe. But it cost twenty-six-hundred bucks. Can you believe it?”
“Custom, two days, wool worsted. That's pretty good, Ash,” Fritz said. “You might like the look. Did you get new shirts? Ties?”
“I have them.”
“Ashley Gilbert!” Linda said, jolting him. “Stop thinking like a Neanderthal. You live in the twenty-first century. You need at least two new shirts, a white and a powder blue. Two ties. Did they have them?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good. Then buy at least two ties. One to go with the white shirt and one for the blue. Is there someone who can help you choose?”
“Yeah.”
“Ashley, listen carefully. I don't want to sound like your mother, but ask Jane which ones go best with the shirts and the suit. Okay, goofball? You want to look great, not like some slacker Jane found at the dump. How you look reflects on her. Got it?”
“Got it.” She guessed he just might have.
Chapter 6
FRITZ WAS DISAPPOINTED to awaken to a clear sky. At lunchtime, he saw Sandy and Ashley talking in her classroom. Damp tracks marked her cheeks. When Ashley missed lunch duty, Fritz bought him a sandwich and a bottle of juice.
“Ash, are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I just had a talk with Sandy. A little emotional.”
“I brought you some lunch.”
“Thanks. I'll talk to you later. Are you going to the football game?”
“Depends on Linda. If she's up to it, we'll be there. If not, I don't know if I'll come alone. Later.” As he returned to his classroom, Sandy was walking down the hall toward him.
“Hi, Fritz. It's my last day. Give my best to Linda, will you? And, well, I just talked to Ash.” She sighed. “I just have to get through the rest of the day. Thanks for the excitement, Fritz. And thanks for Shakespeare.”
>
“I hope the new school is as terrific as we are. Without a portal to the past, of course. For that, you'll have to visit.” As he hugged her to say goodbye, catcalls and wolf whistles buzzed the hall from students headed to their lockers. Fritz finished the day by playing history baseball with his last two classes.
His ninth graders had shown up in especially rambunctious form. To quiet them, he gave them enough easy questions to keep the game moving and enough hard ones to keep the score low. Susan Leslie asked if he had ever considered having a schoolwide history baseball tournament.
“Susan, that's a wonderful idea.”
“Thanks, Mr. R,” she said. “Everyone knows about your baseball games. I think lots of kids would want to play.”
“Susan's right, Mr. Russell,” said John Boardman. “Maybe you could have prizes.”
“Like scholarships,” said Emma Garland.
“You know what,” Fritz said. “I'll speak to Mr. McAllister. If he likes the idea, you can plan it.”
With that, rambunctiousness returned. Fritz scanned the class. This is the portal at work. Suggestions came from all over. Fritz asked, “Is anyone writing all these ideas down?”
“I am, Mr. Russell,” Susan said.
“Can ninth graders play too?” asked Jay Bennett.
“What do you think?”
“We might not know as much as the older kids,” Susan said, “but why not? Juniors get to play even though the seniors will know more stuff.”
“Ok, you've gotten yourself a tournament to design. Before I go to Mr. McAllister, give me a plan, including rules. Can you do it in a week?”
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