Book 11

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Book 11 Page 19

by Robert P McAuley


  “Yep! That would do it, Matt. Thanks again.”

  As the grandfather clock struck six forty-five, Bill stood in front of his full-length mirror. He straightened the dark gray ascot he wore rather than a tie or cravat. The ascot demanded that he wear his well-starched collar open as well as the top two buttons of his white shirt. “Very artsy, Mister Scott, very artsy indeed,” he said to himself. He wore a light gray, six-button vest and his gray pants sported thin black pinstripes. His black, three-button jacket had a white carnation in its lapel and his button-down black shoes finished his outfit. He decided to leave his tall black opera hat, gray opera gloves and silver-handled walking stick behind.

  He knew that dinner would be served at eight sharp and he also knew that many of the club members would be in the great room already and, as he wanted to talk with Rocko and John, he decided to come down earlier than usual.

  Bill left his quarters and walked down the deep brown, carpeted hallway to the mahogany curved staircase. He grinned as he got a flashback of Nellie sliding down the banister followed by himself. The chatter of people enjoying themselves emanated from the open doorway of the great room and drifted up the stairs. Once down the stairs, he took a newspaper from the stack on the small table that stood next to the open doorway. Inside, the gaslights flickered and joined the light from the fireplace in creating shadows on the light blue and white-flocked wallpapered walls while the light of the candles in the two large overhead chandeliers bounced softly off the highly polished wooden floors. As far as the members of The 1800 Club were concerned, they were truly back in 1870, as their newspapers said they were.

  He stepped into the room and almost immediately the talking stopped as men nodded and smiled and women curtsied. Bill smiled back and gestured that they should carry on. He noticed that the fireplace was lit, but kept low as the night had just a hint of a chill in it and as usual, when it was lit, it attracted club members to stand by it as they sipped wine and talked amongst themselves.

  “Sir, some wine?” said Matt as he seemed to appear out of nowhere carrying a silver tray with cigars, wine and wine glasses on it.

  “Ah, yes, thank you, Matt,” Bill said as he took a glass of red wine and a Cuban which Matt lit for him.

  “Sir, Misters Brand and Perna are in the far right corner.”

  “Thanks, Matt,” said Bill as he headed that way.

  Bill was halfway there when he spotted a new club member and he stopped, put out his hand and said, “Mister McDonough, allow me to welcome you into the 1800 Club. I’m President Scott.”

  “Mister president,” he said as he shook hands with Bill, “this is an honor, indeed.” His dark eyes were gleaming as he turned the ends of his thick black mustache up and pushed back his, already slicked down, dark hair.

  Bill noted that he was dressed as a typical businessman of the 1800s with a three-piece brown suit, brown shoes and a dark brown cravat at the neck of his white shirt.

  “I do hope that you enjoy tonight’s dinner and perhaps you will sit next to me at the next dinner as I have already asked a few of our fellow club members to join me this evening.”

  “I look forward to that, Mister President and perhaps I can tell you of my invention?”

  Bill smiled and knowing that McDonough’s ancestor from the 1800s had made the invention said, “Do you mean the ‘Manur Pouch’.”

  Seeing the look of surprise on the man’s face, Bill grinned as he went on, “I try to read everything I can about the ingenious members of the 1800 Club. I know of your invention to catch horse waste before it falls to the streets of this fine city and I do believe that every horse owner will be made to purchase one to strap on their horse.”

  McDonough did a slight bow at the waist and said, “Sir, I look forward to the next dinner.”

  Bill finished his walk across the large room and stepped up behind the two club members who had become his closest friends.

  “Greetings, guys,” he said.

  “Hey, Bill,” said John before he put his hand over his mouth and said, “Ah, I mean, Mister President.”

  Seeing that nobody was close enough to hear them, Bill said, “How have you two guys been?”

  “Good,” both answered together.

  “Would you both like to join me on a mission?”

  “Yes!” both men answered excitedly.

  “When, where,” asked John.

  “It’s a bit of a nasty one and I would understand if you said no.”

  “No way!” said Rocko as he shook his head.

  Bill tilted his head towards the tall, double glass doors that led to the balcony and said, “Come on, guys, lets step out on the balcony and have a cigar while I give you the outline.”

  For thirty minutes any club member could see that their president and two fellow members were in a deep discussion as the light of their cigars could be seen waving around as they gestured with their hands while talking excitedly over something or other that they knew they were not privy to.

  Finally the three time travelers opened the doors and reentered the great room looking a bit somber as they did.

  “Dinner is served,” called Matt from the open doorway as he did a musical number on a small triangular chime.

  The spacious dinning room was lit gaily by two overhead chandeliers that sported many candles. At Bill’s insistence they all sat before he did and John sat to his right while Rocko took the left hand seat. When all was settled, Bill stood and tapped his wine glass with a knife to get everyone’s attention.

  “Good evening, fellow members of the 1800 Club. I’d like to take a moment to introduce our latest member, Thomas McDonough.” He looked at the new member and motioned for him to stand, which brought forth a round of applause.

  Bill continued, “Thomas has a unique invention that will benefit all of us New Yorkers, but please let him tell you about it after dinner.”

  Matt and his crew of waiters appeared in the door at the rear of the dining room.

  As usual the dinner was outstanding, as was the after-dinner drinks by the fireplace. It was about ten o’clock when the group started to go to their dressing rooms to change into what they called, ‘Historically Challenged Persons’. The club was empty by eleven thirty and Bill, John and Rocko sat in Bill’s den at eleven forty-five.

  Matt tapped on the door and entered with a bottle of brandy and glasses on a silver-serving tray. He looked at Bill and said, “Sir, the garments are ready whenever you are.”

  “Thank you, Matt. You can bring them up whenever you wish.”

  “Bill,” said Rocko as Matt closed the door behind him, “I know where the Titanic sank and can easily find out where the iceberg was two or three days after the collision. There are a few places that we can sail out of to intercept it, but I’d like to leave from New York as I’m familiar with the sailing around the Big Apple.”

  “Bill raised his hands and said as he shrugged his shoulders, “Rocko, it’s your show on how to get us there and return. If you say New York, it’s New York.”

  “Okay,” said Rocko with a nod. “Next, they had some nice steamboats in 1912. They were coal powered which means that the three of us will have to take chances shoveling coal or hiring a coal gang.”

  Bill shook his head, “I’d rather keep this just between us.”

  “Fine,” answered Rocko. “The trip will take us about four to five days to get there and the same to return.”

  A tap at the door stopped them as Matt entered with two valises. He placed them near a hassock, turned and left the room only to return with a third one.

  “I asked Matt to outfit us for the trip,” said Bill as he faced Matt. “Matt, Rocko would like us to leave from New York. Now, if you’re ready, proceed.”

  “Very well, sir,” he said as he opened one of the valises. “What I’m going to show you, gentlemen, is the contents of one valise as all three contain the same items.” He picked up a pair of dark pants and said, “Typical sailing pants, but with a v
ery different material as they are lightweight but warm and waterproof.” He took out a jacket and went on, “A windbreaker which is also lightweight but warm.” Next he took out a pair of canvas deck shoes, “Waterproof deck shoes that have great gripping power with much less slippage while on a wet deck or an iceberg.” Next he held up a black, thick turtleneck sweater and said, “As with the other items this is lightweight but warm and water repellant. Each of you has two sets of all that I just showed you plus socks, a knitted deck cap and work gloves.” He hefted a long brown fur coat with a hood and thick mittens attached to the cuffs. “Although the weather is on the warm side in the area of operations, I have included a lightweight, but very warm snow coat in case of unexpected bad weather. Finally, I have supplied you all with undergarments and toiletries.”

  He started to close the valise when he added “What time are we leaving, sir?”

  “After breakfast tomorrow . . . “ Bill’s eyebrows arched as he asked, “Matt, did you say, ‘what time are we leaving?”

  “Yes sir. I would imagine that a fourth man would eliminate some of the load such as helping with the coal shoveling.”

  Bill smiled and with a shrug said, “Matt, we would love it if you came along with us.”

  “Fine, sir. I shall ask the chef if he would watch Samson while we are gone.”

  Matt left the room and Bill looked at the clock and said, “Rocko, do you have a boat in mind for the trip?”

  He nodded and answered, “I have all of my reference materials online at home and I’m sure we can rent something nice.”

  The three men rose and Bill said as he slapped them on their backs, “Breakfast is at eight tomorrow morning. Any takers?”

  Both men answered ‘yes’ in unison then went down to their changing rooms and Matt showed them out before locking up the club.

  The next morning, breakfast consisted of eggs Benedict, home fries and rye and white toast. Matt poured coffee that raised the three men’s eyebrows.

  “Wow! This is great coffee,” said John as Rocko nodded in agreement.”

  “Thank you, sirs,” said Matt as he put the silver coffee pot down. “A small shop in Queens imports the best beans from a farm that has long since burned down.”

  “What year?” asked Rocko.

  “1894, sir. When we are low I take Samson for a stroll there and purchase a pound. I’d gladly pick up extra for you two gentlemen, if you wish.”

  “We wish,” said Rocko shaking his head.

  “Rocko,” asked Bill, “did you find a boat for our trip?”

  “Pretty sure, Bill. Down at the Battery at the tip of Manhattan, there was a group of steam-powered yachts, some of which were for sale and some for rent. The going rate to rent was $150 a day and that includes coal enough for our needs.”

  “Do you need any special papers to rent one?”

  Rocko grinned as he presented some folded papers from his pocket. “Well, yes and no. I took the liberty of downloading some documents stating that I was the captain of the SS Princess Sophia, a yacht owned by the Canadian Pacific Railway. It’s not unusual for a captain of one yacht to rent another of the same type for a few days of fishing.”

  “Fine,” said Bill as he finished his coffee. “I say we get dressed for 1912 and start this mission.”

  The four men changed into their cruise wear and were ready to leave at 9:30 a.m.

  At the open door, Bill took his Time Frequency Modulator and asked, “Hey Rocko, what date should I enter into the TFM?”

  Rocko was quiet for a moment then said, “Uh, lets see. From New York City to the iceberg is approximately 1,100 miles and most of the steam powered yachts of that time operated at between ten and fourteen knots. As we need to do our own coal shoveling I say that we go no faster than ten knots so the trip will take four to five days and, as we want to stay away from any rescue vessels, we should get there on April 17, 1912, which means that we must leave New York on April 12, 1912.”

  “Two days before the Titanic hits the iceberg,” said John.

  Bill entered April 12, 1912, 9:45 a.m. into his TFM, pressed the activate button and opened the door. As they walked down the stairwell, it dawned on Bill that unlike most of the other time trips he had taken, this time there wasn’t that wonderful feeling of going back in time. This time there was no excitement because he knew that they were going into the area where one of the world’s worst disasters took place . . . and there was nothing they could do about it. Just concentrate on the mission, Bill, he thought as they entered the garden.

  DATELINE: APRIL 12, 1912 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB’S GARDEN, NEW YORK CITY

  The four men stepped into the garden, and Bill noticed that although it was a beautiful day with plants and shrubs popping up as they woke up from their winter-long slumber, there was none of the usual banter from the time traveling club members.

  Once on the sidewalk Bill locked the garden gate behind them and they stepped off in search of a taxicab.

  Around the corner they saw three taxicabs lined up at the curb and the four men missed seeing horse-drawn cabs as the tall, boxy cabs sat idling and spewing out a steady stream of blue-white exhaust.

  Progress, thought Bill dejectedly.

  The taxi driver of the first cab saw the men with their valises and grinned hopefully as they approached.

  “Taxi, sirs?”

  “Yes,” answered Bill. “Four to go downtown to the Battery.”

  “Yes sir. One of you will have to sit next to me as the back seat can only handle three.”

  “I’ve got it,” said Rocko with a big grin. “Shotgun,” he whispered. They placed their valises on the floor in front of them and climbed aboard which seemed to be a signal to the driver, as he took off in a roar of exhaust smoke and noise.

  Rocko asked the driver, “Is this a Maxwell?”

  “Yep!” answered the driver, “1909 and she rides like she’s brand new.”

  They headed downtown towards the Battery and the spring leaf of the cab’s poor suspension system lost every battle it encountered as, rather than absorbing the shock of going over a bump, it bounced off of it.”

  “Best invention ever,” said John.

  “The taxicab?” asked Bill.

  “No, the hand grip!” he laughed as he tilted his head towards his handholding the leather handgrip attached to the inside of the cab.

  Ten minutes later they were down at the beginning of Manhattan Island. They left the taxi and walked slowly along the wharfs and piers that had all types of boats tied to them.

  Bill, John and Matt stood and watched as Rocko walked slowly along the dock looking over the tied up vessels and talking to the captains. Finally he came back to the three men.

  “Anything good?” asked John.

  “Yes,” Rocko answered. He turned to Bill and said, “The boat is the Aquilo, a steam yacht. She was built in 1901 and is 152 feet long by 20 feet wide, which makes her a nice ocean going ship. She’s equipped with an early style radio that has a hand crank should the ship’s power fail. She’s powered by a compound steam engine with coal-fired boilers that give her a speed of 12 to 14 knots, plus she has sails as a backup. The owner is William Phelps Eno, a sharp guy and if my memory is correct, he is the inventor of the stop sign, the pedestrian cross walk and some other traffic things. He’ll rent me the boat for $150 a day with the coal included.”

  Bill nodded and turned to Matt and said, “Matt we need $1,500 for the boat.”

  “Very well, sir,” he answered as he removed a leather billfold from his inside jacket pocket. He counted off fifteen, one hundred dollar bills and passed them to Rocko, who walked back to the boat. Ten minutes later he returned and said, “All aboard that’s going aboard.”

  The four men went aboard and explored the boat. She had a steel hull but the deck and everything below deck was built using beautiful teak and mahogany wood. All of the brass work were gleaming, which told Rocko that the owner took pride in his vessel. Just as the owner had said, the
coalbunkers were full and the fire was lit and ready to go.

  There were two double and two single cabins for the crew or passengers and four more rooms situated at the rear for the owner and his family plus a large dining room.

  They opened the door to a typical cabin and Rocko smiled as the beauty of the room shocked his non sea faring friends. The wooden bed that was built into the curved wall of the boat had a ten-inch lip built on the outside of the bunk to stop the sleeping person from rolling out of it during rough seas. Beneath the bed was a series of drawers with latches to keep them from sliding open. Built into the facing wall of the cabin was a table with beautifully turned wooden legs and the obligatory four-inch lip to prevent objects on the table from rolling off. Over the table was an oil lamp that was mounted on a swivel and a small bookcase. Under the table, where the wall meets the floor, ran a silver colored pipe that entered from the floor, ran around the cabin and ended in a small radiator. When the steam engines were running this piping system carried steam heat to warm the cabin. In the wall just below the ceiling was a round porthole that could be opened for fresh air and closed during high-running seas. All of the hooks for hanging clothes, binoculars and other items were made of highly shined brass.

  At the end of the small walkway between the eight cabins was the bathroom. Once again Rocko smiled as the others were in awe of the craftsmanship put into a boat of this time period. Mounted on the left side of the bathroom was a sink with a vanity above it, and on either side of the vanity was a wall-mounted oil lamp. The letter ‘H’ and ‘C’ on the faucets told them that she sported hot and cold running water. The walls of the spacious room were made of mahogany, as was the ceiling while the floor was set in brown and white, one half-inch tiles that ended at the large shower. Instead of shower doors, it had off-white, shower curtains that were tied back when not in use. As usual, there was a three-inch high lip where the shower began in order to keep the water in the shower during rough seas. A silver colored pipe entered the room through the floor and turned into a vertical radiator with wide spaces between each rung to heat the towels hanging on each rung.

 

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