The Fire (Northwest Passage Book 4)

by John A. Heldt

  "I understand," Kevin said.

  "As you may also know, Mr. Monroe taught economics as well as physics and chemistry. The successful candidate for this position will be required to demonstrate at least minimal proficiency in all of these subjects during the probationary period."

  "I see."

  "Does that present any problems?"

  "No, it does not. I took several physics and chemistry classes to fulfill my major requirements and three economics classes to fulfill my university requirements. I think I could teach all three subjects satisfactorily."

  "Are you telling us that you do not have a degree in education?" Wainwright asked.

  "I am. I majored in astronomy and earth sciences, but I believe I could effectively teach any of the physical sciences – and economics – at the high school level."

  Kevin looked at Wainwright and saw a poker face. He couldn't tell whether he had gained ground or lost it, but he was satisfied that he had answered the question as best he could.

  Morrison jumped back in.

  "I should also note that the successful candidate will serve initially in an auxiliary role and be subject to oversight by his peers. Is that something you would find acceptable?"

  "I would. I'm a big believer in team teaching. I would find working with other instructors rewarding and even stimulating," Kevin said, looking Sarah in the eyes.

  OK. That was a little over the top, Kevin thought. But what was the point of an extended stay in 1910 if he couldn't have some fun? He looked at Sarah and saw her blush. Clearly his mildly flirtatious comment had registered.

  Kevin also saw a tight smile sweep across the face of Samuel Garrison. He wondered if he had heard about his escapade in the boarding house.

  "Mr. Johnson, you say you have a strong background in the physical sciences," Garrison said. "What can you tell us that might shed some light on your expertise?"

  "Well, I can tell you that our understanding of our planet and the universe around us is in its infancy. We're on the verge of breakthroughs that will both enlighten and astound."

  "Can you give us an example?"

  "I'd be glad to. Let me give you one that relates to astronomy. As you may have read in the paper, Halley's comet is coming this spring. Most scientists today believe that comets are made up primarily of rock and dust, but a few think that they are comprised mostly of ice. I subscribe to the latter theory and think it is gaining currency. I believe that comets are, essentially, dirty snowballs and that their tails are little more than heated streams of vapor emitted by their nuclei."

  "You believe that?"

  "I do."

  Kevin looked at Garrison and could see he was skeptical. Morrison looked impressed and Wainwright baffled. Miss Sarah Thompson greeted his theory with an appreciative smile.

  Garrison, the scientist, gently peppered Kevin with science-related questions for the next thirty minutes. He seemed intrigued by the candidate's answers but not entirely convinced by them. When the give-and-take began to go in circles, Morrison intervened.

  "Perhaps Mr. Wainwright would like to ask another question."

  "Indeed, I would," he said. "Mr. Johnson, I'd like to inquire about your understanding of economics. As you know, there is much division in this country over the gold standard. What is your opinion on the current policy?"

  Kevin wanted to say he was a firm believer in gold. It had allowed him, after all, to access a time portal, pay off Sadie's debt, and have a pretty sweet time in the age of ragtime, derby hats, and nickelodeon shows. But he suspected that a flippant answer wouldn't cut it with a man who looked more like a mortician than an instructor of Latin and rhetoric.

  "I lean toward the opinion of Mr. Bryan," Kevin said, referring to William Jennings Bryan, a man who had sacrificed his presidential aspirations on an ill-advised "cross of gold" speech. "I am a proponent of free silver."

  Kevin knew as much about gold and silver standards as he knew about women, but he figured that even a simple declaration would score some points. Wainwright and the others were looking for confidence and certitude, not correct answers. If he gave them what they wanted, he'd probably get the job.

  "I see," Wainwright said. "I'm sure you will make many friends in Wallace with that view. This is the Silver Valley, after all, and it's silver that funds this town and this school."

  "I hope you're right, Mr. Wainwright. I would very much like to fit in."

  "We haven't heard yet from Miss Thompson," Morrison said. "Sarah, do you have a question for Mr. Johnson?"

  "I do. I have two questions, in fact."

  "Ask as many as you'd like."

  Sarah put her hands together on the table and looked at Kevin thoughtfully.

  "Mr. Johnson, as you may know, there are two classic philosophies on how best to educate. There is Plato's idealism and Aristotle's realism. Which do you favor?"

  Kevin laughed to himself. He'd get no softballs from the pretty one.

  "Well, Miss Thompson, I've always been a fan of keeping it real, so I guess I favor realism."

  "Please elaborate."

  Kevin felt his stomach sink.

  "Could you first refresh my memory on the specifics of the theory?"

  Sarah looked at Kevin like a cat looked at a cornered mouse.

  "Certainly. Aristotle considered human nature, habit, and reason to be equally important considerations in education. He also believed that repetition was vital in developing sound educational habits. Do you agree?"

  Kevin nodded.

  "I do agree, though I must say the repetition part sounds kind of boring. I think the best way to inspire students is to encourage creativity and get them to think outside the box. Education means looking at the big picture and not the individual parts.

  "You sound more like an idealist," Sarah said.

  More like a bullshit artist, Kevin thought.

  "Maybe I'm a little of both," he said. "Consider me a realistic idealist."

  Kevin looked at his audience and noted their differing reactions. The men nodded as if he had said something profound. Sarah raised an eyebrow and looked at him as if he had delivered a truckload of crap.

  "That's an interesting answer, Mr. Johnson," she said.

  "Thank you."

  Sarah paused a moment before continuing.

  "My second question is a bit more open-ended. I hope you don't mind."

  "I don't mind at all," Kevin said.

  "Principal Morrison tells me that you've spent the past three weeks in the Bitterroots looking for work and evaluating the communities in this area."

  "That is true."

  "What have you learned on your trip?"

  Kevin laughed to himself.

  What have I learned, you ask? Well, I've learned a lot of things. I've learned that time travel is pretty cool, that whiskey tastes sweeter in 1910 than in 2013, that no one should be saddled with their father's debts, and that you look incredible standing on a balcony.

  "That's a good question, Miss Thompson. One thing I've learned is that you should never judge people before getting to know them. I've formed friendships on this trip with some interesting individuals – people I might have ignored in the past because of how they spoke or what they wore or where they worked."

  Kevin scanned the male mugs in the room and checked for smirks. If Messieurs Morrison, Wainwright, and Garrison had heard about his visit to the boarding house, they were keeping that knowledge to themselves.

  Sarah smiled softly.

  "What else have you learned?"

  Kevin took a breath and addressed his questioner thoughtfully.

  "I've learned that if you want to have a meaningful life you have to take risks. You have to see the world, sometimes change the way you think, and look at each day as an adventure."

  Kevin looked at Sarah closely and saw that his answer had been more than sufficient. He saw eyes that projected satisfaction, admiration, and perhaps more.

  "Is there anything else you'd like to know?
"

  Sarah reddened and shook her head.

  "No. I think I'm finished. Thank you for your candor, Mr. Johnson."

  Morrison began scribbling in what looked like an appointment book. When he was done, he closed the book and returned his attention to the people at the table.

  "Thank you, Miss Thompson," he said. "If there are no more questions, I believe we can send this young man on his way. Mr. Johnson, is there anything you'd like to ask us?"

  Kevin considered asking a few questions about the school and the community but decided to take a pass. There was nothing he couldn't learn about both from Maude, Andy, and Sadie and probably learn in greater detail. It was time to bring the interview to an end.

  "I have one question. When do you expect to reach a decision on this opening?"

  Morrison sat up straight.

  "We will meet with two more candidates today and another tomorrow. I intend to make a decision by Friday. Is there a way I can reach you, if necessary?"

  "I'm currently residing at the Duvalier house on King Street," Kevin said. "The telephone number is Bell 151. I'm usually there most of the day. If I'm not in when you call, then please leave a message."

  "I'll do that."

  Morrison paused.

  "There is one final matter."

  Kevin leaned forward.

  "Should it become necessary, we will request your transcripts from the university. The board usually insists on seeing the credentials of new hires – not always, but usually. I assume that this will not pose a problem."

  Kevin forced a smile. He suspected that they might do some digging. This was a teaching position, after all, not a gig at a convenience store or a summer job driving a combine in eastern Oregon. He considered a range of answers before settling on one he could live with for now.

  "No, it will not," he said.

  "Excellent," Morrison said. "I think that concludes our business. Miss Thompson will show you out."

  Kevin stood up, shook the hands of the three men, and followed Sarah out of the conference room to a long hallway. From there, they walked to a pair of doors that led to the front walk.

  "You did well, Mr. Johnson," Sarah said with a gentle smile that would always wear well. "I hope to see you again."

  "I'd like that, Miss Thompson. I'd like that a lot."

  He shook a soft hand, opened a door, and walked into the cool March air. Spring had not started, according to the calendar, but in the mind of Kevin Johnson, it was already summer.

  CHAPTER 27: KEVIN

  Saturday, March 12, 1910

  "Congratulations on getting the job. When do you start?"

  "I start Monday."

  "Are you prepared?"

  Kevin chuckled. He wasn't prepared to do anything in this strange new world except spend Asa Johnson's money, drink whiskey with Andy, and flirt with pretty young women, but he'd had to adjust quickly when Ed Morrison offered him a position Friday morning.

  "I think so, but I won't know for sure until I start flapping my gums in class."

  Sadie smiled.

  "You're funny."

  No, I'm terrified.

  Kevin glanced at Sadie as they strolled south on a dirt road that ran along Placer Creek. He could see she was in a good mood. She had been that way almost every day since he had returned to Maude's mansion nearly two weeks earlier.

  "I don't think I could ever do what you do."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't think I could teach."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "I would be afraid of making a mistake."

  "Everyone makes mistakes, Sadie, even teachers."

  "I know, but not everyone makes mistakes in front of twenty or thirty people. I'd be afraid of saying something stupid."

  "I can't imagine you saying anything stupid. I can't imagine you doing anything stupid."

  Kevin realized he had stepped in it as soon as the words came out.

  "All right, there was that. But that was different."

  Sadie furrowed her brows and stared at him hard until she burst out laughing. Kevin quickly followed. Before long, the two were holding their sides and trying to catch their breath.

  "You'd better laugh," Sadie said. She smiled as she slowly regained her composure. "I think we both know that was stupid."

  "OK. I'll grant you that. It was pretty stupid," Kevin said, turning serious. "But you're not stupid, Sadie. You're anything but stupid. You're very smart."

  She frowned and looked away.

  "You're just saying that to be nice."

  "That's not true at all. I'm saying it because I mean it."

  "How can you say that?" she asked. "I'm not as smart as a teacher. I'm not as smart as you. I would look stupid teaching a class."

  Kevin gently grabbed Sadie's arm and turned her toward him.

  "Sadie, define smart for me. What's your definition of a smart person?"

  She stared into space for few seconds, as if searching for a "smart" answer, before returning to Kevin. When she spoke, she did so with doubt in her voice.

  "A smart person is someone who knows things, someone who has gone to college."

  Kevin shook his head.

  "No. You're wrong. There are a lot of people who have gone to college who are dumber than a box of rocks, and there are people who haven't gone to college who are smarter than me."

  "Name one."

  "Sadie Hawkins."

  Sadie smiled sweetly.

  "You've been drinking with Andy again."

  "No. I've been talking with Sadie again. I've seen your mind at work. Remember those questions I asked you at the restaurant, the math questions?

  Sadie nodded.

  "You answered those questions faster than I did the first time I heard them. You answered them faster than anyone I've known. You have a way with numbers and even words. You have a keen mind. What you don't have is an advanced education."

  Sadie looked at Kevin with doubt-filled eyes and offered a weak smile.

  "Thank you."

  Kevin was about to say something when he looked across the street and saw a Grandma Moses wannabe stare at him from a second-floor window in her house. When he waved to her, she scowled and shook her head. She did not at all seem to approve of a young man walking with a young woman near the edge of the woods.

  Kevin was tempted to ask if she wanted to serve as Sadie's chaperone but decided against it. He had already pushed more than a few buttons in 1910. There was no need to push more. He scanned his surroundings and saw the beginning of a wide trail that he had already hiked three times: once in 1910 and twice in 2013. The trail climbed halfway up the south hill before joining Garnet Street near the intersection with Seventh.

  "Let's go over there."

  "Go over where?"

  "Let's go over to that trail on the other side of the creek. We might give the old lady in the window a coronary, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm sure you don't mind taking the long way back to Maude's.

  Sadie smiled and shook her head.

  Kevin grabbed Sadie's hand and helped her cross a log bridge that spanned a ten-foot section of the creek. He laughed to himself as he tried to reconcile her attire with the setting around them. Wearing the Victorian maid uniform she donned six days a week, she looked as out of place on their nature walk as a model in heels, but she was as lovely as ever.

  He had asked her to go on a walk for the same reason he had asked her to go to the nickelodeon and the roller-skating rink. He wanted to get to know her better. Just what he would do when he got to know her better was anyone's guess. Kevin had yet to determine his end game. Five minutes into the trail, he resumed the conversation.

  "Thanks for that letter, by the way."

  Fifteen awkward seconds passed before she replied.

  "What letter?" she asked with an impish grin.

  "The one that brought me back to Wallace in record time."

  "Oh, that letter. I hope you didn't think it was too forwar
d. I didn't mean it to be."

  Kevin laughed.

  "Of course you didn't. That's why you sprayed it with perfume."

  Sadie's face turned a splendid shade of red.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry for what?"

  "I'm sorry for disrupting your trip."

  Kevin grabbed her hand and pulled her closer.

  "You didn't disrupt my trip. You made it better, a lot better. That was a lovely letter, Sadie. I've never received a note like that."

  Sadie cocked her head and studied Kevin's face, as if trying to determine whether or not he was putting her on. Apparently he was not.

  "I find that hard to believe."

  "Well, believe it, because it's true."

  "But you're educated – and handsome."

  "I don't know about that. I know only that your note was a first," he said. Kevin tightened his hold on Sadie's hand and gently pulled her forward. "Come on. There's something I want to show you."

  Five minutes later, Kevin helped Sadie climb atop a bathroom-sized boulder in the middle of the south hill. The flat-topped rock offered a panoramic view of Wallace and a close-up view of Garnet, its southernmost street.

  "Have you ever been up here?"

  Sadie shook her head.

  "I grew up on the other side of town," she said. We had a cabin near Nine Mile Creek. I never came out here, not once, not even with other kids when I was in school."

  "Well, now you have."

  Kevin put a hand on the small of her back as they both looked at the town below. He could see nearly the entire city, from the train depots along the river to the churches, hotels, and public buildings that shot up from the community's downtown core. He could also see two homes on Garnet Street that he remembered vividly from previous visits.

  Though Asa Johnson's property was the farthest away, it was the most visible. Kevin could clearly make out the white house with the black shutters and the wood-shake roof, not to mention the stone shack in back that had a revolving door to the twenty-first century.

  When Kevin saw the chamber of stones, he thought not only of his own travels but also of Asa's. He had wondered on many occasions how his great-great-grandfather did it. He wondered how Asa managed to go back and forth in time without raising suspicions, hurting his business, and disrupting the lives of those around him.