Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club Book VIII

by Robert P McAuley

“Pasquale,” said Patty, “you have a beautiful voice.”

  “And, so do you, Patty. I should know as I am a voice coach.”

  “Ah, said Patty, “I am a traveling salesman, but I love to sing, and to be here tonight and hear the great Caruso, well, it’s an honor.”

  A hush settled as footsteps on the wooden floor were heard approaching. It was Caruso. He stopped in front of Pasquale and with a smile said, “Ah, Pasquale, my friend. I heard your golden voice and had to say hello.” He put his hand out and the two men shook hands.

  “Maestro, this is Patty Donatto, he sings like a bird perched on a gondola.”

  “Ah, a fellow Italiano,” he said as he put his hand out. They shook and Caruso turned to Pasquale and said, “As you witnessed, my friend, my fear of the high notes is slowly leaving me.” He did a slight bow and went on, “And I thank you for that.”

  “Yes, yes, I have noticed that, Maestro,” answered Pasquale, “Now you are ready to conquer New York as you did Europe.

  I can’t believe that I’m going to do this, thought Patty as he got their attention. “Gentlemen,” he said as he nervously twisted his hands together, “There is a doctor I heard of in New Jersey who advocates breathing with the stomach rather than with the chest. He said that he ran tests which showed a longer singing life using his method.” He shrugged his shoulders knowing that the method he just told them about was way off into their future. “For what it’s worth I have been using this method for five years now and I swear by it.”

  Caruso slapped him on his back and said with a huge grin, “Then, my friend, join us in a few moments of Rigoletto.” He looked at Patty’s grandfather and said, “Yes? Shall we, my friend?” At Pasquale’s nod Caruso took them both by the arm and guided them over to the piano and the small group still going over Rigoletto.

  “My friends,” said Caruso as he clapped his hands for their attention. “Tonight we have two fans of Rigoletto who would sing with me.” He looked at the piano player and said, “Maestro?”

  Maestro Vigna smiled and went through the scale as he looked at the three men. Caruso started and both Patty and his grandfather joined in.

  Everyone in the area dropped anything they were doing and quietly listened as three golden voices pierced the dark Opera House as never before. They seemed to hit notes that were unreachable and to Bill Scott they seemed to be the original Three Tenors.

  Patty stood to the left of Caruso while his grandfather stood to the great singer’s right. The short stocky tenor put his arms around them both as they finished. The three men laughed as they bowed to the thunderous applause of the many listeners in the dark.

  “My friend,” exclaimed Caruso to Patty as he pressed his hand against his stomach, “Using your breathing technique brought me great confidence to climb to those higher notes every time I needed them. This is fantastic.”

  “And I, too,” added his grandfather, “It will be my next lesson to my students.”

  Patty looked at his watch and realizing how tired he was, said to the two men, “I’m just happy to meet you both. Now, I really must run.”

  Caruso offered his hand and they shook hands. Patty turned to his grandfather and after shaking his hand as well, said, “Pasquale, you have given me a moment to cherish for the rest of my life,” he hugged the man.

  “Patty,” he said, “your eyes are just like my wife’s eyes: blue and clear as a window. I wonder if somehow we are related?”

  Patty smiled and said, “Someday perhaps we’ll meet and talk again. Until then, ‘Si può crescere sani e felici e cantare per sempre come un uccello su una gondola il mio amico speciale’”.

  Pasquale looked stunned and smiled as Patty left the stage. Bill, who put his collar up for their trek in the snow, joined him. Once outside Bill asked, “What was it that you said to your grandfather?”

  “You heard me?”

  “Sure. The place is built so every sound onstage is heard way up to the last row.”

  Patty smiled. “Loosely translated I said, ‘May you grow healthy and happy and sing forever as a bird on a gondola ride, my special friend.’”

  Bill smiled as he waved down a cab for their trip back to the 1800 Club.

  DATE: FEBRUARY 2013 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Bill opened the door to the den and both men shook the snow off their coats. There was a light tap on the door that led to the hall and it slowly opened. Matt entered holding Samson by the collar. Matt was dressed in his pajamas and long bathrobe complete with stocking hat.

  “Sir,” he said letting go of Samson who bounded towards his master. “Will you be wanting coffee or something else?”

  Bill looked at Patty who shook his head no. “Thanks anyway, Matt. Why don’t you turn in?”

  “Very well sir. Samson has been walked and is set for bed. Good night, sirs.” He left as both men sat, Samson tucked between Bill and the leather easy chair.

  “So, Patty. What are your thoughts on tonight’s adventure?”

  Patty shook his head and sat forward, his elbows on his knees. “What happened tonight is something that would baffle anyone, yet I seem to feel that it is natural to go back in time.”

  “I know what you mean. The only explanation I have of us taking it in stride is that the club prepares us for a trip in time. And that is how it should be as that is the reason for the club’s existence: to have a club member feel comfortable when they go back in time to fix a glitch.”

  Patty stretched and stifled a yawn. “I’d love to hear more about this sixth victim that Jack the Ripper kills.”

  “Well actually he hasn’t killed her yet. And your knowledge of the Ripper was the reason I decided to try to recruit you into going back and preventing it from happening. You see, Patty, the sixth victim has a full life in front of her and one of her descendants becomes a Secret Service man and helps prevent President Reagan from being assassinated. If she dies, he never exists and that could change history drastically if he’s not around to prevent the assassination.”

  “So, what is it that I have to do?”

  Bill shrugged his shoulders and said, “That’s going to pretty much be up to you. You see, I can supply you with clothing and money of that era but you will be the guy who decides how to prevent her death.”

  “But, do you have a picture of her?”

  Bill sat back and nodded. “Yes, we have pictures of her along with the timetable of events that transpired right up to her death. We can provide you with a passport, train and ship tickets, money and anything else you might need to accomplish the mission. Have you ever been to England?”

  “Yes, many times. And I did the ‘Jack the Ripper’ tour so I’m familiar with the local as well as the facts.” This time Patty lost the battle and yawned.

  Bill smiled and stood. “My friend, I think we should both get some sleep. Can you stop by tomorrow and we’ll plan your trip?”

  “I’ll be here bright and early!”

  “Good. Now follow me to the dressing area so you can change back to your ’today’ clothes.” He led the way and soon after was sipping a hot chocolate as he gazed out his window and watched Patty leave the club. Samson quickly followed him into his bedroom and when Bill came out of the shower he was curled up on his bed, asleep.

  Mmm, never really knew that dogs snored, thought Bill as he climbed into bed. Soon he was snoring away too.

  There was a tap at the door and Matt entered carrying a silver tray with a covered plate and coffee server and mug on it. Bill could smell the bacon and eggs under the cover, as did the Beagle whose tongue hung out as he sat watching the food and beverage tray.

  “Come eat, Samson,” said Matt and the dog leapt off the bed and headed towards the open door.

  “I’ll feed and walk him, sir.”

  “Thanks, Matt. I have Patty Gelardi coming back today for a mission briefing.”

  “Yes, he called this morning, sir. He’ll be here for lunch.”

  Bill smiled at Matt. �
�Just what the heck would I do without you, Matt?”

  “Shall I lay out your clothes for you, sir?” said Matt brushing off the compliment.

  “Naw! I’ll take care of that. Thanks anyway.” He went to pick up the cover off the plate when he said, “Oh, Matt. Are you bringing Samson out in our time or another?”

  Matt smiled as he read Bill’s mind. “Most likely, sir, I’ll walk him in the summer of 1947. Would you like some ice cream from the Bungalow Bar ice cream truck?”

  Bill’s eyes opened wide, “Wow! That’s exactly what I was thinking! Yes, I’d love a vanilla ice cream Popsicle.”

  A smiling Matt left the room with Samson trotting after him.

  Bill ate, showered and dressed then sat in front of his laptop going over the next mission. It was 11 am when there was a tap on the door followed by it opening and a Beagle bounding through the opening. He leaped up on Bill’s lap as Matt entered carrying a white paper bag.

  “Please tell me that you found a Bungalow Bar ice cream truck,” said Bill eyeing the package.

  “Ah, yes, sir. We happened upon one as the driver was dispensing his wares and,” he whipped a vanilla ice cream Popsicle out of the bag, “asked for your request. He had a few left so I took the liberty of purchasing three: one for you, one for myself and one for Samson. Of course Samson demanded that he eat his straight away so I joined him. That leaves one for you.” He smiled as he passed the ice cream Popsicle to Bill. Samson sat and watched for any that might drop to the floor . . . none did as Bill devoured his.

  “Fantastic, Matt. We need to walk him there more often.”

  “Very well, sir,” said Matt as he exited the room.

  Less than an hour later Matt buzzed Bill with the arrival of Patty. Bill escorted the club’s newest time traveler to his favorite eating area: the bay window that gave a great view of the city. Matt set a table of fine china and glassware along with a platter of sliced meats, cheese, tuna and chicken salad and thin sliced ham along with rye, white or whole wheat bread. Samson went under the glass table and lay down as Matt placed a large silver ice bucket on the table. The bucket was covered with a white linen cloth.

  Bill offered a seat and Patty sat.

  “Bill,” said Patty placing a napkin on his lap, “I must tell you that last night was the best thing that ever happened to me and if going back in time to fix a so-called glitch will give me more time travel, I’m all for it.”

  “After we eat,” said Bill fixing a tuna salad on rye sandwich, “I’ll show you the hologram that the time watchers of the future gave me. It explains a lot.” He reached for the cloth that covered the ice bucket and went on as he removed it showing two bottles of orange drink surrounded with ice. “Have you ever had Orange Crush soda?”

  Patty flinched, “Wow! Orange Crush! Where did you get that? I never had one but my dad told me about them as he drank them when he was a kid.”

  “Matt shops at Jerry’s, a small Italian fruit and vegetables store in Brooklyn back in 1944. He became friends with the owner and gets some of the best pasta and fresh bread. He brought us back a few bottles of Orange Crush. Try one,” he said passing him one along with a bottle opener, “you’ll love it.”

  Patty opened the bottle, poured it over the ice in his glass and took a sip. He closed his eyes as he said, “Wow, this is good. My dad knew what he was talking about.” He wiped his mouth and said with a grin, “Bill, you have the best job in the world.”

  “I agree,” answered Bill matching his smile.

  The two men ate and went into the den and lit cigars as Bill set up the hologram. They watched the newsboys shout their headlines as they waved their freshly printed newspapers around. The scene ended and a new one took its place showing a newspaper laid out on a proofing table, it’s words clear and sharp:

  At 10:00 am this very morning, Officer Thomas Wallace found another victim of Jack The Ripper at Sydney and Victorian Streets. How, you may ask do we know it is the work of this madman? Simple! Her body showed the same slash marks as the other poor women. No, it is the hand of the Ripper who did this terrible deed and this newspaper demands to know when the police will put an end to his deeds! The luckless woman was Jeanine Larsen and the papers and travel tickets in her purse, found beneath her body, claimed she had just arrived from the United States of America on December 3 – just one day ago on the passenger ship, Servia. What her business was is not known and this newspaper will accept any information about the young lady and pass it on to the authorities.

  Bill watched as Patty stared at the hologram, took a long pull of his cigar and slowly exhaled. He shook his head and leaned forward to flick his cigar ash into the standing ashtray. He was deep in thought.

  Finally, he shook his head as he said between clenched teeth, “That murdering pig has never been caught. The police were so close at times but he always made good his escape. There are those who thought the killer was connected to some pretty high-placed people to keep from being caught.”

  “Do you want to take a crack at it?” asked Bill as he petted Samson who was sleeping under the table.

  “Boy, you bet I do!” He sat back and looking up at the ceiling said, “What if that woman, Jeanine Larsen, didn’t make that trip. Wouldn’t that change everything?”

  “Not really,” said Bill. “You see Patty, she really took that trip and that’s something we can’t change. All we can do is prevent the Ripper from harming her and ending his killing spree at five.” He flicked his cigar ash and concluded, “That is the mission: stop him from killing Jeanine Larson so she can fulfill her life as she really did.”

  Patty nodded. “Well since I have to be in London to prevent this from happening, and she leaves from here, I might as well take the same ship as her.”

  “What ever you think works best is fine with me. I’ll get you anything you need just tell me when you want to leave.”

  Patty shrugged his shoulders. “I’m doing my last singing gig this evening and will have some time before the next one. So, why not tomorrow?”

  “Great!” said Bill as he pressed an intercom button on his desk, “I’ll have Matt fit out some outfits for you.”

  Matt answered the buzzer, “Yes, sir?”

  “Matt, will you come in and measure Patty for clothing for his trip.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  Two minutes later Matt entered with a tape measure. He indicated a spot before a full-length mirror and Patty stood there as Matt took his measurements.

  “What season and year, sirs and will there be traveling and if so, what type?”

  “November, 1888 and yes, he’ll need steamship tickets from New York to London, England,” answered Bill.”

  Crushing out his finished cigar, Bill turned to the clubs newest time traveler and asked, “What time tomorrow, Patty?”

  “I can be here about 1 pm. Is that enough time for the clothes to be ready?”

  Bill looked at Matt who nodded as he left the room. “Yes,” said Bill.

  “Then I’ll be back at ten. Thanks for the lunch and great view of the city.”

  They shook hands and Bill walked him to the door.

  The grandfather clock struck one in the afternoon as Matt tapped on his door before opening it. Bill was brushing Samson’s gleaming coat of black, brown and white hair and Matt had to grin as the canine’s eyes were half closed as he relished the rubdown. “Sir, Mister Gelardi is downstairs. Shall I bring him up?”

  “Yes, sure, Matt.” He ruffled Samson’s ears and as he knew the rubdown was over, the Beagle climbed up onto an easy chair and after circling the area he picked to lay down in, curled up and closed his eyes. Two minutes later he opened them briefly as Patty entered the room.

  Bill offered Patty offered a seat. “Would you like a cigar?”

  Patty shook his head, “No, not right now, Bill, but I’d love to have a few for the trip.”

  “You got them.”

  After a light tap, the door opened and Matt entered with a
small folding table and two leather suitcases, which he placed next to the full-length mirror. He opened one and said as he lifted an article of clothing: “A tan three-piece suit with matching vest.” He placed the suit on the now open table and removed another article from the suitcase. “A three piece black suit with matching vest.” Once again he draped it on the table and removed more articles, “Three pairs of deck slacks, brown, tan and black, six crew-neck, lightly knitted sweaters of various colors.” Soon the small table had six sets of underwear, six pairs of sox, white dress shirts, ties and cravats that matched the colors of the suits and a long dressing gown for sleeping in. The shoes he selected were a pair of brown, a pair of tan and a black pair plus a pair of deck shoes, which were the precursor of today’s sneakers. There were also white silk handkerchiefs with the initials PG embroidered on them. Matt then held up a black overcoat with a Beaver collar and asked, “Is this to your liking, sir? I have many more to choose from.”

  Patty fingered the collar and said as he shrugged his shoulders, “This is fine for me, Matt. November can be a cold month.”

  Matt nodded and held up a shaving mug, a bar of Cranks shaving soap, a brush and razor. “These are the shaving utensils of the time, sir, and,” he said as he lifted the tan suit, “Would you like to start your journey wearing the tan suit?”

  “Good choice,” answered Patty.

  Finally Matt passed a hairbrush to Bill, “Mister Scott will brief you on this object as I repack your clothing, sir.”

  Bill held the wooden hairbrush in his hand and said, “Patty, this is no ordinary hairbrush. Watch as I press down on the hand grip and turn at the same time.”

  Patty watched as Bill twisted the brush and it popped open to show a small keyboard and screen. Surprised, he listened as Bill went on.

  “This is a communicator. After you type a message it will appear on the screen and if you’re satisfied with it you hit the send button and I’ll get it right away.”

  Patty was impressed and took the brush when Bill handed it to him. “Wow! You mean we can stay in touch no matter where I am?”