by Alex Myers
Jack went to the docks to wait for the boat with the payroll. Bob Cooper was tying up a small skiff. Jack called out to him, “I thought you said you were going to finish the lights today.”
“I am. Just needed to run to town to take care of some business.” Cooper nervously checked his pocket watch. He then saw the leather satchel Jack had gotten from Frances containing the iPhone transcriptions.
“They said you left hours ago with a woman.”
“Unless you speak Hungarian, I’m sure there had to be a language issue. I’m sure somebody misunderstood somebody,” Cooper said.
“I didn’t know you owned a boat.”
“Oh, that?” Cooper said, walking fast past Jack. “That’s just something I use now and then.”
Jack watched Cooper walk by and shook his head. When he turned back, he saw the thirty-foot steamer payroll ship round the corner and approach the docks. Jack waved to the armed guard from the Sanger Brother’s Bank on the prow of the ship. The payroll was almost doubling each two-week pay period, having grown to two hundred fifty people. This payroll was bigger than normal because it also included a handsome Christmas bonus.
All work stopped as Jack entered the business office, followed by the two guards with the pay chest. They went straight through the building and into the vault. Jack had them place the chest on a table while he put the leather briefcase containing the transcriptions on a shelf. Jack quickly glanced around and, when he saw no one was looking, he slipped his iPhone into the bag with the transcriptions. The guards handed Jack the receipt and had turned to walk out when Jack saw Bob Cooper standing in the vault’s door. Cooper was looking directly at the shelf which held the transcriptions.
“The guys are almost done with the wiring,” Cooper said.
Jack motioned with his hand for Cooper to clear the doorway and then followed everyone out into the next room. He turned off the light and shut the vault door. The group proceeded to walk to the front of the building where Jack closed the steel gate and locked it shut. Cooper watched him closely.
“I’ll lock things up when we’re finished,” Cooper said.
“All right, I’m out of here,” Jack said.
“Oh, by the way, Jack,” Cooper asked. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
Jack stopped. Everyone was coming over to his place for a giant celebration. Cooper hadn’t been invited; other people seemed to like the man even less than Jack did. Jack could see that he was getting backed into a corner. “Just going to stay around my place,” he said.
“I see,” Cooper said as he rubbed his chin. “Alone?”
“Yeah. I was going to have some friends over.”
“Kaz, Murphy, Sam Clemens? Folks like that?” Cooper raised an eyebrow.
Jack thought that Cooper had outlived his usefulness. The draftsmen he’d hired were excellent, and all the subcontractors were being paid directly. Cooper was becoming more and more surly and no one seemed to trust him. “Yes,” he said. “And Frances and the Goodyears. And not you.”
“Why don’t you all just have yourselves a rooty toot-toot merry fucking Christmas? I’ll finish this and I’m out of here.”
“Come around tomorrow and bring your keys. We’ll square up on what we owe you.” Jack walked out the door and didn’t look back—he was sure glad he had those steel bars between Cooper and that safe.
Jack was supposed to meet Frances in twenty minutes. He wished he could call her and say that he was going to be late—sometimes the 19th century was just plain inconvenient. He’d go and tell her what was happening, then come back and watch over Cooper. He didn’t feel good about leaving the man, but with the big steel-barred door locked and knowing he had the only keys made him feel better.
Frances opened her front door. “Come in. They’ve just about got dinner ready for us.”
He told her about the episode with Cooper.
“You know, I’ve never liked him. There’s something I don’t trust about that man. I thought I saw him on a boat today with Mattie Turner.”
“Boat? Funny you’d say that because he showed up this afternoon on a boat. Can I take a pass on dinner? I want to go back and make sure Cooper gets out of there. I’ve got Christmas payroll sitting in that vault.”
“Dinner is almost ready, why don’t you stay and eat and then go?”
“It’s already been an hour and it’ll be an hour and a half by the time I get back. I appreciate it, but the more I think about it the worse I feel.”
“Jack, be careful.”
Jack wished he had a gun. He saw people wearing guns, although not as many as he supposed there would be. Most people didn’t carry a gun and as he crept around the side of the business office he missed the security that carrying brought. The big wagon that had been parked in front of the building earlier was now gone. He could hear something moving around inside. As he came around the front, he found the front door wide open and a light was shining inside.
He got to the door and listened—nothing. He peeked around the corner, then stepped right into the doorway—it was empty inside. The lights were on, there were horse hoofprints on the floor, and the steel-barred door was ripped off its hinges and lying on the ground. Then Jack’s heart sank as he saw the door to the vault was open wide.
All he could think of was the worker’s Christmas money as he ran through the room and into the darkened vault. The leather briefcase with the iPhone and pages of transcriptions were gone. He looked in the back of the room and, even in the dim light, he could see the money chest was gone, too. Then the door to the vault slammed shut and he could hear the levers closing, the dial spinning, and Bob Cooper’s laugh.
CHAPTER 42
December 1856
In the Dark
Jack was plunged into total darkness. There wasn’t even light entering around the edges of the safe’s large metal door. Jack searched the nearby wall for a light switch—nothing.
“Cooper, Cooper! Open the door!” The interior of the vault seemed to swallow the sound of Jack’s voice. “Can you hear me out there?”
“Yeah, I can hear you.” Cooper’s voice came through muffled, but louder than Jack expected.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Money. You never paid me the money I deserved.” Cooper paused long enough to make Jack wonder if he was still there. “Respect. You have never respected your Southern heritage or me. As soon as you invent something, you ship it North to the Yankee scum, all without regard for your own people. When it comes to war, I’m afraid you and your inventions will be on the wrong side.”
Jack continued to search for the light switch. The light had been on in the vault; he knew there was a light and it had been working. “That’s ridiculous. My goal is to prevent war.”
“Now that’s ridiculous. War needs to be fought, battle lines need to be drawn.”
“Cooper! Let me out of this safe, you nutjob.”
“Afraid not, Jack. Looks like I won’t be the only one missing your Christmas Party.”
“I don’t think anyone likes you, Bob. You walk around creeping everyone out. Even if somehow in your mind you can justify stealing my money, what about the briefcase?”
“That is very interesting. I’m not sure what all that writing is about—what is that, poetry?”
He must have been talking about the song that Frances transcribed that was on the top page.
“And whose handwriting is that? I’ve seen enough of your handwriting to know it’s not yours.”
“It’s just some love notes from Frances. Listen. They have deep sentimental value to me. Leave it here and forget about the money.”
“Bullshit, Jack, bullshit! Don’t lie to me. There’s only a page and a half of that poetry stuff and then it gets into a bunch of material I don’t understand, and the last twenty or thirty pages looks like it’s all about weapons. See, I can’t trust you. Just when I was going to let you out—“
“You were going to let me out?”
&nb
sp; “Hell, no, but you’re still such a liar. What in the wide world is this glass and metal thing, this ‘ip-ho-ne?”
Cooper had found the iPhone. “That? Oh, it’s no big deal, just something that’s been in my family for a while.”
“I call bullshit again on you, Mr. Jack. This is the most finely-machined piece I have ever seen. I don’t know what this is or what the pages of writing are about, but I do know people that will and they’ll pay dearly to have them.”
“Let me out. I can pay you a lot of money, too,” Jack said.
“With this payroll chest I already have a lot of money, and besides, if I let you out now, you’d probably kill me or at the very least have me arrested. I think I’ll leave you in there; it’ll be the last place someone will think to look for you. Since only you and I have the combination, it’ll be a good long while before someone gets that door open. I’ll be long gone, but more importantly, so will you. Next time I see you it’ll be in hell.”
“Cooper, listen. I’ll tell you who I really am and it’ll explain everything. You’ll see why it’s so important that I get out of here. Cooper? Cooper?” There was nothing. Not a sound came from the other side of the door. Cooper must have left. Jack tried talking to Cooper again and again and then after a while just gave up.
Jack methodically went up one side of the door and down the other, but all he felt was smooth metal. The large rocker switch wouldn’t have been installed on that, so he went to the wall. He found the shelves where he’d put the transcriptions and iPhone. He searched the wall next to the shelves and the space in between the shelves.
It’s probably right out in the open, but because it’s pitch black in here, I can’t see squat. It was incredibly disorienting not knowing left from right, not being able to see your hand in front of your face. If somebody comes in this building, I have to let them know I’m in here, I have to find something to tap on this metal door with. Jack crawled on his hands and knees, feeling for anything he could use to signal. He grabbed the metal support leg for the shelves, braced his feet against the shelves, and pulled.
The support came off in his hand and the shelves fell from the wall right onto Jack.
Most of it fell around him. A few pieces hit him, but one piece left his arm stinging. He felt the leg he had been clutching and found two long, spiky nails on one end. He felt his arm where it stung and could feel a spreading wetness. He was bleeding and he couldn’t tell how hard.
He got up and carefully walked to the metal vault door and pounded on it with his shelf leg. The metal spikes against the metal door made a nice high-pitched sound. Now all he needed was someone to come into the building. Blood from the wound on his forearm ran down to his wrist and he could hear it dripping onto the toe of his shoe.
He wasn’t sure when anyone would come into the new building. Someone, Elisha Root, maybe tomorrow, but he would be looking for the payroll and when he saw the vault closed, he’d turn around and start looking for Jack.
He slumped down onto the floor and settled in. It was going to be a long night, possibly longer, a lot longer. He had always thought his life had a purpose—some grand plan—and this time travel adventure had seemed to confirm it. He had already changed dozens, no, more like hundreds of lives for the better, and if his plan came together and he was actually able to stop the Civil War, perhaps millions would be affected. It would be a cruel twist of fate for him to die in a safe in the dark. How would he go? It had been getting colder outside and it looked like it was going to snow. Would he freeze to death? It would be a while before he ran out of air; dehydration would take him way before then. To hell with all that. I’ll go crazy before any of that happens. This is like pure sensory deprivation. He felt the puncture wound on his arm, still wet with fresh blood, and he applied pressure and hoped it would stop.
Then he heard the front door shut. Either someone was in the building or had just left. He started banging on the door with the spikes from his shelf leg. He waited, listened, then tapped some more. “Hello?” he called out, but his voice seemed small and far away. “Hello?” He listened again and didn’t hear anything. Maybe Cooper had left the door open and the wind had shut it?”
“Jack?”
It was Frances. Her voice seemed distant, but for sure it was Frances. He tapped about thirty times in a row and called her name as loudly as he could.
“Jack, is that you? Are you in the…safe?”
Tap ditty tap-tap, tap tap. “Yes, Frances, it’s me!”
“Jack, why are you in the safe?”
“Cooper locked me in and stole the payroll. Try turning the spoked handle, not the dial, and see if you can open the door.”
He heard her turn the handle and immediately could tell the lock did not open. She tried it again with the same result.
“It won’t open. Do you have the combination?”
“I don’t know it; it’s written down.”
“Where? I’ll go get it.”
“It’s in here on a piece of paper in my pocket.”
“Then, why aren’t you reading it to me?”
“It’s pitch black in here. There’s not even a hint of light, not even around the edges of the door.”
“Can you just slide it underneath?”
“There’s a seal around the door. I guess you need to go find Kaz or Murphy; maybe they can cut me out of here. I just wish I could find this stinking switch to turn the light on in here. I’ve searched every inch of wall space for it.”
The light in the vault sparked and then shone bright. “Was that the switch?” Frances asked.
“Why didn’t they put the light on the inside?” Jack said, but not loud enough for Frances to hear.
Jack could now see the paper with the combination written on it and read it to Frances. After several attempts, the door to the safe opened wide.
Once Jack was out and Frances saw the puncture wounds on Jack’s bloody arm, she insisted that he go to the on-site infirmary.
“Yeah, I’ll probably need some stitches. I couldn’t tell how bad it was in there. Why did you happen to come along?” Jack asked, examining the vault.
“I felt bad you didn’t get a chance to eat supper. I brought this.” She showed Jack a food basket. “When I didn’t find you at home, I assumed you’d be here. I saw your horse outside, I came in, and the next thing I know I’m hearing a tapping noise.”
“Cooper got the Christmas payroll, but more importantly he got the transcriptions and my iPhone. The thing is, it’s such a blur, I don’t even remember all the stuff we transcribed. No one will be able to get the phone working—I’m not worried so much about that—but those transcriptions…. I planned to use those, the lives that would have been saved with the medical knowledge alone—“
“Jack,“ Frances said.
“I was getting teams together. We were going to start right after Christmas.”
“Jack.”
“Weapons. There was a lot about weapons in those transcriptions. I just can’t remember the details enough to know if it’s feasible to make them.”
“Jack! I have the transcriptions,” Frances said.
“That’s impossible. I know they were in that briefcase Cooper took.”
“Those were the originals. I made a copy I was going to give you in two days for your Christmas present.”
“Christmas present?” Jack’s voice quivered with relief.
“Yes, I didn’t know what else to get you. Besides, we were moving so fast when we were doing it; the original copy had a lot of my own personal abbreviations, quite a few as a matter of fact. Between those and how bad my handwriting got at the end, I’m not sure how legible or intelligible they will be, especially for someone from 1856.”
“Frances, I could kiss you.”
“Afraid not. That’s your other Christmas present and you don’t get that for two days.”
“I’m going to grab a few of the guys and we’re going to go pay Bob Cooper a little visit. I’ve got to get tha
t money back, and the iPhone and transcriptions, too.”
“You’re not going without me. We can take my wagon and I don’t care how many men you get to come along. You are going to stop at the sheriff’s office first.”
Cooper had moved out and either had taken everything or sold everything he owned. Jack rode up with Frances, four men, the Sheriff and a deputy. A butcher named Thomas Sigg was moving into Bob Cooper’s shop and apartment above it. He said he’d purchased the shop from Cooper two days before. After a little investigating they found Cooper had purchased the small skiff they had seen him sailing, but other than that he’d completely vanished.
The sheriff issued an arrest warrant and Jack hired a bounty hunter. He wasn’t as worried about the money as he was about the transcriptions and iPhone.
CHAPTER 43
December 1856
Christmas at Jack’s
Jack had had so much work done that Frances's old house was barely recognizable. Although it was barely furnished, it was the depository for every 21st
century bit of technology he and his team had invented. It was tough, but he did find a fifteen-foot Christmas tree, and with a little trimming, it just fit into his cathedral-ceilinged living room. He popped and strung popcorn, gathered bits of shiny colored metal from the machine shop, bought multi-colored bows from a dress shop in the city, and decorated the tree in secret. The mantle, the doors, and every window were decorated with evergreen boughs. Holly sprigs and poinsettias were in every room. The most impressive decoration was the dozens of brightly wrapped presents he had gathered and placed under the giant Christmas tree.
The only invited guest with any idea of what was in store was Charles Goodyear’s wife Clarissa. She and Jack had been cooking for two days. He had more food than anyone could consume, but he enjoyed cooking and this was going to be a special feast. For Christmas Eve, Clarissa was making fried fish, corn bread and frosted Christmas cookies. When everyone gathered Christmas morning, they would sit down to eight different kinds of sausage, mustard, horseradish, four different types of bread, hash browns, and eggs. Later for Christmas dinner, they would have turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, biscuits, and cranberry sauce. For the dessert, he planned pumpkin pie and ice cream and would send everyone home with leftovers.