"I think you'll pass," Fitzhugh said, nodding. "It will make travelling easier, less stressful, without the encumbrance of so much fabric."
"Yes, I think so, too," Philo added. "If you were staying for any length of time, I'd say no, but since this is a quick test for Peter and Elani, and you and Kipp are along as shotgun, it seems reasonable to do so in comfort and ease."
"All I have to do is supply them both with clean undergarments, a fresh shirt or two, perhaps, and they will be good to go," Suzanne commented, standing back and tilting her head from side to side as she stared at my too large backside. "But I've got to do something to contain this," she said, gesturing with my hands.
I rolled my eyes as Philo tried not to laugh. Fitzhugh felt no such constraints and erupted into a fit of laughter. I'd never seen him in state of such utter enjoyment.
"I'm glad everyone is enjoying my big caboose," I muttered as I stared at a far wall.
"I'm working on making it appear smaller," Suzanne said, answering in a literal way while managing to complete miss the sarcastic nuance of my statement.
In the end, Peter and I were nicely dressed and would carry a couple of changes of undergarments and clean shirts in backpacks that could be reversed to appear as a travelling valise. I'd used such a conveyance in the past, but mine had become pretty tattered from all the hard travel. The new one would function in the same manner, but the reverse fabric was a neutral wool tweed that was less flashy than the materials used in my previous carpetbag. To conceal our funds, Suzanne duplicated the money collar that Kipp wore, making one for Elani, while Peter wore a money belt. Suzanne created some wide suspenders for me that helped to conceal my feminine attributes, and on the underside of the back of the braces was a cleverly concealed slip for currency. At my final fitting, I fingered the gold stick pin at my throat; a tiny ruby gem winked back at me, its facets caught in the light.
"Is this real or a reproduction?" I asked, removing it from my tie to better examine it.
"Real, so don't lose it, please," Suzanne answered firmly. She was happy because she'd managed, through the use of exercise type compression fabric, to subdue my female curves and with the frock coat, which hung to my knees, I'd pass. My biggest challenge would be to contain my hair up under the hat.
"Did men ever wear their hair really long?" I asked. "Why couldn't I just put it in a ponytail and let it hang?"
"You don't want to draw attention, and no, they usually didn't." She sighed and sat down in her work chair, which squeaked as she rocked back. "Peter is growing some whiskers to fit the style of the day, so you'll be his baby face brother. I can try to come up with a wig, and we could do that, since you don't want a buzz cut."
I poo pooed that idea, not liking the thought that my fake hair risked become awkwardly dislodged during the midst of a sensitive moment. That, if it happened, would be more difficult to explain away than my long hair. My voice was not high but neither was it very low in tone. I'd just let Peter handle the dialog.
The timing was set for us to leave on April 9, since the actual train event took place on April 12. That would give us the flexibility of a couple of days in case the target was missed, and it probably would be. The chance of us hitting an exact date, even with the amazing Kipp, was pretty low. The plan was for us to engage a couple of hotel rooms and hide out, as unobtrusively as possible, until time to board the General as paying passengers. I'd already argued over the issue with the lupines, since there was probably no way the conductor, William Fuller, would allow dogs to ride in a passenger car.
"We might end up in the boxcar," I said.
"I think if we pay enough and are content with the boxcar, we can persuade him." Peter was sitting at my desk in the library. I'd pushed aside my manuscripts, and we were enjoying cups of coffee. "The trains were pretty full and sometimes people rode in the boxcars as well as on top of the passenger cars."
"Why not just travel to Big Shanty and observe the train abduction from there? Then you don't have to worry about it!" Fitzhugh posed emphatically, as if he had closed the matter. He'd claimed his favorite chair while sipping the hot coffee, a rarity for him, since afternoon was definitely tea time in his book.
"Peter wants to ride the train," I explained, noting Fitzhugh's raised eyebrows. "And so do I. It will be a rare chance to experience that particular event." I felt a need to give my novice friend a little cover.
"There is always the unexpected when time shifting," Fitzhugh remarked with a nod. "Such things help to create the adaptability needed."
A time shift was always preceded by a leaving party. On April 8, Philo, his wife Claire, Suzanne, Peggy and, unexpectedly, Peter's mother, whom I'd not met, arrived. Fitzhugh helped me prepare a pan of vegetable lasagna, French bread and salad; he showed an unusual talent and baked a chocolate cake, too. The lupines, who lacked the digestive issues with chocolate as did canines, helped to finish the entire cake.
I was subjected to the usual leaving party roast; since Peter had no history, he was left relatively unscathed, as were Kipp and Elani. When Philo revealed one previously untold story about me, I excused myself and retired to the kitchen so that my reddened face could return to its pre-humiliation color. I was surprised to see Peter's mother had followed me, and lingered, hesitantly in the doorway.
"I wanted to speak with you privately, if you don't mind," she said, her voice soft so that we would not be overheard.
"Philo embellished that story," I remarked defensively, certain she was horrified her dear son was travelling to parts unknown with a scoundrel such as me.
Peter's mother was a delicately built female, barely reaching five feet in height. She was pretty, and I could easily see where Peter got his good looks. I indicated a chair at the table, and she joined me.
"Peter told me that you are aware of my reluctance over his, uh, vocation," she began. Her eyes were brown, like Peter's, and I noticed they began to water with emotion as she folded and unfolded her hands in her lap. "But I have come to realize this is important to him, and if I try to stand in his way, he'll resent me." Evelyn, as she was called, tilted her head to the side and smiled, her lips slightly tremulous. "He's such a good son," she added. "I need you to promise me you'll bring him back safely," Evelyn said, as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
Kipp was in my thoughts, and I heard and felt his alarm at such a request, which was unreasonable and forced me into a promise I could not make.
"Evelyn, I know of your history with your father and understand why this is so difficult. All I can promise is that Kipp and I will do everything possible to bring both Peter and Elani back successfully. But I can't guarantee that will happen, since travelling is unpredictable, as you know."
She nodded her head and stared at a point on the wall just over my right shoulder. After a moment, she sighed and managed a weak smile. "That's good enough," she said. "I'd have known you were not being truthful if you had promised me the impossible."
I had been prepared to not like her, based on Peter's conflicted feelings about her domineering attitude. But after understanding her heart and journey, I found that I sympathized with her worry and pain. It said a lot that she managed to make herself come to Peter's leaving party. Leaning forward, I held out my hands and she placed hers in mine; her slender fingers with their gracefully tapered tips were surprisingly cold. I squeezed her hands gently, pressing my warmth against her chilled flesh.
"Let's go back and see what else Philo can come up with," I said, smiling.
"Was that story true?" she asked, a frown on her face.
"Not a bit of it," I lied.
Chapter 15
Peter retired to the guest bathroom to dress, while I did the same in the privacy of my bedroom. Kipp padded quietly after me and watched with his critical eye as I pulled on the layers of clothing. It was still more than my typical t-shirt and sweat pants but, nevertheless, a great advancement from the dreaded crinoline and corset. Kipp drew his lips back from hi
s teeth and grimaced as I buckled his collar around his massive neck.
"I hate this thing," he whined.
"Oh, come on, you get off lightly. Look at what I have to do," I said, as I fumbled with the dark blue necktie. It took me several attempts to get it the way I wanted before I added the stick pin. Turning, I checked out my appearance in the full length mirror and felt some satisfaction that my rear end was cleverly concealed. Everyone would be happy, I thought dismally.
Fitzhugh made arrangements to spend the night with Philo and Claire, taking Juno and Lily with him. We could not risk any telepathic distractions and travelling was best done in a quiet environment. If it had just been me and Kipp, it wouldn't have mattered, but Peter and Elani were a little nervous.
It was time, and Kipp and I made the walk to the living room; Peter had arrived ahead of me and closed the plantation shutters so we would not be visible. I looked over at the fireplace and thought, a little too late, that I should have had the chimney cleaned since April had arrived.
"You'll take care of that when you get back," Kipp said, confidently.
Peter looked much more the part than did I. He'd grown, as Suzanne promised, a carefully groomed mustache and goatee, both of which aged him nicely. The coat, which hung past his knees, made him appear taller and accentuated his rangy frame. Stretched across his vest was a gold chain, something I didn't recall having been issued by Suzanne.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the adornment.
Smiling, he pulled a large, gold watch from a little pocket on the front of the dark gray vest he wore. After hesitating, he held it out for me to cradle in my hands; with care, I pushed the stem and watched the front cover swing open. It was a lovely piece with delicately engraved initials in an ornate script on the interior.
"My mother gave it to me to take," Peter said, his voice soft. "It was her father's–my grandfather's–and she wanted me to carry it on this time shift." After a moment, he added, "She made me promise I'd bring it back safely."
Of course, that was her code language for wanting Peter to come home in one piece. In any case, it was a fine gesture, one that indicated her trust and belief in her son. Kipp's eyes opened wide as he stared at the piece.
"Uh, oh," he said to me. "I hope nothing bad happens to that watch, or she'll be mad at us... particularly you."
"It's wonderful," I said to Peter, ignoring Kipp, who tilted his head at me. "It was very supportive of your mom," I added, pausing a moment to glare at Kipp.
The four of us sat cross legged on the floor, breathing deeply and evenly, before I lay back so that Kipp could nestle next to me, his head across my chest. After watching us, Peter and Elani copied our movements, and shortly thereafter there was silence in the room with the exception of deep breathing. My thoughts darted to Lily, and I was grateful Philo had allowed her to stay one night at his house. All we needed was Lily racing through the house, jumping on Kipp and biting his ears while he tried to concentrate.
We decided, since Elani felt she had captured the aura of the area and the time, that she would lead, with careful monitoring by Kipp. He was confident he could change our trajectory if needed. With that in mind, we collectively focused on 1882 Atlanta and felt the rushing sensation as if we were hurtling though space, our bodies accelerating to almost impossible speeds. And in the blink of an eye, we were there.
I heard a groan; Peter was to my left, he and Elani, and we seemed to be in an alleyway behind a large, two story red brick building. The only illumination came from a silver sliver of the moon above and a few scattered oil lanterns propped on tables in front of the rear windows of the building. Automatically, I reached out for Kipp, and he was at my side, steady and calm as always. He'd already turned on his telepathic radar and was busy canvassing the area.
"Are you okay?" I asked Peter. Wordlessly, he nodded but was rubbing his head. He'd sat up too quickly and banged his forehead on a wooden crate that sat at a precarious angle on a piece of siding. Elani's eyes were bright, her head up, tail wagging.
"As soon as you can stand, let's check it out," I said, taking a moment to work the kinks out of my back and my left leg. Somehow I'd managed to land as if I were doing a seated "herkie", my leg angled back behind me. Yeah, that was gonna be sore by tomorrow. Whatever tomorrow was...?
Peter actually got to his feet before I did and leaned down to give me a hand. Yes, the left knee was a little sore but it seemed to work okay, so I played the part of the brave symbiont and walked in a circle, squatted a couple of times and did a cat-walk turn, stopping once to pose, my chin up, to the soft laughter of Peter, who couldn't help but grin.
"Back to normal," I declared cheerfully.
Kipp, meantime, stretched fore and aft before shaking himself hard, as if he was clearing his head as well as resetting his body. He gazed up at me, wagging his tail to signal he was unharmed.
"I feel like I've been dragged across the floor board of a Greyhound bus," Peter grumbled, rubbing his head. "It hasn't felt this rough before," he added, staring at me accusatorily, as if I'd held back some mystical secret to the fountain of youth or something along those lines.
"We haven't gone this far back in time before," I said. "The longer the journey, the worse it feels."
I knew Kipp hated the bondage of the leash as did Elani, but we were forced to play the part of gentlemen who observed the niceties. My buddy ducked his head slightly as I clipped on the leather lead. Elani took it in stride, her head up, fur bristling with excitement and enthusiasm.
"Youngster," Kipp said to me, shaking his head at her attitude.
We spent a few minutes unloading our back packs, reversing them, and repacking our meager belongings in what seemed to be conventional carrying bags. Peter posed while I checked his attire, straightening his tie which was askew. He did the same for me, taking care to not overly inspect my chest or behind.
The four of us walked to the end of the alley and paused to get our bearings. We knew that the conductor for the General, Bill Fuller, had a room at the Washington Hall hotel on Lloyd Street. Thinking it might be a hoot to stay where he resided, we asked a passerby, who seemed more than a little intoxicated, for directions and managed to find our way through the gas-lit streets to the correct location. We didn't mind walking a little, since it cleared our heads; the packed dirt roads held puddles of moisture, and the high humidity was cloying; fortunately the temperature was pleasantly cool, and I was grateful we'd not arrived in the midst of a stereotypical blast furnace hot Georgia summer.
I'd made countless journeys back and forth but arriving at my destination never lost that sense of novelty. My own birth, in 1604, had occurred on the European continent. Unlike humans, symbionts did not have ethnic or cultural affiliations. My formative years, before I was allowed to bond and travel, were spent moving around so that the locals would not become suspicious of the family and those with whom we travelled. In some ways, we were considered tribal, much like gypsies, and the locals despised us out of fear and misunderstanding. The idea of symbiont collectives had evolved in the modern age and provided more security and guidance than in old times. Our culture, like that of humans, was constantly evolving. We kept walking and in a few minutes found ourselves standing at the front of Washington Hall, another two story red brick building.
Peter took the lead since he didn't have to conceal his, uh, essence, as did I, and boldly walked in through the large, double doors which were decorated by etched glass panels; chin up, he projected a mild air of arrogance. As we approached the front desk, Peter stared around the lobby as if he was slightly displeased but would make do with the less than superior accommodations.
"May I help you sirs?" the desk man asked. He looked bored, sleepy and more than ready to go home. He stared down at Kipp and Elani, both of whom sat politely.
There was a faint smell of lemon beeswax in the room, so at some point the wooden surfaces had been polished, although a fine layer of dust was collecting on exposed areas. It wo
uld have been impossible, considering the dirt roads, horses, wagons and other conveyances passing by, to keep the area free of dust. The lobby was neat, sparsely furnished, and empty of any people, which made me think it was either very late or very early... one or the other. The minimal furnishings probably indicated the owner of the hotel didn't want people loitering in his facility having meets and greets. We'd seen a few people on our way to the hotel, but I was suspicious that most of them were up to no good. Men were stumbling out of saloons, followed by women who wore brightly colored dresses and makeup applied with too heavy a hand to be the mark of good taste. Yes, I think I had their number. I could have used my telepathy, but some things are just evident and really require no additional clarification.
"We are in Atlanta on business and need two rooms," Peter said, trying to sound officious by dropping his voice a little. "Our dogs," he said, gesturing to the lupines, who looked both bored and innocent, "travel with us and are very well behaved. Of course, we will pay extra for the bother." His voice held such a dismissive tone that I half expected him to flick a piece of nonexistent lint from his lapel.
I did peek inside the mind of the clerk and realized that the hotel policy didn't address the dogs. But the clerk, an opportunistic soul, saw an effortless way to enhance his income. I guess I couldn't fault his entrepreneurial spirit since times could be hard. The man listed a figure, which was excessive, with the notion he'd pocket the extra. Peter, without complaint, handed over the currency, and the clerk called for a young boy to lead us to the second floor where we had rooms located side by side. Kipp had suggested I use the name "Samuel" as my travelling name, so Peter and I became the Keaton brothers. The boy took a moment to show us the water closet and an adjoining room with a large, cast iron hip bath with copper reservoirs for water which could be heated.
The Great Locomotive Chase, 1862 Page 15