Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2)

by John A. Heldt

Amanda stood up.

  "This is so weird," Amanda said. She looked at Elizabeth. "I hope seeing yourself doesn't blow a hole in the universe. That would be a nasty way to go."

  Susan laughed.

  "We'll be fine, honey. Professor Bell would have never allowed us to travel here had he thought we were capable of blowing a hole in the universe or anything else."

  "I hope you're right."

  "I'm right," Susan said. "I'm sure of it."

  Elizabeth smiled at Susan. She didn't think anyone could be sure of anything in these circumstances, but she was reasonably certain she would not create a cosmic catastrophe. If she had her way, she would do more than just see her infant self. She would hold her, play with her, and spoil her like she hadn't spoiled a child since Amanda was a baby.

  Amanda walked over to Elizabeth and threw an arm around her shoulders.

  "I must say I'm envious, Grams. I would give anything to see Dad again – or even Grandpa. You have an opportunity to do something special," Amanda said. She kissed Elizabeth on the head. "Make the most of it."

  "I'll try, dear."

  Amanda released Elizabeth and stepped to the window. She looked out at the street.

  "So what's there to do around here?" Amanda asked. "What does Princeton offer townies with time on their hands? Grandma?"

  "You're asking the wrong person," Elizabeth said. "I can tell you what we had in the forties and fifties, but not in the thirties. I barely remember the war."

  "Why don't you ask those boys you met Sunday night?" Susan asked. "I'm sure they would be happy to show you some things."

  Amanda turned away from the window. She stared at her mother and raised a brow.

  "I'm sure they would."

  Susan put her hands on her hips.

  "Amanda!"

  "Well? That's what boys do," Amanda said. "They show you their things and not much else."

  Elizabeth laughed.

  "That may be what boys do, but it's not what men do," Susan said with a straight face. "You can't indict half the human race because of a few bad experiences."

  Amanda sighed.

  "I know. I know. I shouldn't paint with a broad brush, but I'm finding it easy to do. It seems like every guy I meet wants the same thing. Just once I'd like to meet someone who noticed my brain before my other two thousand parts."

  "Good luck with that," Elizabeth said.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Amanda asked.

  "What it means, dear, is that men haven't changed since the Stone Age," Elizabeth said. "They are drawn to faces and figures. Even if you had an IQ of 170, they would still see you first as a beautiful woman. Your challenge is to find a man who appreciates all of your qualities and not just the ones he can see from the street."

  "It doesn't matter," Amanda said. "I don't plan to date here."

  "Why not?" Susan asked. "Professor Bell didn't say we couldn't date. He said only that we couldn't bring someone back. I see no reason why you can't have some fun."

  Amanda took a breath.

  "You're right. Maybe I'll look up Bill and Ted and have an 'excellent adventure' – or show up naked at a party," Amanda said. "I can't imagine a downside."

  "That's the attitude!"

  Amanda stared at Susan.

  "I'm joking, Mother."

  "I know, honey. I'm just teasing."

  Amanda shook her head. She paused a moment and then looked again at Susan.

  "What about you? What are you planning to do here? I know it's too soon to date again, but it's not too soon to make friends – even male friends. Are you going to get out and mingle or spend the next year watching Grandma teach herself to walk?"

  "I don't know. I haven't given the matter much thought," Susan said. She sighed. "I guess I'll just see what each day brings and go with the flow."

  "That's a good plan," Amanda said.

  Elizabeth grinned and shook her head.

  "Now that you two have set your social parameters, maybe we can focus on other things."

  "Like what?" Susan asked.

  "Like making this house a home," Elizabeth said. "It's time to go shopping!"

  CHAPTER 19: SUSAN

  Monday, November 7, 1938

  The time travelers spent money like it grew on trees. They bought tables, chairs, and beds on Thursday and Friday, dishes and groceries on Saturday and Sunday, and makeup and clothes on Monday. They didn't stop until Amanda put on a dress at a downtown boutique and proudly declared that the spree was complete.

  "Are you sure you want to declare victory?" Susan asked. "There's another store next door and several more on Nassau Street."

  "They can wait," Amanda said. "I want to see what more women are wearing before I buy anything else. I think I have enough dresses to get through the week."

  Elizabeth laughed.

  "You have enough to get through the year."

  "I suppose I do," Amanda said.

  "There's nothing wrong with that," Susan said. "You want to look your best for all the fine young men who will appreciate your fine young mind."

  Amanda smiled.

  "You're not helping, Mother."

  "Sure I am. I'm providing encouragement."

  Amanda stood in front of a full-length mirror and straightened her blue rayon dress, her final acquisition of the day. The pleated garment fell just past her knees.

  "I like this one best," Amanda said. She laughed. "I know I like the price."

  "I do too," Susan said. "I never thought I'd live to see a two-dollar dress. Then again, I never thought I'd live to see eight-dollar coats and fifty-cent shoes."

  Susan shook her head when she thought about how cheaply the three women had filled the rooms and cupboards of their three-bedroom house. They had spent only four hundred dollars on furniture, a hundred on clothes, and less than twenty on food.

  "Should I wear this out of the store?" Amanda asked.

  "Why not? You don't really want to crawl back into that frumpy sack, do you?"

  "No," Amanda said. "I guess not."

  "Then let's get it and go," Susan said. "Let's go see the town."

  The women paid for their purchases, walked out the door, and headed west toward the university. When they reached the leafy environs of Prospect Avenue, Susan ended several minutes of silence with a question.

  "Do you know the college well enough to give us a tour, Mom?"

  "I should hope so," Elizabeth said. "I used to walk through the campus at least once a week as a girl to see how the big kids had fun."

  "Then maybe you can tell us about some of these buildings."

  "Maybe I can. Try me."

  "All right. What's this one?" Susan asked. She pointed a narrow, nondescript brick structure. "It looks more like a business than a campus facility."

  "That's because it is a business," Elizabeth said. "That's Myers, Pendleton, and Simmons, one of the oldest continuously operating law firms in the United States."

  "How do you know that?"

  "I know it because my brother's best friend, Frederick Price, practiced law there for fifty years. He retired as a senior partner just last summer."

  "You mean the firm was still going in 2016?" Susan asked.

  "Yes," Elizabeth said.

  "Wow."

  "Things are old here, dear. They are a lot like me."

  Susan laughed.

  "What about the other buildings on this street? What about these big houses? They look like people places," Susan said. "Are they dormitories or fraternities?"

  "No. They're eating clubs – or at least they used to be."

  "Eating clubs?" Amanda asked. "What are eating clubs?"

  "They're clubs where people eat."

  "You should do stand-up, Grandma. I'm serious."

  "I'm serious too," Elizabeth said. "These are the places where students eat their meals, socialize, and study, though I didn't see much evidence of studying when I lived here as a kid."

  Susan giggled.

  "I'm sure you
didn't," Susan said. "Your answer begs a question though. If the students eat and socialize on this end of campus, where do they sleep? Where are the dorms?"

  "Most are farther ahead," Elizabeth said. She smiled. "The one I like best, though, is right in front of us."

  Susan slowed to a stop to take a better look at an imposing structure that seemed to shoot up out of nowhere. With turrets, arches, and sheer sides, the building looked more like an English castle than a dorm for American college students.

  "What's it called?" Susan asked.

  "Officially, it's 1879 Hall. I called it the Noise Factory."

  "It's noisy?"

  "It was when I lived here," Elizabeth said. "In fact, at certain times during finals week, it was downright cacophonous."

  "I don't understand. I thought people studied during finals week."

  "They do. They did here, too, at least until nine o'clock at night. Then the rowdies took a break and gave their more studious peers a Poler's Recess."

  "What's a poler?" Susan asked.

  "It's a person who studies too much," Elizabeth said. "Some students didn't want others to stick their noses in books all day, so they gave them a recess."

  Susan laughed.

  "What did they do?"

  "They made noise, of course," Elizabeth said. "They beat drums, pounded pans, blew horns, and set off firecrackers for several minutes. No one could study. No one could think. When I was a high school senior, I came here every night during finals week, with my girlfriends, to hear the ruckus and flirt with the boys. We had almost as much fun as the students."

  "Did you say this is the 1879 Hall?" Amanda asked.

  "I did," Elizabeth said.

  "So it was built in 1879?"

  "No. It was built in 1904."

  Amanda laughed.

  "That figures."

  "I know the year because my father often shared facts and stories he learned from his colleagues," Elizabeth said. "He loved telling me interesting things."

  Susan frowned as she listened. She was sad that Elizabeth had been unable to maintain the happy relationship with her father. She lowered her eyes as she thought about the grandfather she had never known.

  "Did Grandpa actually teach at Princeton?" Susan asked.

  "He did. He taught over there," Elizabeth said as she pointed to a building in the distance. "Come this way. I'll show you where he worked."

  As the women entered the heart of the campus, Susan noted the architecture and apparent age of each building. She could see that Princeton had rushed not to modernize but rather to preserve. It celebrated brick and wood and turned its back on glass, concrete, and steel.

  Five minutes later, the visitors gazed at a brick-and-wood building that stood next to a much larger one. With paned windows, arched doorways, and lavish ornamentation, it looked like the kind of place that fostered education.

  "This is where my father taught mathematics," Elizabeth said. "He taught math for ten years before taking a job with the government."

  "I'll bet he liked it here," Amanda said.

  "He loved it. He considered his work at Princeton his crowning professional achievement."

  Susan looked at Elizabeth and saw that she was starting to tire. So she guided her clan to a bench that offered a splendid view of a green space called the Prospect Garden.

  "Let's sit for a while, Mom. You've done a lot of walking today."

  "Yes, I have."

  When the women reached the bench, Susan cleared a space by wiping away several red and orange leaves that had settled on the seat. She helped her mother sit down and then picked up a campus newspaper that had fallen to the ground.

  "It looks like someone left us a copy of the Daily Planet," Susan said.

  "Is that the campus paper?" Amanda asked.

  "It must be. I see a lot of college news on the front."

  Susan examined the paper and laughed when she considered the content. No fewer than five sports articles occupied the front page. Even students and faculty at an academic powerhouse apparently needed to keep up on football.

  "What's so funny?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Oh, it's nothing. It's just that there's a lot of sports news on the front page," Susan said. "I didn't realize that Princeton was a football factory."

  Elizabeth smiled.

  "It is now."

  Susan laughed.

  "I guess it is."

  "I mean it," Elizabeth said. "Football is big here. It was big when I was growing up and big fifty to sixty years ago. The Tigers played in the very first game in 1869."

  Susan glanced again at the paper, saw a small article she had missed the first time, and shook her head. She looked at her mother.

  "You're right. They did play."

  "How do you know?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I know because this story mentions the game," Susan said. She pointed to the article. "The last member of the team that played in that game just died. He was eighty-seven."

  "That's sad," Amanda said.

  "The story says that the university will honor him at a game this Saturday. We should go to the game. Princeton is playing Yale."

  "Since when did you become a football fan, Mom?" Amanda asked.

  "Since I decided to do more than sit around the house," Susan said. "We should go. You want to meet people, don't you?"

  Amanda nodded.

  "You know I do."

  "Then it's set," Susan said.

  Susan smiled as she thought about Amanda's question. She was about as interested in football as the King of Siam, but she knew that the game would be a perfect opportunity to get out, mingle, and settle into their new community.

  Then Susan looked at Amanda and frowned. She could see from the expression on her daughter's face that she was preoccupied or confused.

  "What's the matter?" Susan asked. "You look baffled."

  "I guess I am," Amanda said. She turned her head. "I've been watching students go by for the past minute and noticed something."

  "What's that?"

  "There are no women. I haven't seen one since we left the dress shop."

  Elizabeth smiled.

  "You won't find any either – at least not on this campus."

  "Why? Have they been outlawed, Grandma?"

  Elizabeth laughed.

  "You might say that."

  "I don't get it," Amanda said. "What are you saying?"

  "What I'm saying, dear, is that Princeton did not admit women until 1969," Elizabeth said. "In 1938 it was, and is, a male domain."

  CHAPTER 20: AMANDA

  Saturday, November 12, 1938

  Fifteen minutes after finding a seat on the forty-yard line in Palmer Stadium, Amanda Peterson turned her attention to a riveting pre-game spectacle. She watched with amusement as Princeton cheerleaders – male cheerleaders – carried a tiny Pekinese across the field and prepared to give the lapdog, dressed in Yale blue, to the opposing team.

  They didn't get far. Mere seconds after the cheerleaders presented their counterparts with the unimpressive offering, Yale's mascot, a bow-legged, tongue-wagging, happy-go-lucky piece of work named Handsome Dan IV, turned the tables. The bulldog charged at the cheerleaders and the Pekinese and maintained the chase until the students and their mangy mutt beat a hasty retreat to the Princeton sideline.

  "This is hilarious," Amanda said as she broke into a laugh. She looked at her grandma, who sat to her right. "Do they do this before every game?"

  "I can't remember," Elizabeth replied.

  "They do when they can," someone else said.

  Amanda looked to her immediate left and saw a young woman look back.

  "Did you say something?" Amanda asked.

  "I did," the woman said. "I answered your question. The cheerleaders rarely pass up a chance to get the better of the other team's mascot. Sometimes they succeed. Sometimes they don't. They didn't succeed today."

  "I guess not," Amanda said. She laughed again. "That was really funny."

&nb
sp; "Is this your first football game?"

  Amanda nodded.

  "It's my first one here."

  The woman studied Amanda with curious eyes.

  "Are you visiting?"

  "I guess you could say that. My family and I just arrived from Chicago. We plan to stay for at least a few months."

  "Well, welcome to Princeton," the woman said. She offered a hand. "My name is Dot – Dot Gale. I grew up in Grovers Mill. Perhaps you've heard of it."

  Amanda laughed when she saw Dot's wry smile.

  "I think half the planet has heard of it. How are the Martians treating you?"

  "I wouldn't know," Dot said. "They left in a rush. Invaders tend to do that."

  Amanda smiled, took a closer look at her new acquaintance, and did a double take. With green eyes, a pretty freckled face, and shimmering long red hair, Dot Gale looked a lot like Sophie Sanders, Amanda's second roommate at the University of Illinois.

  "You're funny. I'm Amanda Peterson, by the way."

  "It's nice to meet you," Dot said. She leaned forward in an apparent effort to see the people at Amanda's side. "Is this your family?"

  "It is. They are. This is my mom, Susan, and my grandma, Elizabeth," Amanda said. She leaned back in her bleacher seat so that the women could exchange handshakes and pleasantries. "Grandma grew up in this area too. This is sort of a homecoming for her."

  "You grew up in Princeton?" Dot asked.

  "I did," Elizabeth said. "I spent my childhood on Mercer Street."

  Amanda gave her grandmother a nervous glance. She realized that she had given Dot too much information too soon and wondered how Elizabeth would finesse a "childhood on Mercer Street" that technically hadn't started.

  "You're pretty close to home then," Dot said. "Where do you live now?"

  Elizabeth smiled at Amanda and then looked at Dot.

  "We live on the same street."

  "Really? Wow. I'll bet that triggers a lot of memories."

  "You have no idea," Elizabeth said.

  "I would love to live in town and be able to walk to all this. I grew up on a farm and had to drive everywhere, when I could drive at all," Dot said. "My father rarely let me use his car. He rarely let me leave the house."

  Amanda laughed. She liked this woman already.