Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2)

by John A. Heldt

  "It's you," Amanda said as her eyes grew wide. "You're … you're him!"

  The old man shrugged.

  "Most people call me Albert, but 'him' will do."

  "Dr. Einstein, this is my granddaughter, Amanda," Elizabeth said. "She is a recent graduate of the University of Illinois and a big fan of yours."

  Einstein stood up and extended a hand.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Amanda."

  Amanda took the hand and gave it a tepid shake. She wasn't sure she had the strength to do more than remain on her feet.

  "Take a seat and grab some coffee, honey," Susan said with a laugh. "Dr. Einstein has graciously agreed to join us for breakfast. He'll be here a while."

  Amanda snapped out of a stupor as she digested her mother's words. She watched Einstein sit down and then pulled up a chair opposite him at the table for four.

  She took a moment to study the man and found him to be exactly as advertised: disheveled, uncombed, and a little distracted. He wore a shaggy blue sweater, baggy gray pants, and hair that wouldn't quit. Even at age sixty, he looked like his caricature.

  Amanda couldn't see if he had worn socks, but she was pretty sure he hadn't. She had heard stories, even from Kurt, that the famed scientist never wore them.

  "So tell me, young lady, what did you study at the University of Illinois?" Einstein asked with a thick German accent.

  "I studied history and political science," Amanda said.

  "I see. What do you hope to do with such an education?"

  "I want to work for a research organization and then go from there. I haven't decided what I want to do in the long term. I need to think about it more."

  Einstein nodded.

  "Research is good. Thinking is good. As I tell my colleagues at the Institute, we need more thinkers and fewer talkers."

  Amanda laughed at the observation. She had been told that Einstein had a sense of humor and was delighted to learn that she had not been misled.

  She didn't need to ask where he worked. She already knew he was a fixture at the Institute for Advanced Study, a postdoctoral research center in Princeton that rivaled the Nassau Institute and offered programs in historical studies, mathematics, natural sciences, and social sciences.

  "My mom thinks that too," Amanda said. "She thinks the world needs more people who use their minds and fewer who flap their gums. Did she tell you she's a writer?"

  "No. She did not," Einstein said. He turned to Susan. "What do you write?"

  Susan shot her daughter a thanks-for-putting-me-on-the-spot glare. She sipped her coffee, took a breath, and then smiled sweetly at her guest.

  "I write steamy romances," Susan said.

  "Is that so? I will have to look for your books."

  "Let me know when you find them," Susan said. She laughed. "I haven't published them yet."

  "Oh."

  "She's also helping an admiral write a book on the U.S. Navy," Amanda said.

  "Really?" Einstein asked.

  Susan nodded.

  "I'm assisting Jack Hicks with his latest work. Perhaps you've heard of him."

  "I have," Einstein said. "How are you assisting him?"

  "I'm reworking his prose to make it more understandable to a general audience. He's the actual writer," Susan said. "I'm more like a volunteer editorial assistant."

  "I am impressed," Einstein said. "You are giving and not taking. Most writers I meet only want to take. Take. Take. Take. They pester me endlessly."

  "How do they pester you?"

  "They write to me asking for help. Some come to my door."

  "What kind of help do they want?" Susan asked.

  Einstein buttered a roll. He had eaten three since Amanda had entered the room.

  "They wish to know about time travel, of course," Einstein said. "They all want to know about time travel. They want to know if it is really possible."

  Amanda sat up in her chair and watched Elizabeth and Susan sit up in theirs. She could see that the professor had everyone's attention.

  "Do you think time travel is possible?" Amanda asked.

  Einstein shrugged.

  "Yes. No. Maybe. It is all relative."

  Amanda laughed.

  "That's pretty funny. You should work the clubs."

  "Hmm?"

  Amanda smiled and shook her head. When she saw that Einstein seemed more interested in his next roll than answering her question, she tried again.

  "I thought your special theory of relativity proved that time travel, at least forward time travel, was possible."

  "It is possible," Einstein said.

  "Do you believe that backward time travel is possible?" Amanda asked.

  Einstein shook his head.

  "No. I am afraid that is a horse of a different color."

  Amanda smiled. She didn't know which was more impressive: Einstein's incorrect answer or his command of American idioms. She liked both. She had learned more about the man in ten minutes than she had learned in the previous ten years.

  Amanda glanced at her mother and her grandmother and saw grins on their faces. She could only imagine what they were thinking.

  "Do you think backward time travel will ever be possible?" Amanda asked.

  "I do not," Einstein said.

  "Even in the very distant future?"

  The visitor again shook his head.

  "Sadly, I think even that is unlikely," Einstein said. "If men of science possessed such power a hundred years from now, then surely they would be with us now."

  Amanda looked at the physicist and smiled.

  "I think you're right, Dr. Einstein. They would," Amanda said. "They most certainly would."

  CHAPTER 52: ELIZABETH

  Sunday, April 23, 1939

  Elizabeth aimed her Brownie Special at the baby in the high chair and snapped five pictures. She took five because she didn't trust a camera without a digital display. She took pictures, period, because she wanted the memento of a lifetime.

  "How did I do, Lizzie?" Elizabeth asked. "Did I take a winner?"

  The baby squealed and pounded her fists on her tray.

  "I think you have your answer, Mom," Susan said with a laugh. "Why don't you take more pictures just to be safe?"

  "No," Elizabeth said. "Why don't you take more? I want some pictures with the princess."

  "All right."

  Elizabeth handed the camera to her daughter, showed her how to use it, and then walked to the back of the high chair. When Susan lifted the camera, Elizabeth leaned close to Lizzie, smiled, and said "cheese" on command. She repeated the process four times and then listened as Susan, Amanda, Erich, Ella, and Kurt sang "Happy Birthday" to one girl marking her first birthday and another her seventy-ninth.

  "Now that's what I call singing," Elizabeth said.

  She kissed Lizzie on the head and joined the adults at a picnic table on the back patio. She tried to remember if she had photos of her first birthday but ultimately decided it didn't matter. She had new pictures now and new memories and would hold onto them for as long as she lived.

  Elizabeth sat with Susan and Amanda on one side of the table, which Erich had built in March. Ella, Erich, and Kurt faced them on the other side. Lizzie sat in her high chair a few feet from her mother. She tore into a piece of chocolate cake that Ella had put on her tray.

  "I would love to borrow the negatives if your photos turn out," Ella said to Elizabeth. "Would you provide them to me?"

  "I'll do better than that. I'll order prints. I want you to have at least a few pictures of us."

  "Thank you."

  "Don't mention it," Elizabeth said. "It's the least I can do for you for allowing me to be a part of your wonderful child's life."

  Ella reached across the table and put her hand on Elizabeth's arm.

  "I am the one is who is indebted. I do not know how I would have managed to get through these past few months without your help. I feel blessed to have family here."

  Elizabeth smiled
as she pondered Ella's words. She wondered how Ella Wagner, the original Ella Wagner, had managed to get through the first few months of 1939 without the active and eager assistance of three time-traveling neighbors. She imagined that she had simply tapped into her bottomless reservoir of patience, strength, and understanding.

  "How are you adjusting to Princeton?" Elizabeth asked.

  "We are adjusting well," Ella said.

  Elizabeth turned her head.

  "Erich?"

  "I agree with Ella. I feel like we have finally found a home," Erich said. "I feel like we are Americans now and not simply Austrians shuffling from place to place."

  "It sounds to me like you want to stay."

  "We do," Erich said. "Whether we can, of course, depends on whether I am hired as a full-time professor in the fall, but I am optimistic. I believe I will get the position I seek and that we will be able to remain in Princeton for many years."

  "I'm happy for you," Elizabeth said. "I'm happy for all of you. I admire your ability to integrate yourselves in a new country and a new community so quickly."

  "Thank you."

  "I also admire how you and Ella have worked as a team. You haven't disagreed once on a matter of importance."

  Erich laughed.

  "That is not quite true."

  "What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

  "We disagreed on a matter of importance just this morning," Erich said.

  "Oh? What was that?"

  "Ella and I disagreed on what kind of pet to get for Lizzie. She would like to get her a cat. I would like to get her a dog."

  Elizabeth laughed. If Eric and Ella Wagner could find nothing better to argue about than the choice of a pet, they were doing as well as anyone.

  Elizabeth turned to Ella.

  "Why do you want to get a cat?"

  Ella smiled.

  "They are less work. They are also cleaner, friendlier, and much better with children."

  "I see," Elizabeth said. She turned to Erich. "Why do you want to get a dog?"

  Erich laughed.

  "That is a silly question. I want to get a dog for the same reason that most people want to get a dog. They are superior pets. They are perfect companions."

  Elizabeth glanced at Susan. She wanted to see if she was following the Great Pet Debate and was disappointed to see that she was not.

  Susan discussed another matter with Amanda and Kurt. The three went over the details of a multi-family trip to the World's Fair in New York the following week.

  Elizabeth let her mind drift. She thought about the things she wanted to do on that trip when Ella brought her back to a more pressing concern.

  "Do you have an opinion?" Ella asked.

  "What?" Elizabeth replied.

  "Do you prefer cats or dogs?"

  "I would like your thoughts too," Erich said. "What do you suggest?"

  Elizabeth cringed. She didn't want to answer the question. She didn't want to come between her parents, but she knew she didn't have a choice. Ella and Erich would press her for an opinion until she provided one.

  Elizabeth knew the right answer. The right answer was a golden retriever that had just been born in Princeton Junction. Elizabeth remembered that her parents had adopted the puppy shortly after her first birthday and kept him as a pet for fourteen years. She couldn't imagine Lizzie going through life without the dog.

  "I suggest that you compromise," Elizabeth said. "I advise that you get a dog first and then a cat. Give Lizzie the best of both worlds."

  Erich beamed.

  "You are wise beyond your years."

  Elizabeth laughed.

  "That's saying a lot since I'm older than half the buildings in town."

  "I mean it though," Erich said.

  Elizabeth acknowledged the compliment with a nod. She paused for a moment to consider what she had done and then turned to her mother.

  "Does that solution work for you?" Elizabeth asked.

  "It does," Ella said. She sighed. "You are right. Lizzie should have a dog and a cat."

  Elizabeth smiled. With a few choice words, she had offered a constructive solution, resolved a family dispute, and given Lizzie Wagner something that Elizabeth Wagner had always wanted growing up: a cat.

  "What kind of dog do you suggest?" Erich asked.

  "I recommend you get a golden retriever," Elizabeth said. "They are excellent family dogs. I know because I had one growing up."

  "What a coincidence. I was considering that very breed. Do you know where we can find one in this area?"

  "You can find them in a lot of places. Check the classified ads in the paper. Check them today. I suspect you will find something worthwhile very soon."

  "I will do that," Erich said. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  Elizabeth smiled at Erich and Ella and then turned to the girl in the high chair, a girl who had smeared chocolate war paint on her cherubic face. She laughed to herself when the baby, her diaper-wearing soul mate, answered her grin with one of her own.

  We did well today, Little One. We did very well.

  CHAPTER 53: SUSAN

  Queens, New York – Sunday, April 30, 1939

  Susan could barely see the lectern, much less the man behind it, but she could see enough to know she was seeing something special. The speaker was no mere policy expert on loan to the Nassau Institute. He was the president of the United States.

  She settled into her folding metal chair, closed her eyes for a moment, and did nothing but listen. Even through a rudimentary amplification system, the clipped, aristocratic voice of Franklin Delano Roosevelt sounded like music.

  "I have seen only a small fraction of the fair; but even from the little I have seen, I am able to congratulate all of you who conceived and planned the fair and all you men and women who built it . . ."

  Susan put her hand on Jack Hicks' knee, patted it twice, and whispered into his ear.

  "I feel like I'm watching a newsreel," Susan said. "This is amazing."

  "It is," Jack said softly.

  A fortyish woman sitting one row up and two seats down turned her head and glared at the gabbers. The woman, attired in a velvet suit and a lace-netting pillbox hat, stared at Susan like she was a noisy tramp from Brooklyn or, worse yet, a Republican.

  Susan politely smiled, gently waved her gloved hand, and then stuck out her tongue. When the woman huffed, turned up her nose, and returned her attention to the speaker, Susan laughed quietly, took Jack's hand, and spoke again into his ear.

  "I seem to have stirred a bee in a bonnet."

  Jack smiled.

  "It appears so."

  Susan focused again on the stage. She couldn't make out the dignitaries seated on each side of the lectern, but she knew from the introductions that they included Mayor Fiorello La Guardia, Governor Herbert Lehman, and the estimable Dr. Einstein. Though all were men of stature, all seemed insignificant compared to the man behind the microphone.

  Susan leaned toward Jack.

  "Have you met FDR in person?"

  Jack nodded. He leaned toward Susan.

  "I met him once when he was Assistant Secretary of the Navy and again last year at a reception in Washington. He's even more impressive up close."

  "I believe it," Susan said.

  Susan scanned the crowd in the Court of Peace, the large plaza with the ironic name, and beheld the witnesses to history. She saw men in suits and fedoras and women in dresses and berets. She saw America in its Sunday finest on one of it finest days.

  Then she looked closer to home, in her own row, and saw a group of family, friends, and acquaintances that only a fiction writer could love. Amanda, Dot Gale, and the entire Schmidt family sat to her left. Jack, Elizabeth, and the entire Wagner family sat to her right. Ella kept Lizzie quiet with a bottle the size of Newark.

  The journey to the World's Fair had begun Saturday afternoon when the Mercer Street families and Dot had driven to their hotel in midtown Manhattan. They joined Jack for
breakfast the next morning and then proceeded together to the fairgrounds in Flushing Meadows, where the Germans and thousands of others from around the world awaited.

  Susan planned to make the most of the fair's opening day and the four that followed. She had talked Elizabeth, Amanda, and Dot into staying the week by arguing that they would never again have the chance to see an exposition as magnificent. Only Elizabeth offered even a feeble objection. She didn't care much for crowds.

  Susan could relate. She didn't care much for crowds either and typically put up with them only at Cubs games, parades, and significant public events. She had long decided that the New York World's Fair, the first held in the nation's largest city, was significant enough to merit several days and many dollars.

  If she had one regret, it was that she would not have the chance to see Jack again until Friday. She wanted to get back to working on his book. She wanted to get back to him.

  She had thought about Jack a lot since he had revealed his painful past, kissed her for the first time, and indicated that he wanted their friendship to be more than a friendship. She thought about what he had done, what he was doing, and what he wanted to do.

  Susan knew the future was the problem. She could no more start a long-term relationship with a man now, at least in good conscience, than she could start a long-time job. She was a time traveler, a woman with a secret, a person who would disappear from 1939 in less than five months. At least that's what she thought she would do.

  She hated this part. She hated knowing that she would have to walk away from people she had come to know, respect, and even love. She once again tipped her hat to Geoffrey Bell, who had warned her against getting too involved with the people she met.

  Susan thought about her uniformed admiral for a moment and then thought about his predecessor, a man who still haunted her thoughts. She liked to think that her problem with Jack was simply a chronological one, but she knew it was more than that.

  She still had not removed the clutter in her heart to make room for someone else. She still had not come to grips with her past, her dead husband, and a life she missed.

  "Are you all right?" Jack asked. "You seem preoccupied."