Emperors of Time (16 page)

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Authors: James Wilson Penn

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“Sure,” said
Billy with a smile.  “We can do that.  Now, if you tell me what kinds
of odds you have, we can get these bets placed before the games start.”

Billy had told
the others they should intentionally lose one or two bets to make sure that
nobody got suspicious or angry, but he was still fairly sure he could double
their money, or even triple it with little trouble. 

Richie took out
a notebook.  “I’ll just tell you some big name games.”  He looked at
the notebook for a moment.  “I’ve got about one to one odds on the
Missouri-Texas game.  Even on Army-Notre Dame, Washington-Oregon and Ohio
State-Wisconsin as well.  Are there any others you wanted specifically?”

“No, but what
happens if there’s a tie?” asked Billy.

“I’ve got a
couple people on each game betting on a tie.  Most people bet for a side
to win.  If there’s a tie and nobody bets on it, I give the money back to
the betters minus ten percent.  But if someone bets on the tie, then I
give them the money from both sides.  Of course, if multiple people bet on
a tie, I split the money depending on what they each put in,” said Richie.

“All
right.  Well, I’ll bet on Army, Wisconsin, and Missouri.  That’s
fifty cents each, is that enough of a bet per game?  I like to spread my
risk,” said Billy.

“You’re
fine.  Is that all?” asked Richie.

“No, I want to
bet fifty cents on the Washington-Orgeon game being a tie.  And…  Is
there any way I can bet on what score they’ll tie at?  I’ve got a quarter
left and a crazy hunch.”

“Hmmm…  I
don’t have anybody betting a score on that game.  But, you know… 
since you’re getting ready to get married, I suppose I can think about giving
you odds myself on that game.  A straight bet, commission free.  I’m
a gambling man myself, you know.”

Billy
grinned.  “Fair enough, sir.  Well, I think it’s going to be a tie at
zero.”

Richie scratched
his chin.  “I’ll give you three against one on that.  You know there
was a game this year where Oregon won by 97 points, don’t you?”

“Yes, I
know.  You don’t think I’m a football fan?  But this week the biggest
win will go to…  hmmm…  I’m going to say Penn State.”

“You got any
extra money?  I’d give you five against one on that one,” said
Richie. 

Billy pulled his
change from his pocket.  They had spent smaller change on other stuff
because they would have felt ridiculous trying to give pennies to a bookmaker,
so it was only nickels, dimes, and quarters that he pulled out now.  After
placing the other bets, it turned out he had ten cents left, which he eagerly
placed on the Penn State bet.  Tim hoped the girls were making out well at
the vegetable market, because they were buying the last food they would eat
until they were able to collect the money from the bets. 

Billy seemed to
be thinking the same thing, because he said, “So, when will we be able to pick
up our money if we win anything?” he asked.

“Well…  
the benefit to collecting money upfront is that there’s a pretty quick
turnaround.  We’ll have to wait for the evening newspaper to come out, of
course, but I’ll be at the Palace Hotel from about eight to midnight this
evening, they’re having a band play their ballroom.  And you see, my wife
is okay with gambling, but she does insist that I show her a night out every
once in awhile. If you’re there, I can get you any winnings you make
discreetly.  ‘Course you’re going to want to clean yourself up a little
before coming, kid, you look like a mess in that tattered shirt.”

Tim was pretty
impressed that Billy had been able to rattle all his bets off without having
any reference.  When they got out of the restaurant and started walking
over to the girls, Billy pulled his lists of bets from his pocket.  After
a moment of scanning the page, he wiped the sweat from his brow
dramatically.  “That’s good…  I only lost the bet I meant to. 
Ohio State’s going to win by a point.” 

Chapter 16
The Palace

 

At eight o’clock
that evening, Tim was feeling rather foolish wearing Billy’s jacket.  It
was quite a bit too big for Tim, although it did at least cover up the fact that
Tim’s shirt, as Richie had observed, was looking a bit tattered. 
Meanwhile, Billy was able to pull off his outfit without a jacket just fine,
helped by the fact that his shirt hadn’t been stabbed the day before.

Predictably, the
girls were pretty excited about going to the ballroom.  At least, Tim
thought it was predictable, and also a little tiresome.  Mostly he felt
this way because he was sour at this turn of events.  He was not good at
dancing. At least, that’s what he assumed, given that the last time he had
danced was at his cousin’s wedding four years ago, and he didn’t remember being
particularly good at it.  He had no reason to believe he had gotten better
at it since.

It didn’t take
long for them to spot Richie, and the boys decided to approach him when he went
into the barroom.  Tim had been almost disappointed when they spotted
Richie, since as long as they were looking for him, they had been wallflowers
at the dance, lurking around in the shadows hoping to get a look at him.

Actually, Tim had
been halfway hoping that they wouldn’t be able to get in, that maybe bouncers
would stop them at the door.  They were only sixteen and seventeen year
olds, and there would definitely be alcohol at this dance.  But
apparently, they were letting just about anybody into this particular party,
although they weren’t going to press their luck by trying to order
drinks. 

When Richie saw
the two boys, he smiled at them.  Tim supposed that since he had only been
personally involved in two of the bets Billy had won, he wasn’t all that miffed
at him. 

“I think you’re
my biggest winner of the day,” said Richie, as he handed them some bills. 
“Of course, I mean in terms of how many bets you won.  In dollar amount,
you’re still pretty small potatoes.  I have some people who place bets in
the hundreds.  But you did your fair share of damage with what you bet.”

Billy
smiled.  “I told you I had a hunch about Oregon-Washington.”

“That you did,”
agreed Richie.  “That was where you made most of your money.  Someone
else put fifty cents on a tie in that game, so you split the winnings with him,
but you still made five bucks on it, plus your side action with me.  All
told, you’re walking away with nine dollars.  You sure your wife won’t let
you gamble after next week?”

“Sadly, no,”
said Billy, and shook his head.  But the word ‘sadly’ hardly agreed with
his facial expression, or the one Tim was wearing as they wrapped up their
conversation with Richie and made their way back across the dance floor to the
girls.  Suddenly they had a few dollar bills in their pockets, and it felt
pretty good. 

Part one of
their mission had gone pretty well.  They would definitely be able to eat
until Tuesday and they might even be able to spring for a nicer room than the
YMCA for one or two of the nights.  Even Tim, who was now increasingly
aware that he was probably going to have to try to dance at some point in the
very near future was in a good mood.

The boys found
the girls back on the dance floor and, with their work done for the evening,
Billy almost immediately swept Rose off to dance.  The funny thing was
that in spite of the fact that the music was ragtime and the dances were like
nothing the teens had ever seen before, Billy picked up enough not to look
ridiculous almost immediately.  Rose, Tim noticed, looked ridiculous, but
seemed to be having a grand old time doing it. 

Tim, on the
other hand, as he looked away from Rose and Billy and toward Julie, was
standing almost still, except for the occasional shifting of his weight from
one foot to the other. 

Julie looked at
Tim sternly and said, “Oh, come on.  Stop looking uncomfortable.  We
are in a ballroom in the 1910s.  This is literally a once in a lifetime
experience, and you had
better
have a good time.”

Tim stammered
something unintelligible about how he was no good at dancing.

Julie
grinned.  “Okay, I was just joking.  You don’t
have
to have a
good time.  But if you just relaxed and had fun, you’d…  ya
know…  have more fun.”  She smiled.

Tim grinned back
in spite of himself.  Julie’s smile had always made him feel kind of warm
inside.  “Can’t argue with that logic, I guess,” he said with a
shrug. 

“Good!” she said
chirpily.  “So, listen… as a girl, I was born with the natural ability to
dance.”

Tim glanced over
at some of the moves that Rose was pulling off.

“Okay, well,
maybe not all girls are born with it,” acknowledged Julie.  “Although I do
have a natural sense of rhythm.  But, it’s looking to me like the idea
with the fast dances is almost just raucous movement.  Follow what everybody
else is doing, and just remember that a slow dance can’t be that far off.”

It looked to Tim
like it was a bit more than just random raucous movement, but he tried to copy
some of the exaggerated motions that those around him were making, most
specifically trying to do what Julie was doing.  After all, he was looking
at her anyway.  And looking at Julie was pleasant enough, in Tim’s
opinion, to make up for the unpleasantness of this whole dancing experience
more generally.

Julie was right
to think that a slow dance was coming, though, as the next song happened to be
one.  Tim had no particular idea what to do for a slow dance, either.

Julie seemed to
read this in his face and winked at him, “It’s okay.  Just follow my
lead…  Er, well, actually you’ll be leading, ’cause you’re the man and
that’s how it works.  But I’ll kind of lead you as you lead me.”

“What?” asked
Tim, as Julie placed his hands where they were supposed to go… one hand on her
hip and the other in her hand.

“Just relax,”
Julie instructed with a smile, and once again, her smile helped him along with
that.  He still had little or no idea what he was supposed to be
doing.  Still, by watching people around him and generally doing what
Julie did, he caught enough of it that no random observer would have noticed
that he was not only a bad dancer, but also from a different century. 

After they had
been dancing a little while, Tim finally worked up the courage to say, “You
look really pretty tonight.”

She smiled
warmly.  “You too,” she said sincerely.  Then she winced.  “No,
I mean, you look nice or whatever.  But seriously, you do.”

Tim
laughed.  “Wow.  Most awkward compliment return ever.  Good
thing you’re beautiful or people would really notice how awkward you are.”

Julie was blushing
a bit, but grinning.  “How come you can notice, then?  You’re immune
to my looks?”

Tim thought for
a second.  “Nah, I’m just especially adept at picking up awkwardness.”

“Kind of a takes
one to know one type thing?” asked Julie without missing a beat.

“Exactly,”
laughed Tim.

A little later,
Julie put her head on Tim’s chest as they danced.  They danced like that
for a bit, and it felt right… natural, somehow. 

At one point,
Julie looked up at him.  “You’re nice to dance with,” she said.

Tim was going to
respond, “You, too.”  But then he didn’t say anything at all. 
Instead, he bent down a little so their faces were close.  Then, he kissed
her, putting his hand on the back of her head to draw her in, kissing first
softly, then a bit harder. 

They didn’t talk
much about that kiss, either.  They just kept dancing.  It turned out
that he was okay with this.  Maybe they were the type of people who just
kissed every once in awhile.  They could talk about it some other
time…  Maybe in their own decade.

They danced for
awhile.  Tim even started to get halfway comfortable doing the fast
dances.  Even though he was still not overly sure of what he should be
doing and how he should move, Julie seemed to have a better instinctive grasp
of what to do.  This was lucky, because it gave Tim a good excuse to stare
at her, to mimic her moves.  She really did look quite pretty this
evening.

Eventually, Rose
came over and asked them if they wanted to go over to the barroom with her and
Billy and try to get some soda. 

 The
barroom was a little out of the way from the ballroom, so it was quieter, which
Tim thought was nice for a change.  Just about everyone in the room,
though, seemed to be men, many middle aged or older.  Not exactly the way
bars were portrayed on tv-shows from Tim’s own century. 

Upon further
inspection, there were only two women in the room, aside from Julie and
Rose.  These looked to be in their twenties and were handing out a small
piece of something to anyone who would take it.

This piqued
Tim’s curiosity, and after they got their drinks (bottles of Pepsi, which led
Tim to recall that he had once read somewhere that Pepsi had been invented late
in the nineteenth century and had more or less national scale distribution by
the 1910s), he watched to see what it was that they were handing out.

Soon, after a
rather confused and slightly tipsy man of about fifty took one of whatever they
were distributing, he came over toward them.  Tim saw what was in his hand
and gasped. 

“They’re handing
out buttons for Charles Hughes!” he whispered urgently to Julie.  He
realized a second later that whispering was maybe counterproductive.  It
was the week before a presidential election.  To anyone else, handing out
buttons for one of the candidates in a bar might be annoying, but it certainly
wasn’t suspicious.  Although maybe whispering about it would strike people
as a little off.

Either way,
Julie whispered back when she said, “So they probably know where we can find
other Hughes supporters.”

“Including maybe
someone who would…” Tim trailed off, but they both knew what he was talking
about. These women handing out buttons might be able to tell them where the
type of people who would stop at nothing to help their guy win might hang out;
people who, with a little extra incentive, might be convinced to set a bomb if
it would guarantee that their guy would win.

Julie and Tim
let Billy and Rose in on their idea, and Rose looked confused.  “I thought
most women were Wilson supporters.”

“Most, but not
all,” said Tim.  “Besides, if Hughes has
any
young female
supporters in San Francisco at all, this would be a good place to put them
tonight.  Slightly drunk men in a bar?  They’re not going to take a
button from a middle aged man nearly as quick as from a young attractive woman.”

Julie
laughed.  Tim looked at her and she said, “No, nothing…  Just you’re
calling
everyone
good looking tonight, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t-” Tim
said.

“Just joking,
just joking!” said Julie with a giggle.

“Alright, you
two.  Let’s focus on the task at hand.  We’re in the market for some
Hughes buttons, yeah?” asked Rose.  “And maybe we’d like to know where
there might be a rally for Hughes in San Francisco in the next two days?”

Julie stopped
laughing.  “Yeah.  And why don’t you boys let us take the lead on
this one?” she asked.  “They might be more eager to talk to other young
women.  After all, politics in the 1910s is even more of a men’s club than
it is today.  Er…  In
our
today.”

The four of them
went over to the women with the buttons, the two girls in the lead, although
Tim doubted if they were going to have any trouble getting the women to open
up.  They were political enthusiasts the weekend before an election. 
This was not a typically shy demographic. 

“Campaigning for
Hughes, I see?” asked Rose, as she approached.

The women turned
toward her immediately.  They seemed pretty excited to have someone
speaking to them on purpose, rather than having to ambush passers-by with their
buttons as seemed to be their normal procedure. 

“Yeah, we are,”
one of the women said to Rose.  She was really chirpy at first, but then
her face fell. “Oh…  you’re…  you’re not twenty-one, are you?”

Tim could have
smacked himself in the head.  He had forgotten that the voting age had been
twenty-one in 1916, and actually until pretty recently in American
history.  He and Billy had pulled off nineteen earlier that day, but not
even Billy could convincingly pretend to be twenty-one.

He was spared
the burden of deciding whether or not to try to lie about their age anyway by
an awkward moment from Julie, who stammered something like, “Twenty-one, uh,
we… uh-”

Rose mercifully
cut her off.  “Just turned eighteen.  But hey, it’s our country, too,
right?  And I’m not going to college so Germany can win the war and take
over France and England, am I?  Who will pay back the loans American
companies have already lent them, hundreds of millions of dollars?  I
mean, I know that Hughes isn’t gung-ho about getting us into war either, and I can
respect that, but, Wilson…  He kept us out of war all right, and he’ll
keep us out of war right into another recession if he has his way.  Hughes
is being quiet about it now, but I know when he gets into office, he’ll make
the right decision.”

The other woman,
the one who had not spoken yet, smiled warmly at Rose.  “You’re right, of
course,” she said.  “There are things that you can do to help out the
cause other than voting.  Of course, we wish you could vote, too,
but…  Like I say, there are other ways to help.  We’ll be knocking on
doors through Tuesday to get out the vote, and we’ll be holding an event
tomorrow…  In this very hotel, actually, in the ballroom.  We’re
getting together some prominent supporters of Hughes.  We’ve got a state
congressman and some other people big in the California Republican party.”

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