Fire, The (16 page)

Andy grabbed about a dozen of the slips, examined a few, and shuffled them into a stack. He handed the stack to Kevin.

"What's this?" Kevin asked.

"It's what I wanted to show you."

"You wanted to show me
this
?"

"Yes."

Kevin flipped through the slips and saw two- and three-sentence news dispatches. One, from Daytona, Florida, reported that Barney Oldfield had set a record by driving a car 131 miles per hour. Another, from Prussia, announced the passage of a suffrage bill.

"OK. This is interesting, but so are a lot of things."

Andy put a hand on Kevin's shoulder.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you see in those slips?"

"I see news reports."

"What else do you see?"

"I see paper that will end up in a garbage can tomorrow."

"I'll tell you what I see," Andy said. "When I look at those slips, I see a world in constant motion, a world that doesn't stop for a moment of leisure."

Kevin chuckled.

"That's pretty funny coming from a guy who hangs his hat at Maggie Ryan's and the Shooting Star."

"Touché," Andy said with a laugh of his own.

Andy retrieved the slips from Kevin and returned them to the table. He gave Charlie a quick wave, led Kevin out of the room, and shut the door.

"My point, Kevin, is that there's a lot going on out there. If I want to be a part of it, or at least be a part of something bigger and better than Wallace, Idaho, I'm going to have to work longer and harder than the next guy."

"OK. OK. I get it."

"Now, I know you didn't come here to ask me about my job. How are things at the school?"

"They couldn't be better. Morrison has cut me loose."

"He's done what?"

"He's allowing me to teach my classes the way I want to teach them, at least for now. He's given me a great deal of latitude."

"Well, that's a good thing."

"It is."

"So why are you here instead of back at the house?"

"I just wanted your opinion of Preston Pierce."

"I gave it to you," Andy said.

He led Kevin into the empty newsroom. A moment later, the two returned to their chairs and Andy went back to his manuscript.

"I'll say it again if you want me to," Andy said. "Pierce is a scoundrel. He's the most corrupt and vile person I've ever met. He's also one of the most powerful men in this town. You should steer clear of him."

Kevin frowned.

"That's easier said than done. He stops by the school every day to pick up Sarah Thompson. I can't even walk to the office after three without seeing his smug face."

"What's it to you?" Andy asked. "What's
she
to you? I thought you fancied our fair Sadie. Have you started to stray from the maiden you rescued?"

Kevin began to shake his head but stopped. He wasn't at all sure what he thought or felt when it came to the women in his life. He did like Sadie and wanted to pursue something with her, but he found it increasingly difficult to purge Sarah from his mind.

"No, I still like her," Kevin said. "I just can't stomach the sight of Sarah with that guy. She deserves better.
Everyone
deserves better."

Andy lifted his eyes from the article, cocked his head, and looked at Kevin as if he had just said something profound. He put his papers in a leather folder and then stared at his visitor.

"Maybe you're right, Kevin. Maybe I should take a break."

"Don't stop because of me. If you have work to finish, then finish it. I can bore you with my problems any day."

"You could, my friend, you could, and you probably will."

Kevin chuckled.

"Then why not keep at it?"

Andy closed his folder.

"Because your lady problems sound far more interesting than a story I can finish tomorrow."

Andy pushed himself away from his desk.

"Is that all?" Kevin asked.

"No. That's not all."

"Then what?"

Andy stood up and collected his hat and jacket from a rack in the corner of the room. When he finished donning the accessories, he turned to his friend.

"I should quit because I'm suddenly reminded of the calendar and my sordid heritage."

Kevin smiled. He knew what was coming.

"Let's take a turn on Cedar and see what trouble we can find," Andy said with a mischievous grin. "We have a patron saint to honor."

CHAPTER 30: ASA

Friday, June 21, 2013

The time traveler decided at Milepost 299 that he couldn't do it. Halfway between the rat race of Spokane and the sprawl of Coeur d'Alene, Asa Lysander Johnson decided that he couldn't live in a world of stifling traffic, irritating noise, and endless distraction.

Though he liked making money in the twenty-first century, he knew now he could never be a permanent part of it. He would return to Wallace and a time that made sense and finally start to truly enjoy the fruits of his labors.

An hour later, Asa gazed out the right rear window of what his driver called a Prius and took stock of his surroundings. The mountains and forests looked much the same, but the buildings did not. Businesses and houses were larger, newer, and far more functional. So were the cars. He smiled as he thought of a modern vehicle traveling seventy-five miles per hour down a road as smooth as silk. What an age, he thought. What an age. Too bad it was not for him.

"Shall I drop you off at the usual place, Mr. Johnson?" the cab driver asked.

"Yes, I'd like that, Frank."

Asa glanced at the driver as he turned off of Interstate 90 at Exit 61 and followed Wallace's business route to a spot on Garnet Street two blocks shy of his home. He preferred this approach because it allowed him to perform a risk assessment and adjust to any unexpected complications.

Only once had Asa run into a problem he could not immediately address. In 2005 he had stumbled upon a backyard gathering that had forced a temporary postponement of his return to the past. One did not access the chamber of stones when children and grown-ups played croquet in the backyard.

Asa paid Frank handsomely for his time, sent him on his way, and slowly approached a house that James May had built in 1895. He generally admired what his descendants had done to the place, particularly the codger Roger Johnson, a man Asa believed to be his grandson. The greenhouse and the redwood deck were nice touches.

Wearing a nondescript suit that didn't stand out in either era, Asa walked past his property on the far side of the street. When he glanced to his left, he saw his house and a potential problem. A middle-aged couple and a much younger woman gathered outside the residence and then stepped toward a large, sleek vehicle. Asa hadn't seen them before and didn't know who they were. He knew only that he would have to evaluate the situation before proceeding.

Asa walked to the end of the street, dropped his small suitcase to the ground, and pretended to admire the scenery without appearing to be lost. He needed offers of assistance from strangers like he needed a hole in his head.

When the trio in the car pulled out of the driveway, drove to Garnet and Seventh, and turned out of sight, Asa grabbed his suitcase and headed back toward the house. He didn't see the old man or his vehicle. He instead saw a smaller, odd-looking automobile parked out front. Was it possible that someone had remained behind? Asa couldn't tell. He proceeded with caution.

Asa walked first to the west side of the house, where he couldn't be seen by any occupants, and scanned Roger Johnson's backyard. It too appeared unoccupied. Deciding that the coast was clear, he walked quickly to the stone chamber, looked over his shoulder one last time, and placed his "godless gold" at the foot of the door.

He paused a moment, picked up the gold, walked into the shed, and waited for the portal to do its thing. Though he hadn't figured out all the particulars of this amazing facility, he knew two things for certain: he could never predict the time of his arrival and always predict the time of his return. He'd return to the same time and date that he had entered the chamber.

That could be both a blessing and a curse. He hated to be away from Celia, but he hated answering questions even more. Since it was hard to explain business trips that lasted seconds, instead of days or weeks, he had gotten into the habit of scheduling some of his "moonlight excursions" around actual business trips.

This trip would be different. Because he was not bringing back gifts from the city – gifts he might have to explain – he would walk through his front door as if he had come straight home from work and not made a late afternoon detour through the chamber of stones.

As he waited in the darkness of the shed, Asa pondered the twenty or so trips he had made since the moonlit night of April 28, 1907, when he had discovered that time travel was real, accessible, and potentially lucrative.

The first trip had been particularly memorable, even though much of it had been spent in a public library. After getting over the shock of traveling ninety-three years in a matter of minutes, Asa had taken a crash course on 2000. He had read newspapers, encyclopedias, and financial magazines, all in an effort to learn about the twentieth century and determine how he could profit from the twenty-first.

Still, he had moved slowly. He had traveled to five more years – 2002, 2005, 2007, 2009, and 2012 – in the following months before settling on a starting point for future endeavors. He had picked 2007 because it was a year that the U.S. economy had started to fall and possibilities for speculators had started to rise.

In between trips to libraries and financial institutions, Asa had also taken the time to meet people – particularly people in important places. It hadn't taken him long to realize that, to be successful, he would have to establish and cultivate friendships with individuals he could trust.

When he had done that, he had returned to 2007 and begun doing business with three men: a Spokane gold trader named Mercer, an anonymous jewelry broker who sold man-made diamonds at cut-rate prices, and an independent taxi driver who answered calls at any hour and didn't ask a lot of questions. By keeping his head and working with the right people, Asa had become financially independent within a year.

He had shared his wealth with Celia but none of his secrets. Though he loved his wife of seven years, he didn't entirely trust her. Asa knew as well as anyone in Wallace, a town built on silver, that wealth changed people. It made them greedy, unpredictable, and talkative. For that reason, Asa had told Celia nothing about the magic portal or his hidden cache. To her, he was a loving husband who traveled often on business and made good money doing it.

Even with his secrets safe, however, Asa didn't like storing his riches under the floor of a guest bedroom. So in the fall of 1909 he began moving some of his assets to safe-deposit boxes at three different banks and a wall safe in his office. Though he hadn't accessed the hidden space since January 25, he planned to return to it soon. He would empty it over the summer and transfer the remaining coins and jewels to their new homes.

The chamber of stones, of course, was another matter. Asa had nothing but his Winchester M97 to keep trespassers at bay. He had often wondered whether James May had told others about the shed or whether his descendants had discovered its secrets.

He thought also about the man he had found in the chamber on Valentine's Day. He liked the newcomer, who had visited the family twice since becoming a teacher, but he still wasn't sure he believed his story. Perhaps Kevin too had heard of the portal. He was a Johnson, after all.

He slowly opened the chamber door, looked around, and sighed when he saw that the yard was unoccupied. This was the part he dreaded. It would be one thing for Celia to spot him carrying a suitcase near the side of the house. It would be another for her to catch him coming out of the shed.

Asa sighed again when he stepped into the yard and saw the same garments on the clothesline and the same toys scattered on the lawn. He welcomed the sight, though he didn't care much for the mess. He would talk to Randolph about leaving his toys outside.

He walked around the side of the house and scanned the west side of Garnet for family members, curious neighbors, or people he knew. Thankfully, he saw none. Grabbing his suitcase, he walked through his front door and into his kitchen, where he saw an unoccupied table and a calendar marked with X's. It was Wednesday, March 23, 1910, the date he had left and had expected to find – a date that fell just inside the leading shadow of the March 25 full moon.

Asa smiled when he heard activity in another room. All was well.

"Celia, I'm home."

CHAPTER 31: KEVIN

Thursday, March 24, 1910

To the students of Mr. Johnson's day-ending science class, it was Krakatoa vs. Vesuvius, a spectacle for the ages and the most exciting thing they'd seen since the lab-rat races on Tuesday.

To Kevin, it was validation. After nine days of ups and downs at Shoshone County High School, he had finally proved his mettle as an educator.

He conceded that getting these students excited about this particular experiment wasn't difficult. Kids in 1910 were no different than kids in 2013. They liked to see things ooze and bubble and hear them pop – and few things oozed and bubbled and popped like baking soda volcanoes that spewed ingredients readily available in both eras.

What made this exercise really ooze, bubble, and pop, however, was
competition
. Kevin had asked the boys in the class to create one volcano and the girls another. He had told the students that the group that produced more fizz than fizzle would win a gallon of ice cream the next day. Needless to say, he had not cleared the competition with Principal Morrison.

"This is so much fun, Mr. Johnson. Thank you," Josephine White said.

"So you like volcanoes?"

"I do when I can make them!"

Kevin smiled as he soaked up the enthusiasm of the girl most likely to leave an apple on his desk. He loved these exchanges. He loved making a difference.