Trolley to Yesterday (3 page)

"Ow!" he exclaimed as he picked himself up. He felt his arms and legs, but nothing seemed to be broken.

"Are you okay?" asked Johnny anxiously. He had managed to cling to his seat somehow.

Fergie winced as he felt his elbow. "Oh, yeah, I guess so. I'll live," he muttered as he turned to look at the professor, who was clutching the safety bar on the dashboard with white-knuckled hands. "Okay," Fergie added in a loud sarcastic voice, "so what do we do now?" He was convinced that this whole ride had been a fake, and he was sure that they were still in the dank old subway tunnel where the trip had started.

Slowly the professor pulled himself to his feet. He seemed weirdly calm, and he grinned at the two boys. "Believe it or not, children," he said, "we are here. We are just outside one of the Holes of Time, and when I open the side door of the trolley, we will be able to step out into sunlight that has not shone for five hundred years. We are still in between dimensions right now, and if you like, we can just reverse the ride and go back to my basement in Duston Heights. Are you ready to step through the door or not?"

Fergie and Johnny looked at each other. They both turned pale, and it slowly dawned on them that the professor was not bluffing. Johnny swallowed hard and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. "I... I'm ready to go if you are, professor," he said in a thin, shaky voice.

Fergie grimaced. He was scared, but he was not going to back down. "I'm ready too," he muttered. "Let's get moving!"

The professor walked halfway down the car and pulled a wooden lever. With a hissing sound the side door of the trolley folded open, and the boys saw a narrow stone arch, and a streak of hard, bright sunlight beyond it. All they had to do was step over the worn wooden sill and they would be... where? They really had no idea.

The professor stepped forward. He reached into the pocket of his smoking jacket and pulled out a small brass object about two inches long. It was shaped like a booted foot, and it looked like one of the pipe tampers that Johnny had seen in a tobacco store in Boston. Men used them to pound down the loose tobacco in the bowls of their pipes.

"This," said the professor, "is the key that we must use to pierce the veil of time. I found it in a cigar box under the driver's seat, and it was quite a while before I figured out what it was for. Without it we can't get out of the car, and we need it to get back in. Here. Let me show you what I mean." Stuffing the tamper back into his pocket, the professor threw himself at the opening that was framed by the folding doors of the trolley.
Whump!
It was like hitting a solid oak door. He stepped back, adjusted his glasses, and turned to the boys.

"You see?" he said. "Well, now just watch!" And with that he took the brass tamper out of his pocket and thrust it into the opening. The air shimmered, and a thin veil seemed to divide. The professor stepped through, and suddenly he was on the other side. He turned and motioned for the boys to follow him.

"Come on!" he said anxiously. "The door will be open for only a couple of seconds, and then I'll need to use the tamper to reopen it. Hurry!"

 

 

After a brief hesitation Fergie and Johnny tensed themselves, and then they sprang through the opening. They looked back a moment later and saw only a blank wall. Where were they? In another place and time, standing on the rough stone floor of a circular room. The walls were pierced by narrow loophole windows, and sunlight streamed in through them. Johnny ran to a window and looked out. He saw choppy, blue ocean water, and in the distance the high stone walls that guarded an ancient city. Looming beyond the walls, he saw the broad saucer-shaped dome of a large building. Johnny knew what the building was—he had seen it a thousand times in photographs that were in old books he liked to read. This was the Church of Hagia Sophia, the Church of the Holy Wisdom of God. But in the photos the old church had always been flanked by four minarets, tall towers built by the Turks after they conquered the city. Johnny saw that the towers were missing. They were not there because they had not been built yet. Johnny realized with awe that he was looking at the old city of Constantinople, where the emperors of Byzantium had ruled for a thousand years. This was not a movie set or a dream or a Viewmaster slide. It was real, and he was there.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

For a long time Johnny, Fergie, and the professor stood looking out the windows of the stone building they were in. The walls of the city glowed golden in the sunlight, and in the distance they could see long, low ships with triangular sails cutting through the water. The city was a long way away, but Johnny thought he could see people moving back and forth on top of the walls.

"What is this place that we're in now, professor?" he asked at last. "Is it a fort or something like that?"

"Sort of," said the professor. "We're in Leander's Tower, which stands on a little spit of land in the Hellespont, the narrow body of water that runs between the Black Sea, which is north from here, and the Sea of Marmara, which is below us. Leander was a half-witted Greek athlete who tried to swim the Hellespont so he could visit his sweetie, and he got drowned for his troubles.

"As you have probably guessed, that is Constantinople in the distance. At one time Constantinople was the capital of the great Byzantine Empire. But for centuries the enemies of Byzantium have been chipping away at the empire, conquering bits and pieces, till now there isn't much left except for the city you're looking at. The Turks have taken away just about everything that the Byzantine emperors once ruled, but are they satisfied? Not by a long shot! They want Constantinople, and they are going to fight hard to get it."

The professor paused and gazed sadly out the window. "For the time being we're here on March 30, 1453," he went on, "so the city is secure, but later a great Turkish army will arrive outside the walls. And they will bring with them a huge cannon that will batter at the ancient, crumbling stones until the soldiers of the Turkish Sultan can pour into the city and kill and loot to their hearts' content." The professor paused again. The back of his neck was getting red, and he was breathing heavily. It was obvious that he was really getting worked up.

"There will be a great slaughter in the city," he went on in a choked, emotional voice, "but the worst thing will happen in that great domed church that you see over there. On the evening of May 28, hundreds of people will crowd into the Church of the Holy Wisdom, hoping that God will protect them from the enemy. There is a legend that says an Angel of Light will come down into the church and blind the foes and drive them away." The professor's lips curled into a bitter sarcastic frown. "Silly people!" he said. "They're silly to think that an angel would protect them from a brutal enemy! No angel came, and the Turks battered down the bronze doors of the church and murdered a lot of people. The rest were taken away to be sold as slaves."

The professor bowed his head. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was biting his lip angrily. Finally he pulled himself together. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and grimaced. There was a long pause, and Fergie and Johnny looked anxiously at each other.

"I'm sorry that I lost control of myself," the professor said stiffly as he stared longingly out the window. "I know it's ridiculous to get all worked up about something that happened five hundred years ago, but I've been reading about the siege of Constantinople all my life, and now here I am, about a mile and a half from the city, just before the siege begins, and... well, you would think I would be able to
do
something!"

Johnny blinked. "Do something? Like... what?"

A light had dawned in Fergie's eyes. He grinned wickedly. "Hey, I know what you could do, prof!" he said gleefully. "You could get a machine gun and get up on those walls over there, and when those crummy Turks go chargin' in, you could mow 'em down! Boy, would
they
ever be surprised!"

The professor eyed Fergie coldly. "I might have known that you would come up with a clever idea like that," he growled. "But I am not going to become a murderer. There has to be some other way!"

Fergie looked disgusted. "Like what?" he said.

"I don't know," said the professor in a low voice. "But by God I'm going to find a way. You just see if I don't!"

There was another long silence. Johnny leaned out a window. He could feel the rough stone sill under his hands, and he could smell the brackish sea air. He could see the shining walled city that looked so beautiful and dreamlike in the afternoon light. Johnny felt a sudden surge of hope in his heart. Maybe the professor could do something. Maybe he could change the course of history and drive away the Turkish army that would soon be outside the gates of Constantinople. But then Johnny was filled with despair. If the professor would not use modern weapons of destruction, how could he defeat the Turks? He couldn't chase them away with a broom, or with Halloween masks, could he? But maybe ...

The professor's voice interrupted Johnny's thoughts. "Come on, boys," he said as he pulled the pipe tamper out of his jacket pocket. "We had better be getting back to Duston Heights and the middle of the twentieth century. Your grandmother will be looking for you, John, and I'm sure Byron has homework to do. Come along."

As he followed Johnny and the old man back through the magic doorway, Fergie thought of something. "Prof?" he asked. "I hate to be a pest, but well, wouldn't the local people think it was kind of weird if they looked up and saw a trolley car hangin' outside one of the second-floor windows of their tower?"

The professor chuckled. "It would be something to stare at, wouldn't it?" he said as he sat down in front of the trolley's control panel. "However, as strange as it may seem, the car is invisible. It's invisible because it's really not
here...
not in the normal sense of the word. It's hanging in between dimensions, with its motor idling, waiting to go backward or forward in time. Now take your seats and grab hold of something. The Duston Heights Rocket is about to make a return trip."

Johnny and Fergie grabbed their seats, the professor twiddled with the dials and levers, and the trolley took off on a clumpy, clattering, bone-jarring ride. When it stopped, both Johnny and Fergie were pitched forward onto the floor of the car, and the professor bumped his head on the windshield. Dazed and shaken, the three of them climbed down out of the car and walked slowly to the arch that led back to the basement of
the
professor's house. For a long time no one said anything—the boys had been astounded by the things they had seen. Fergie's mind was racing, and he kept trying to convince himself that the whole trip had been a fake. But he had smelled the salt air and seen the sun shining on the honey-colored walls of Constantinople. If the trip was an illusion, it was a pretty good one. When Johnny's head began to clear, he remembered the things that he and Fergie had heard when they were hiding under the windowsill of the professor's back porch. Was the old man really planning to go to Constantinople and drive the Turks away? It had sounded as if he and Brewster were discussing ways of getting into the city. If that was really what was on his mind ...

"Professor," said Johnny suddenly as they were starting up the cellar steps, "you're not really going to try to fight the Turks, are you?"

The professor jumped as if someone had stuck a pin in his arm. "Hah?" he said in an abnormally high voice. "Am I going to—" Suddenly he broke up. He laughed loudly. "What an idiotic notion! How on
earth
could an old fogey like me change the course of history? How could I possibly fight the eighty thousand soldiers that the Turkish Sultan is going to throw at the walls of Constantinople? I'm not a hero, and I certainly don't intend to get killed in a battle that was fought hundreds of years before I was born. Don't get all worked up, John! I may go back and watch the battle from Leander's Tower, but I won't risk my neck. Merciful heavens, how could you think that I would? I'm not
that
crazy!"

Johnny eyed the professor skeptically. He had known the old man for quite some time, and he could guess when he was putting up a front. Johnny couldn't very well call the professor a liar, so he just nodded and smiled. But in his heart he was alarmed, and he wondered what he could do to stop Professor Childermass if he decided to become some crazy kind of hero.

When they got back upstairs to the kitchen, Johnny and Fergie were surprised to see that Brewster was gone. The professor did not seem concerned. He merely yawned.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you," he said in a bored tone. "He's gone off to outer space or inner space or
somewhere,
but he'll be back eventually. As for me, I'm going to bed in a few minutes, but I can offer you boys some cocoa before you leave. How about it?"

Johnny and Fergie agreed, and they sat around and chatted while the professor heated up water on the stove. After drinking the cocoa, the boys left. They both felt a bit dazed, but they were happy. Happy about the wild experience they had had, and anxious to try it again sometime soon. But Johnny was still worried about the professor.