Time Travelers Never Die Part 40

They located Herbert Hoover at twenty-six in China during the Boxer Rebellion. He introduced himself as "Herb," and said he was glad to see some fellow Americans. Shel was in the middle of explaining why they were there, how they were on a round-the-world tour, when gun-fire and explosions interrupted the conversation. Several nearby houses exploded. Others erupted in flames. Hoover charged into one of them and began carrying out wounded kids. Shel and Dave hesitated briefly, then followed his lead.

They interviewed Woodrow Wilson in Atlanta, in January 1883, allegedly for an article to appear in Georgia Law Georgia Law. During the interview, Wilson discussed his political ambitions. "Of course I'd like to be president," he said. "The country needs to change its direction."

"In what way, Mr. Wilson?"

"The government, as it is presently const.i.tuted, invites corruption. We need to rewrite the Const.i.tution. Bring it into the modern age."

"You think the Const.i.tution is obsolete?"

"It's hopelessly eighteenth-century, sir. Hopelessly."

THEY stopped by the Grant & Perkins leather shop in Galena, Illinois, on the brink of the Civil War, to talk with Ulysses Grant about saddles and incidentally his feelings on the tension with the Southern states. "Eventually," he said, "it's going to come to a shoot-out." He shook his head. "Far as I'm concerned, we might as well get it over with." stopped by the Grant & Perkins leather shop in Galena, Illinois, on the brink of the Civil War, to talk with Ulysses Grant about saddles and incidentally his feelings on the tension with the Southern states. "Eventually," he said, "it's going to come to a shoot-out." He shook his head. "Far as I'm concerned, we might as well get it over with."

They tried on hats at the Truman & Jacobson haberdashery in Kansas City in the summer of 1920. In 1833, they left clothing to be repaired at Andrew Johnson's tailor shop in Greenville, Tennessee.

Expecting to get away from politics for a time, they traveled to the Lamplight, a restaurant in 1937 Durham, N.C., to encounter, accidentally, Aldous Huxley, who would be there that evening with friends. While they waited, the piano player took a break, and a young dark-haired guy, who was one of a group of students seated in back, came forward at their urging and sat down on the bench. He rippled through the keys, and it became immediately evident that he was quite good. While his friends cheered, he played "These Foolish Things." Huxley came in during the rendition, and Shel got up, started across the room, and stopped abruptly, pretending shock at recognizing, as he put it, the writer he admired most in the world. "You are are Aldous Huxley, aren't you?" Aldous Huxley, aren't you?"

Huxley smiled uncomfortably. Nodded. "Yes, I am." And: "h.e.l.lo."

"I love your work," Shel said.

Dave, meantime, recognized something familiar about the piano player.

"Brave New World is brilliant," Shel continued. "I wish I had my copy with me so I could have you sign it. Would it be all right if I took a picture?" is brilliant," Shel continued. "I wish I had my copy with me so I could have you sign it. Would it be all right if I took a picture?"

"Well-" Huxley hesitated. Looked at his three companions. "Sure."

"Dave? We need the camera."

The pianist finished and started another number. "In the Moonlight in the Chapel."

Dave took out his gooseberry and waved Shel closer to Huxley so he could get them both in the shot.

"Say," said Huxley, "what kind of camera is that that?"

"Newest model," said Shel.

Dave took the picture. And two more.

"May I see it?"

Dave handed it to the author, with the first picture on-screen. "That's the photo," said Shel.

Huxley was impressed. "Magnificent," he said. "Where can I get one of these?"

Dave handed the gooseberry to Shel and walked over to the pianist. "You have a nice touch," he said.

The young man smiled. "Thanks." He was in his early twenties.

"You're a student?"

"Duke Law."

"Very good. That should give you a running start."

The smile widened. "I hope so."

One of his friends, a young woman, pushed into the conversation. "d.i.c.k," he said, "how about 'Taking a Chance on Love'?"

d.i.c.k winked at her.

"I'm talking about the piano."

"Oh," he said. "Sure." He gave Dave a thumbs-up and started playing.

Dave went back to their table. Shel by then had returned. "You recognize that guy?" Dave asked.

"Who?"

"The guy at the piano."

Shel looked. Shook his head. "No."

"You're sure?"

"Who do you think he is?"

"Think 'Checkers.' "

" 'Checkers'? Who plays checkers?"

"Not the board game. The dog."

Shel stared. He shook his head. "Not a chance," he said.

CHAPTER 31.

On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but pa.s.sion is the gale.

-ALEXANDER POPE, ESSAY ON MAN ESSAY ON MAN

THAT remarkable evening was made even more memorable because it was the night Dave met Sandy Meyers. Sandy was one of two women enjoying an animated conversation on the other side of the restaurant. She had deep brown eyes and rich chestnut hair swept up in the style of the time. And a laugh that shook Dave's world. Shel had not bought Dave's theory regarding the young man who'd sat down at the piano. He was back with his friends now, and the house pianist had returned. But Shel had wandered over to speak with him, while Dave kept an eye on the woman with the electric smile. d.i.c.k nodded a couple of times. Then Shel caught his breath and started taking pictures, and Dave knew he'd been right. But something more important was taking over his life at the moment. remarkable evening was made even more memorable because it was the night Dave met Sandy Meyers. Sandy was one of two women enjoying an animated conversation on the other side of the restaurant. She had deep brown eyes and rich chestnut hair swept up in the style of the time. And a laugh that shook Dave's world. Shel had not bought Dave's theory regarding the young man who'd sat down at the piano. He was back with his friends now, and the house pianist had returned. But Shel had wandered over to speak with him, while Dave kept an eye on the woman with the electric smile. d.i.c.k nodded a couple of times. Then Shel caught his breath and started taking pictures, and Dave knew he'd been right. But something more important was taking over his life at the moment.

Twice, the woman caught him looking at her. The first time, her gaze moved past as if he were invisible. A few minutes later, it happened again, and that smile flickered briefly. It lasted no longer than an eyeblink, but it was there.

Her companion was a blonde, and they were exchanging war stories. Each had a briefcase tucked beside her. There were no businesswomen during this era. And no female lawyers. So he concluded they were teachers.

He wanted to get up, go over, and say h.e.l.lo. Usually he had no problem walking up to strange women and introducing himself. But this time an odd reluctance overtook him. And he watched forlornly as they finished their meal, called for the check, put a couple of bills on the table, and got up to go.

She's walking out of my life.

What kind of approach did he have available? All the usual lines seemed dumb. Pardon me, but I think we've met before. Pardon me, but I think we've met before.

Maybe he could fake another heart attack.

Then he caught a break. She'd picked up her briefcase, but she was leaving a hat behind. It was, he decided, an invitation. He gave her time to get to the door, then spotted a waiter zeroing in on the hat. David literally leaped from his chair, moved quickly to block off the waiter, scooped up the hat, and started after her.

They were at the curb and appeared to be looking for a taxi. "Pardon me," he said, showing them the hat, "but I think one of you ladies left this behind."

Her eyes touched his, and his heart picked up a beat. "Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure." He paused. "It's a lovely hat."

THAT was how it began. She and the other woman were going for a drink at Halo's. Would he care to join them? was how it began. She and the other woman were going for a drink at Halo's. Would he care to join them?

"I have a friend inside," Dave said.

"He's welcome to come along."

But Shel was still in a state of shock at his double score in the Lamplight. "See you at home," said Dave.

He went back to Sandy and her friend, and they were on their way. Twenty minutes later, they commandeered a table at Halo's and eventually drank and sang the balance of the evening.

"What does she do for a living?" Shel asked, when they were back in the town house.

"She's a math instructor at Duke."

"Good. So where do you go from here?" He had no idea. But it had been a long time since he'd been so enthralled, so quickly, by a woman. Not even Helen had hit him that hard.

WITHOUT saying anything to Shel, he returned to Durham two days later and called Sandy from a drugstore. They made a date for a Sat.u.r.day evening concert. He told her he'd look forward to the evening, hung up, and used the converter to move forward to Sat.u.r.day night, grabbed a cab, and arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later. saying anything to Shel, he returned to Durham two days later and called Sandy from a drugstore. They made a date for a Sat.u.r.day evening concert. He told her he'd look forward to the evening, hung up, and used the converter to move forward to Sat.u.r.day night, grabbed a cab, and arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later.

She looked even better than he remembered. He'd already told her what he did for a living. "Where do you teach?" she asked.

He should have been prepared. He needed a local school, but his brain froze, and he told her he was at Penn.

"I'm surprised," she said, "you can get away during the semester. How'd you manage that?"

And that's what happens when you start telling the truth. He made up a story about a sick relative and got the distinct impression she knew he was lying. But she let it go, and minutes later they were inside the theater listening to Sergei Rachmaninoff, who was on tour, play several of his own compositions.

IT was a dazzling night, and a week later, for her-though the next night for him-he took her to see a British film, was a dazzling night, and a week later, for her-though the next night for him-he took her to see a British film, Gangway Gangway, with Jessie Mat thews and Alastair Sim. This time he'd had to claim he'd driven in from Philadelphia to see how his sick cousin was doing. (But after the show he couldn't remember the specifics of what he had told her. Sick cousin? Or had it been his mother?) "It's not easy," she said, "getting information from you."

He tried to laugh it off. "There's probably not much to get. Except that beautiful women seem to enjoy my company."

They returned to the Lamplight the following evening, ostensibly the day before he was to go back to Philadelphia. She liked him, smiled at all the right times, and let him know in a hundred different ways that he mattered mattered. Even though she'd known him only a couple of weeks, she wanted to keep him around.

But there were problems. "Where's your car?" she'd asked. "Why are we using a taxi?"

He should have told her he'd taken the train, but it hadn't occurred to him. "I left it with Sarah. In case she needs it."

"She must be doing much better."

"Oh, yes," he said. "She's much improved."

After he'd dropped out of sight, which was an inevitable outcome, she might make phone calls and find out he'd lied to her. No David Dryden at Penn. Maybe no David Dryden even in the Philadelphia phone book. At least none who was likely to be teaching languages anywhere.

And that hurt. Losing her would be bad enough. But to send her off knowing he'd been a fraud?

The Lamplight, he decided, reluctantly, would be their last evening together. The longer he delayed, the harder it would be on both of them. He wanted to do it, get it over with, put it all behind him, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

She gave him the perfect opening when she read his face and asked what was wrong. But he just wasn't ready. Maybe it would be best to think it through anyhow. He decided he'd talk to her during the week and tell her there was someone else in his life. That he was going to ask this other woman to marry him. He'd apologize, and say how much he'd enjoyed being with her, and he understood if she was angry. But that, however things played out, she'd always have a friend.

They were seated at the table Huxley had occupied. The pianist was doing "It's a Sin to Tell a Lie."

"Nothing," he said. "Life couldn't be better."

She looked at him closely, and apparently decided to go along with the game. "Our special place," she said.

He squeezed her wrist. "Forever."

But it must not have been in his voice. "That's easy to say, Dave." Her eyes glittered. "You want to call it a night?"

"No," he said. No. He didn't want to call it a night. Didn't want to say good-bye. He could imagine himself coming back to this evening, watching from across the street as they left the Lamplight, as he had watched himself and Erin at the cabin, regretting he had let her go. And yet what other choice did he have?

"You feel like dancing?" she said.

She knew a good spot, so they went across town. It was his first attempt at doing the Charleston, and she seemed mildly surprised that he was less than accomplished. From there they went to the Flamingo for a nightcap. And then it was over and the taxi was pulling up in front of her apartment house, and she was inviting him in.

But he pa.s.sed. "Wiped out," he said. He asked the taxi to wait while he walked her to the door. He kept thinking never again never again. Thinking how he would miss her. When he drew her into his arms, all the suppleness was gone.

She knew knew.

"I'll be in touch," he said.