Fire, The (28 page)

"I think I know where this is going," Kevin said.

"Don't be so sure."

"He gave him his knife, right? The warrior gave your grandfather his knife."

"Actually, he gave him someone else's knife."

Sadie cocked her head and met Kevin's eyes.

"He gave him a peacemaker's knife. He gave him the knife of Chief Joseph."

Kevin stared at Sadie with wide eyes and then shook his head.

"OK. That changes everything," Kevin said. "I can't accept this."

"You already said you would."

"That was five minutes ago, when I thought the knife came from a curio shop. I can't accept it now that I know its value. Your father gave this to you because he wanted you to have it."

"He did. Now I'm giving it to you because I want
you
to have it. Please keep it."

Kevin gazed at Sadie and, once again, saw a girl he didn't want to disappoint. He put the knife in the box and then gripped the box firmly.

"OK. I'll keep it. The last thing I want to do is put a pout on that face."

Sadie smiled sweetly.

"Thank you," she said.

"I'm warning you now, though, that I'm going to buy something big for your birthday."

"You've already purchased my freedom, Kevin. That's plenty."

"Then let me
do
something for you."

Sadie brightened.

"I like that idea!"

"Then it's a plan. When's your birthday?"

"It's June 10."

"That's perfect. I'll have just enough time to think of something good. Prepare to be spoiled."

"Can I make a request?"

"Of course you can."

"Can we do something together, just the two of us?"

Kevin paused before answering. He knew she was angling for more than he could deliver, but he was in no mood to let her down. Not now. She had given him a priceless gift. The least he could do was show her a good time on her birthday.

"Sure. Why not? If you want to do something special, then we'll do something special."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise," Kevin said. "I won't let you down."

CHAPTER 49: KEVIN

Tuesday, May 17, 1910

Kevin looked at the picture and laughed. It was just a photograph on the wall of a saloon, but it reminded him of his greatest weakness. He could not resist the smile of a beautiful woman.

He thought about how much less complicated his life might be had he simply stuck to the original script. He had entered the chamber of stones to find adventure, to take the kind of trip that Albert Einstein and others could only imagine. He had not entered the portal to find love. Now that he had found it, he had to decide what to do about it.

Kevin knew there were worse problems a man could have. He could be incapacitated, for one thing. The hospitals of Wallace were filled with miners who had suffered serious injuries on the job. Some would return to their jobs within days. Some would never return. In the meantime, bills would go unpaid. That was a circumstance he would not wish on anyone.

He could also be sick. Even after three months in 1910, Kevin could not get used to reading and hearing about people who succumbed to influenza, pneumonia, and tuberculosis. These were treatable diseases in 2013, but in the year of Mark Twain, Edward VII, and Halley's comet, they were the chief biological tormentors of man.

Kevin knew as well that it would be no damned fun to be lonely. He knew what it was like to go months, even years, without a girlfriend. Though he had dated regularly in high school and college, he knew what it was like to watch girls he liked flock to guys with letterman jackets, fast cars, and fast lines. He had felt the piercing sting of rejection on numerous occasions.

That history made his situation all the more pathetic. Kevin had the attention and affection of two kind, intelligent, and beautiful women, but he knew he probably couldn't keep the one he wanted. Try as he may, he simply couldn't imagine Sarah leaving her family forever to follow a relative stranger to a strange new world.

So he sat at the bar of the Shooting Star and stared at the picture that reminded him of how his latest sojourn had become so messy in the first place. He stared and tried to think of a win-win strategy until his pleasant task was interrupted by a most unpleasant voice.

"I was told I could find you here," Preston Pierce said from behind.

Kevin looked over his shoulder and returned to his beer. He took a final sip, put four bits on the bar, and started to get up.

"Don't leave on account of me, Mr. Johnson," Pierce said. "I won't be long."

Kevin didn't want to give the banker thirty seconds. He didn't want to hear a single word out of his mouth, but he concluded that, this time, anyway, it might pay to listen. As Sun Tzu wrote, it was wise to know your enemy before heading into battle. Kevin returned to his stool.

"Say your piece then. You have five minutes."

"You're more than generous."

Kevin watched Pierce take the stool to his right, raise his hand, and order a shot of whiskey. He cast the first stone when the bartender delivered the drink and walked away.

"Where's your hired courage?" Kevin asked. "I don't recognize you without the cretins who left me in an alley."

"Be careful, Mr. Johnson. It's not wise to make baseless accusations. It could land you in court or, worse yet, a hospital."

"What do you want, Pierce?"

"What do I want? What makes you think I want something?"

"People like you always want something."

"I see you've learned a thing or two. As it turns out, I
do
want something. I want you to leave town. I want you to return to whatever hellhole you came from and never come back."

"It's not going to happen."

Pierce lifted his glass and downed the shot.

"I thought you'd say that. You've demonstrated more spirit than judgment since you crawled off your train," Pierce said. "Let me explain, however, why I think you should reconsider. Let me tell you what I've done and what I'm prepared to do to convince you that leaving, and leaving soon, is a good idea."

"I'm listening."

"I've done some digging since you stormed into my bank. I've checked your educational credentials, your background, and even your financial history. Do you know what I found?"

"Let me guess. You found your conscience."

"I found nothing. I found no evidence that you grew up in Oregon or attended college in Seattle or even lived in this country until February. You, Mr. Johnson, don't exist."

"If I don't exist, then what do you think you're looking at?"

Pierce narrowed his eyes.

"I think I'm looking at a criminal."

Kevin laughed.

"I'd like to see you prove that."

"Give me time and I will. You may have won over Ed Morrison, but I assure you that your luck won't last. When I find the proof that I need, I'll make sure that you never work again."

"I'm quaking. Please tell me you plan to do more than write letters to school boards."

Pierce broke into a sickening smile.

"I do. I plan to do much more. I plan to put you in prison."

"It's not a crime to steal ladies from cretins."

"You're right. But it
is
a crime to steal gold."

Kevin sat up in his stool.

"You should have paid more attention to your coins and less attention to your cause when bailing out your little whore," Pierce said.

"Watch your mouth, buster, or . . ."

"Or what? Or you'll go to the police? Please do. I'll go with you. We can both tell them how you paid off a stranger's debt with some of the rarest coins ever made."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about seventy-six double eagles minted in New Orleans in 1856. Those pieces didn't come from a bank. They came from a collector."

"You don't know where they came from."

"I don't know now, but I will soon. I plan to spend every waking hour trying to locate their rightful owner and, when I find him, I intend to report this matter to the authorities."

Pierce grinned.

"The choice is yours. You can leave Wallace now or take your chances on going to jail," the banker said as he got up from his stool. "Good night, Mr. Johnson."

Kevin watched Preston Pierce leave the saloon and disappear into a crowded street. He wanted to believe that he had seen the last of him, but he knew better. This feud would not end until one man delivered a decisive blow and, right now, Pierce clearly had the upper hand.

Kevin recognized his problem immediately. He knew that if Asa Johnson ever opened his floor safe and found it empty, he would surely suspect the man he had found in his rock shed and report his suspicions to the police. The police would then search Kevin's safe-deposit box, find a boatload of vintage double eagles, and issue an arrest warrant.

The time traveler didn't have to think hard to figure out where things could go from there. If he went to jail or, worse yet, prison, he would not be able to access the chamber of stones and return to 2013. Kevin might find himself behind bars without friends, resources, or even hope.

He knew that any rational person would take Pierce's deal, hide out until the next full moon, and escape to the future before the present pulled him back. Kevin, however, was anything but rational. He was a man in love. He had found the woman of his dreams and sure as hell didn't want to leave that woman behind.

So Kevin pondered other options. The most obvious was to grab Sarah and go. He could lead her through the portal on May 24 and explain the particulars later. Or he could tell her the truth now and hope for the best. The problem was that Kevin didn't want to betray the woman he loved and didn't want to rush her into a life-changing decision simply because he thought her cowardly ex-boyfriend might make good on a threat.

There was another consideration as well. Kevin was reluctant to leave on May 24 because he didn't
want
to leave, at least not yet. He wanted to finish the school year, spend more time with his new friends, and give his relationship with Sarah more time to mature.

Then he thought of Pierce's obsession with the double eagles. If he could keep the golden coins from the banker, Asa Johnson, and the police, he could buy himself weeks, maybe months.

Kevin needed only another moment to find a solution to his problem. He said goodbye to the bartender and walked out of the saloon.

The answer, he realized, was as clear as day. He didn't need to move himself. He needed to move Pierce's obsession. He needed to find a new home for the gold.

CHAPTER 50: KEVIN

Wednesday, May 18, 1910

Two hours after solving one problem on his lunch break, Kevin encountered another. The students in his favorite science class were fully convinced that the next day would be their last.

"We're going to die, aren't we, Mr. Johnson?"

"Yes, Stuart, we're going to die. We're going to die, at least most of us, as crotchety old goats who confuse their glasses for their false teeth at age seventy or eighty, but we're not going to die tomorrow. If you stay away from sharp objects on Thursday, I'll promise you that much."

"That's not what my father says," Stuart Graham said. "He says we're all going to die. He read it in a New York newspaper. I have the article right here."

Kevin chuckled. He might as well have fun with this.

"Can I see that?"

Stuart nodded.

Kevin walked to Stuart's desk in the second row, took the newspaper clipping, and gave it a quick scan. No wonder the students were scared. The mainstream media were running articles entitled: COMET'S POISONOUS TAIL.

"Thank you, Stuart. This article is exactly what I need to make my point today."

Kevin returned to the front of the room and sat on the edge of his desk. He no longer cared about decorum. He did care about presenting potentially distressing information in a non-threatening manner.

"This article is dated February 7," he said to the class. "It reports that cyanogen, a highly poisonous gas, has been detected in Halley's comet. That much is true. It is also true that our planet will pass through the tail of the comet tomorrow."

Kevin looked at his class and saw two-dozen students who looked like they had been handed a death sentence. He suddenly felt an obligation not only to educate but also to soothe. If nothing else, he had to give these kids peace of mind.

"The article also contains an unfortunate comment from the French astronomer Camille Flammarion. Professor Flammarion believes that if the Earth passes through the comet's tail, then the cyanogen gas will 'impregnate the atmosphere and possibly snuff out all life on the planet.'"

Kevin glanced again at his students and saw more stunned faces. The girls, in particular, seemed dumbstruck, though they appeared more shocked by his use of the word "impregnate" than by the prospect of death by comet.

He couldn't blame the students for getting caught up in the hysteria. The whole country was a mess. Kevin had read reports of Americans rushing to purchase gas masks and 'comet pills.' People in Georgia were preparing safe rooms. One man had requested that his friends lower him into a dry, forty-foot-deep well with a gallon of whiskey. The madness simply had no end.

"I understand why many of you are alarmed," Kevin said. "I understand why many of your
parents
are alarmed. It's never comforting to read quotes like this in the newspaper. This article contains things that are rather unsettling, but it also contains something that should allow all of us to sleep soundly tonight."

"What's that?" Stuart asked.

"That something, Stuart, is a statement in the last paragraph. The article reports that most astronomers do
not
agree with Professor Flammarion. Let me go further and say that
I
do not agree with Professor Flammarion. Yes, the comet contains trace amounts of cyanogen. Yes, our planet will pass through the comet's tail tomorrow. No, we will not die. We won't die because the gas will be so diluted when we pass through the tail that we won't even notice it's there."