Fire, The (29 page)

Kevin surveyed his class a third time and saw palpable relief. He laughed to himself when he saw Josie White smile and stretch her arms.

"What this means is that you will still have to come to class on Friday and turn in the papers that I assigned on Monday. You will have to help your parents around the house this weekend. On the upside, you can go to the baseball game on Saturday and church on Sunday. The sun will rise again, your lives will go on, and Halley's comet will go into hiding for another seventy-six years," Kevin said as the bell rang. "On that cheery note, class is dismissed."

Kevin smiled at several of his much-happier students as they exited the classroom and then returned to the chair behind his desk. He shuffled a few papers, put them in a folder, and filed the folder in its appropriate place in the drawer to his left.

He then opened the drawer to his right, the one with a lock, and glanced at a leather bag that contained the contents of his safe-deposit box. He planned to take the double eagles and other valuables directly to Maude's and hide them in a virtually inaccessible place in the widow's basement, a place he had discovered the night before.

Kevin still considered Preston Pierce a nuisance who required regular attention, but he no longer considered him a threat to his freedom. He knew that there was no way Pierce could prove that the 1856 gold pieces in his bank had ever belonged to an enterprising young man who had paid off the debt of a troubled young woman. As long as Kevin kept his remaining riches safely hidden from bankers, the police, and Asa Johnson, he would be fine.

He started to retrieve the leather bag from the drawer when he saw Ed Morrison stick his nose through the doorway. Kevin closed the drawer and got up from his chair.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Kevin," Morrison said. "Do you have a moment?"

"I have all the time in the world. Come on in."

Morrison stepped into the classroom and walked to the teacher's desk. He wore the eyes of a man who'd had a long day. He wore the eyes of a man who'd been crying.

"I'm afraid I have some sad news."

Kevin froze as a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. What was this about? Why was the principal addressing him individually with sad news? Where was Sarah? He hadn't seen her since Tuesday afternoon. Where was Andy? Maude? Sadie? This couldn't be good.

"What news?"

"It's about Josh Miller."

Kevin sighed as relief and confusion replaced fear.

"What about Josh? Is he sick? He hasn't been in class all week."

"He hasn't been in class because he's been in Spokane."

"Is he OK?"

Morrison shook his head, looked down, and took a deep breath. When he finally collected himself, he pulled a slip of paper from a vest pocket and handed it to Kevin.

"This came an hour ago. I wanted you and Josh's other teachers to see it before you left today. I will make an announcement to the entire school tomorrow morning."

Kevin took the slip from the principal and held it where he could read it. It was a telegram dated 18 May, a telegram that contained a short, sad, unmistakably clear message:

"PRINCIPAL MORRISON, HIGH SCHOOL, WALLACE, IDAHO. JOSH PASSED THIS A.M. POLIO. WILL RETURN FRIDAY P.M. AND MAKE ARRANGEMENTS. MASON MILLER."

Kevin turned away. He couldn't bring himself to look at Morrison. He didn't want the administrator to see the moisture forming in his eyes. He instead gazed out the classroom windows and saw more than a dozen students talk, laugh, and play on the kind of spring day he had enjoyed a thousand times. He envied their blissful ignorance.

He returned the telegram, thanked Morrison for stopping by, and watched the boss walk out of the room like a man who had just lost a family member. In a sense, he had. Ed Morrison had lost his godson and the son of his best friend.

The time traveler walked back to his chair, sat down, and took a moment to reflect. He knew these things happened. He read about them every day. He knew they were part of living in the uneasy world of 1910. Still, this seemed different. It was one thing to read about a polio victim in Boise or Seattle or Duluth. It was another to read about one in your class.

Kevin pushed his chair back, opened the center drawer of his desk, and retrieved a piece of paper he had found on the floor on his first day of school. He had looked at the drawing nearly every day as a source of inspiration. Today the picture of the flying saucer reminded him of the random and often cruel nature of life.

He put the picture back in the drawer and settled in his chair as the tears that had welled in his eyes finally began to flow. He knew he had lost more than a promising student in the prime of his youth. He had lost one of the reasons he had taught in the first place. He had lost the boy who had looked past the sky to the possibilities beyond. Kevin Johnson had lost his dreamer.

CHAPTER 51: KEVIN

Saturday, May 28, 1910

Kevin laughed to himself as he considered the irony. He had been invited to dinner because of what he had given, but he had been able to attend because of what he had
taken
. Had he not liberated the hidden assets of Asa Johnson, he would not have been able to travel to 1910, live in Wallace for three months, and help Asa and his family with assorted chores and projects.

He knew he hadn't literally stolen from them. One could not steal from those who had been dead for decades. If Kevin had ripped off anyone, it had been his relatives in 2013 and perhaps the IRS and the Idaho State Tax Commission. Even so, he had to admit it was kind of funny to be sitting at Asa's dinner table while he figuratively sat on a significant share of his ill-gotten gains.

"Thank you for helping me put up the shelves," Asa said as he reached for a plate of roasted potatoes. "That was very kind of you."

"It's the least I could do for the reference you gave me. I don't think I would have been hired without it. If you ever need help with anything else, just let me know. I'll be there."

Kevin meant it too. He may have taken much of Asa's fortune, but he still cared for the man. Asa was his noble ancestor, after all, the patriarch of the American Johnson clan, even if for most of Kevin's life he had existed only in Grandpa Roger's reunion books.

Celia gave Lloyd some peas to throw from his high chair, cut Randolph's meat and potatoes, and sat down in the chair to Kevin's left. She put a napkin in her lap, helped herself to some of the feast she had fixed, and turned to her guest.

"You haven't told us much about your job, Mr. Johnson," she said. "Have you enjoyed your time at the high school?"

"I have. I love my students and love teaching them science, but I have to admit that I haven't been able to teach them much lately. The school hasn't been the same since Josh Miller died."

"I imagine it hasn't. When someone loses a child in this town, we all grieve. We knew Josh through our church. He was a special young man."

Kevin couldn't argue with that. Shortly after learning of the boy's death, he had learned that Josh had dazzled more than a few teachers through the years. He had turned in dozens of stories and essays about space travel and extraterrestrial life. Wallace had lost not only a promising student but also an imaginative and prolific writer of science fiction.

"Yes, he was," Kevin said. "He was one of my brightest students and by far the most creative. I still have a picture that he drew in class. I intend to frame it and give it to his parents."

"I think they would like that."

Kevin smiled sadly at Celia and then took a moment to consider the people in the room. He had thought about the Johnsons often since popping out of their rock shed on Valentine's Day. He had thought about what he could do to help them now and prepare at least three of them for a difficult transition that only he knew was coming.

Kevin glanced first at Asa, who sat in his usual chair at one end of the table. He knew there wasn't a thing he could do to save him. The man had deteriorated so much in the past few weeks that Kevin wondered whether he would even make it to July. When he looked at the head of the household, he saw a man with low energy and a pasty face, a man with a foot in the grave.

Then there was his wife. Celia had never remarried, according to reunion literature. She had never hitched her wagon to another man's star or even made the most of her dead husband's money, like Maude Duvalier and countless other wealthy widows.

Kevin found that astonishing. Celia was young, beautiful, and as cultured as any woman in town. She could have done anything after Asa's death, but she hadn't. She had lived modestly and quietly in Wallace until her death in 1942.

Kevin wondered whether she would do it again. Had he influenced her life just enough to alter its course? He didn't know. What he did know is that Celia had the means to live out her years in comfort. When Asa had died the first time around, he had left his wife and sons not only a magnificent house but also a small fortune in liquid assets – assets that had been put in known and accessible places like vaults and safe-deposit boxes.

When Kevin turned to Randolph, he felt just plain sad. He felt like Marty McFly in
Back to the Future
when the time traveler advised his trouble-bound Uncle Joey, sitting in his playpen, to "get used to these bars." Kevin had the feeling that nothing he had done as a time traveler would prevent this rowdy little boy from finding trouble later in life.

Then there was Lloyd, the good son. Kevin had decided long ago that the best thing he could do for the baby, his great-grandfather, was to simply get out of his way. Celia had apparently done a wonderful job raising her second child because he had turned out to be an incredible man. Kevin had no reason to believe Lloyd wouldn't turn out to be incredible again.

Kevin took a bite of roast beef, poured thick gravy on his potatoes, and settled into his seat. He started to drift back to Celia when Asa restarted the conversation.

"Has Ed Morrison decided to keep you on?" he asked.

"He hasn't talked to me yet about next year," Kevin said. "I suspect that he will when we meet on June 8. That's when he'll review my performance."

"Well, I hope he decides to retain you. I hope you decide to stay. This town needs more educators like you. I've heard nothing but good things from students and parents."

"So have I," Celia added.

"I appreciate your support. I honestly don't know what he's going to do and, to tell you the truth, I don't know what I'll tell him even if he does ask me to come back."

Kevin didn't either. He knew that he couldn't, in good conscience, commit to a whole year. He didn't plan to stay twelve more weeks, much less twelve more months, but he also didn't plan to return to 2013 alone. If Sarah needed time to think over a run to the future, he would give her that time. Her situation was a problem he had yet to solve.

"Don't you like Wallace?" Celia asked.

"Oh, I love it. I love living here and teaching here. I've never had a better job. I just don't want to commit to anything before I've had a chance to consider all of my options."

"You're a prudent man, Mr. Johnson," Asa said. "I often wonder where I'd be had I not weighed all of my options at your age."

"I don't understand."

Asa put his knife and fork on his plate.

"I didn't come to this country a rich man. When I left England in ninety-four, I was twenty-five. I had my clothes, my wits, and skills I had learned in a trading house but not much else. When I arrived in New York, I worked on Wall Street and did well for a while. In time, I might have done very well. But I wanted more. So I considered the possibilities and came here. I found my fortune by taking another road. Sometimes it pays to look around."

"I agree. That's why I'm taking my time. I have many factors to consider."

Celia smiled.

"Would these factors include a lovely educator who lives down the street?"

Kevin blushed fifty shades of red.

"You know her?"

"I know about her," Celia said. "A neighbor told me that 'our handsome new science teacher is dating our beautiful new English teacher.' Wallace is a small town, Mr. Johnson."

Kevin laughed.

"I guess it is."

Kevin recalled the April 30 ride with Sadie and wondered whether the astute Mrs. Johnson had figured out that the woman on the horse and the woman down the street were not one and the same. He guessed that she had.

"Your neighbor is right. I am, in fact, seeing one of my colleagues. I expect she'll be an important consideration when I decide what to do."

"I'm glad to hear that love still ranks high as a motivator of men."

"In this case, it ranks very high," Kevin said.

Asa and Celia laughed

"I'm just teasing," Celia said with an ice-melting smile. "I'm sure you'll strike the right balance between your personal and professional interests. That's the way it should be."

"Thanks again for the vote of confidence," Kevin said.

The banter continued for another hour and was followed by dessert and a game of cards. Asa and Kevin talked about politics, the economy, and a drought that was well into its third month. They also discussed what each of them could do to improve the area's public schools.

By the time the conversation had run its course, Kevin had developed an even higher regard for Asa, his wife, and even the boys who had yet to become men. He no longer thought of the Johnsons of Garnet Street as his friends but rather as the family they were.

At nine Kevin decided to call it a night. He thanked Celia for the dinner, said goodbye to the boys, and walked with Asa to the door.

"I want you to know that you are always welcome here," Asa said. "Even if you decide to leave Wallace, you can count on us for a meal and a place to stay."

"Be careful what you say, Asa. I may take you up on that."

Both men laughed.

"Take care," Asa said.

"You too."

Kevin smiled as he thought of the evening and the offer. He would come back, and the next time he would bring Sarah. He couldn't imagine a more entertaining evening than the four adults exchanging views and stories around that dinner table.