Out of Time (4 page)

“Perhaps early thirties, I’ll need to check.”

Research—the haven for a logical mind. Simon always sought refuge in detail, in the search for answers. His entire career had been built on the foundation that anything could be proven, no matter how incredible it sounded, if the right research was performed.

“Check what?” Elizabeth asked following his gaze to the mouth of the alley before turning back and squeezing his arm more tightly. “I think you’d better tell me what the hell’s going on.”

Simon held out the watch and stared down at the complicated dials. “If I’m reading this properly, I’d say it’s 1929. July 17th, 1929 to be exact.”

Elizabeth let go of his arm and stepped back. Her voice trembled and she shook her head in denial. “That’s impossible.”

A fresh wave of guilt washed over Simon. He couldn’t afford to give in to it. He cleared his throat and attempted to explain, but for the moment, could offer only, “It seems that my grandfather was more than merely eccentric.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her expression blank. “Are you saying that thing’s really some sort of time machine?”

“Apparently.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Apparently not.”

She put her fists on her hips and looked at him accusingly. “You’re awfully calm about this.”

He was anything but calm. Still, he knew they had to keep a clear head if they were going to find a way out of this mess. “Would you prefer I panic?”

“A little, yeah. I mean—Hello! Time travel. Not an everyday thing,” she said, a frown coming to her face. “Unless, you’ve done this before.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

She dropped her arms to her sides in an uncharacteristic huff. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to be absurd standing in an alley in
Nineteen Twenty-Nine
.”

Simon took a deep calming breath. “I assure you, if I had any idea what this watch was capable of…”

Elizabeth relented. “I know. I’m sorry,” she said, nodding. She put one hand to her hip and pulled the other through the length of her hair as she turned and surveyed the alley again. “Can you undo it? Put it in reverse or whatever?”

“I don’t think we should stumble ahead blindly.”

“Worked getting us here.”

Simon blanched at the remark. Whatever had happened to them was his fault. He could bear that, if there were a way to undo it.

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

“No, you’re quite right, Miss West.” The weight of their situation truly dawned on him. If he’d been alone he could have faced it without pause. But now, for the first time in his life, he was responsible for someone else. “The situation is entirely my fault.”

Simon felt the unaccustomed need to comfort welling inside him again. Compassion had never been a strong suit of his. If anything, the opposite was true. “You do know that I would never knowingly endanger you.”

She paled a little more. “I know that. I…You think I’m in…I mean, we’re in danger?”

“We’re in an unknown situation. I’d prefer to err on the side of caution.”

“Agreed. Let’s err there.”

Simon couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. It was more than the lingering memories of his dream. More than the situation they’d been thrust into. He’d never given much credence to hunches, but he had a sense he’d started something in motion bringing them here. Something he wouldn’t be able to control. Something inevitable.

“Professor?” Elizabeth said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Maybe we should try to get back home?”

“Agreed. But the question remains—how?”

“We’ll just re-create everything,” she continued, her usual exuberance returning. “You were holding the watch. Did you do anything to it? Push any buttons?”

“The stem did extend, but…”

“Okay. Just do exactly what you did before.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise. I’d much rather be sure of what I’m doing before I make another mistake.”

“It’s worth—”

A thick metal door swung open with a loud clang. Elizabeth jumped at the sound and grabbed Simon’s arm. A large, burly, unshaven man stepped into the alley. His white undershirt was stained a sickly yellow with sweat. “What you doin’ here?”

Simon put his hand over Elizabeth’s and pulled her slightly behind him. He turned to glare at the man. “We were simply—”

“Do it someplace else,” the man growled with a thick Brooklyn accent, as he threw his bucket of empty bottles into a nearby trash bin. “Go on, get out of here!”

Simon ignored the man and started to turn back to Elizabeth.

“You want I should call the cops?” the man said with a sneer, as he looked Elizabeth up and down. She was wearing a tight blue T-shirt and jeans, but his eyes traveled her figure as if she were naked. Her clothes were far too form-fitting for the period to be anything other than something a tramp would wear. “Take your quiff and get a room.”

Simon’s body tensed. He slowly pulled out of her grasp and took a long direct stride toward the man. “I beg your pardon?”

The big man only smiled. “You heard me.”

Simon started forward again, but Elizabeth pulled on his arm.

“We can’t afford to see the police,” she whispered. “Let’s just go.”

Simon’s eyes flared, and he turned back to the big man. Long dormant emotions boiled to the fore. His instinct to defend Elizabeth crashed into his common sense. He’d known more than his fair share of bullies, and most could be cowed with a biting remark. But this was something different. He’d never felt such an overwhelming desire to punch someone in the mouth.

“Professor,” Elizabeth urged and tugged on his arm.

Simon gave the man a long, steely glare before he turned back to Elizabeth. Without another word, he took her by the arm and led her out of the alley.

“Good idea, Professor,” the man called out after them.

Elizabeth could feel Simon’s tension and anger radiating off him as they walked away. They’d nearly gone halfway down the block before he relaxed enough to finally release her. Frowning and apparently embarrassed by his show of emotion, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help, but grin. “You’d better stop apologizing. Might be habit forming.”

Simon smiled back. Why couldn’t he have smiled like that back home? Had to be here, she thought, and looked around at the busy street. Wherever here was.

The cars were huge, and there were so many of them. Big black sedans with cloth-canopied tops and headlamps sticking out like bug eyes meandered along the street creating some semblance of lanes. The foot traffic surged around them, and Elizabeth felt terribly underdressed. Some men wore knickers and bow ties, or Oxford bag pants that ballooned as they walked past. Every one of them wore a hat. Fedoras and bowlers. And the women too. They all had on hats. Tight-fitting cloches or veiled peekaboos. And dresses.

A couple glared at her, whispering disapproval as they noticed her pants. Not one woman wore slacks, only dresses and skirts. Some wore their hose turned-down in a risqué fashion statement, but clearly wearing blue jeans was not something a lady did. All too aware that she was showing off her limited goods, Elizabeth self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest.

Hundreds of cars and thousands of people teemed around them in a dizzying rush. More and more passersby gave them odd, disapproving looks.

A young boy with a ragged, woolen cap strode past them. “Paper! Get your paper here!”

Simon startled her as he called out. “Boy!”

The young man came over to them and held out a paper. Simon reached into his pockets and came out empty. And even if he had change, she realized, they couldn’t start spreading twenty-first century money into the past.

“Sorry, I don’t…” Simon showed the boy his empty palm.

The newsboy sighed, but then noticed Elizabeth for the first time. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Ain’t you the stuff?”

He couldn’t have been more than twelve, and by no means a threat, but she couldn’t help but feel a little tingle when Simon stepped closer to her and glared at the boy. But she couldn’t dwell on that. Using Simon’s momentary distraction of the boy to her advantage, she used opportunity to get a glance at the paper.

“Just lookin’,” the kid said quickly and started back down the street.

Elizabeth leaned in and whispered in Simon’s ear. “You were right. July 17, 1929. And the Yankees lost again.”

Simon raised his eyebrow in question.

“Read the headline.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, but then cleared his throat and looked away.

Her stomach fluttered at the compliment, not to mention how adorable he was when he was flustered. “And we know that you can read the watch.”

“True,” he said, pulling her closer as the crowd surged across the intersection. He led her to an empty doorway away from the mass of people. “But, I’m afraid, reading and manipulating are far different things.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Simon didn’t seem so sure. He looked down at the watch once more before he put it in his pocket. “This may take some time.”

The doubt in his voice sent a shiver up her spine. He’d never been anything but certain, and to see him off-balance was incredibly disconcerting. But why should it all be on his shoulders? She wanted to allay his fears, but she knew him. Recognizing he had them would be an insult. Better to lighten the mood. If anyone was ever in need of a little cheering up, it was Simon. “If my boss doesn’t mind that I’m late,” she said. “Then I’m game.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “You will be docked pay, of course.”

Elizabeth laughed, but it didn’t last long. They couldn’t exactly stand around on the street while he figured out the watch. There was no telling how long that might take and the sun was already dipping behind the buildings.

Their current, hopefully temporary situation was surreal, but she could deal with it. What choice was there? They just needed a plan. Time for some acting and not just reacting.

“So,” she said. “We’re going to need shelter, at least for the night.”

“Yes. I’d prefer not to stay on the streets. I doubt New York has changed that much in the last seventy years.”

“Right.”

“And we’ll need clothes,” Simon added. “I’m afraid we’re garnering a bit too much attention as we are.”

Elizabeth’s stomach growled loudly.

“And evidently food,” he continued. “Preferably something not out of garbage can.”

“So we need money,” Elizabeth summarized. It always came down to money, didn’t it?

“So it would seem,” he agreed. “Any ideas?”

She shrugged. “I guess we’ll do it the old fashioned way.”

He nearly choked. “Prostitution? Miss West, I—”

She put a hand on his arm. “Pawn something,” she clarified.

He hesitated. “We can do that?”

Elizabeth swallowed the laugh that threatened to bubble up. He seemed genuinely alarmed at the idea. “It’s not the best bang for your buck, but when you’re in a pinch.” She shrugged. “I think this qualifies as a pinch.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know…” he said and then held out his hands helplessly.

Elizabeth smiled. This she knew how to do. It was a good feeling to be able to help. “I do. We need jewelry, things like that are the easiest to pawn. What do you have?”

Simon took stock of his personal items. She’d never seen him wear jewelry of any kind, except for his wristwatch. He pulled back the sleeve of his sweater and took off the watch. “Will this do? It’s not a very modern design.”

Elizabeth took the watch and frowned. “Broken,” she said. The crystal was smashed. “Must have happened when we crash landed.”

Simon put the watch back on his wrist. “Your necklace?” he asked.

Elizabeth self-consciously tugged at the chain. “Not worth anything. My ring’s a fake too,” she added with an embarrassed smile.

She’d never had any real jewelry, certainly nothing worth pawning. She looked down at her ring. Fat lot of good it would do them. They needed something real, something gold.

“The ring!” she blurted and then without further explanation took off back down the street.

She’d nearly forgotten it in all the excitement, but she’d been holding it when they’d…done whatever they’d done to end up here.

Elizabeth turned the corner and hurried back into the alley, glad to see the big steel door was shut again.

When Simon caught up, she was on her hands and knees crawling around on the pavement in the alley.

“What in God’s name are you doing woman?”

“Ah-ha!” she cried and jumped to her feet. She held out her hand to him in triumph. In her palm rested the small scarab ring. “I thought I remembered holding it when the watch did its thing.”

Simon’s face paled as he took the ring from her. Elizabeth watched the play of emotions across his face, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s a good thing, right?” she asked. His face was ashen. “Bad penny?”

Simon looked up at her and clenched the ring in his hand. “Very much so.”

She waited, but he offered nothing else in the way of explanation. “We can find another way.”

“No,” Simon said and put it away in his pocket. “It should bring a good price.”

He stood up a little straighter and nodded toward the street.

“It’s getting late,” he said. Everything about his demeanor had changed. All the emotions he’d let seep out were tucked neatly away. Even his voice was different. Crisp and business-like. What was it about that ring that frightened him so much? The tension in his body was palpable. “We should find a pawn shop.”

“Right.”

Simon stepped back and gestured toward the mouth of the alley. His face was again an impassive mask as they headed back out. Elizabeth’s eyes darted toward the street. Despite Simon’s mood change, she felt a sense of calm acceptance start to take root. If life had taught her anything, it was that she couldn’t control anything except her response to it. Especially when the unexpected happened—like a little unplanned trip back in time.

She could do only one thing. If she wanted to survive, she had to take each day as it came and mine the good from the bad, as she’d always done. At least this time, she wasn’t alone. She let out a deep breath and glanced over at Simon. Together they rounded the corner and stepped into the past and into their future.