The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 10 -- Another Visit

The next morning, Sam packed his homework into his book bag, put on his winter jacket, and waited ready to leave.  Emily grabbed her purse and rummaged in it.   She glanced over at the kitchen counter and spotted her keys.

"Now Sam, remember I'm won't be home until late.  I'm hosting the book group discussion tonight.  Why they chose Gone with the Wind is beyond me?"  Emily muttered, grabbing her keys.

Outside, fall had officially arrived.  Colder weather had moved in.  The trees had lost most of their leaves.

"Come straight home after school.  When you get here, I want you let Mrs. Steers know you're home.  I told her you'll be by yourself until I get home about eight."

Great, he thought, rolling his eyes.  The crazy lady knows I'll be home alone.  She'll probably want to tell me more of her stupid stories.   They parted at their usual corner.

Sam walked on to school, hoping the day would drag, helping to prolong going back home to Mrs. Steers.  But luck wasn’t with him.  The school day flew by.  The punctual final bell shrilled.  Sam meandered home, stewing over his school assignments, trying not to think about the crazy old Mrs. Steers.

Needing a topic for his science fair project, Sam’s mind wandered to what he could do.

Maybe something with butterflies, he thought remembering his school field trip to the zoo last May.  The butterfly display was fascinating.   Sam also thought about trees, but they had lost their leaves as he kicked a few of them on the sidewalk.

I should have collected a bunch of them at the beginning of the school year when the teacher assigned the project when the leaves were still green.  Same with the butterflies.

Turning onto Woodruff Street, only a half block to home, Sam pulled out the keys to the front door so he could be ready.

Okay, here's the plan, he thought. I can knock on her door, tell her I'm home and run upstairs.

Reaching the top step, Sam saw her front door was closed.  He rang the doorbell and waited, ready to dash.  He waited and waited, deciding she wasn't home and headed upstairs.   After putting his book bag in his bedroom, he returned to the kitchen.

"Sam, welcome home."  Sam jumped.   Mrs. Steers had come down from the attic and now stood in the laundry room doorway.  She was holding a book, something folded that looked like a map, and the red box with the newspaper in it.  Sam eyed the box, really wanting to ask her about the newspaper.   This might be his chance, but before he could say anything, she started talking.

"I was looking for one of my old maps, the one for 1880s London, and a couple of travel books.  Albert found this map in an antique shop one time and thought it would be useful for our other time explorations."  Mrs. Steers set them on the washing machine and walked into the kitchen.

"Mrs. Steers, I have to be honest," said Sam slightly shaking his head.  "These stories you've told are crazy.  It's not possible to time travel."

"Oh, Sam, I've known from the beginning you wouldn't believe me." Mrs. Steers waved her hand as if to say "so what."  "We must talk.  I can't let you go on believing I've gone off my rocker, but first, I ordered pizza.  I love sausage and cheese.  How about you?"

"That's fine."  Sam didn't care about the pizza. Regardless, it meant spending an evening with someone ready for the crazy-house who believed time-travel was possible.

Sam and Mrs. Steers sat at the kitchen table.   Mrs. Steers had poured two glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade.  Sam quietly ate his slice of pizza, trying not to look at her. But he finally gave in and had to ask her.  "So Mrs. Steers, how did you and Albert make this time travel happen?"

Finishing off her last bite of pizza, Mrs. Steers wiped her face with her napkin. "I thought you would never ask. I remember Albert talking about his experiments and adventures and memorizing incantations.  For the first few months, I would nod my head and smile whenever Albert talked about them.  He would disappear into the attic, and then come down to my sewing room.  I would be working on a project or mending something.

He would say "Well, Lottie, did you miss me?  I've been gone for hours.  And proceed to tell me about where he had been… Brazil… France…  China… some major historical event... the crash of the Hindenburg… the assassination of the Arch Duke Ferdinand… the crowning of Queen Elizabeth…  I'd reply with something like "Yes, dear.  Are you ready for lunch?"  Albert would look at me as if to say "Lottie, dear, seeing is believing."

"So one day, he asked me if I wanted to try it with him. At first, I thought he was kidding…  But no, he wasn't.  He told me that it was time I learned the time-traveling incantation. That was the first time we time-traveled together," said Mrs. Steers grinning.

"We weren't sure if we could travel together… but we did.  I had told him I wanted to see someone I knew, maybe when they were young.  I saw my mother when she was four years old. My mother was a cute little girl.   Her brother Matthew was only a year old at the time.   He had the curliest blond hair.  When he was eighteen, Matthew went west.  I only have photographs of him as a child.  Mother didn't talk about him much.  She didn't know what happened to him.  

That first experience traveling back worked so well.   You know, I must admit I thought Albert was as crazy as you think I am, but Sam, it worked.  Albert taught me how to relax, breathe slowly, and concentrate on the words of the incantation."

Sam sighed, hating to burst her excitement.  "Mrs. Steers, are you saying you and Albert actually traveled back in time to see... people... and stuff happen?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Steers.  "We saw many famous historical moments, attractions, and famous people after that first trip.  Of course, I was afraid the first few times.  I worried about not getting back or about how this whole thing worked, but Albert assured me it was safe."

For the next hour, Mrs. Steers described several of their trips -- the pyramids being built, the crowning of Henry the 8th, and Lincoln's assassination. 

Sam listened patiently but thought. This old lady misses her dead husband so bad she's wandered off into another world.

"Look, Mrs. Steers, these sound like great stories, but..." Sam looked straight into her eyes.  "It's not true.  I mean... there is no such thing as magic, incantations, spells taking you to other times...   It doesn't work..."

Mrs. Steers sat back into her chair.  "Sam, why do you say that?"

"I...  well...", Sam stuttered trying to find the right words.  "I don't believe it's possible.   It didn't work for my dad... so why would it work at all?"

As Mrs. Steers was about to question him more.  His mom was home.