The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 14 -- A Quick Peek

Halloween arrived.  Despite his lack of enthusiasm, Sam agreed to go out with his Grandpa Henry, a job once filled by his dad.  This would be the first year with a new chaperone.  For his costume, Sam dressed up like Sherlock Holmes using an old tweed overcoat his Grandpa Henry had given him.  From his center desk drawer, he retrieved his magnifying glass with the fake bone handle, a gift from his mom for his last birthday.  Sam needed one more item to complete the outfit.

"Where is it?" Sam rummaged through the bottom dresser drawer until he felt what he was looking for.  His dad's old deer-stalker cap.  Standing in front of the mirror, he put it on.   Sam stared, allowing his mind to stray for a moment, to the last time he saw his dad wear it.  His eyes teared up and he had to refocus.

"Sam... or should I say Mr. Holmes, are you ready for some trick or treating or maybe some sleuthing?" asked Grandpa Henry coming to his bedroom door.  His Grandma and Grandpa Henry had arrived earlier with a bag of goodies for Sam.  They had brought Sam his favorite Halloween candy -- peanut butter cups and milk chocolate bars.

"Yes, Dr. Watson," said Sam.  "I'm ready."

"Alright, you two be careful," said Grandma Henry, pouring herself a glass of red wine.  "Don't let the goblins get you..."

"Okay, Grandma," said Grandpa Henry.

"Right-on, Grandaddeo..."  Grandma Henry raised her glass in toast.

Trick-or-treaters and their parents paraded up and down the steps to the houses and the sidewalk.  Mrs. Steers was ready for them.  Not only did she have the largest house, but she also had the most decorated for Halloween.  Two large carved pumpkins with glowing grins greeted guests.  Bed-sheet ghosts with dark eyes hung from the rafters and swayed in the breeze.  Bundles of corn stalks were wrapped and tied around the porch columns.

After about an hour, Sam and Grandpa Henry returned home.  Mrs. Steers was dressed in black and was talking to a middle-aged woman Sam didn't recognize.  As they reached the top step, a pointy-nosed witch leaped out from behind a porch column.  Her frizzy green hair stuck out from underneath a black pointed hat.

"Stop, I say," she said in squeaky voice.  "Or I'll turn you into a frog!"

Sam rolled his eyes.  "Excuse me?"

"It's just me. Bon."  She pushed back her fake pointy nose.

"Oh. Hey, Bon.  Great costume.  I didn't recognize you."

"Thanks," said Bon.  "I didn't realize you lived around here."

"Yeah, my mom and I rent the apartment upstairs."

"Cool," said Bon. "You get to live in this great place!  It always reminded me of a haunted house.   Have you seen any ghosts?"

Before Sam could answer, Mrs. Steers butted in.

"Hi, Sam," said Mrs. Steers.  "And you must be Grandpa Henry?"   They shook hands.  Mrs. Steers introduced Bon's mom, Veronica.

"Sam, I know your mom from the library," said Veronica.   "I appreciate all her help with my research. She’s found me lots of great recipes."

Sam acknowledged her compliment with a smile.  "She's upstairs.  Would you like to come up?"  They accepted with "for just a moment" and headed up.  Mrs. Steers said goodnight and stepped back inside.

"Hey." Emily was surprised to see Veronica and Bon.  While they visited, Sam asked Bon if she would like to see his latest attempt at a building block creation.

"Sure."  Bon took off her fake nose and put it into her bag with her loot.  I like being a witch but I wish this nose was more comfortable."  Sam led the way into his bedroom to show her the three building street scene he had created on a table in front of the window.

"How long have you been working on this?" asked Bon.  "It doesn't look finished."

"About a month," said Sam in a somber voice.   "I'll finish someday.  My dad and I built stuff together."

"You miss your dad."  Bon noted his tone.  Sam didn't answer, instead he was peering out the window.  Bon looked out to see what caught his attention.  Xavier Graff walked with a broad-shouldered robust man and a wildly dressed woman.  They crossed the street and came up the steps to the house.

"Mrs. Steers sure has some weirdo guests," said Bon.  "Aren't they a little old to be trick-or-treating?  I've never seen them around here."

"The shorter guy was talking to Mrs. Steers the other day about some kind of plan...  Maybe they're part of a gang?"

"What?  Mrs. Steers involved with a gang?  No way." Bon shook her head. "She doesn't look like the type.  They're probably late trick-or-treaters."  They watched them disappear up onto the porch.

Sam said, "Let's go down and peek in the windows and see what they're up to."

"Why?" said Bon.  "They just dress weird that doesn't mean they're up to something."

"Oh please.  You saw them.  Do they look like your typical trick-or-treaters?" said Sam. "I'll tell you what I think, Mrs. Steers is up to something.  Don't you think she's mysterious?"  He pondered for a moment.  What if he told Bon about the time-traveling stories?  No. Sam was afraid she might tell her mom and then she might tell his mom.  And that might get him in trouble.

"Hmmm," said Bon.  "You know about Mrs. Steers' husband, don't you? One day he went sailing and his boat sank.  They never found his body. Or at least that's what I heard.  You've talked to her.  Has she said anything about him?"

"Well, some..." Sam thought hard now about Mrs. Steers' stories and whether he should tell Bon.  He caved, making her promise not to tell, and told her about the time-travel.  Bon stared at him for a moment before saying anything.

"That's the most bizarre story I've ever heard."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me."  Sam shook his head.

"Ok.  If you're so smart, let's go down and see what they're up to," said Bon.

They told to their parents that they were going down to check out at the decorations one last time.  When they got to the porch, it was dark and Mrs. Steers' front door was closed.  The streetlamps provided some light.  First, they checked the front windows, but the curtains were drawn tight.   They snuck down the porch stairs and around to the end of the house.  No luck at any of those windows. The back porch spanned half the length of the house, so they could easily look in each window.

As they started to climb up the porch steps, the first one squeak. Sam stopped immediately looking behind him at Bon then started up again.

"Look, there's some light in that far corner window," whispered Sam.  They snuck over and peered in through the crack in the curtains.   "I've not seen this room of the house.  It must be the back parlor."

A fireplace similar to the one in the front parlor stood on the outside wall.  Books packed the built-in bookcases around the room.  Framed photographs and knick-knacks lined the mantel.  Above the mantel hung a painting of an Egyptian scene with pyramids and workers along a dark river.  Multicolored cushions were scattered on the floor.

In the center of the room, five high-backed chairs sat in a circle around a cloth-covered table with a large oil lamp in the center.  All the chairs, but one, were occupied. Mrs. Steers, Xavier Graff, and the other two sat with their eyes closed as if they were in trances, napping, or in deep concentration.  The warm flickering flame of the lamp glowed on their faces.

"What are they doing?" whispered Bon.

"I don't know... maybe it's a seance," said Sam confidently.

"I bet they're trying to communicate with the late Mr. Steers," said Bon.

They watched for what felt like an eternity. The chair's occupants didn't move, sitting perfectly still like wax dummies. 

“This is crazy,” whispered Bon, getting restless.  “They’re just taking naps. And besides I’m tired.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Let’s go back upstairs.”

Bon's mom spoke up.  "All right you two.  It's time to break up this party and head for home." 

The long evening was over.

"Give me a kiss, Sam," said Grandma Henry.  Sam pecked her on the cheek. "Did you have fun tonight? Not the same as your Dad, was it?  He used to call me on Halloween night and tell us about the fun you two had."   Sam nodded, trying not to look at her.  She gave him another hug.

"Alright, Broom-Hilda," said Grandpa Henry.  "Time to get your broom out of the closet so we can go."  Grandma Henry shook her finger at him and stuck her tongue out.  They left, heading over to a nearby bed and breakfast for the night.

"That was totally weird downstairs," said Bon.  "You should ask her if she knows how to contact the dead.   That would be cool if I could talk directly to Queen Victoria, then I could write it into my report. Wouldn't it be great if you could talk to Jack the Ripper?  Your report would get an A+, don't you think?"  Sam flashed her a glance like she was nuts.

"Oh yeah, right!   There's a couple of problems with that plan.  First, what am I going to say?" said Sam.  "Excuse me, Mrs. Steers, but could we talk to Jack the Ripper.  Second, what is Mr. Martin going to say?"

"Fine," said Bon.  "Why don't you have her teach you to time-travel?  I dare you."

"Alright, I'll take you up on your dare.  I'll ask her to teach me how to do.   Then maybe she'll stop telling me those stupid stories about her adventures into the great beyond.  I'll talk with her tomorrow." 

 The dare was on.  Bon and her mom left for the evening.  Sam changed into his pajamas.  He thought about the dare and what would come of it.  Was Mrs. Steers playing a game?   His mind wandered into one of his daydreams…

He was sitting on a large stage in an vast auditorium filled with scientists wearing white lab coats.  The murmur echoed softly.  A portly scientist with a goatee and small round glasses stepped up to the podium and spoke into the microphone.

"Attention, please.  May I have your attention?  Fellow scientists, we have with us today a most distinguished scholar, avid researcher, and fellow scientist.  His work on time-travel has revolutionized the way we think about ourselves, our history, and the universe.  I am please to introduce Dr. Samuel Henry.

Sam stepped up onto a wooden crate in order to see over the high podium.

"My fellow scientists," said Sam leaning into the microphone.  " I have successfully time traveled to numerous places and eras over the past several months.  I am pleased to announce I am now willing to teach the world to time travel."

A roar of applause echoed throughout the auditorium.   Sam smiled and bowed as the crowd began to chant his name... "Henry! Henry!"

"Samuel…  Samuel Henry!"  Sam came back to reality to find his mom standing in his bedroom door. "Sam, I've been calling you. Didn't you hear me?"

"What?  Sorry, Mom," said Sam.  "I was thinking about the fun we had tonight."  Sam followed Emily into the kitchen.

Sam opened the refrigerator door to retrieve the milk and spied a jar of strawberry jelly.

"Mom, I have a question?  Did you tell Mrs. Steers what kind of jelly I like?"

Emily stood at the kitchen sink rinsing dirty glasses.  "Not that I remember.  We talk a lot about writing and my books, but nothing that personal.  Why?"

"Oh nothing, just wondering," said Sam. "She knew my favorite jelly was strawberry.   I just wondered if you had mentioned it."  Sam poured himself some milk.

"Maybe I did," said Emily.   "We chatted about so much I may have said something about it.  Or maybe she reads minds."   Emily grinned.

"Really?  Do you think she can?"

"I doubt it.  Off to bed."

"Good night."  After handing her the empty glass, Sam gave his mom a hug.  He shut his bedroom door behind him.

He crawled into bed pulling the soft blanket up to his chin.   Now he had to make a plan to talk Mrs. Steers into teaching him how to time-travel.  He had a dare to fulfill.