The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 43 -- Feeling Better

"I deeply appreciate you watching Sam," said Emily.

"Think nothing of it," said Mrs. Steers.  "Sam is such a nice boy. I hope that it's not anything serious."

"No.  The doctor said the flu is going around."  Emily put on her coat, grabbing her bag, and headed out the door.

Mrs. Steers looked in at Sam.  She could only see the top of his head under the blankets, so she went back into her part of the house, accidentally bumping into the door.  It banged against the wall.  She stopped to listen in case she had woken him.  Hearing nothing, she left.

Sam opened his eyes.  The clock read 9:34 a.m.  He had woken twice in the night, only to fall asleep soon after.   His fever had broken and his pajamas and sheets were soaked again with sweat.

"Mom?   Are you out there?"  Silence. Sam threw off the blankets. Although it was warm in the apartment, the air still sent a chill over him. Sam crept out into the living room.  He noticed the door in the laundry room was open.

Sam grabbed clean clothes and headed to the bathroom.  After twenty minutes of standing under warm water, he dried, dressed, and heard his stomach rumble.  After stuffing his wet clothes in the hamper, Sam opened the bathroom door.

"Sam, are you okay?"  Sam jumped.  Mrs. Steers was sitting on the sofa, knitting.

"I'm fine.  Where's my mom?"  Sam went to the kitchen and grabbed some crackers.

"She went to work for a little while."  Mrs. Steers looked up from her knitting. "Goodness, you look tired."

"Yea, I am."  Sam sunk into a nearby chair and closed his eyes.  He dozed for a few moments, listening to the clicking of knitting needles.

"Are you awake?" said Mrs. Steers, not missing a stitch.

Sam opened his eyes.

"Now you've experienced your first, and hopefully only case, of time-traveling sickness."

"What?  Really?" said Sam.

"After the first trip, I was sick for three days, but now I never get sick. You'll get used to it."

Sam looked at her uninterested. "Sorry, I'd be more excited, but I'm so tired."

"I understand. Why don't you go back to bed and rest a little?  I think in a few hours you'll feel better."

Sam trudged back to his newly made-up bed.

"I put on clean sheets," said Mrs Steers.  Your others were soaked.  A good sweat will do you good. Gets rid of all the toxins."

Sam thanked her and crawled into bed.  As she closed his bedroom curtains, she spotted someone outside coming up the sidewalk. It was Rose.

"Sam, I'll be back in a while.  I'll leave the laundry room door open."

Sam rolled over on his side and shut his eyes.

Mrs. Steers hurried down the stairs. Rose was just coming in.

"Did you master that locating incantation?" asked Mrs. Steers.  "I would truly be amazed."

Rose slipped off her coat and hung it on the coat rack. "I wish. That would make me a champion. Nobody's mastered that one. Well... maybe a couple a long time ago.  I met with Trenda and Xavier. Trenda said they are willing to help. We also had a guest. Bruno showed up. We took care of him."

"What did he want?" said Mrs. Steers, putting the tea kettle on to boil, then retrieved two mugs.

"Nothing. He was spying. Without a doubt, the Doctor wants to know what we're up to. I guess he thinks turnabout is fair play."

"Did we learn anything from Bruno?" Mrs. Steers got a chilled apple pie from the refrigerator and sliced two pieces.

"No. The doctor seems to have something up his sleeve other than his arm, but what his plans are... Who knows." Rose shrugged her shoulders while grabbing two plates and forks.

The tea kettle began to whistle. Mrs. Steers turned off the stove and poured the boiling water into the a teapot.

"We'll find out eventually," said Mrs. Steers.

Meanwhile upstairs, Sam tossed and turned, so he got back up and stretched. Now, he felt a little better.

Shuffling towards the kitchen, he passed the laundry room and saw the open door. The dimly-lit hallway seemed to call to him, beckoning him to explore. Sam couldn't resist.

Sneaking into the upstairs hallway, he immediately felt the temperature change.  The floral-patterned wallpaper was dark like the hallway wallpaper downstairs. Closed doors had cracks of light at the bottom. He turned a couple of doorknobs.  Both locked. Portraits and paintings of historical scenes hung on the walls. Narrow tables sat underneath them stacked with dusty old books, rustic curios, and letters and papers tied up with old ribbons.

After passing two doors on each side of the hallway, he came to the top of the stairs. He could hear voices coming from somewhere downstairs. Then he noticed they echoed up through a grate in the wall across from the stairway. Sam could hear Mrs. Steers talking to Rose. Kneeling down, he pressed his right ear against the warm metal grate.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Mrs. Steers was talking. "Trenda probably doesn't know anything either, does he?"

"No," said Rose, blowing on her tea before a quick sip. "He had no ideas to offer.  I think he's waiting on you."

Mrs. Steers sighed. "So far, we have so little information about what he is actually thinking. We know he has tried on several occasions to shift time, but the big question is why? There has to be a reason.  First of all, Dr. Herkeimer has control issues.  He doesn't think about the consequences of his actions. He has no idea how this shifting of time will change everything. Why would a person not think about their actions and their consequences?"

For a few moments, Rose and Mrs. Steers contemplated in silence as they finished their apple pie.

"Guilt? Maybe he feels guilty about something in his past?" Rose got up and put her plate in the sink. "We need to investigate that possibility more. Keep researching, Lottie."

Upstairs with his ear still against the grate, Sam thought to himself.  Dr. Herkeimer.  Mrs. Steers told me about him, but she didn't say too much.  I wonder...

Further down the hall, someone or something broke the line of light at the bottom of a door.  He could hear rustling and something that sounded like drawers opening and closing then a closet door inside a room.

Sam's eyes widen. He could get caught. Getting up, he tiptoed as fast as he could back to the laundry room and shut the door. Now, he pressed his ear against the door. All was quiet. He cracked the door just enough to see. 

A door creaked open and someone in a dark cloak stepped out of the room and went downstairs.

Opening the laundry room door all the way, Sam heard their apartment door open. His Mom was home and saw him.

"Well, it looks like you're feeling better. Why is that door open? And where's Mrs. Steers?"

"She went downstairs through here. I just got up and was about to call for her."

Not more than a few seconds later, Mrs. Steers appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, you're up.  And you're home," said Mrs. Steers. "I had to go downstairs to check on something. Don't be upset. I left this door wide open. I think I may leave it unlocked from now on."

Emily put her tote filled with books on the kitchen table, hung up her coat, and gave Sam a big hug.  "You don't have to do that. We don't want to invade your privacy."

Mrs. Steers shook her head.  "It's not a problem. It will be better. That way, if you want Sam, you can call first and then come this way to help yourself to books in my library."

Emily started to argue, but was cut off.

"I'd rather have Sam come through here when you're gone or when he needs books rather than go outside in this cold nasty weather."

Mrs. Steers winked at him.  Emily hesitated, then let it go.  Mrs. Steers had given Sam the opportunity to explore her personal treasure trove.  He was excited.