The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 52 -- Mrs. Steers and Her Research

Emily browsed the reference books, working on a question for a library patron. Bending over, she pulled an oversized book from the bottom shelf. When she stood up, Emily jumped.  Mrs. Steers had appeared next to her.

"Oh, I’m very sorry," said Mrs. Steers. "I should not have snuck up on you."

"That's fine, but you seemed to have appeared out of nowhere."

Mrs. Steers had a couple paperbacks in her hands. "I was just picking up some mysteries for a trip. I will be out of town for the next week. I'm going to do some research for a new book. I just wanted to let you know. Would you please get my mail?"

"Sure" said Emily. "Sam and I'll keep an eye on things."

"Tell Sam I will be back soon, and he shouldn't worry about me."

"It's good to see you two are getting along so well," said Emily. "And thank you for letting him use your library."

"He's such a good boy and well-mannered. See you at the end of the week."

Mrs. Steers checked out her books and Emily returned to her reference question.

Back home, Mrs. Steers finished packing her over-night bag with enough clothes for a week.  Standing in the middle of her bedroom, she said the transition incantation and her destination, and was gone.

Seconds later, she stood in front of a secluded rustic church nestled among some evergreen trees.  She enjoyed the snow-capped mountains surrounding the valley where the church sat.  A few clouds passed through the blue sky.  The only other buildings in sight were a dark-clapboard barn to one side and a stone well with a roof and a crank to lower and raise a pail on a rope.

Mrs. Steers followed a gravel path to the church's side entrance and knocked on the oak door.  She admired the decorative wrought iron hinges and latch. Moments passed before she could hear the turn of locks.  The door opened just enough for Mrs. Steers to see her own reflection on a pair of round spectacles peeking out through the crack of the slightly open door.

"It’s me, Ms. Bookstock," said Mrs. Steers.

"I have to be careful," whispered Ms. Bookstock, not opening the door any further.  "Do you have your papers?"

Mrs. Steers slipped her paperwork through the crack.   She could hear Ms. LBookstock shuffling them.

"Alright, Mrs. Steers.  Please come in."  Ms. Bookstock opened the door enough for Mrs. Steers to squeeze through, then she immediately shut the door behind her.  After the ritual of locking all the locks, she turned to Mrs. Steers.

Ms. Bookstock returned Mrs. Steers’ membership card, a copy of her application, and her approval letters from the Council. Working with Mrs. Steers’ schedule, the Council arranged appointments for her.

"It’s good to see you again. How are you?" asked Mrs. Steers.

"I'm doing very well, thank you."

Ms. Bookstock had her hair in a bun held up with pencils on top of her head, glasses on a chain around her neck, and most of all very prim and proper.  Mrs. Steers had known her for numerous years, and despite her demeanor, she knew that Ms. Bookstock had a past.

They went down a narrow stone stairway along the outer edge of the nave into a crowded basement.  Reminded of Jameson’s bookshop, Mrs. Steers glanced around at the stacks of worn books, old banker boxes, and framed photographs of club members.  Piles of aged papers were neatly stacked on shelves.  Frayed scrolls filled one shelve completely.

Located in the old church’s basement were the Time Travelers' Club archives.  Owned by the International Council, the church was built in the late 15th century, but the archives had been moved into the building about ten years ago.  Its location was a heavily guarded secret, even within the club. The process for entry required an extensive application, presented to the International Council at least six months in advance for approval to even know the location of the church and to use the materials.

Organizing her workspace on one of library's unused tables, Mrs. Steers laid out her pencils, notepads, and huge magnifying glass.  She loved working in the archives. She was alone, except for Ms. Bookstock, and could concentrate.  Mrs. Steers sat down at the only computer, typed in her search terms, and started skimming the results.

"Here you are.  Just like you left them the last time you were here."  Ms. Bookstock rolled over a wooden cart piled high with research materials.

"Oh, thank you," said Mrs. Steers.

Thumbing through a stack of papers, Mrs. Steers began reading the first paper she pulled out.  She had stumbled across a note dated 1612.  It read:

In time, one will be found, the scroll lies in the tomb, secretly they will place it, until the seal breaks for the one to enter.

"That's interesting," uttered Mrs. Steers.  "I wonder if that’s what I’ve been looking for..."

After thinking pensively, she made a note about the note.  She poured over every bit of information that she had about Dr. Herkeimer.

"There must be a clue in all of these notes," said Mrs. Steers out loud.  "Some clues to his madness.  More digging."

An hour later, Mrs. Steers stumbled across a tidbit of information.  "Aha," said Mrs. Steers.  "Bruno.  Hmmm...  Nothing we don't already know, but..."

She scribbled on her note pad.

Bruno was left as a baby at an orphanage in a suburb of Chicago, where he grew up there, never being adopted.   He was educated by the nuns who ran the home.  He was skinny and weak, suffering from scarlet fever as a baby.  He eventually left the orphanage at the age of 18 and joined the Navy.  Later in Asia.

She shrugged her shoulders, annoyed by the lack of new information.  From there, she decided to double-check facts about the Doctor.  Finally, she had stumbled upon a new piece of information.

"Hmmmm... Interesting. I will have to follow up on this." She wrote down "newspaper in Portland, Oregon."  Mrs. Steers sat back in her chair and rested her eyes. "I need a break."

Stacking her papers neatly, she grabbed one of her other notepads and perused her notes.  This time tracking down what she could about the lost archives.

The lost archives. Pieces missing from the current archives. Strange and cryptic notes. The scroll and books.

"Philip De Thame... You are one tough fellow to find anything on. I guess it's back to the books."   Mrs. Steers rubbed her chin first, then her forehead, and mumbled to herself.

"Lottie, put this away," Mrs. Steers mumbled to herself.  "Get back to the important research.  Focus."

Mrs. Steers pulled out yet another note pad from under her stack of materials and research notepads.

"Oh my, I hope this is right. I've been over all of this four times. It has to be right."

By now, her cluttered, yet organized, research included stacks of crumpled paper, sticky notes, opened books, and closed books with notes sticking out at the top. Mrs. Steers had a genealogy chart in front of her. Using her pencil like a pointer, she checked and double-checked names, places, dates, and extraneous notes.

"Katherine married Thomas. They had Joseph, Christine, and James." She rummaged through one stack, pulling out another yellow pad and pursued those notes.

"Check. Ok, Christine married Matthew and they had Matthew Jr. and George." With that, she pursued the yellow pad again, smiled, and sat back in her chair.

She reassured herself not once, but three times. "It has to be. He just has to be. Lottie, you've got the right person. You've got a descendent."

Mrs. Steers turned to a clean yellow sheet on her pad and wrote a few notes.  She then sat back in her chair.

"Ms. Bookstock?  Are you there?"

From somewhere, she heard a reply.

"I'm here."

"Wonderful. I need to get a message to the Council."  Mrs. Steers straightened her notes.  "I also need your computer to write a report."

"Help yourself.  I will send a message.  What should I say?"

"Urgent.  Ready to report.  Must meet immediately."

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 51 -- Uncle Griff

Griffin Graff, Griff to his nephew and closest friends, had returned home after his escape from the clutches of  Dr. Herkeimer and Bruno. He was bruised and beaten but was recovering quickly.  He had escaped thanks to the help of one that the Club calls The Rescuer.  Only a few people knew who it was and it was intended to stay that way.

Griff lived in a remote modern log house he had designed himself outside of Oslo in Norway. His love of winter, as well as ice fishing, had brought him to the Scandinavian Peninsula.  The house had only three rooms which were simply furnished -- the bathroom, a large storage closet, and a multi-purpose room with the fire pit, which had a metal brass flue that went up through center of the low-pitched roof.   One wall was all glass which provided a panoramic view of a lake with low mountains as a backdrop.

Although word had reached Xavier that his Uncle was safe, he went to see for himself.

"Good to see you." Griff gave his nephew a hug.  He stood about foot taller than Xavier.  

Xavier looked him over.  "Trimmed beard, a few bandages, and lots of rest have restored your health after being batted around."

Griff smiled."Were you worried about me, Vigsters?"  He had given Xavier that nickname when he was ten.  Xavier was visiting one summer and mocked the accent of the local Norwegians. He told him not to or else he would make fun of him.  Xavier didn't stop, until one day when Griff called him "Vigsters" for no reason.  At first, Xavier hated it.  Now, he expected it.

"Ha, not really. You've been in far worse jams that you survived. I think it was nice of The Rescuer to come get you."  Xavier stood by the fire pit to get warm.

"Winter in Norway can be harsh. Will you be able to handle the cold and snow?"  Griff fixed ginger beers for them.

"I will survive. It's only a few words back home to sunny Florida."

Griff settled down into his ratty rust-colored overstuffed armchair that puffed up dust when he sat down.  "So, how's life treating you? I hear you've met the young boy. What's his name again? Sean?"

"Sam.  His name is Sam Henry. He and his Mother live in Lottie's apartment."  Xavier stretched out on a modern spindly-legged sofa facing the windows and sipped his ginger beer.

"What a coincidence.  And how convenient." Griff smirked. "Old lady Steers is good at her work. I wonder how she got him there."

Xavier snickered. "She's got her ways. She tracked him down without even being sure that he was the one."

They sat silent, watching the snow fall.  The fire crackled.  Night had arrived.  Flurries turned into a heavy snow.  The wind howled.

Griff finally broke the silence. "Has his training begun? How good he is? Can he do any of the incantations?"

"Rose taught him how to create an orb. You should have seen his. I think he's going to grow up and be able to make orbs better than she can. Lottie has taught him the time-traveling incantations.  Apparently, he used them better than anyone she's ever trained."

"Interesting. Sounds like we've got a promising one."

Xavier grinned, staring at the fire. "We will have to wait and see. Our job right now is to keep the Doc from getting him."

Griff agreed. "Don't worry. I got plenty on him and his theatrical troupe of bumblers. Got plenty of useful information.  And one hell of a story for you."

Xavier snuggled into the corner of the sofa.

Griff poured more ginger beer, taking a gulp before starting.  "I know he had company while I was there.  The Doc didn't know that I could get in and out of the room they had locked me in.  When they found out, I was tied to the damn chair."

After rubbing his wrists, Griff got up and added a log to the fire, then poked the embers.  The fire flared up.   Xavier could feel the heat.

Griff sat back down. "Apparently, he had captured some poor stooge and tortured him.  Only to find out later he had gotten the wrong guy.  Tinean also got his share of the blame for that mix-up."

"And?" said Xavier.  "Was he your twin?  Or just looked like you?"

"Naw. Barely looked like me. He had been traipsing around South America doing some kind of research on bugs or something such thing."  Griff scratched under his beard, then pulled on the center hairs.  "You'll never guess who it was.  Rose's Dad, Andreas."

"What? You're kidding."

"Nope.  It was him.  They let him go.  I think once they realized they had the wrong fellow, they threatened him.  Told him they'd take care of Rose if he blabbered, if you know what I mean."

"Hmmm...  I find that strange.  Why would they kidnap him?"

"Don't be dumb.  You know why."  Griff nodded.

Xavier agreed, knowing exactly why they had kidnapped him. "Well, hopefully, he didn't spill. Especially if he thinks he's found one of the books."

Griff stretched out in his chair.  "He doesn't know the exact location yet. He's only trying to track it down. Smuggled out of Germany in 1945 by the top man himself.  Great thanks to Frigg, that Nordic beauty, he didn't know what he had when he was still in power.  Life might have been different."

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 50 -- Friend or Foe

On an old side street of Beijing, Fan Kong Tu dodged young men on bicycles with passenger carriages behind them, offering people rides to their destinations. Women on bicycles zipped by him. People were coming and going to and from work.

Squat buildings in old-style Chinese architecture of bowed beams painted red and curved ends lined both sides of the street. Half-round tiles covered the roofs. Swaying in the breeze, long narrow banners with Chinese characters hung in front of shops -- clothing, groceries, and eateries.

Hurrying without noticing the activity around him, Fan had an appointment to keep.  He was on time.

Stopping in front of a grey stone two-story building, he read the Chinese letters on a painted sign above the door. In English, it read "China Doll, Imports and Exports."

This was the place. Stepping up to the entrance, he read a posted sign in Chinese. Translated, it read "Please push buzzer for entrance, then stop at the main desk."

After pushing the buzzer, the door popped open. Entering, he saw a young woman sitting behind an office desk.  He noted that the desk was very organized.

"I am Fan Kong Tu. I have an appointment." 

The young woman glanced at the clock on the wall. It read precisely 2 o'clock.  She had been writing on a piece of paper.  With exact precision, she placed the paper in a manila folder, placed it square on the desk and laid the pencil perpendicularly next to it.

"Please wait here." Daintily getting up from her office chair, the young lady disappeared down a long hallway to a door.  She knocked, before opening it.

Fan looked around the crowded office. Paintings and portraits lined the walls. Marble busts and statues huddled together on tables. On the floor were stacks of rugs, blankets, and other textiles. Despite that fact the he had worked for her on several occasions, Fan knew only a few details about China Doll like she dealt in Western Art, trading and selling to powerful businessmen. This time, he still wasn’t sure of the nature of his latest mission. Fan knew it involved Dr. Herkeimer.

The young woman reappeared. "She will see you now."

Fan walked past her and went through the door at the end of the hallway. 

Behind a large desk sat China Doll. Her pale face made her red ruby lips pronounced. Her pitch-black hair was tightly wrapped up into two short smokestacks shapes on her head. Two ivory-colored sticks protruded out of them.  Her black dress was accented by a bright orange carved, beaded necklace.

"You are looking very smart today," said Fan.

"Thank you," said China Doll. Her words were drawn out and in perfect English.

"Was your trip to Seattle successful?"

"You are educated on my whereabouts."

Fan bowed. "I like to know something about my employers, especially those who have made Beijing their home."

She grinned. "Good for you. But enough idle chit-chat. We have business to discuss. First, have you any information about the books?  I am anxious to hear."

"I discovered that an elderly woman named Charlotte Steers has the only access to them. I learned there is a boy. The Doctor wants one of the books and the boy for whatever reason."

China Doll's right eyebrow arched. "A elderly woman? A boy? What is this? A children’s tale? Hmmm... Very well. Dr. Herkeimer is no longer a concern to me. I want to focus on her and the boy. I desire weekly reports of their lives."

She pulled a plain letter-sized envelope out from under a high pile of papers on her desk and held it out to him. "Here are your new instructions. Please keep in contact. I will be back in Seattle next month if you need to reach me."

Fan took the envelope.  "When may I expect payment for this last assignment?"

China Doll turned her swivel black leather chair.  He couldn’t see her. "My secretary has it for you."

Fan walked to the door, stopped, and turned to ask her why she wanted this information, but China Doll had vanished.

Outside on the street, he opened the envelope.  The paper inside had one sentence written on it. 

He read it out loud and looked puzzled.  "Follow the woman and boy. How did she already know?"  He mumbled "What a waste of time this meeting was. Now I want to know even more why she wants the book?"

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 49 -- Learning to Make Orbs

Sam woke up refreshed from his nap and ready to go someplace else. Back through the laundry room and down the stairs, Sam saw the parlor doors were shut.

"Sam, back here."  Mrs. Steers was in the kitchen.  "Feeling ok?"

"Sure am and I'm ready to go. How about Mexico to see the Aztecs?"

"Sorry, we have other plans for you," said Mrs. Steers.

Rose came into the kitchen. "I am here to teach you the art of creating and using orbs."

Sam 's eyes widened with excitement. "Really!"

Rose led him into the front parlor. "Yes. It is time for me to see what kind of abilities you have."

Sam noticed that the front parlor furniture was pushed out of the center of the room. Rose sat down on the tuffet in the center of the room where the coffee table had been. Sam stood in front of her.

Rose looked him straight in the eye. "Obs are not toys.  They are very dangerous balls of light and energy.  Electricity that can shock a person to death if the orb is powerful enough.   You must be very careful when you make or use one. I am extremely serious."

"I understand," said Sam with trepidation.

"Sam, I want you to repeat the following words after me. The incantation is rather tricky. You must not make a hand motion while you say them?"

Sam shook his head.

"The words of the incantation are 'lucem vis venire ad me.' Now repeat after me."

"Lucem vis..."

Sam repeated it perfectly.

"Venire ad me."

"Very good," said Rose. "You picked up the words quickly and perfectly."

"Thanks," said Sam. His comfort level around her grew. She treated him like an adult, unlike Mrs. Steers who took the grandmotherly-approach by worrying about him.

Rose continued his lesson. "The next part.  While saying the words, rotate your palms either direction until two strands of light appear then work them into a ball."   Rose stopped to demonstrate by making a miniature orb.  "It's like rolling modeling clay in your hands. Sometimes, with enough practice, you can make them with your index fingers."  She pulled her hands apart and the orb popped and disappeared.

Rose continued. "The denser the orb, the stronger they are.  Very few have ever made very dense orbs.  Size also matters.  Some can only make orbs about the size of oranges.  Mine are very dense. I take pride in that. I can also make them various sizes.  Not many can do that either."

Sam studied Rose's demonstration.  "How big can they get?"

"A few can makes ones the size of basketball, but they take care not to make them that big.   That size can bust a hole in a wall. And that's all they can do."

Sam was mesmerized.

"Think of modeling clay," she reminded him. "You'll find it's very elastic and will mold into a ball."

Rose made an orb the size of a tangerine, rolling it in and out between her fingers, then over her palm and finally the back of her hand. She was the master.  "You can make them as big as your ability will allow you.

"You're very good at those," said Sam. "When did you first learn to make them?"

Rose smiled and kept her orb going.  "I was about your age. I had a wonderful teacher who encouraged me and discovered that my abilities exceeded any others at the time."

Unnoticed, Xavier appeared, perched on an empty spot on the fireplace mantle. "Orb making 101?"

Rose and Sam jumped. Rose's orb flew straight up to the ceiling and crashed sending sparks and flares all over.  Sam covered his head as Rose grabbed a magazine from the end table and fanned them as they fell.  After all the sparks were out, Rose gave Xavier a death-stare.

"Do not sneak up on people?"

Xavier smirked. "I do it just for my own amusement."

"Really, stuffed shirt," said Rose. "Why don’t you come down here and I’ll give you something for your amusement."

Majestically, Xavier waved his hand. "Carry on."

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Rose turned back to Sam. "As I was saying, the feeling of an orb is like static electricity that isn’t a simple zap at first, but then it gets warm..."

"Aha." Ari arrived, appearing from behind the curtains in the front room windows.  Xavier and Sam giggled. Rose stood up, turned, and stared fiercely at Ari.  He knew he had interrupted something.

"Is everyone here now!?" Rose had a slight temper that came out every once in awhile. Her face got bright red.

Mrs. Steers strolled in. "What’s going on?"

Rose spun around and glared at her.

"Um... I see," said Mrs. Steers cautiously.  She recognized the angry look on Rose’s face.  Glancing at Ari and Xavier, she knew Sam's education had been interrupted.

Trying to lighten the mood, she immediately sat down on a side chair right inside the archway. "Sooo... How’s the lesson going?"

Composing herself, Rose returned her attention to Sam.

"I want you to try making an orb. Say the words with me."

In unison, they repeated the incantation several times, before Rose took his hands and starting moving his palms in a circular motion over each other in opposite directions as if rolling an invisible ball between them.

At first, nothing happened.  Rose took her hands away, while Sam continued swirling his palms. He chanted the incantation alone.  Standing behind them, Ari leaned forward to see past Rose. Xavier sat perfectly still up on the mantel. And Mrs. Steers watched eagerly. All focused on the space between Sam’s palms.

"Lucem vis venire ad me... lucem vis venire ad me... lucem vis venire ad me..."

Snap! Snap! Two sparks snapped between Sam’s palms. Sam’s eyes widened. The sparks swirled as Sam continued to recite and roll his palms.

A pure white glowing orb about the size of a golf ball quickly formed. Rose slowly sat back as she watched the orb grow larger and larger to about the size of a softball. Studying it, she tried to look through it, but it was too dense.

Xavier’s eyes widened. Ari took a few steps back. And Mrs. Steers ran out of the room. Sam glanced at each of them, judging that they were impressed by his orb. He worked harder and formed an orb twice as big.

Putting her palms about a foot from Sam’s, Rose could feel energy being sucked into the orb. Sam’s hands got warmer to a point he could see his palms getting redder. Panicking, Rose reached out, grabbed Sam’s hands, and pushed them together. The orb burst like a balloon, sending sparks out from between his hands.

Mrs. Steers came back into the room with a bowl. "Quick, Sam, put your hands in this bowl of ice water."

Sam looked at the welts on his palms and submerged them into the ice water. Wincing, his palms began to tingle and burn.

"That was interesting," said Xavier. "Looks like you might have some major competition coming your way, Rose."

"Come along Sam," said Mrs. Steers. "Let’s go out into the kitchen and get some more ice on them. Don’t worry. Your hands will be fine. I have salve that soothe the welts and the stinging will soon go away."

After they left the room, Ari sat down next to Rose.

"Wow, that orb?" Ari shook his head.

Xavier leaned back against the fireplace wall. "I can’t believe that orb.  Very dense and pure white. Rose, what’s your thoughts?"

Rose stared down at the floor.

"Rose?" whispered Ari.

"Uh," uttered Rose. "I... I don’t know what to think. It was the whitest. The thickest orb I have ever seen."

"What about your teacher’s orbs?" Ari peered out into the hallway to make sure Mrs. Steers or Sam weren’t on their way back to the parlor. "Do you think he can make them the same size as your teacher?"

"The orb was the densest I have ever seen. Pure white." Rose walked around the front parlor, stopping in the archway to make sure they were alone. "He’s got a gift. He will be a champion orb master. From all we know about orbs, those that are pure white and that dense are unbelievably rare. Only a few throughout the documented history of the club have been able to make them."

"We need to talk to Lottie," said Xavier. "We all need to know. Sam will need better protection if it appears he is truly the one. The true descendent."

"I’ll find out," said Rose. "I will be able to convince her to call a meeting."

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 48 -- In Deep Thought

Sam reappeared in his chair in the back parlor. Mrs. Steers arrived a few moments later with a puzzled look on her face.

Xavier peeked up over the back edge of the sofa in the front parlor and watched Mrs. Steers get up from her chair and go into the kitchen.  Sam slumped back in his chair, fanning himself with his notebook trying to cool off from the heat of the desert.

"Sam, my dear boy. Where have you been?  Seeing something interesting?"

Sam jumped, looking around to see where the voice came from.  He spied Xavier peering over the back of the sofa.  He went into the front parlor.

"Hanging out in Ancient Egypt. We saw the Pyramid of Khufu being built."  He said it like it was just an ordinary day.

Xavier glanced towards the kitchen. "What’s up with Lottie?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder. Sam shrugged his shoulders.  "I don’t know. She wasn’t upset when I left her.  Something must've happened."  Sam glanced towards the kitchen again, before sitting down in the overstuffed.

"How long have you been in the club?" said Sam.

Xavier sat up, adjusted his red velvet vest. "Since I was about your age.   I was twelve when I first learned about the Club.  My Uncle was a member, but he’s been retired from it for several years.  I fondly remember our first trip.  He took me to see the San Francisco earthquake."

Shaking his head, Xavier stood up and slipped on his purple velvet jacket. "I had never seen anything like it. Buildings crumbling. Everything was shaking.  Fires breaking out.  Not that I was fond of the scene, mind you.   I was fond of my first trip, but not the scene."

Xavier shook his head as if reliving the horrific scene right then and there.  "I felt so bad for them.  It was awful.  Everyone was just running in different directions.   Screaming.  Praying.  Crying.  I went back several times after that and watched them rebuild their city.   I loved that part.  San Francisco became my favorite city in the world."

Sam listened attentively.  "Could we go sometime?"

Xavier shrugged.  "I don’t know.  You should stick with Lottie for your basic training."

Not wanting to make Sam uncomfortable, Xavier thought to himself.  Sorry Sam, I don’t like kids.

Xavier had never fit in at the boys’ school.  Uninterested in sports, he preferred to write and direct school plays, make the costumes, and dress like characters from Dickens' novels.  The other boys teased him about being different.

"Xavy baby" sometimes rang out in his head whenever he adjusted his tie or shirt collar in the mirror.  He could still hear the other boys in the hallways. "Whadda ya doin’ today?  Writin’ a play where you’ll be playin’ all the girls?"  Boys can be harsh.  Xavier got his revenge later when he "accidently" put a strong powdered concoction in the mashed potatoes at lunch.  The bullies spent much of the afternoon in the bathroom.

Mrs. Steers came into the parlor.  Her mind obviously elsewhere.  She paid no attention to Sam or Xavier.

"Lottie.  What’s the matter?" 

"Sam, why don’t you go home and work on your next report," said Mrs. Steers.

"But I haven’t got my next..."

"Um, Sam," said Xavier. "I think you better be on your way."

Smiling at Sam, Xavier walked him into the hallway. Xavier whispered. "Don’t worry, Sam. I don’t think it’s you. Lottie’s got something on her mind. I’ve seen that look before. Something’s happened and I need to find out what."

Sam could see Mrs. Steers sit down in one of the chairs and stare at the blazing fire in the fireplace.

"Why don’t you come back later?  Take a nap.  You'll be less likely to get sick this time if you get some rest."

"I’ll come back later." Sam went up the stairs. 

Xavier walked into the parlor. "Lottie?  What is it?"

She didn’t answer.

Xavier leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Lottie?  Where are you?"

She gave no response.  Finally, Xavier sat down in the other wing-backed chair to wait.  He knew her.  She would start talking soon.

"Xavier."  Her voice was soft and quite.  "I just got some interesting news from the West Coast chapter.  I can’t believe it.  After all these years.  After all these years."

Xavier leaned forward.  "Is it about the Doctor?"

"No," she replied softly. "But it's something you'll like."

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 47 – Quite a Shock

Sam opened his eyes.  He and Mrs. Steers stood high on a plateau overlooking the construction site of the oldest of the pyramids.  Beyond the construction site, the gold sands of the Egyptian desert stretched like a massive sea.  The sand blew across the barren land.

To their left was a great white wall that had been carved in the side of a plateau.  It was the quarry where lime stones were being cut.  To the right, a massive ramp went up to the pyramid.  It worked around the sides of the structure.  The pictures Sam had seen showed them worn down and weathered from time.  Here they were being built and the whole area was alive with activity.

Thousands of workers moved stone blocks up the well-designed ramp system until they reached the upper level.   The pyramid was just above the half-way point.  They could see more workers there, moving stones to the edge and placing them.

"Whoa!  Look at that.  I didn't imagine this."  Sam was awed. 

Mrs. Steers was quiet.  She wasn't looking at the pyramids.  She was staring at him  Her mouth hung open.  Her eyes fixed on him in disbelief.

"Sam, you must tell me honestly.  Have you been to other places without me?"  She tightened her grip on his arm and looked mad.

"No, Mrs. Steers.  I promised and I didn't go anywhere."  Sam expressed a high level of sincerity.  Mrs. Steers studied his face.

"Sam, that's remarkable.  I believe you, but...  How?"  Mrs. Steers released his arm and took a few steps in the sand.  Sam watched the ground below her feet, noting that she didn't leave any footprints.  Once again, he marveled at the strangeness of time-travel.

Mrs. Steers took about ten steps in front of him, then turned.  "You...  Sam... You are..."  She blinked a few times and shook her head.

"Mrs. Steers, you're kinda freaking me out.  What's wrong?"

Mrs. Steers rubbed her temples.  "It's nothing, Sam.  You just got us here quicker than anyone else I know or have ever known. You spoke the incantation perfectly and on the third round, we are here.  That's extraordinary, Sam. Extraordinary."

Mrs. Steers stared at him a moment longer, before shaking her head again as if to shoo away her thoughts.

"Well, anyway, here we are."  She turned to enjoy the vista of the pyramid but remained astonished by his first attempt.  "Look at that, Sam. Isn't that sight spectacular?  Just think about where you are and how many other people don't get to see this. As you can see, they are quite high. Almost finished.  The pyramid's sides look flat and shiny."

"They don't look like that today...  I mean in our time."  Sam pulled out his notebook from his travel bag and began his note taking.

"You see the stones on the side.  They are called casting stones.  Highly polished lime stones.  They make it look smooth.  Eventually they will wear down and erode, leaving the under-structure exposed."

 "It's amazing," agreed Sam, walking to her side.  He was torn between the sight and wanting to question her more about his ability to make the incantation work quickly.   Finally, he decided he would ask her later.

"How many people are over there?  There must be thousands."  Sam attempted to count but gave up on the idea.

Pulling out her guidebook, Mrs. Steers began to read. "According to my guidebook, it took several years and thousands of workers to build all the Pyramids of the Giza Necropolis.  Each side of the pyramid is about 755 feet long, 450 feet high and has. or will have over 2,300,000 blocks of stone.  Each weigh about 2 1/2 tons.  Of course, this is an older guidebook and more research has been done since, so the numbers might have changed."

"What's a necropolis?"

"Well, pyramids were tombs.   Necropolis means something like the city of the dead.  Or a cemetery where the kings and queens could be buried."

They stood on a hillside looking at the construction site of the Pyramid of Khufu. The sun blazed high above.  Sweat began trickling down Sam's forehead.

"Now, Sam, let's move closer to the work area.  Why don't you use the incantation I taught you to move to other places during time travel?  Remember it?"

"Yes.  It's 'Tolle mihi videre' and 'I want to see the builders of the Khufu Pyramid'."  Sam put the two phrases together and disappeared.

"Oh dear!" Mrs. Steers was shocked that he left her behind.  "Ummm... 'Tolle mihi videre the builders of the Khufu Pyramid'."

In a flash, Mrs. Steers stood lost in a maze of large tan stones, wooden pulleys, equipment, and a mass of barefooted Egyptian workers wearing white wraps around their middles. Nearby a stone ramp went up the side of the pyramid. Weaving in and out of the lime stones and sweaty workers, Mrs. Steers went looking for Sam, but didn't see him.

"Sam? Where are you?" Mrs. Steers shouted, trying to be heard above the orders of someone she assumed was the head man. A bald man, wielding a leather flail and wearing a red wrap, shouted in ancient Egyptian.

"Sam? Where are you?"  Finally, she heard Sam yelling.

"Mrs. Steers... Mrs. Steers... Up here."

Shading her eyes from the glaring sun, Mrs. Steers looked up at the top of the ramp where several workers were moving a limestone block. On top of the block sat Sam, waving down at her.

Mrs. Steers gasped. "Sam! Be careful not to fall off. You could hurt yourself."

Sam was puzzled. "Mrs. Steers, you can't get hurt while time-traveling."

"Oh yes you can! Albert fell one time and cracked a rib. He fell off a rock while we were watching the digging of the Panama Canal. Luckily, we were able to make up a good story when we took him to the hospital."

"So, how do I get down?"

"Use the incantation again and say you want to be beside the workers. Like you did the first time..." Mrs. Steers pointed to the workers near her. Sam uttered the incantation, vanished, and then reappeared nearby. All in a blink of an eye.

"Mrs. Steers, that was amazing. I got the best view of the whole area from up there. I wish I had my camera." Sam pulled out his notebook and jotted down some notes.

"Now there’s something you should try sometime. Bring a camera, take a few pictures, and see what you get."

Sam was intrigued. "What do you get?"

"We’ll try it sometime." Mrs. Steers left it at that. Despite his raised interest, Sam went back to jotting notes about the pyramids, the workers, and the construction site.

"As you can see, the workers had to be highly skilled," said Mrs. Steers, then pointed at a mass of white tents and tan-colored buildings. "Over there is their camp.  It’s more like a city. That’s where the workers and their families lived during the construction. They have everything they need.  If we go over there, we can see their families."

"Really. I read they were slaves," said Sam.

"Well, they got paid for their work. They were highly skilled workers brought in from all over Egypt."

Sam and Mrs. Steers began to tour the work site. Sam made notes as they went. One worker had a metal chisel and was smoothing a side of a large stone, while another used what looked like drill powered by a wooden hammer and a bow made of a string and stick.

"Just think, Sam, you’re getting to see what hundreds of researchers and scholars have debated for years. The construction methods used by the Egyptians for building their pyramids.  They are the only ones left of the seven wonders of the ancient world.  Hmmm… That sounds like a great weekend trip. We could go and visit all of them."

Mrs. Steers scanned the sea of workers when she saw someone that quite didn’t fit in. His pale arms and legs stood out among the others and the material he used for wrapping didn’t look like the others. Her real clue, however, were the pink plastic sunglasses that he was wearing.  She thought. How could someone be so dumb as to wear those sunglasses?

Sam hadn’t noticed the oddly dressed man. With raised suspicion, Mrs. Steers quickly walked over to Sam.

"I think it’s time to go home."

"Already? I have a lot more notes to take." Sam tried to ignore her, but she was firm.

"Now, Sam. We can always come back.  And I don't want you to risk being sick again."

Sam started to argue but decided not to talk back.

"Remember, this is your time to practice. It won’t be long until you can come and go on your own."

Sam brightened at that marvelous thought. His time-travel wish list was long and he was ready to explore history.

"Do you remember the words to take you home?"

"Yes, I do." Sam spoke the simple incantation and disappeared.

Mrs. Steers turned, looking for the stranger. At first, she didn’t see him, but then he appeared among the crowd. Finding a stone to hide behind, she peeked around to spy on him.

At first, the stranger seemed to follow the crowd, then glanced in her direction. Surveying the crowd, he trudged in her direction. Mrs. Steers had to know who he was. He wasn’t from this time. She did not recognize him as a member of the Time Travelers.

The stranger came closer. Mrs. Steers had to decide. Stay and confront him? Or go home?

She lost her opportunity. The stranger spotted her peeking from behind the stones. They stared at each, before he rushed over. Mrs. Steers prepared herself for a fight.

The stranger approached her and spoke in perfect English.

"Excuse me, but are you Mrs. Charlotte Steers?"

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 46 -- Practice Time

Sam looked outside at the dusting of snow.  This Saturday was going to be another indoor day.   With his Mom being gone for the biggest part of the day, Sam knew that Mrs. Steers was in charge.

"I'm going to be at the library all day,” said Emily.  “It's our biggest fundraiser of the year.  Well... I shouldn't call it that.  We are wooing the city council and many patrons with the big bucks."

"You'll be glad to know I already gave my donation,” said Mrs. Steers.  "You go have fun.  Sam and I have big plans.  Don't we, Sam?"

The cuckoo sang out nine times.

"Thanks for watching Sam.  I hope he's not a bother."

Mrs. Steers hurried Emily to the door.  "Don't worry.  Sam and I are going to have some great fun."

"I'll be home about 4ish.  Bye."  Out the door she went.

Mrs. Steers turned to Sam.  "Whew.  Well, she's off. Where to?" asked Mrs. Steers.

"I've been reading about the Pyramids of Giza in Ancient Egypt.  That's what we're studying in class now.  I'm sure we'll have another report to do, so I might as well get working on it."

"Ah, the Pyramids.  I do love them.  I've already seen them being built, but you haven’t, and I never turn down the opportunity to see some great history again."

Sam ran to his room and got his travel bag from the back of the door.  Mrs. Steers went through the laundry room into her part of the house with Sam right on her heels.

"Albert and I used to travel to our favorite places over and over."  Mrs. Steers reminisced as they walked down the stairs.  "We must have visited the building of the Eiffel Tower at least four times.   Albert and I got to know so many secrets.   Ever heard of John Dillinger?"

"Yes." Sam nodded.

"He buried a million dollars of gold bars in some woods along the Michigan and Wisconsin state borders.  Treasures hunters have tried to find it for years.  Guess who knows where it's really buried?" Mrs. Steers winked and pointed at herself.

"Really? You know where it's buried?"

"Sure do." She teased him. "And don't ask.  I won't tell. Don't worry, Sam.  You'll be so full of secrets you might burst at the seams."

They entered the back parlor and took their seats.  Mrs. Steers glanced over at Sam's clothes.

"I think we are suitably dressed for the desert. Oh wait, my travel bag."   She got up and grabbed it from a side chair.

"Oh, and a travel guide." Scanning her shelves, she pulled off a small book.  "Looks like the best one I've got is one from 1969.  It will serve our purpose."

Sitting back down, Mrs. Steers snuggled into her chair.  "And we're off.  Let's hear those words, Sam.  You've been practicing, I hope.  Remember to think of the exact time and place."

"Ok.  The Pyramids of Giza.  And let's say... let's say..."  Sam tried to remember when they were built.  "Let me check my notebook."

Sam pulled his red journal out of his bag.  It contained the notes about Jack the Ripper and London, but he also written a list of places, events, and people he wanted to see, making sure to make a note of years as well.

Mrs. Steers peered over at the list.  "Hmmm...  I see you've been thinking about your time-travel schedule. Remind me to show you my list sometime."

Sam was embarrassed but didn't care.  While at school, he had thought of all the places he wanted to go and started jotting them down.

"We're going to 2562 B.C.  How about February 10?  They should be building the Pyramid of Khufu.  I read about him the other day.  That ones the oldest and the largest of them.  That day might put us right in the middle of the time they were being built."

Mrs. Steers put her hand on Sam's arm and gave a little squeeze.  "Very good.  And now we're off."

At night when Sam couldn't sleep, he had memorized the time traveling incantation.  Eyes closed, preparing for the whirling and twirling feeling, he spoke the incantation twice while trying to concentrate on the Pyramids and the date.  

By the time he started the third round, he felt a hot dry wind hit his face and it got very bright. He squinted his eyes tighter to avoid the blinding light.   Finally, he put his hand over them.  He felt like he was standing upright.  Mrs. Steers squeezed his arm harder, almost hurting.

Mrs. Steers spoke with a stunned tone.  "My word...  I can't believe it...  It's not possible...”