The Time Travelers' Club -- Chapter 84: A History Lesson

With another school day over, Sam walked to the library.  His report about Cleopatra had impressed Mr. Martin.

Spotting him leave school, Rose tagged along quietly several feet behind Sam.

"Sam," said Rose, walking fast enough to catch up with him.  "What's going on?"

At first, Sam didn't say anything, not even looking at her. Even though she felt unwelcome, she walked with him anyway.

“Just going home.”  Sam liked Rose, in fact he was fascinated by her, but she was still a part of the Club.  Rose was supposed to be his orb teacher, something that he really wanted to learn. Sam’s previous attempts to make orbs had gone well, but it had been weeks since his last lesson.

“I hope you’re doing well.”

"I'm having horrible nightmares," said Sam.  “I can’t get Dr. Herkeimer out of my head.”

Rose nodded without speaking, listening intently.

"I keep being slapped around by him.  He keeps hurting me and screaming about those stupid books."

Rose continued to listen, allowing him to vent.

"I think my time with the Club is over."  Sam glanced at her to see his reaction.

Rose cocked her eyebrow and looked at him. "Do you want it to be over?"

Sam shook his head.   "No.  But I can't handle this.  I’m just an eleven-year-old kid who loved it when we went to London, then Egypt.  At first seeing Edgar Allan Poe was cool, but..."

"Yes," said Rose.  "You’ve had a great, yet rough, introduction to the Club. However, there are still good times to be had.  You have entered the Club at a very bad time.   We are fighting to protect history."  Rose was frank with Sam.  "The Club does have its dark side.  People have control issues. Power hungry people have fought to learn the incantations."

Rose put her hand on his shoulder, not knowing if he would allow her to touch him.  At first, he tensed, but she kept it there until he finally relaxed.

"Listen to me, Sam.  History is full of bad people who never had a copy of the book.  In the history of the Club, there have only been a few who tried to use it and the incantations for evil or selfish purposes.   In the end, they were all killed."   Rose was being as honest as she could.

Sam quizzed her.  "How many?"

"Well, from my limited study of the Club, about eight, but that was over the last two-hundred years.   Before the Club was well organized and its history documented as we do now.  Dr. Herkeimer is the first in a long time.  We've been working on finding the books and keeping them safe.  And more importantly, even though you're upset and want us to leave you alone, we are still watching you twenty-four-hours a day."

"What?" said Sam, somewhat surprised. "Do you mean you are spying on me?"

"No.  We are watching for any signs that they are going to try something.  You know... Like trying to get to you."

Sam started rubbing his stomach.  His fear and anxiety began to stir.  "Are they going to get me again? Is that possible?”

Rose jested.  "Not with me around!  Nor with Ari, Xavier, or..."  Rose demonstrated her judo abilities by making a few moves and stances. "...Mrs. Steers.  She is extremely worried about you.  She's absolutely heartbroken."

"Really?"  Sam cracked a smile, feeling a little better that Mrs. Steers did care, but more importantly, Rose could tell she had gained some trust.

Grabbing his hand, Rose said.  "Come on.  Let's get going."  As they walked a while, Sam squeezed her soft, warm hand.  He had never held hands with anyone beyond his Mom and Dad.

"Let's take a little detour," said Rose.  "I have someone I want you to meet... Well, at least, see."

Within a passing of a second, their next step fell on the hard floor of an enormous auditorium.  Coming to a quick halt, Sam was amazed at how quickly the scene had changed, without any swirling or twisting.

"Whoa!  That was fast.  You're good," said Sam.  "But where are we? I hardly felt us get here."

"Watch and listen," was Rose's only reply.

Young male soldiers in tan colored uniforms packed the auditorium, all facing a huge stage. Behind a prominent podium, a highly emotional and animated speaker with a neatly trimmed mustache was giving a speech. Red flags with white circles and swastikas hung everywhere.  From the ceiling. On the stage.  Along the sides of the auditorium.  Green garlands were draped between posts.   There were lots of flags on poles. On the wall behind the speaker hung a plaque with the swastika and a gold painted eagle with its wings spread out.

"...Ich möchte das nicht auf das persönliche Gebiet schieben. Darüber ist zuviel bereits an Abhandlungen geschrieben worden. Amerikanische Doktoren haben im Auftrag des derzeitigen Präsidenten Roosevelt die Ursache des Weltkrieges untersucht und dabei festgestellt, daß es sich nicht um ein deutsches Verschulden handeln konnte..."

 Sam had no idea what he was saying, but he let go of Rose’s hand and walked towards the speaker. 

"Rose, who is that man? He looks familiar."  Sam asked.

Walking up next to Sam, Rose pointed at the man behind the podium.  "That is Adolph Hitler.  That single man gave orders that would change the world as we know it.  This is Hitler's speech at the Berlin Sports Palace on January 30.  The year is 1941.  World War Two was in full-swing across Europe."

Entranced by him, Sam stared.  "I've read about him.  I didn't recognize him at first."

"Sam, I brought you here to learn something.   One person's decision can affect a million people without their ever knowing it.  The older members of The Time Travelers Club tell stories about hiding the books and attempting to get them out of Europe and as far as away from this man and his followers."

Rose put her hand on Sam’s shoulder again. She shook her head. “Adolph Hitler brought all of Europe to its knees for a brief and devastating period.  Millions of Jewish people would die.  Cities bombed.   Soldiers died to keep the world free from Hitler’s destruction.”

“He had a lot of power, didn’t he,” said Sam. “Enough to start a war.”

“Enough to have millions of Jews killed in gas chambers, in concentration camps, and shot…” added Rose.

All at once, the soldier’s voices flooded the auditorium.  “Heil Hitler!  Heil!” Quickly covering his ears from the deafening echoes, Sam glanced around at them, then back to Hitler who was grinning and nodding.

“It’s time for us to go.   Remember him and what I’ve just told you.   Read more about him.”  In a flash, Sam and Rose appeared on a street.  "Welcome to Berlin.  It’s still 1941.  The German population going about their lives as if there wasn't a war."

Women with packages hurried along.  Gentlemen strolling along talking in German, a couple of times Sam heard something in English.  Window shoppers.  Groceries packed with goods.  Sam played his usual don't-walk-through-anyone game, nearly missing several young girls in uniforms being followed by several young men in similar uniforms of tan with arm bands with swastikas on them.  Rose strolled along with ease, somehow avoiding the ghostly shadows of the past.

"It's too bad we can't use the incantations to go back and change history for the better," said Sam. “We could have saved all those people.”

"According to Agathon, ‘Even God cannot change the past,’" said Rose.

"Who said something about changing the past?"

"Agathon.  He was an Athenian poet.  One of those wise men from ancient history.  Sometimes, we should go back and take a look at him.  I like to quote George Santayana.  He said 'those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.'  Personally, I like to say those who do not study history are doomed to repeat it and those of us who do are doomed by those who do not."

Sam didn’t really understand what she meant or who George Santayana even was, but just nodded and continued to dodge.  Finally, they turned down a less-crowded street. Walking along, he looked up at the old buildings.   Red flags with swastikas, hanging on the side of buildings, flowed in the breeze.  Sam admired the towering narrow buildings, some being six stories high.  The area reminded him of typical German buildings he had seen in old movies.  Elaborately decorated with carvings, brick arches on the first level, half-timbered facades, and medieval looking.

“A copy of the book in Hitler’s hands would have been bad,” said Rose.  “He would have had to get a member of the Club on his side to make the incantations work, but that wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“Really,” said Sam.

“Look at how Dr. Herkeimer got his group together.  He blackmailed them.”

“That’s awful.”  Sam stopped there and turned the conversation a different direction.  “Rose, is Mrs. Steers alright?  I mean with Mr. Steers… well, dead.”

Rose read the sincerity in Sam’s face.  She could tell that it upset him, but she hadn’t been around him enough to really know what he was thinking.

“She’s fine.  A lot of people believe that their loved ones are still around and they are never really gone.”  She had intentionally paused with “around” to study Sam’s reaction.  “I’ve only known you a little while, but I can tell you really hide your feelings well.”

Sam stopped and looked at her.  “My counselor said the same thing the other day.”

"So where is Mr. Steers buried?  I never heard anything about it."  Sam didn't receive an answer.

Just as he started to ask again, a piece of paper fluttered down from nowhere into Sam’s face.

“What’s that?”  At first, he shooed it like a fly, and ended up slapping it in Rose’s direction.

Rose immediately grabbed it.  “It’s a note.  Someone sent us a message.  I suspect Lottie since this is her paper.”

Sam waited while she read it.  “Is it important?”  Down in his gut, he felt a flutter of anxiety.

Rose formed a small orb and touched the paper to it.  It flared into a yellow hue and turned to ash.  “It is for real.   We must get home.”

Before Sam could ask any more questions, they were standing in the Steers’ back parlor. Rose pushed open the partially closed doors to the front parlor.