Quantum Touch Collection

Chapter 22

LAST PERIOD. Finally. I thought about the teachers" meeting. They may be easier to convince than the kids, and they"ll want to get out as fast as possible. The bell rang. As they had been all day, this group, too, was uncommonly quiet, anticipating a discussion of Friday.

LAST PERIOD. Finally.They may be easier to convince than the kids, and they"ll want to get out as fast as possible.“You"ve all had a full day to hear tales of mystery and wonder. Anyone want to tell us the best version you"ve heard?” No hands went up. “Well, that"s a first. As noisy as you usually are, no one has anything to say?” Mary Anne, whose sister was in the third-period class, raised her hand. “That"s more like it. Yes, Mary Anne?”

“Mr. Russell, on Friday you said my sister was messing with me. But when we talked at lunch, she said your friend has a new invention that can make people see things that aren"t really there. How will we ever know if what we see is real or not? We might not even be here now.”

“Wow, Mary Anne, I hadn"t thought of that,” I said in earnest. “That"s a completely new perspective.” The class was still quiet. I surveyed all the young faces, which normally included mouths moving at full speed, now watching me with unusual focus. Once more, I told the story.

When I finished, Dennis Rogers" hand went up. “Mr. R, does that all mean that, well, that you didn"t time travel? That all the stories aren"t real?”

I knew that the tale had been defused. “Dennis, time travel might be a great fictional topic. But, so far at least, it hasn"t happened.” Then for the first time that day, I got blindsided.

Alan asked, “Was the president really here, Mr. R? I heard that he went in the gym and played basketball for a while. Then he signed autographs. Was he really here?” They all seemed to be holding their breath.

“He came just after school ended. He said he was driving by, saw a school, and wanted to stop and say hi. But the first thing he asked was to use the bathroom.” The class laughed. “What"s so funny? Don"t you think the president goes to the bathroom?” This time the class wasn"t sure whether to laugh or not. “But he really was here. Now for homework, I want an essay on what you would do if you could time travel, two-page minimum, for tomorrow.”

Jacob asked, “If we could time travel, Mr. R, could we change history?”

“Jacob, you might want to include that as part of your discussion.” The bell rang. “Class dismissed.” I thought that was a good question, maybe the best one of the day. I thought again of the River Rouge photo. I"d gone back in time only this past Friday. The picture had remained a mystery for seventy-eight years. But my face hurt in the present. I knew then that I needed some lessons in the theories of time travel.

Before the class had emptied, book bags and knapsacks bumping from their shoulders, Ashley was there. “So. Now the teachers. Are you ready?” His sleeves were now inside the camel blazer that he"s worn for as long as I"ve known him.

“Yup,” I said.

“Yup? That"s all?”

“Yup. Let"s go.”

We turned for the auditorium. Tom Jaffrey caught up at the cafeteria. “Fritz, this better be good. It"s been a buzz all day. You"re the teacher of the year to the kids.”

“Should I say thanks, Tom? Or I"m sorry? I know you had your heart set on being teacher of the year. It"s got to be rough losing out to a fictional character.”

In spite of his exuberance, Tom stopped walking and looked at me squarely. “Fritz, if I could get one quarter of the excitement and energy I"ve seen the past two days, I"d be a great teacher.”

“Thanks, Tom,” said Ashley. “Give him a bigger head than he already has. He"ll start thinking he"s Harry Potter, and we"ll all be taking magic lessons from him.”

“Shut up!” I said. The three of us laughed. “But speaking of lessons, Tom, can you suggest any books about the physics of time travel?” He said he had a couple in mind and would check for others. When we reached the auditorium, George was waiting for me, tapping a rolled newspaper in his hand. Ashley and Tom Jaffrey went in, but I stopped, as other teachers, ending conversations as they reached us, converged on the doorways.

“You sure cooked my goose this morning, George. And from what I can tell, you got all the other teachers stuck in this all day, too.”

“Well, I wanted everyone to show up. I just hadn"t counted on the kids jumping on. Do you think we"ll be okay?”

“Of course. Remember you"re in school, George. That"s when they are thinking. You should get back in a classroom. You"d be surprised.” George grimaced. “Let"s go.”

are“Before we go in, have you seen this?” George handed me the afternoon newspaper and showed me an article. It said the president had visited Riverboro High School.

My fists formed, and my shoulders felt book bag taut. “Let"s get this over with.”

As the last of the faculty took seats, George walked briskly to the lectern, which was up on the stage. The microphone squealed, but George had everyone"s attention. “For the past couple of days, there have been some unusual activities in our school. Mr. Russell will explain everything.” He turned, motioning me to the microphone.

Surprised at the introduction, which was nothing like the one we had discussed, I looked from George to the audience and said, “Thanks Mr. McAllister. That sure clears everything up.” There were laughs from the audience, but the hall seemed like an echo chamber. The auditorium has seats for more than 800 and sophisticated sound and lighting systems. George loves to brag about his modern systems to other principals. Trying to measure the mood of the teachers, I mimicked George and said, “Good afternoon, fellow keepers of the light of knowledge. Before I go on to explain, I want to offer my apology. I know it"s hard enough to keep our students focused and this, uh, this event obviously made your jobs that much harder.” A low murmur came from room.

“On Friday, three of my classes were subjected to a new technology that was developed by a friend who works for a special effects company in California. He asked if I would be a guinea pig for him. He asked what subjects I would be teaching around the middle of April. I gave him a couple of options for each class and asked what he was going to do. "You"ll see," he told me. Last week, after school, they installed a projection system in my classroom. He told me that I would be surprised and didn"t tell me more.” The teachers listened attentively.

“Well, surprised is hardly adequate. The system was apparently programmed for two classes, third and seventh period. The programs seemed so authentic that I kept the third-period class in the room when the fourth came in. It was Appomattox the day after Lee had surrendered.” I scanned the auditorium; every eye focused on me. I"m used to being in front of an audience, but not one that wasn"t talking. Not a sound, not even wiggling in the seats. “The classes met Robert E. Lee and talked to him. Seventh period, the class witnessed the Triangle Shirtwaist Company fire in New York City in 1911.

“Both programs were incredibly realistic, and for a history teacher, both exciting and troubling. But fortunately, since it was a projection, no one was in danger. But, the fire scene was alarming. It had not been on my list. I had only mentioned early twentieth-century labor history. That was unthinking of me. And my friend is in a business that makes money scaring people. I told him how traumatic it was and that without lots of discussion beforehand with the kids and planning with the company, this is not a good thing to have in classrooms. Once again, everyone, I"m sorry.”

Tom Jaffrey stood up. “Fritz, like I"ve said to you already, I think it was fabulous. Aside from the disruption in our classes, which we all deal with anyway, I haven"t seen that much animation in my students since, well, maybe never.” Low-level agreement rumbled to the stage. “If we can harness this energy for our own subjects, the next few weeks could be very rewarding.”

George took the microphone. “Thank you for your opinion, Tom, but I think it would be best if we don"t have a repeat of Friday.” Clearly wanting to get away from the teachers, George said, “If there is nothing further, I hope this will answer your questions and put an end to this unfortunate incident.”

Some teachers began to get up when Liz Chambers, another history teacher, said, “George, I have a question. What was the president doing here?” The room turned quiet.

“He had to use the bathroom and then asked to see our school. So we took him around. I even asked if he would come to graduation.”

Liz said, “George, I think Friday"s event was a good thing. I actually talked to my kids about the Civil War. And they listened. It might only be for a couple of days, but Tom is right. I think Fritz did us all a big favor.” The sounds of agreement hovered over the audience.

George said, “Well that"s all. Thank you for coming.” He walked off the stage and out of the auditorium. Laughter, conversations, and some smirks appeared after the door closed.

Teachers began to leave when Al Kennedy, the gym teacher and football coach, said loudly, “The president autographed one of our basketballs. Fritz, you might not have anything to do with it, but even the gym classes were talking about Friday. It must have been interesting. I sure hope George will buy a display case.”

All I wanted was the nearest door. Teachers milled around, clearly waiting to say something to me, so I exited out a back door off the stage and headed for my classroom. Ashley had anticipated my escape route and was waiting at the end of the hallway. “Good show,” he said as I approached.

“Let"s get out of here. My place.”

We gathered our things and walked quickly to the parking lot, which was filled with teachers I wanted to avoid. Sandy Horton came out behind us. She caught me at my car.

“Fritz, I know what really happened, but this could still be a good teaching tool. I agree with Tom Jaffrey. When you figure it out, would you take me with you?”

“Sandy, candidly, I"d like to avoid anything more if I can.” I waved to a couple of teachers driving by. “It could be dangerous. George is a mess, and this meeting didn"t really go as well as I had hoped.”

She said, frowning, “Maybe we can talk about it some other time.”

“Sure.”

Ashley, waiting at his car and watching, caught my eye. I got the message, climbed in my car, and headed for home.

“SO HOW DID it go?” Linda asked, as we walked in the back door. Her laptop and an open marketing textbook sat on the otherwise empty table.

“This has been a very long day,” I said. “George ambushed me when the day started. During morning announcements, he said I would be talking to the teachers after school about Friday. That set every kid off, in all the classes. Ask Ashley.”

“Every class I had asked about Friday and did it really happen and what was Fritz going to tell the teachers? It appears to have happened in every room in the building.”

“That"s not the bad part,” I said. “The teachers thought it was great. When we were leaving, Sandy Horton said that she wanted to go with me next time. And the president"s visit is in the newspaper. This afternoon"s. I"m just afraid this thing isn"t going to die down.”

I found the article in the newspaper quickly and showed it to Linda and Ashley. As they read, I said, “This is not going to make the president happy. I"ve got to find a way to keep it from happening again.”

gotLinda knew my brain was in high gear. “Fritz, I know what you"re thinking. I know how focused you get and how passionate you are about making things right. But, if you try to open that portal, I want to know beforehand. If you figure it out, the least you can do is tell me how to do it in case something happens.”

Her knitted brow displayed her distress. Trying to relieve her concern, I said, “I love you. If we can do this together, we will.”

“Me, too,” said Ashley.

“I don"t love you.”

My phone rang. “That better not be George,” I said, opening my cell phone. The screen told me it was the White House. “Hello, Mr. President.”

“It"s Lily Evans, Mr. Russell. Please hold for the president.”

A moment later, I heard, “Hello, Mr. Russell. I"m calling to see how your meeting went.”

“Mr. President, the meeting went okay. I think the teachers are convinced of the story, but they want a piece of the action, so to speak. They seem to think it"s a good teaching tool.”

The president said, “Well, you must have done a good job with them.”

“Mr. President, if your people found anything or can come up with some idea of how to stop it, now would be a good time to tell me. I assume you know your visit here was in today"s local paper.”

“I didn"t know. I would have found out by tomorrow no doubt. But as you know, we"ve changed the schedule book. Our story is set. I appreciate, though, that you let me know. Don"t let it concern you. Besides, it"s good PR, visiting a school.”

“Mr. President, I"m doing the best I can. I just haven"t had any time to work this out. Believe me, I don"t like not being able to anticipate where my classroom will be. I don"t want any more problems with you, or with George, and I don"t want to endanger my kids most of all. It"s bad enough having to lie to them.”

“Fritz,” said the president, calling me by my first name for the first time, “I wish I had something I could tell you to put your mind at ease. I don"t yet, but let"s keep in touch. If you do find something, let me know.”

“Of course, Mr. President.”

“Then, goodbye for now. I"m sure you know that I have a bit of a crisis, in Eledoria and in Jerusalem right now.” He disconnected before I could respond.

“That was quick,” said Ashley.

“I hope I made my point with him. Hopefully, he won"t think I"m trying to hurt him.”

“I think he expects you to try to figure this out, Fritz,” said Linda. “I wonder what they found.”

LILY EVANS CALLED to say Jim Koppler wanted to come up from his office. The president said to send him in when he got there.

“What"s on your mind?” The president"s response was crisp, not inviting.

“This.” He showed the president a newspaper. “Mr. President, there is a report that you visited the school. The White House press is asking how that could have happened. There"s no record of your leaving here.”

“Jim, you are aware that there are other ways out of this cage, I assume? The press reports what they think they know, or what we tell them. So where I am is where they think I am, or where I want them to know I am. Do you honestly think that it makes sense to hide that I was in New Jersey when all the evidence says I was? Don"t make this a public debate.”

“Mr. President, I have to protest. The press has sources, you know that. You"re having been in New Jersey is the least of it.”

“And I have a list of people who know, Mr. Koppler.” The president"s responded sharply. “And I have the resources to find out where any story comes from. I want you to drop it.”

“Mr. President, that"s just not a good idea.”

“If you"ll excuse me now, Jim. I am a little busy.” He was gritting his teeth again.

“Yes, sir.” When his advisor left, the president took a deep breath, made a note, and returned to his report.

MY PHONE RANG AGAIN. “Hi George,” I said. “What"s up?”

“Fritz, Lois and I have been discussing our little problem. How about changing your classroom for now. Maybe that would help.”

“I appreciate that, George. Can I make a suggestion?” I asked.

“Go ahead.”

I told him that each time we traveled the door gave me a mild shock. I suggested that I could keep the kids safe if there were an empty room I could move them to. “I need my classroom to figure this out, George, and all my teaching materials and wall hangings are there. But if the buzzing opens the portal, a different room should be fine. I can just herd them down the hall.”

“Well,” said George, “we have some vacant rooms in the old wing. I"ll fix one of them for you, or if it"s a nice day, you could take your class outside.”

“Thanks, George. Let me know when the room is ready. Say hi to Lois.”

Nice days? “George suggested a different classroom, or going outside if it"s nice out, but the portal opened when it was stormy.”

Nice days?Following my thoughts, Linda said, “If thunderstorms start the process and you"re the connection, then any door, anywhere, could be a portal if the paperclips and books were set up. If you get a shock from a different doorknob, then what?”

“Then I"m in trouble,” I said. “It could happen anytime, anywhere. But I think it has to do with my classroom.”

ALTHOUGH MY CLASS routine followed my accustomed plan, my students" new attentiveness deviated from past experience. During the week, quite a few teachers expressed their interest in participating in any new traveling. They all suggested what they thought would be good subjects to cover, including Einstein, Benjamin Franklin, Harriet Tubman, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Marie Curie, F. D. R, Rosa Parks, and Jane Austen. The physics teacher, who happened to speak Italian, wanted to visit Galileo at the Leaning Tower. Each teacher I spoke with told me how exhilarated their students had become. I wondered if there was more to the electrical charge than just what I felt through my fingertips. At the end of the week, George came to me and said the alternative classroom was set up and ready to use if I needed it. I thanked him, but I wondered why he was so efficient at some times when he was often such a ditherer. By Friday afternoon, I had to remind myself it had only been a week since the adventures had occurred.

Ashley stopped by at the end of eighth period. “Want to play a round tomorrow? Supposed to rain on Sunday.”

“You know, Ash, I haven"t thought about exercise since we last played basketball. You know how that went. I"ll talk to Linda and let you know.”

“Talk to you later then,” said Ashley.

Friday afternoon. Quiet. Maybe I"ll have a chance to think this through. I took a deep breath, as though I was opening the valve on a pressure cooker. I looked around the room, my second home. I took the book I"d used on the Civil War from my desk and paper clipped the pages where John Wilkes Booth was described as entering the presidential box. I put it on the left side of the desk. “Left, right, center,” I said to myself.

Friday afternoon. Quiet. Maybe I"ll have a chance to think this through.Ashley was just leaving his classroom as I reached for the doorknob. “Fritz, what are you doing?” as I grabbed the door and opened it.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” I repeated.

“You"re trying to open it.”

“Yeah, but nothing.”

We both went into the classroom. “Nothing,” I said again, running my hands through my hair.

“Where were you trying to go?” asked Ash, seeing a book on the desk.

I told him I had marked Ford"s Theater. He said he was glad nothing had happened, that I could change world history if I went there. “You could end up not having been born.” I told him I didn"t know what I would have done, to which he said I ought to reconsider. His tone scolded.

“It"s been too quiet this week. Thought I"d mix it up a little.”

“You"re nuts, did you know?” said Ash.

“It has occurred to me once or twice.”

WHEN I ARRIVED HOME, I kissed Linda hello. “If it"s okay, I"m gonna play golf with Ash tomorrow. I could use the exercise.”

“Do you feel up to it?” she asked.

“Yeah, I"m fine, and maybe the quiet will help clear my head. Ash said it"s supposed to rain,” I hesitated, “on Sunday.”

“What?” she asked. “What about Sunday?”

“Storms on Sunday. Just thinking. George has the new classroom ready to use. Do you know what the weather"s supposed to be next week?”

“No, but I hope it"s nice,” said Linda. “It"ll keep you out of trouble.”

“So you don"t mind if I play tomorrow?”

“I don"t mind, but if you get tired, promise me you"ll stop.”

“And miss a hole in one? I don"t know,” I said. “I"ll call Ash and set a time.”

“Ask him if he wants food,” she said.

“Ash, golf"s OK. When? I"ll be ready. Linda asked if you want to come for dinner tomorrow. Oh?” I winked at Linda. “Really. With whom?” I asked. “See you then,” and hung up. I said, “He has a date tomorrow. Wouldn"t say who.”

Linda grinned. Ash"s romances were a regular source of roller coaster rides for the three of us. “You"re going to have to find out. We can"t let Casanova off too easily.”

“I"ll tell him you said so. One of these days…” I held up my crossed fingers.

“Fritz, I want to talk to you.” I was getting up to pour a drink but stopped and sat. “Before, when you didn"t want to teach, I was concerned. But now, this portal gets you going in the morning. I think that worries me more. You"re changing.” I felt the chill of her eyes bore into me. “You need to be careful. For both of us.”

At seven the next morning, my golf bag and I walked to the car. “Hey bud,” said Ash, opening the trunk.

“Looks like a good day to play. And a good night, too.” Ashley looked at me, said nothing, but wore his Cheshire-Cat grin.

After fifteen holes of idle chatter, Ashley said, “I"ve been thinking about Ford"s Theater. I don"t think you should go there. Last night, I was looking through a book about Reconstruction and thinking about how different things might be if Lincoln had lived. You could really screw things up, by making them better. Know what I mean?”

“I was thinking about that too,” teeing up for the next hole. “The temptation is there, but I don"t want to change history. I wonder if just going back changes anything? Linda said yesterday she thought I was changing.” At that, I swung.

“Nice hit,” said Ashley. “Maybe just going back improved your golf game.” Ashley teed up his ball.

“So who are you going out with?” I said, just as Ash made his drive and watched it slice into the trees.

“I get a do-over,” he said. “And none of your business.”

“Nice retort. Do-over costs you two strokes, unless you tell me who.”

“You don"t know her.”

“Looks like triple bogey territory to me!”

“Oh, all right,” said Ash, teeing up another ball. As he was swinging again, I said, “So?” The second ball followed the first. “Will you stop that and let me shoot,” Ashley groused.

“You keep shooting like that, and we"re talking octuple bogey.”

“Better than octogenarian bogey, like you.”

“Ow, that hurts. So tell me, and I"ll be quiet.”

“Sandy.”

“Horton?”

“Uh huh.” A slight shade of pink invaded Ashley"s cheeks. He said they had started talking about how cool it would be to meet Shakespeare, Austen, Whitman, Poe. “It just evolved. She"s sharp.”

“You need to do two things,” I said.

“What?”

“Be careful what you say, and hit the damn ball.” This time the ball went down the middle of the fairway. “That"s five so far.”

“Go to hell,” Ash said.

“YOU KNOW HE"S GOING to try to find out how the portal works. Can"t you help him?” she asked, looking up. The president ran his hand over the wainscoting and the First Lady faced him on a couch in the Oval Office.

“Not without being there. He"s the centerpiece, the key. Whatever connects the dots starts with him. And I may have a problem with Jim Koppler. I"m trying to keep him out of this. He"s seeing bogeymen while I"m still trying to see if there"s really a problem. I still want Russell tested. This is as much a problem for me as it is for Jim, or for Russell.”