Authors: John R. Maxim
Tags: #Horror, #General, #Psychological, #Suspense, #Memory, #Thrillers, #Fiction, #Time Travel
Time Out of Mind (65 page)
“
Buy a boat,” he said.
”
I beg your pardon?”
“
Sail it. You'll live longer. ‘The gods do not...' ” Morgan cocked his head. What was the rest of it? ” The gods
do not subtract...’ ” He drummed his knuckles impa
tiently, then jabbed a finger in the air toward Tilden.
” ‘
The gods do not subtract-from a man's allotted span
the time he spends in boats.’ ''
The gods do not subtract-from a man's allotted span
the time he spends in boats.’ ''
“
Just so. Yes.” Morgan nodded. It may have been a trick
of the light but Tilden thought he almost saw a smile.
“Let's take our walk.”
Just so. Yes.” Morgan nodded. It may have been a trick
of the light but Tilden thought he almost saw a smile.
“Let's take our walk.”
Morgan rose from his desk and strolled past Tilden. A
door opened by some unseen signal, and the clerk in the
cutaway appeared with a topcoat, which Morgan stepped into without breaking stride. A gesture of Morgan's right
hand told Tilden he was to follow close upon that side. He
did so through a series of other doors that were held open
for them and onto Wall Street, where they turned left up
the hill toward Trinity Church. Tilden had not a clue where
they were going, if anywhere, or what was to transpire in
the course of this constitutional. One question, at least, was
answered within a hundred paces when, at a tilt of Mor
gan's head, the doors of the New York Stock Exchange
were opened for them by two armed guards.
The floor of the exchange was in its customary chaos. A full two hundred voices, one of which should normally be that of Tilden Beckwith, shouted their calls one against the other with each quote that appeared upon an enormous chalkboard. The sound hushed noticeably upon J. P. Mor
gan's entrance. Tilden felt a hand on his shoulder. Mor
gan's hand. And with it Morgan urged him forward, across the widest portion of the floor, past men he knew in busi
ness, powerful men, men of influence, some of them build
ers and doers whom Tilden admired, too many of them
predators and tearers-down, all of them, to a man, eager adherents to Spencer's law of survival of the fittest, a most convenient theory which allowed them to believe that ex
ploiting the other fellow was nature's way, and an imper
ative that rendered fair play as superfluous as it was in the
forests and the seas. Still, some were more cynically ra
pacious than others, and Tilden found himself wanting to
break away from Morgan long enough to slap a smirking
face or two in a small knot of Jay Gould's people. But
Morgan held fast and, anyway, what he thought was a
smirk now looked more like consternation. At the far end
of the floor near where the House of Morgan had its seat,
Pierpont Morgan stopped and turned to face Tilden.
gan's entrance. Tilden felt a hand on his shoulder. Mor
gan's hand. And with it Morgan urged him forward, across the widest portion of the floor, past men he knew in busi
ness, powerful men, men of influence, some of them build
ers and doers whom Tilden admired, too many of them
predators and tearers-down, all of them, to a man, eager adherents to Spencer's law of survival of the fittest, a most convenient theory which allowed them to believe that ex
ploiting the other fellow was nature's way, and an imper
ative that rendered fair play as superfluous as it was in the
forests and the seas. Still, some were more cynically ra
pacious than others, and Tilden found himself wanting to
break away from Morgan long enough to slap a smirking
face or two in a small knot of Jay Gould's people. But
Morgan held fast and, anyway, what he thought was a
smirk now looked more like consternation. At the far end
of the floor near where the House of Morgan had its seat,
Pierpont Morgan stopped and turned to face Tilden.
“
Good day, sir.” He offered his hand. “Buy that boat.”
”
Uh, thank you, Mr. Morgan.” Tilden took the hand in
utter bafflement. Morgan's free hand loudly slapped Til
den's upper arm as if in a gesture of filial affection. Morgan leaned closer.
Uh, thank you, Mr. Morgan.” Tilden took the hand in
utter bafflement. Morgan's free hand loudly slapped Til
den's upper arm as if in a gesture of filial affection. Morgan leaned closer.
”
I vacation three months the year on mine,” he said
quietly. “For years I took no holidays at all. I have learned
that although I can do a year's work in nine months, 1
cannot do a year's work in twelve months. Take your hol
idays, young man. You will be all the richer for them.”
“
Yes, sir.”
“
When you leave, leave smartly. See that there's a hop
in your step and a light in your eye.”
Tilden did his best though he felt like an idiot. The hairs
on his neck were hot from all the eyes that he knew were
upon them. His step slowed once he reached the street. He
wandered in a daze all the way back to his office, where
he sat for an hour, undisturbed at his request, puzzling over
the morning's odd events. Mr. Scoggins knocked and en
tered.
“
Mr. Roosevelt is on the telephone, sir. He is quite in
sistent.”
Mr. Roosevelt is on the telephone, sir. He is quite in
sistent.”
“
Very well, Mr. Scoggins.'' Tilden rose. He probably
should have called Teddy straightaway.
Very well, Mr. Scoggins.'' Tilden rose. He probably
should have called Teddy straightaway.
“
And there are some other matters that need your atten
tion. All quite pleasant matters, I think.”
And there are some other matters that need your atten
tion. All quite pleasant matters, I think.”
Tilden was too distracted to question this last. He fol
lowed Mr. Scoggins through the outer office, where the level of activity seemed unusually frenetic for this hour,
and into the mail room, where he took the earpiece from a waiting clerk.
lowed Mr. Scoggins through the outer office, where the level of activity seemed unusually frenetic for this hour,
and into the mail room, where he took the earpiece from a waiting clerk.
“
Yes? Can you hear me?” He covered his other ear
against the sound of telegraph keys.
”
I just heard from him, Tilden. It went splendidly. Bully
for you, sir,” the voice crackled.
I just heard from him, Tilden. It went splendidly. Bully
for you, sir,” the voice crackled.
“
Just heard from whom? What went splendidly?”
“
Morgan. He said you had a good long talk about art,
literature, sail versus steam, and the proper admixture of
work and play. And on his advice you're going to purchase
a boat, I understand.”
Morgan. He said you had a good long talk about art,
literature, sail versus steam, and the proper admixture of
work and play. And on his advice you're going to purchase
a boat, I understand.”
Tilden paused, touching his fingertips to his temples. “Teddy, I'm afraid one of us has gone quite mad. Art and
literature?”
literature?”
“
Did you have your talk or not?”
“
Well yes, but not for a fraction of the time you seem to think. And my glancing around Morgan's office and
reading the title of a framed poem hardly constitutes a dis
cussion of art and literature.”
Well yes, but not for a fraction of the time you seem to think. And my glancing around Morgan's office and
reading the title of a framed poem hardly constitutes a dis
cussion of art and literature.”
“
To Morgan it does. You must have looked appreciative.
And in any case you've certainly advanced beyond the nod
ding and grunting stage. What about your walk through the
exchange? I’d give anything to have witnessed that.”
To Morgan it does. You must have looked appreciative.
And in any case you've certainly advanced beyond the nod
ding and grunting stage. What about your walk through the
exchange? I’d give anything to have witnessed that.”
“
Witnessed what, for heaven's sake?” Tilden shouted.
' ‘The man walked me through as if I were a little boy being
shown where his father works, and then he as much as
patted me on the cheek and told me to skip along home.”
“
How can you be so dense, Tilden? Can you be unaware
that you've just been knighted?”
Tilden closed his eyes. Of course. The flurry of activity
in his outer office. Pierpont Morgan choosing the most vis
ible spot on the entire exchange floor to stop, to shake his hand, to give for the world to see the appearance of affectionate advice.
“
Why, Teddy? Why did he do it?”
”
I told you. He likes you. He also respects your father.”
“
And?”
“
And he is also a man of gargantuan conceits. The sug
gestion was made that such is his power that a mere hand
shake, properly witnessed, was the equivalent of his
handing a man a million-dollar letter of credit. The sug
gestion was made that a pat on the arm by J. Pierpont Mor
gan has greater weight in the financial community than all
the schemes of all the Jay Goulds put together.”
“
You are a shameless man, Teddy.”
“
Thoroughly.”
”
A manipulator.”
“
To a fault.”
“
You should run for mayor again. Your plots deserve a
larger stage than the New York State Legislature.”
“
Perhaps I'll get Morgan to shake my hand as well one
day.”
Perhaps I'll get Morgan to shake my hand as well one
day.”
It was going to be fine, Corbin thought dreamily. He could
have protected her. Just as he had friends, such good
friends, who protected him. Nat... John ... Ted. Espe
cially Ted. “You never met Teddy, did you?” he asked.
Gwen was at the window, her back to him, watching the
first flakes of snow and wishing her uncle would hurry.
“Teddy?” She turned. “Teddy Roosevelt?”
“Yes.” He was staring at nothing, a wistful near smile
on his face. I
ve ...” What to say? “I've never had that pleasure.”
first flakes of snow and wishing her uncle would hurry.
“Teddy?” She turned. “Teddy Roosevelt?”
“Yes.” He was staring at nothing, a wistful near smile
on his face. I
ve ...” What to say? “I've never had that pleasure.”
“
You should have it. I should see to it. But you never
go into the city any more, do you.” It sounded, to Gwen,
more an observation than a question. An odd observation.
Wouldn't Tilden know? And wouldn't he know whether
Margaret had met Roosevelt? Maybe he wasn't talking to
Margaret.
You should have it. I should see to it. But you never
go into the city any more, do you.” It sounded, to Gwen,
more an observation than a question. An odd observation.
Wouldn't Tilden know? And wouldn't he know whether
Margaret had met Roosevelt? Maybe he wasn't talking to
Margaret.
“
Hardly ever
...
no.”
“
Perhaps we'll get him out here next summer for a day's
sail. He's quite a good helmsman, you know. One wouldn't
expect it the way he jerks about at all other times, but he
has a very soft and steady touch on the tiller.” He turned
to her, his face lighting up as if he'd just recalled an an
ecdote, but his expression suddenly clouded and his lips moved soundlessly.
Perhaps we'll get him out here next summer for a day's
sail. He's quite a good helmsman, you know. One wouldn't
expect it the way he jerks about at all other times, but he
has a very soft and steady touch on the tiller.” He turned
to her, his face lighting up as if he'd just recalled an an
ecdote, but his expression suddenly clouded and his lips moved soundlessly.
“
Tilden?”
He shook his head.
“
Is something wrong, Tilden?”
“
Don't...” He waved a hand. “Don't do that. It's me.”
He rubbed his eyes.
“
Wait a moment. It's
who?”
“
It's okay. It's me. Jonathan.” He stood up and
stretched, then bent and touched his toes several times to
get his blood flowing. ”I was only daydreaming.”
It's okay. It's me. Jonathan.” He stood up and
stretched, then bent and touched his toes several times to
get his blood flowing. ”I was only daydreaming.”
“
Was I Laura Hemmings just then?’'
”
I guess so.”
“
Why not Margaret?”
“
It's no big deal, sweetheart!” He shrugged. “This used
to be Laura's house, that's all.”
There was more to it than that, he knew. He wasn't sure
how often Tilden visited Laura by himself, but it seemed
like a lot of times over a long period. It was a way of being
close to Margaret. Why not Margaret? Gwen had asked.
Because Margaret was gone. And Tilden was very sad. And
so, as a matter of fact, was he.
how often Tilden visited Laura by himself, but it seemed
like a lot of times over a long period. It was a way of being
close to Margaret. Why not Margaret? Gwen had asked.
Because Margaret was gone. And Tilden was very sad. And
so, as a matter of fact, was he.
“
Honey,” he said, “I'm going to take a little walk by
myself.” If he stayed, Gwen would keep asking questions
about Laura. And there were, things about her that were no
one else's business.
Honey,” he said, “I'm going to take a little walk by
myself.” If he stayed, Gwen would keep asking questions
about Laura. And there were, things about her that were no
one else's business.
“
It's starting to snow, Jonathan.”
He looked past her through the window. He felt nothing.
Not fear, not even relief that he felt no fear. “You know
what?’' He followed the course of a few single flakes. “I
think it's gone.”
Not fear, not even relief that he felt no fear. “You know
what?’' He followed the course of a few single flakes. “I
think it's gone.”
Gwen understood at once. She could see it.”No sweaty
palms? No ghosts?”
Corbin shook his head. He could see in his mind all the
scenes, the people, the fading or materializing places he had
seen before, but they no longer frightened him. They'd become part of him. Like memories. He could think of the
woman running from him in the storm, but now he knew
who she was and that scene held no terror for him. Only a dim anger that she could not manage to stay dead and for
gotten.
“
All the more reason to take a walk,” he told Gwen.
“I've got to try this out.”
“
I'll go with you.” She started toward the closet.
Corbin reached for her, putting his arms around her.
“Gwen, honey, you've been holding me by the hand for
three days. Let me just give this a shot.”
“
Will you stay in sight of the house?”
He forced a smile. “That would be a little wimpish, don't
you think?”
“
It would be a lot more sensible, don't
you
think?”
Corbin tried to reassure her with a hug. “My car's been
down at the station since Friday morning. I'll have to dig
it out sooner or later.” He released her and reached for his
coat.
down at the station since Friday morning. I'll have to dig
it out sooner or later.” He released her and reached for his
coat.
“
Why can't you wait for Uncle Harry? He can drive
you.”
Why can't you wait for Uncle Harry? He can drive
you.”
Other books
Barbara Metzger by Christmas Wishes
Love's Second Chance (Second Chances Series) by Dover, L.P.
SLAM by Tash McAdam
KS17.5 - Cherchez la Femme by Dana Stabenow
Eternal Temptation by T. A. Grey
Kalpa Imperial by LAngelica Gorodischer, Ursula K. Le Guin
Eagle River by Isabelle Kane
Wayward Soul by K. Renee, Kim Young
Perfect Together by Carly Phillips