Timeless Love (5 page)

"Good morning, Joey."

He scrubbed his hand over his face and moaned.
"Morning? Jesus, I just got to sleep."

"I am sorry to disturb you, why not take the
bed?"

Joey glanced at the clock on the wall. "No,
I'm awake now. Let me get dressed."

He disappeared into the bedroom and shut the
door. A piercing wail cut through the air, she had heard the sound
many times since last night.

"Joey?" she called out. "What is that
clamor?"

"Ambulance," his muffled voice called out
through the closed door.

A couple of minutes later Joey emerged. He did
not wear the leather breeches but some dark blue material as
sinfully tight as the leather. A body hugging, black short-sleeved
shirt of some sort replaced the woolen garment he called a
'sweater'. The naked torso she had admired was clearly evident.
Every curve of finely carved muscle showed under the stretchy
material. Again those strange feelings washed over her.

Joey took her hand and led her to his front
door. He opened the entrance and they stepped outside. Catherine's
mouth dropped open. The street teemed with the horseless carriages
she had seen from a distance. This is what made the racket she had
heard through the night.

"They're called cars or automobiles, like a
carriage with an engine. There are all different types, the bigger
vehicle? It's called a truck. The ambulance is an emergency vehicle
that takes sick people to the hospital. They use a siren to get
through traffic. The siren is the noise you heard."

Joey pointed behind him so she turned and
looked. A beige brick building sat on the hill. The hospital was
one of the largest buildings she had ever seen. The structure had
an impressive copper dome at the top.

Everything moved too fast and the auto cars
were loud and smelly. A big beast went by spewing black smoke. She
jumped back. Joey's hands grasped her shoulders.

"It's a bus. Public transport like your
carriage."

Catherine leaned back against his chest. He
was a comforting presence and his hands were warm and steady. When
Joey was near she did not feel frightened or lost. It was rather a
shocking prospect. He took her back inside and closed the door. Her
mind whirled. At least she now knew what caused all the
noise.

"When do these cars come into use?"

Joey shrugged. "I think early 1900's. I know a
guy named Ford was one of the first. There are still Ford cars on
the road, it's a big company."

"Do you have a car?"

"Too expensive, I have a second hand
motorcycle. I brought you here on it, 'course you fainted so you
don't remember."

"No, I do not. I would like to know more about
these horseless vehicles and electricity."

Joey smiled.
Oh heavens, his smile was
beautiful.
"Groovy. Ah, means-cool, or nice."

She returned Joey's smile. "Groovy. I like
that word."

"Listen, after breakfast I'll take you to the
library uptown. I have a card. We'll get you a few books on cars
and electricity."

Catherine felt tears of gratitude form in her
eyes, but she blinked them back. She could not ask for a better
person to have found her. Perhaps this library would have books on
moving through time. Finding a way home was imperative, for the
attachment to her handsome rescuer grew stronger with each passing
hour.

Chapter Five

Joey did a fair amount of coaxing to get Cathy
on the motorcycle. He tried to compare the bike to riding a horse,
which turned out to be a mistake. Apparently, she didn't like the
comparison. Lady Cathy probably rode around in gold carriages.
Finally, she sat behind him and when her arms encircled his waist
he felt blood rushing to his prick again.
Damn
. He never
reacted to a woman with this intensity. She held him tight as he
headed up Waterloo Street. He went as slow as he dared, trying not
to frighten her.

"Oh Joey, can you please stop?" She called out
over the traffic. Cathy pointed at the Cathedral. "I would like to
go inside for a moment."

He pulled into the parking lot and drove up to
the front double doors. He cut the motor. "You're
Catholic?"

"No, but I would like to go and say a prayer
at any rate, will you join me?" she asked.

Joey shook his head. "No, me and church don't
mix. I'll wait here."

He frowned as he watched her slip inside. He
supposed church going was a big deal back in her time but he had no
use for it. Sitting on his bike, he watched a black Chrysler
Imperial whip into the parking lot laying rubber as it turned the
corner
. Shit. McGonagall.

The back passenger window facing him lowered.
"Well Joey, I was about to call on you. Get the money from
McKeen?"

Joey swung his long leg over the seat and
walked toward the lowered window. He leaned in. A cloud of
cigarette smoke hit him in the face.

"Hey, Mr. McGonagall. McKeen came up dry so I
laid a beating on him. He's meeting me this afternoon with
payment."

"Good." McGonagall slipped a brown envelope
into Joey's hand. He tucked the money in his back jeans pocket.
"Your cut from your collections last week. I am counting on McKeen
paying up. Don't fail me, Joey."

"I haven't yet."

Joey stood and tapped the car door twice. The
Imperial pulled out of the lot and headed uptown. Alarm bells were
going off in his gut. This situation could go south quick. Joey
knew he had to collect. Failure was not an option. He stood looking
in the direction the Imperial took. Had there been some sort of
threat in McGonagall's tone? Or was Catherine Worthington somehow
having an effect and exposing Joey to the type of man he really
was; a bum from the neighborhood. The thought brought anger and
shame.

He had to meet McKeen at two o'clock. Getting
there early was his plan. Joey knew he wanted to have time to look
the carriage over and he didn't want McKeen anywhere near the mill
while it was still there.

At least he had some bread now. He was near
tapped out. Joey pulled the envelope out and counted, it would do,
enough to pay the rent and some left over for groceries. He tucked
the envelope back in his pocket and strolled to his
bike.

****

Catherine walked the aisles of the lending
library. She was in awe. Any citizen could come in, fill out a
form, get a card, and borrow
any
book. Well Joey told her
there was a limit and it would be hard to carry a pile books on his
motorized cycle.

Joey stood at a nearby table and gazed at a
large tome. A couple of women giggled and pointed at him while
blatantly admiring his form. Catherine shook her head, not much had
changed through the ages. She had observed the exact behavior many
times at a dance or ball when a handsome man would arrive. Granted,
it was rare. None looked as fine as Joey, though the men in the
carriage were quite the male specimens. Even the older man who
looked ill and sported a touch of silver at his temples had been
very attractive.

Good heavens, what had happened to all the
men? Were they trapped or asleep in time as she was?
Catherine
felt an overwhelming concern for them all, the driver and horses
included. It was the reason she had wanted to stop at the church,
to say a prayer for everyone's safety. Perhaps it was selfish but
she also said an extra prayer for herself and her safe return home.
Joey called her name in a soft, sensual whisper. He waved her over
to the table.

"Look, here's a map of Canada." He flipped the
page of the atlas. "This is the province of New Brunswick and this
is Saint John on the Bay of Fundy. This is where we're at. Show me
where you're from."

Catherine sat down her few books and turned
the pages until she found Great Britain. She pointed to the
southern tip. "This is Cornwall and my village is here on the south
east coast. St. John has only a few hundred people but I adore the
place, it is my home."

Joey covered his hand over hers and squeezed
gently. "I know. You want to go home."

His words were assuring but she began to doubt
ever returning to the comfort and safety of her home and her
century.

****

Joey dropped Cathy back at his apartment and
turned on the radio. He instructed her to sit tight and look at her
books while he was gone. It was one thirty and he had to get down
to the mill before shithead McKeen showed up.

Tearing into the lot and leaving a trail of
gravel and dust behind him, he hit the kickstand and turned off his
bike. Stuffing the keys in his pocket, Joey walked into the mill.
There stood the carriage where it appeared yesterday. He looked
underneath and then climbed on top and gazed inside. Completely
empty, no trunks, luggage, nothing. This was the real deal, not a
reproduction. There was a gigantic hole in the roof of the mill and
sunshine poured in and covered the carriage with an eerie
illumination.

Joey's schooling stopped at fifteen but he
wasn't stupid and he read a lot. Thinking this out with logic and
common sense, this carriage must be a receptacle or vessel through
time. It reminded him of the Rod Taylor movie 'The Time Machine',
so what was the thing waiting for? Would the coach return back to
Cathy's time or go somewhere else? He scratched his head in
puzzlement. Or maybe it wasn't capable of going anywhere else.
Maybe this was a one-way trip.

He thought back to a TV show that used to be
on, 'The Time Tunnel'. He smiled as he recalled some of the opening
narration.
'Two American scientists are lost in the swirling
maze of past and future ages-'
He had thought it was way cool.
Now he was caught up in a time travel adventure of his
own.

He checked his Timex. It was almost two
o'clock. He stepped outside by his bike and waited. Fifteen minutes
passed, no McKeen.
Shit.

He knew where the deadbeat lived. He raced to
the South end of the city to the rooming house on Mecklenburg
Street. The front door was unlocked so he entered and took the
stairs two at a time. The door to his room was ajar so Joey pushed
it open. Waiting a minute he stepped over the threshold. The room
appeared empty except for a few sticks of furniture, no doubt came
with the room. Joey opened the closet. It was empty, as well as the
chest of drawers.

"What are you doing in here?"

Joey whipped around to see an older man with a
pipe in his mouth.

"I'm looking for McKeen."

The man ran a match along the doorframe and
lit his pipe. "So am I, the bum lit out in the middle of the night.
He owes me rent, five weeks worth. You won't find him here. Get
out, boy. You're trespassing."

Joey sneered in disgust and pushed past the
man and down the stairs. This was a first. No one ever ran from him
without paying. He must have misread McKeen. He was distracted
yesterday with the enchanted carriage and princess.
What in
friggin' hell was he supposed to tell McGonagall?

****

Music played softly from the stereo. Catherine
liked a lot of the music she had heard Joey play. This machine was
truly a revelation. Radio waves moved through the air almost as she
moved through time, spurned by electricity no doubt.

The more she read the more she was convinced
the lightning striking the carriage was the catalyst to everyone
being scattered through time. Unfortunately there were no concrete
theories on 'time travel'. It existed only in fiction and something
called 'movies'. Catherine did read with a great deal of interest
on the 'Theory of Relativity' by a man named Einstein.
'Time was
no longer uniform or absolute.'
It was all utterly
fascinating.

She heard the key slip in the door and in
walked Joey. He carried a cardboard carrier with bottles and a sack
filled with what appeared to be foodstuffs. Her heart swelled with
happiness.
Oh Lord.
Surely she was not developing
feelings toward him. Was she? Falling for him would be a
disaster.

She rose from her chair and took the cardboard
carrier.

"What is this?"

"Pepsi, it's a soft drink or soda pop,
carbonated like champagne but no alcohol. We'll have some after we
eat." He set the bag on the table next to her books. "I hoped you
could earn your keep by making supper."

Oh. Was he teasing?
She glanced in the
sack, but she really didn't recognize anything.

"I do not know how to cook. I cannot even make
tea. We have a cook and servants. They do such things for
us."

She watched Joey's dark eyebrows furrowed. "I
should've known. The princess wouldn't lower herself to do menial
work."

His words stung even though she did not
ascertain the true malice in them.

"I will not make excuses for living in 1821,
nor for my father being a viscount. I am not ashamed of my family
or the life I lead."

Joey lifted his hand to her cheek and cupped
it.