Clockwiser (16 page)

I nodded and a lump formed in my throat. All the stress with Tim and Willie. And Nate. There was something about this random act of kindness that moved me. A tear escaped and ran down my face.

“That’s very nice of you.”

He reached over and gently wiped the tear from my cheek. “I’m happy to do it.”

The electricity that zipped through my body at his touch shocked me and I stepped back.

“Oh. Um, I have to go.”

He held my gaze, which rattled me further. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

I walked away, then I turned back, knowing he would be watching me.

“My dad has a poster blitz planned for later today. Do you want to come?”

His eyes sparkled. “You bet I do.”

I tapped on Nate’s front door out of courtesy and walked in without invitation. Nate and Willie were intensely competing in a racing game on Nate’s massive flat screen TV.

I watched from behind the couch. Willie was losing but not doing so bad for a guy who’d never seen an automobile before three days ago.

He smiled up at me. “The future is fun. Do you want to play?”

Nate offered me his controls. “Here, use mine. I feel bad beating the guy over and over again.”

“And you don’t think I could beat him?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

The controls were still warm from Nate’s grip. He left the room but returned with three cans of soda. He pulled the tabs and offered them to us.

“Another modern beverage?” Willie asked.

“It’s carbonated.” I took a sip. “You’ll like it.”

Willie’s face pinched together as he swallowed, then he let out a belch.

Nate and I laughed. Willie grew red with embarrassment. “My apologies.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” Nate said

“And this?” Willie asked, tapping the can. “It’s too light to be tin.”

“Aluminum.”

Our attention was drawn to a knock on the door. Lucinda stuck her head in, “Hello?”

“Hey, Luce,” I said, waving her in.

She’d texted me when I was on the bus and I told her I was headed here.

Lucinda wore a short, flouncy skirt and a pair of cute sandals. Her long, straight dark hair hung like a glossy sheet down her back and she had a little too much make-up on what was already a flawless face.

Something told me she hadn’t gone to the trouble of looking that good for me and Nate. Her smile brightened as she locked eyes with Willie.

His face lit up, too, and he was apparently equally happy to see her. She wiggled her fingers.

I needed to get Lucinda and Tim together in a room and preach to them about the follies of cross-century relationships.

“I thought Willie might like to see the sights,” she said.

“He’s seen the mall.” I was surprised at how irritated I felt.

“Oh, wow.
The mall
.” She turned to Willie. “But you want to see more than the mall, right? Don’t you want to see more of the future?”

Willie stood and spoke without taking his eyes off of her. “Yes, indeed. I am here, and I might as well take every opportunity to experience it.”

Lucinda was quick to volunteer. “I’d be happy to take you sightseeing.”

“I don’t know. What if...” I started.

Lucinda looped her arm in Willie’s. “You can come if you want to.”

“Could I have a word, Lucinda?” I motioned with my head to the kitchen. She reluctantly let go of Willie’s arm and followed me.

“What?”

“Oh, I was just wondering how you were, with you know, your heartbreak over Josh.”

“Josh who?”

“Very funny.”

“You were right, Josh wasn’t the one.”

“And you think Willie
is
?

“Come on, Case, I’m not dating Willie. I just want to hang out. Get my mind off Josh. And I think Willie could use the distraction, too.”

“Believe me, he’s got plenty of distractions. I just don’t want you rebounding off of him. He’s not going to be here for very long.”

“I know that. Which is exactly why he’s the perfect guy to hang out with. You worry too much, Casey. We’ll be fine.” She dragged me back to the living room before I could say anything more.

Nate had turned the games off and a news channel had taken its place. Images of starving kids in Somalia, bloody clashes in Syria, gang deaths in New York filled the living room one after the other.

Willie blanched. “Acting?”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid not.”

Nate shut it off. “Where are you planning to go?” he said to Lucinda. “Maybe we can meet up with you later?”

Lucinda started twisting her hair with her finger, a sure sign that she was into Willie more than she admitted. “Oh, I’d thought I’d start with Harvard, let Willie have a better look this time. Then, maybe a museum, possibly go into Boston.”

I didn’t want her going as far away as Boston, who knew what kind of trouble they could get into there.

“You know,” I said, remembering how nervous I was about letting Willie out of my sight, “we should go with you.”

I glanced at Nate with a look that said, “Help?”

He grabbed his keys. “We can take my car.”

I couldn’t help but read more into that. Maybe I was being paranoid, but we hadn’t been alone together since the “incident” at the Commons. And now he didn’t want to be in the back seat of Lucinda’s car alone with me.

Nate drove north on Broadway.

“How fast is this contraption going?” Willie said. I looked back to see him white knuckling the door grip.

“Only thirty-five miles an hour,” Nate answered “Traffic’s crawling today.”

“Thirty-five miles an hour!” Willie whistled.

Willie had his head out the window like a red haired dog, taking in all the sights.

Nate pulled into a parking lot at Harvard Square.

“This is Harvard University,” I said. “Some of it. It’s quite vast now.”

Willie stared, his mouth gaping. “So many more buildings... and people than in my day.”

I nodded. I’d been to Harvard College 1862 only a couple days earlier.

“We could go to the Museum of Natural History,” Lucinda said. “Or the art museum.”

Willie looked at her like she was the only girl in the whole place. “Why don’t you choose?”

She giggled and said, “Okay. I’m in the mood for art.”

Nate and I walked behind Lucinda and Willie and I watched wistfully as they joked around and laughed. Lucinda touched Willie’s arm repeatedly, and by the time we got to the end of the Common, they were holding hands.

I snuck a look at Nate and saw that he was watching them, too.

Then he turned to me, and took my hand, pulling me close. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a tool lately.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

He kissed me on the forehead, and I sighed with relief. We were going to be okay.

The university grounds were massive. Actually, there were facilities connected to Harvard in Boston and other areas you couldn’t walk to from here, so it wasn’t too surprising that we’d gotten a little lost.

Before we reached the art museum, we happened upon Memorial Hall, an elaborate brick building with impressive stone arches and a high medieval-like tower. The windows were intricate pieces of stained glass. It looked more like a church than a theatre.

We stopped to read the plaque.

“Proposed by a group of Harvard graduates after the Civil War, the Memorial Hall was built as a memorial to Harvard graduates who bravely fought for the Union, and as a gathering space and theater for college alumni. Featuring a grand tower that was completed in 1877, stained glass windows, marble tablets and the Sanders Theatre, the building is owned by Harvard University.”

We took a tour inside and were appropriately awed by the masterful craftsmanship found inside and also sobered by the fact that it was inspired by the death of Harvard students in the Civil War. The same war that Willie had fought in, and that Tim was still engaged with.

“How long did it go on?” Willie asked.

This was one question I’d hoped to avoid, but he deserved the truth.

“Four years.”

Willie’s Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, like he’d expected bad news and got it.

We almost stopped breathing when we came across this: A Hymn by Oliver Wendell Holmes for the ceremony held on October 6, 1870, to lay the Memorial Hall cornerstone.

“
Not with the anguish of hearts that are breaking

Come we as mourners to weep for our dead;

Grief in our breasts has grown weary with aching,

Green is the turf where our tears we have shed.

While o'er their marbles the mosses are creeping

Stealing each name and its record away.

Give their proud story to memory's keeping,

Shrined in the temple we hallow today.

Hushed are their battlefields, ended their marches.

Deaf are their ears to the drumbeat of mourn-

Rise from the sod ye far columns and arches!

Tell their bright deeds to the ages unborn.

Emblem and legend may fade from the portal,

Keystone may crumble and portal may fall;

They were the builders whose work is immortal,

Crowned with the dome that is over us all.”

Lucinda plucked a tissue from her bag and wiped carefully under her mascara-laden eyes. “It’s so sad,” she whispered hanging onto Willie’s hand.

Nate and I followed them outside.

“So, what should we do next?” he said.

Willie answered. “Is there a library nearby?”

“You want to go to the library?” Lucinda asked, surprised.

“There would be a record of the war, wouldn’t there? Of my family?”

And the question he left unasked: a record of him, the deserter.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I said. I already questioned the wisdom of this tour of the future.

“Please,” Willie pleaded. “I need to know.”

“The Cambridge Public Library is on site.” I sighed and pointed in the general direction. “We can walk from here.”

Like many landmarks in Cambridge and Boston, the library was a mix of old and new. The old part was built in 1888 and made of stone with large front arches over the entrance and a turret that made it look like a church or a small castle. Attached was a much larger two story rectangular glass and steel structure only a few years old.

“Willie?” I said, touching his shoulder as we headed for the entrance. He looked a little downcast. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugged limply. “None of this was here. Even the ‘historical’ part of this library wasn’t around. It’s fascinating but sad for me at the same time.”

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I said. “I mean, we can come back tomorrow.”

His head shot up. “I’ll still be here tomorrow, won’t I? How long
will
I be here?”

My eyes darted sideways toward Nate and he jumped in. “These things take time. We just have to be patient.”

Willie sucked in like he was bracing himself. “I’m ready.”

It was almost as bright inside as out, with all the glass windows. I led the way to the research counter and spoke quietly to the research librarian telling her we wanted to learn about local soldiers in the Civil War. My request didn’t faze her and she took us to shelves that housed books on genealogy and local history

“You’ll also find information on the library website.” She pointed out the row of computers available for public use.

Willie had a perplexed expression and I wondered if Nate had explained the internet to him yet.

Nate immediately left the book area and headed for a computer terminal. I couldn’t help but watch poor Willie’s face as Nate typed and the screen came to life.

“A TV?” he said.

“A computer. Information traveling on...” I stopped. I feared Willie was suffering from information overload. I pulled out a chair for him. “Here, have a seat.”

A page on the library website called Massachusetts Civil War Research Center opened up. Nate read aloud.

“This site contains a comprehensive collection of information pertaining to soldiers, sailors, and marines who served in Massachusetts units and regiments during the Civil War. Information found on this site was taken in part from documents prepared, compiled, and published by the Adjutant General's Office of Massachusetts in 1888.”

Nate used the scroll down feature and the list of all the infantries appeared.

“What infantry were you in, Willie?”

His answer came out in a whisper. “The thirteenth.”