The Tesla Gate (28 page)

The moldy basement was like a rose garden compared to the rest of the house, so that is where I spent my home time. It wasn't that bad; at least I could play with Seth and his new friend, Patrick. I don‘t think it was really fair, but somehow I always got cast in the role of Darth Vader. You really have to be on your guard when two kids who barely come up to your waist are wielding broom-handle lightsabers. Fortunately for me, that was not all we played. An old checkerboard and a dusty deck of playing cards also provided hours of quality entertainment.

Patrick was starting to take to me as if I was the father he didn't have. I say “didn't” because the subject of his parents has yielded nothing. Every time I asked, he gave me a shrug and halfhearted smile, then clammed up, which is unusual considering the kid would talk my ear off otherwise. I don't know if they are living, Impals, or moved on. Dead just doesn't seem to have the same meaning anymore, at least not in the traditional sense. I think I was starting to realize that death has never really existed; there is no death, only transition. The evidence is all around me.

I was curious to know about Patrick's parents but that was a subject with which I would have to be patient. I couldn't do anything at the moment, anyway, other than to be his surrogate dad, and that is the role I would play for the little guy. If they were still around, I could imagine what they were going through right now. I could picture it vividly because all I had to do was think how I would feel about losing Seth.

As we played our games in the cellar of the ancient townhouse, some of the Impals ventured out cautiously, batteries in hand, or in pocket, as the case may be. They wisely never strayed more than a couple of blocks. I was encouraged from their reports that no one seemed to pay them any attention, including several police officers and military personnel. The Impals that made the transition prior to 1950 required a little more discretion, however. Due to their eternally antiquated wardrobe, they were forced to relegate their city walks to nighttime tours, avoiding the curious that might question why someone was dressed like they were in an episode of
The Untouchables
, or worse yet, an episode of
Little House on the Prairie
. Sure they could have gone to a clothing store and gotten clothes to wear over their permanent Impal clothing, but clothing took a lot of effort for an Impal to keep on. My understanding is that it is much more difficult than squenching. It also wasn't worth the risk of having an eager clothing store clerk make contact with their skin, which would have been an instant giveaway.

Putting the clothing issue aside, what did all this mean? It meant that I might yet be able to keep my promise to Seth. We may be able to walk in the door of the Air and Space Museum just like any other father and son that the government deemed to be “normal.” I was excited and had a sense of purpose again for the first time in a while. Things were going to work out. Things were going to be okay. At least that is what I thought until the next morning, when I woke up and Seth and Patrick were gone.

CHAPTER 30

Across the Mall

“I am determined to live without illusions.
I want to look at reality straight. Without hiding.”

—Hanif Kureishi

I shot up off my cot when I realized the absence of the two boys, my heart hammering. I had been having the stupid dream again, the one that had been thankfully absent from my sleep since the storm began—the one where Seth disappears.

I calmed momentarily when my rational brain woke up and realized that they must be off playing somewhere. But, my rational brain was soon overruled when I conducted a search of the cellar and realized they were not there.

Surprisingly, no one had seen them leave. I almost kicked over one of the squench buckets—there were no animals in the cellar—as I bolted for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I recklessly flung myself through the kitchen door and straight through the torso of Abraham Lincoln. I let out a cry of shock as I fell back against the china cabinet, which fortunately had solid wood doors, not glass. Lincoln looked at me with an uncharacteristic expression of shock and horror. I had the wind knocked out of me, so he spoke first as he gingerly rubbed his abdomen where I had made my rude entrance.

“Are you okay, Tommy? What's wrong?” he asked with a disconcerted look at the open cellar door, which was gently tapping against the wall.

“Seth is gone!” I rasped as I pulled myself up and headed for the front door. I had barely taken two steps when I felt a cold hand on my arm.

“I'm here, Daddy,” a familiar voice said.

I looked down to see Patrick beaming up at me, a silver spoon clutched in his other hand.

“Where's Seth?” I blurted.

Patrick gave me a sad frown and pointed to the other side of the kitchen. There sat Seth stuffing his mouth with a large spoonful of Chockit Berries, as he calls them. He beamed at me from across the green wooden table, his cheeks swollen like a hoarding hamster with his favorite cereal.

“Seth, where … how … I was worried,” I stammered, hardly noticing the ever-prevalent odor that still permeated the upstairs of the house.

Impals seemed to have a very poor, if any, sense of smell. Eating a large bowl of cereal would have been the last thing I would attempt because I would have done my own version of squenching all over the antique tile floor. But the smell was the last thing on my mind right now.

I walked over and hugged my boy and kissed him on the forehead. “I was worried, son.”

“I'm afraid that's my fault, Tommy,” Lincoln said. “He asked for cereal and we didn't have his particular brand, so I … went to the market around the corner.”

“Like that?” I asked incredulously, pointing at Lincoln's clothing. Had he given us away, all for the want of Chockit Berries?

He straightened up with a look of righteous indignation on his face and grasped his lapels, running his hands up and down along the length.

“I can assure you, sir, that this was a very stylish wardrobe in my day, very stylish indeed.”

I didn't mean any disrespect; my worry had gotten the better part of my brain for a few minutes. Thankfully, I saw the mischievous twinkle return to Lincoln's eye. He pointed to a coat rack in the corner where a long beige trench coat hung from one of the arms.

“As it turns out, Mr. Guffey's brother and I are about the same size, and he left his coat here last month,” he said as he walked over and patted the pocket of the coat. “A pocketful of batteries didn't hurt either.”

“No one recognized you?” I asked.

“I got some funny looks and some laughs, but I don't think anyone knew I was an Impal.”

I shook my head in exasperation and sat down at the table beside Seth. I patted his cold little head while he shoveled the last remaining spoonful of chocolaty goodness into his mouth. I felt a cold tug on my other hand. I looked down to see Patrick smiling at me with anticipation. I patted him on the head and winked, then turned my attention back to Seth. I guess Patrick was expecting a little more, because he skulked across the room and sat down under the coat rack. A look of weary dejection melted his face into a pitiful frown. I was about to call him back when Seth spoke.

“Can we go to the moozem today, Daddy?” he asked.

I smiled and winked, then turned back to look at Patrick. He was gone.

“Where …?” I asked Lincoln as I pointed at the coat rack.

“He went back downstairs,” Lincoln said then shrugged. “He didn't look too happy.”

I started to get up and go after him when Seth spoke again.

“P-l-l-l-e-e-e-a-a-a-s-e, Daddy,” he begged.

I looked at Lincoln.

“What do you think?” I asked. “Do you think it is safe?”

Lincoln motioned for me to follow him into the hallway. I did so, but not before soaking a kitchen rag in lemon juice and placing it over my nose and mouth; the smell was much, much worse out there. When we were reasonably out of earshot of Seth, he spoke.

“My honest opinion, Tommy? I don't think it will ever be completely safe for Impals. It's only a matter of time before they get wise to the battery trick, and then where will we be?”

“I don't think they have, though. I think we would have heard something about it on the radio.”

The truth was there was very little news on the radio anymore. What there was had been filtered into government fluff pieces. The press was no longer free, just free of dissent. A chill ran down my spine when I thought of how all this had happened in such a short time.

Lincoln put his fist to his mouth and laughed; not a mirthful laugh, but one of restrained and somehow polite mockery. I guess that was the politician in him.

“Please tell me you don't believe that,” he pleaded. “If they have discovered it, do you honestly think they would announce it to the public? That would certainly put a dent in their ability to round us up if they said they knew. For all we know, they might even have some high-fangled machine that detects Impals with batteries.”

I shook my head and shrugged.

“You're right, of course,” I said, casting a furtive glance over my shoulder at Seth, who had just prepared another heaping bowl of cereal. “So we just sit here and do nothing?”

Lincoln shook his head and smiled.

“Now, that wouldn't be living would it?” he said with a wink.

“You think we should go?” I asked.

“Tommy, life is always dangerous and full of risks, but those risks are what make life worth living.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I know, I know … Impals aren't living life in the traditional sense, but the concept is the same.”

I looked at him for a long moment. He returned my gaze with a serene smile.

“If I don't go now I may never be able to,” I said. “This is what we came for, this is what I promised.” I took a deep breath and finished. “We'll go today.”

Lincoln said nothing but just smiled and patted me on the shoulder then went back down in the cellar. That was the last conversation we would have before Seth and I left for the museum. I was filled with excitement because it looked like I would finally be able to keep a promise to my son.

We left as a threesome a little after 10 A.M. It didn't take much coaxing to get Patrick to brighten up when I told him where we were going. There was no need for a change in wardrobe since both of the boys had fairly modern and hip clothing.

They each stuffed their pockets with a fistful of batteries. My heart both swelled and sank at the same time. Seth looked exactly like I remembered him before the accident. Not that much had changed other than the silvery glow was gone. It was not even a change in attitude. It was more like a reinforcement that I had my son, a reminder of what I had lost and then found again.

We stepped out the door and then turned left toward the Washington Monument, its tip barely visible above the surrounding buildings. Seth pointed excitedly when he spotted it looming over the top of a brownstone hotel and Patrick gave him an acknowledging smile. The walk to the mall only took five minutes, but in that time Seth said enough to fill a book—a thick one. He pointed out every historical site we came across and then gave a brief synopsis of the historical importance. I knew he was smart for his age, but geez. He could have probably made a good tour guide.

He asked to climb on my shoulders to get a better look at a monument of someone on horseback across the street. At first I was hesitant because I knew Seth had a tendency to relax on occasion and, well … start sinking.

“Seth, stay steady and stay up, understand?” I said.

“Yes!” he said and smiled reassuringly.

I lifted him up and set him on my shoulders. He bounced excitedly a few times, causing his butt to sink between my shoulder blades, but that stopped when I squeezed on his calves.

“Seth, up and steady,” I reminded him.

He instantly settled in, resting his hands on my cheeks. Luckily it was a warm day or that would have been very uncomfortable.

When we reached the Mall, I was dumbstruck with awe. It was a sight I could never get used to, no matter how many times I have visited the capital city. The sprawling expanse with the enormous Capitol building on one end, the gargantuan tower that is the Washington Monument in the center, and the impressive Lincoln Memorial on the opposite end were breathtaking sights to behold, but it was different today.

The lavender skies with the yellowish clouds were an eerie backdrop to the manmade beauty of the city. It was hard to describe, but it seemed to magnify everything, making the already impressive seem absolutely fantastic. Having been cooped up in a cellar for days caused me to forget about the weirdness of the phenomenon, but in a way it was good. If the skies were lavender and yellow and the nights looked like ultraviolet light on a black-light painting, then that meant Seth was still here. That being said, I think I could get used to it.

We had just come around the corner of the American History Museum when Seth spotted the goal to our quest across the way.

“There it is, Daddy!” he shouted.

I felt a cold hand on my side and looked down to see Patrick looking up at me with a hopeful expression, but once again, Seth drew my attention.

“Let me down! Let me down!” he shrieked with rabid, kid-like anticipation.

Fearing Seth's excitement would send him sinking all the way to my navel, I carefully lifted him off my shoulders and placed him on the ground. He was like a windup toy with one purpose in mind when he hit the ground with his feet churning. I laughed when I thought of the Energizer bunny, because Seth was running on batteries, in a manner of speaking, even though they were Duracell.

“Whoa, buddy!” I said as I grabbed his hand, which quickly sank through mine as he pulled away. “Seth!” I barked, probably a little too loudly, drawing the stares of several pedestrians. The last thing we needed was to draw attention to ourselves. To my relief he stopped and turned around.

“Sorry,” he said.

I knelt down so I could look him in the eye.

“Remember, buddy, we have to be calm, we have to be smart, and then we can have fun.”

“I've been good,” Patrick mumbled.

Before I could acknowledge his comment, my heart leapt into my throat at a shrill noise behind us. I turned to see a police car flanked by two motorcycle cops. Trailing the police officers was a convoy of dark SUVs and a couple of limousines with fluttering flags adorning each side of the hoods. It was a motorcade of VIPs or dignitaries, maybe even the president himself. We couldn't tell for sure because a crowd swarmed in front of us to get a better look, obstructing our view.

We had gotten this far without drawing much attention to ourselves, so I decided not to press our luck. With the crowd's attention now drawn to the motorcade, I grabbed the boys' hands and led them across the grass toward the Air and Space Museum on the opposite side. We passed a carousel, which of course Seth begged to ride until I reminded him that our objective was just right across the street.

We crossed the street and went up the stairs; I think I was almost as excited as Seth as I could see some of the historic planes hanging from the ceiling through the large glass windows. When I looked back down, the wind drained right out of me as my heart sank. I had forgotten about security.

On any normal occasion, it would have been no big deal—just empty your pockets of anything metal and step through the detectors. Only these weren't normal circumstances. The one thing that Seth and Patrick had that was metal was the one thing they needed to keep their cover: the batteries.