HARDYS INN DANGER by Ann
Did I mention about the several differences in my room? Let me explain. I thought someone had stolen some of my stuff. Then I wondered if Frank had one-upped his earlier prank by not only hiding my phone, but also my laptop, MP3 player, etc.. Even some of my clothes were missing!
When I stepped over in front of my bookshelves, there were definitely some titles missing. Here’s the really odd thing about that – other books were in the place of the ones that had disappeared! Believe me, I looked more than once to confirm this.
Frank seemed like this was all news to him. If he did hide my stuff, he was definitely keeping it going. Yet, I just didn’t really think this was all part of my brother’s prank. It seemed more like something I would do, for one thing. Sure, he hid my phone earlier, but he probably wouldn’t follow up with a similar thing, but on a larger scale.
I entertained the earlier idea of mine that Carmen Sandiego was in Bayport. Or the Leverage team. Then again quickly discarded those theories for obvious reasons.
And what was the deal with my clothes? That jacket on the back of my chair was not the one that’s been there. I had only gotten one suit for the event and I was currently wearing it. Stepping over in front of my closet, I took a deep breath then opened the door. The clothes were all in tune with the rest of the 1920s bedroom. The books, the electronic devices, some of the furnishings all fit with that theme.
I didn’t comically scream, but I did sorta feel like doing that as I was realizing there weren’t any items in my room that were post-1927. Summer of 1927 at that.
“Maybe there’s a hidden camera somewhere,” I muttered.
I sighed and sat down on my chair. After rubbing my eyes, I looked over at Frank. He was regarding me with his big brother concern. I felt better knowing, as he’d said, he was there for me and that we were in this together.
But what was ‘this‘? Frank had already wondered about amnesia or something like that. I didn’t remember getting hit on the head, but with amnesia, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t remember that. Sometimes amnesia is selective, if this turned out to be that. I knew who I was and everyone. Frank had checked my head, but hadn’t discovered any trauma to it. I just didn’t really think it was amnesia.
Still, what reasonable explanation could it be? “Maybe it’s not a reasonable explanation,” I suggested out loud.
Frank gave me one of his classic, patented looks with an eyebrow raised. “Such as?”
“I dunno,” I answered with a shrug.
“What’s the last thing you remember before things started being different?” he asked. “Everything seemed normal this morning?”
“Yep. Although you took my phone.”
Frank gave me another look. “‘Your phone’? That doesn’t make any sense.”
I sighed and ran a hand over my face. Could I really….possibly….be in 1927?
“How many times have we been through the Holland Tunnel?” I asked him, referring to the tunnel that connects Manhattan with Jersey City. The answer is ‘lots of times’, but if he says ‘none’….You see, the Holland Tunnel opened the 13th of November – 1927.
Frank frowned. “It’s not open yet, probably will be in the fall. So, none, of course.”
“Where’s a radio?” I asked, looking around. If this was a prank, I wondered how far it would go. I wanted to check out different stations and find out what was on them.
Frank started to answer me, but in the distance we could hear the phone ringing. Then Aunt Trudy hollered up the stairs that it was for us. Curious, I followed Frank down the stairs, anxious to see the antique telephone.
When we got there, Aunt Trudy reached my brother the handheld part. “He said it was Nehemiah calling from New York City. Do you know who that is?”
Frank nodded and leaned forward to speak into the wall mounted receiver. I waited to pick up some clues as to who’s Nehemiah, because I didn’t know.
“Hello, Nehemiah, how are you?”
I watched Frank’s face as he listened intently to what was being said.
“Yes, we can get there tomorrow morning. Usual? All right. See you then.” Frank hung the receiver on the clip alongside the long box of the telephone. I couldn’t help it, I reached over and picked up the handheld part.
“Calling someone, Joseph?” asked our aunt.
“Um, I was thinking about calling the Mortons,” I answered. It would be so cool to talk to Iola on this thing!
Aunt Trudy sniffed and moved in the direction of the kitchen. “Don’t be too long.”
She had changed her appearance, I guess for the car show, but I’d also noticed Frank never once called her Aunt Trudy or Aunty. He always said ‘Aunt Gertrude’. Just one of my observations.
I looked over at Frank. “What do I do to talk to Iola?”
He looked surprised that I didn’t know, but walked me through it. Soon Iola was on the phone. Sweet! It worked!
“Hey, Iola! How’s it going?” I asked. “I know we just saw each other earlier, but I wanted to call you!”
She gave a happy, cute giggle. “I’m glad you did!”
We chatted a while before I had to get off the phone. Then it was time for some delicious snacks. Sitting there with my parents, brother, and aunt, everything pretty much seemed normal. The details that were different were minor ones in the whole scope of things. The love, support, and respect, those essential elements were all still present. It definitely made a difference and I held onto those things.
I slept pretty well and the reasons were my family, girlfriend and friends, but most of all, I knew no matter what year it was, the same Creator, always the same and faithful, was watching over us. After all, these words are always true:
“I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.” Psalms/Tehillim 4:8