The Changing Lives of Joe Hart by Shawn Inmon

Author:Shawn Inmon [Inmon, Shawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Time Slip, redemption, Metaphysical, Time Travel
Publisher: Shawn Inmon
Published: 2018-07-19T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Joe opened the curtains the next morning to find the same slate-gray sky he had flown through the night before. The curtains were still pulled wide in the apartment across from him, but the woman was gone.

Joe realized that, aside from Claire’s cookies and a single airline meal on the way to Chicago, he hadn’t had a bite to eat since he had left home. He was famished.

He tucked his traveler’s checks into the dresser drawer next to his bed and folded all but forty dollars once again into the arch of his foot, then put his socks and shoes on.

When did we start using debit cards for everything? Not until at least the 90s, right? I’ve gotta get used to carrying cash around, I guess.

Joe rode the old-fashioned elevator down to the lobby and stepped outside. He was immediately pelted with cold rain.

And, I need to find an umbrella somewhere.

First, he found a cozy diner on the corner and ordered steak and eggs. While he waited for his food, he spread out a map of the city he had gotten through the mail before he left. He had drawn an “X” where the Empire was, and he situated the map on the table so it ran north and south. He traced a finger along the map, tracing the route to The Dakota.

Joe turned left out of the coffee shop and walked through the misting rain, collar pulled up. He passed a store that had men’s suits and hats in the display window. In one corner of the window was a black umbrella stand, with half a dozen different umbrellas sticking out of it.

“Bingo,” Joe said to himself, and ducked inside, shaking the water off him as he did.

The inside of the store was sedate, separate from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. Classical music played quietly and a well turned-out man who quickly approached Joe. “May I help you?”

I’d like to ask if you have any Grey Poupon, but I don’t think that would tickle your funny bone.

“Just looking for an umbrella. Can you show me what you have?”

The man looked at Joe’s work shoes, Levi’s, flannel shirt and leather jacket dubiously, but said, “Right this way.” He led Joe to a long bar that had different kinds of umbrellas hanging on them. “What style are you looking for?”

“The style that keeps me dry,” Joe said. The man didn’t flinch, crack a smile, or move. “Can I see that one?” Joe asked, pointing to a plain black one.

“Certainly. We prefer you not open it in the store.”

“I understand. I just want to see how much it—oh my God! Does this price tag say $110?”

“Yes, sir. That model’s on closeout, so it’s marked down.”

“I think I am in the wrong store,” Joe said, handing the umbrella back as though it had turned into a snake.

“Yes, sir. I think the bumbershoot you are looking for may be a block down, in the drug store. You can’t miss it.”

Joe fled.

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