A Rift in Time by Clark Graham

Author:Clark Graham [Graham, Clark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-23T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

New York, New York

1913

As he walked down the street, everyone was staring at him. Felix ducked into a men’s clothing store. An hour later, he emerged with a black suit, bow tie, and a bowler hat. Now as he walked around, no one stared. He walked the five blocks to the right. In front of him stood a large building that shot straight up from the sidewalk. Lots of windows dotted the exterior. He walked in. “I’m looking for an apartment.”

“I have just the thing for you. Let me show you the way.” The manager, complete with suit and tails, oiled down hair and pencil-thin mustache, led Felix up the five flights of stairs.

“No elevator?” Felix huffed. He was out of breath by the time they reached the top.

“Oh, no. Not in a short building like this.”

“I see.” He opened the curtains to a view of the waterfront. “Wow.” Clippers and full-rigged brigantines dotted the harbor. A steamer drifted past as he watched.

“Not much to look at, only the ships coming and going, but I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

“I’ll take it.” He hadn’t seen the rest of the apartment.

“Very well. That will be five hundred.”

Felix swung around. “A month!”

“Heavens no. That is for the year.”

“Oh.” Felix pulled out the bills and counted them out into the man’s palm.

“I’ll be back with your receipt.”

As the door shut, Felix walked through every room, a kitchen, fully stocked with pots and pans, all of which looked new, a couch that belonged in a museum. In fact, all the furniture did. It was ornately carved wood with satin fabric. No carpeting, but throw rugs covered most of the wood floor. The bed had dark wood paneling at the head and the foot.

He wandered some more. “Where’s the bathroom?” He opened the door to what he thought was a closet. “Whew.” It had a sink and a toilet with the tank near the ceiling. A chain off the side of the tank dangled down. The seat was made of wood.

“I hope there are no splinters.” I’m talking to myself. I must be losing it.

After the tour, he went to lie down. He hadn’t slept much in the cot the night before. A knock on the door stopped him. He answered it and was given a receipt by the manager. “Thank you.”

The manager just grunted and made his way down the stairs.

Deciding he was hungrier than he was tired, he headed back to the restaurant. The same waitress was there, or was it her sister? He couldn’t tell. He sat down at the same table he had before.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“I’ll have a steak and a beer.”

She checked the clock on the wall. “No, too early for beer. How about a Coca-Cola?”

“No, please bring me a water. Coca-Cola still has cocaine in it at this point in time.” His eyes widened when he realized what he’d said.

“At four o’clock? Will it change as the night progresses?”

He laughed, “I just want ice water.

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