Book X Page 4

  Kal lifted his glass and said, “To the 1800 Club.”

  Both men touched glasses and took a sip.

  “Bill, you have a beautiful apartment and am I right in saying that your desk is an 1852 George Owr Walnut desk?”

  “Actually it’s an 1857, but yes it is a George Owr. Pretty nice, right?”

  “Wow, nice is right!”

  “Go sit at it.”

  “Are you kidding? You use it?”

  Bill nodded, “Yes. I believe that it was made to be used and enjoyed. Please, sit at it. I insist.”

  Kal sat behind the desk and said, “If my memory serves me, the top drawer is a faux drawer that folds down and pulls out.”

  “Correct, please open it.”

  Kal folded the fake drawer down and it now became a writing table while 11 small compartments with drawers were exposed. Besides the eleven small compartments, there were six scalloped openings for rolled paperwork. “Bill, you have one foot in the 1800s and the other right here.”

  “Kal, let me ask you a question, and it’s the same question that I ask any member I bring here: if you could buy anything in New York City in the 1800s, what would it be?”

  Kal shrugged his broad shoulders and said, “I really don’t know how to answer that, Bill. There are so many things that we’d all love to have, but all we can do is dream.”

  “Then, what is your dream?”

  “I’m a gun collector, Bill. Not for hunting but for the history of firearms. There is one pistol that I’d love to add to my collection, but it’s so rare that I know it’ll never happen.”

  “Was it available years ago?”

  “Oh sure. There were only two made. The German gun maker, Luger, built two special Lugers that fired a .45 caliber bullet. They hoped to sell it to the U.S. Army but we opted for the 1911 .45 caliber pistol.”

  “So,” asked Bill as he closed in on sharing the club’s secret, “what store could you have purchased it in, and what was the year?”

  “Ha! That’s easy: the 69th Regiment Armory at 68 Lexington Avenue between East 25th and 26th Streets and the date was May 15, 1932. I know because I have pictures of the meet. There was a firing range set up and trophies given away for the best shooters. But there were also booths set up with guns and gun parts for sale.”

  “And this special Luger was for sale at one of them?”

  “Yes. Nobody bought it because the owner asked $1,000 for it and many believed that the pistol was worthless, as the U.S. Army never bought it. It wasn’t until a few years later that the demand for it grew.”

  “Would you like to go there and buy it?”

  “You mean would I like to have been there? The answer is yes!”

  “Wait one moment, Kal.” Bill stood and left the room to go to his den and open a large walk-in closet. He grabbed two long coats and returned to the room with Kal. “Here, put this coat on.”

  “Are we going outside?”

  “Yes.” Bill put on his long gray tweed overcoat and watched as Kal did the same with a dark blue coat.

  Bill grinned at the sight of Kal’s wrists showing beneath his sleeves. “Just pull your hands up a bit.”

  “Follow me,” Bill said and he led him into his den. Bill stopped at the large door at the rear of his den. “Kal, I said I was going to show you some things that very few club members have seen. In fact,” he said as he took out the Time Frequency Modulator and punched in May 15, 1932 and opened the door, “I think I’ll take you back to that gun meet.”

  “What gun meet? The one in 1932?”

  “Just trust me, my friend.”

  He led Kal down the stone steps and once at the bottom, turned and said, “Welcome to another secret of the 1800 Club . . . May 15, 1932.” He swung the door open and sunlight flooded the doorway.

  DATELINE: MAY 15, 1932, PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB’S GARDEN, NEW YORK CITY

  Kal stood speechless as he shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight. “B-But, how? What did you do? Is this like one of those movie sets or something?”

  “All I did Kal was let you in on one of the club’s secrets: time travel.”

  “But-But, that’s impossible. There’s no such thing as time travel.”

  “To be honest with you, Kal, I didn’t believe it myself at first. But, look around. It’s 1932.” He put his arm over Kal’s shoulder and said, “Come on and we’ll take a stroll. Okay?”

  Both walked to the iron-gate as Bill took out his key and opened it. Kal looked around and shook his head as a red 1930 GMC panel truck drove by. It was driven by a man in a white uniform and peaked cap. The side of the truck read, BOND BREAD.

  Kal shook his head, “A bread delivery truck? They haven’t delivered bread in over fifty years and that truck; it’s in perfect condition. How can this be?”

  Bill faced him. “Kal, sooner or later you’ll believe what I’ve been trying to tell you: the club has time travel capability.”

  Kal stood looking around, then at his coat and said, “You gave me a coat from the 1930s so I’d fit in and you did the same.”

  “Right. I couldn’t let you walk around in 1800s clothing nor me in mine. One thing we strive not to do is stand out when we go back.”

  Kal seemed to straighten up. “This is incredible. What do we do?”

  “Nothing, just blend in, that’s all. Usually we go back to the 1800s and use our club training to simply fit in.”

  Kal looked at Bill with arched eyebrows as he asked, “Did you say that the date was May 15, 1932?”

  “Yep!” answered Bill with a smile. “Anything special that you’d like to do?”

  “D-Do you think that we can go to the gun meet?”

  “No problem. Just remember we are part of this time period and as much as we like to stare, we can’t seem to be out of place. Got it?”

  “Uh, sure. How do we get to the meet? Press a button or something?”

  “Ha! Kal you’ve seen too many science fiction movies. Anywhere we want to go we do what everyone else does: take a subway, cab, bike or just plain walk. But just remember this, although it’s only one-thirty in the afternoon here, for us it’s after eleven at night and we will soon be very tired, so I say we take a taxi.”

  Kal shook his head and said, “Right, right. Boy, I have to think ahead to make this work.”

  Bill slapped him on his shoulder, “Right! You got it, Kal. Just blend in. Now let’s grab a cab.”

  They walked two blocks and at the same place where Bill had taken a horse drawn carriage when he was back in the 1800s, stood three taxi cabs waiting for a fare. The high, boxy cab was painted yellow with a black and white checkered strip running along the side and the letters proclaiming, YELLOW CAB. Bill grinned as he thought, Kal must think I do this so much that it means nothing to me, but he couldn’t be more wrong. I love the spare wheel tucked into the fender with the side view mirror attached to the holding strap and the trunk with leather straps on the taxi’s rear, looking much like a steamer trunk, which is where they got the word ‘trunk’ in later cars. Bill caught the driver’s eye and the man put the newspaper down and opened the door, “Taxi, gents?”

  “Yes,” answered Bill as he held the door for Kal who sat quietly staring at everything in sight. The cab driver pulled away from the curb. “Where to gents? Yankee stadium?

  “Ah, not this time, we’d like to go to the 69th Regiment Armory on . . . “

  Before he could finish the driver finished for him, “68 Lex Avenue between east 25th and 26th Streets. Just sit back and relax guys,” he said as he wormed through the traffic.

  Kal asked, “Yankees in town today?”

  The driver adjusted his rear view mirror to look at his passengers as he answered, “Yep! We’re hosting the Cleveland Indians. Babe Ruth will smack a whole bunch of balls clear outta the park. Guaranteed!”

  They made the trip in fifteen minutes and Bill paid the fair, gave the driver a nice tip and said, “Don’t know if you’re a betting man, driver, but the Yanke
es will win today with a 5 to 0 score. That’s a guarantee!”

  “Thanks, guys.” The cabby said with a smile as he took off.

  The two men walked up the front stone stairs and entered the huge Armory. There were flyers all over the vestibule telling all that there would be shooting contests and if they had sensitive ears they should ask for cotton from the young men supplying it inside.

  Bill opened the main doors and smiled as he remembered seeing the great aviator, Cole Palen, as he personally wiped oil from the bottom of the engine of one of his many early aviation aircraft that he had at the armory for a show. Bill turned to see Kal standing open mouth at the gun show. To the front of the huge room could be heard gunshots as the shooting competition took place.

  He suddenly grabbed Bill’s arm and said, “Bill, can I use my credit card here? I mean, I didn’t know we were coming here and all I have is about ten bucks on me.”

  Bill grinned and said, “Don’t worry. When I went to get the two coats, I grabbed some money from this time period. Now, let’s go buy that pistol.”

  “B-But, I can’t let you . . . I’ll pay you back when we . . .”

  “Shhhh! Don’t sweat it. It’s on the club. Just keep it a secret between us.”

  “But I can’t . . .” Kal protested.

  “I can write it off. Believe me it’s a recruiting expense.”

  “Well, when I look at where we are, I guess I have to believe you.”

  They walked around the show until they came to a stand with an overhead sign that said: JOHN SABATELLA’S GUNS AND GUN PARTS.

  “Good day, gents, said the man behind a large desk that had pistols and pistol parts displayed on it. “Anything special that you’re looking for?”

  Cutting to the chase Bill said, “We’re looking for a .45 caliber Luger pistol and heard that you have one.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do have one.” He reached for a black box and opened it to show a felt cutout for the exact outline of the Luger it held. Next to the pistol were two clips with .45 caliber bullets.

  “May we see it?” asked Bill.

  He handed him the pistol and Bill passed it to Kal who held it tenderly.

  “She’s a beauty,” he said looking at he pulled back the Parabellum works. “Is it for sale?”

  “Yes, sir. Would either of you gentlemen care to try it out on the shooting range?”

  Bill looked at Kal and shrugged his shoulders.

  Kal shook his head and said, “No thanks. How much are you asking?”

  “Three hundred, but we can come to an understanding.”

  Bill took out a roll of money, counted out three hundred dollars and handed them to the dealer. “Please give that a count, sir,” he said as Kal looked on wide-eyed.

  Sabatella nodded, “Three hundred it is.” He took out a receipt book and made the exchange passing the box to Bill who passed it to Kal.

  Kal once again cocked the pistol using the German designed Parabellum cocking system.

  “That’s weird,” said Bill pointing at the Parabellum action of the gun.

  “It’s known as a Parabellum cocking system. Do you know what the word Parabellum means?”

  At Bill’s shrug he answered, “Parabellum is ancient Latin meaning, ‘si vis pacem para bellum or, If you wish for peace prepare for war’.”

  Five minutes later they were in a taxicab heading back to the club.

  Kal asked as he alternated between looking at Bill and out the window, “Bill, just one question: why?”

  “I needed you to believe that we could travel in time. As to why, when we get back to the club I’ll show you why.”

  The cab pulled up at the club’s rear entrance and once again Bill opened the iron-gate and the inside security door.

  DATELINE: JANUARY 20, 2014, PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Bill opened the door to his den and was greeted by his beagle sniffing for food. Bill scratched his ears and took a treat from his desk drawer and tossed it to him.

  “Grab a seat, Kal. I want to show you something that will answer your question: why?” He took the hologram cylinder and depressed the indent and instantly a six-inch figure appeared on his coffee table. Bill sat back as a slightly shocked Kal watched the diminutive Joseph Sergi explained the mission.

  Bill sipped his hot chocolate while Kal nursed his cup of tea. He stared off into the distance as he accepted all that had happened this evening.

  “Bill, this is nothing but fantastic. Time travel, then the pistol followed by a plea from a man in our future.” He looked at Bill and went on, “Did you have the same reaction that I have?”

  “Yes. The first time I went back I thought it was some sort of a trick. But when I went on my mission, I found that I was totally immersed in the part I played. And I thank the 1800 Club for the ease that I slid in and out of any time period.”

  Kal nodded and said, “Well, there’s something that you don’t know: the fortune that we are searching for has been looked for by others before us. In fact, I myself have spent two weeks in the deep forests of that area doing the exact same thing that they all did: look for the Sergi/Custance Treasure.”

  Bill sat back at this news. “You mean there are others that look for the same treasure?”

  “There is a small group who try to keep the treasure a secret and every year, after the winter months, they descend on the area.”

  “But,” added Bill as he put his empty mug down, “you have a huge advantage over them.”

  “What is that?”

  “You can go back to a time of your choosing, well before any treasure hunter thought to search the area.”

  Kal nodded, “This is true. And I can eliminate the areas that I and others have already searched.”

  “Look,” said Bill as he rose from his chair, “why not go home and sleep on it. Come back when you have a better grip on it and let me know if you want to go on this mission.”

  Kal stood and said, “Bill, I really do want to go on this mission. I know the area better than most and speak the language. No, the mission is mine.”

  “Then it’s yours. As I said come back when you are set.”

  “Should I bring any special clothes or anything?”

  Bill shook his head and said, “No. We have everything you could think of.”

  The two men shook hands as the clock struck two. Bill escorted him to the changing room and locked the door after he left.

  The room was dark when Bill heard a light tap at the door. He started to sit up as Samson dug himself out from under the covers and joined him at looking at the door that was now opening. The beagle’s sensitive nose told him that it was Matt and he was carrying a tray full of food. He automatically hopped off the bed to sit and beg as Matt placed the tray on a breakfast table and swung it across Bill’s midsection as he sat up.

  “Matt, that smells fantastic!”

  “Thank you, sir, coffee?”

  “Yeah, that sounds great.”

  His right-hand-man poured his coffee and then pulled back the dark brown drapes and the white linen curtains behind them. Sunlight flooded the room and both Bill and Samson squinted.

  “I thought perhaps I would walk Samson, sir. Unless you desire a stroll?”

  “If you wish to walk him, that’s fine with me, Matt. Any place special?”

  “There is a certain water hydrant on Broadway and Ninth Street that he seems to enjoy . . . ah, shall I say, ‘using’?”

  Bill grinned and nodded as he dipped his buttered, rye toast into the yolk of one of his sunny side eggs. “You two seem to have a silent conversation going,” he grinned, “Who am I to stop the beagle from visiting his favorite stop in New York City?”

  “Thank you sir, and that particular hydrant was located in 1879 and just by coincidence so is the Scotch Bakery that carries Scotch pies, blood pudding and potato Scones. I thought perhaps I should pick up a package of both.”

  Almost drooling, Bill said, “Matt, you always say the right
thing.”

  Matt left and after breakfast Bill showered and changed. It was ten a.m. when the club’s phone rang and Bill picked it up.

  “The 1800 Club, how may I help you?”

  “Bill,” the voice on the other end said excitedly, “It’s me, Kal. Can I stop by today?”

  “Certainly, Kal. Come on over whenever you want.”

  “See you in thirty minutes,” the excited voice said.

  Thirty-five minutes later Bill led Kal to the round table in the alcove that gave them the view of downtown Manhattan, Brooklyn, Staten Island and New Jersey. They had just sat when Matt entered the room with a platter of meats, cheese and bread along with a pot of coffee and cups.

  “Matt,” Bill said, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I hope you and Mister Kurop have not had too long a time without refreshments, sir.”

  “Ah, no, actually we just sat,” Bill said as he looked up and with pleading eyes, “ Did you get everything on the list?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. All is ready for tomorrow morning.”

  Bill smiled and said, “Matt you’re the best. And tell me, did Samson get to see his favorite spot?”

  “That he did, sir, that he did.” Matt left the room as Kal lifted his cup of coffee and said, “A toast to the 1800 Club and the Treasure of Sergi/Custance.”

  “Bill raised his mug, “To the club and the treasure.”

  “So, Bill,” said Kal looking at some notes he took out of his jacket pocket, “As far as the world knows the treasure was moved from castle Sergi between 1683 and 1700. The rumor states that it was buried in the Gyulafehervar section of the Carpathian Mountains. It also says that the men who moved it were buried with it and the only one who knew where it was buried was Count Sergi Gyulafehervar and he supposedly never spoke of it. His family lived in the same castle until 1867 when the castle became so weak it started to crumble. Now as I’ve said, I spent a few weeks in the area searching for the treasure and looking at old maps it became clear that over the centuries landslides and small earthquakes along with heavy rains that caused flooding and uprooting trees and boulders have changed the face of the entire area.”