Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book II Page 5

  “No,” said Orville, “I would have read about it in the periodicals.”

  John wiped his hands on a napkin. “Take it then, it’s yours. Use it as you feel it’s best used.”

  “But,” said Wilbur, “it’s yours. We couldn’t use it.”

  “Yes, you can,” said John. “If it’s mine, as you say, then I give you permission to use it.”

  Wilbur looked at the drawing again and said. “John, would you mind if I had a talk with my brother?”

  John stood. “Of course, not. I’ve been taking up too much of your time as it is. I’ll be on my way.”

  “No, stay here. I’ll step in the back with Orville,” Wilbur said.

  John sat back down, as the brothers went through a door and reappeared in a couple of minutes.

  Wilbur blew between pursed lips and said, “Whew! John, you are a generous man. Perhaps we could entice you to work with us? With three of us having the ability to design and invent, and with our lathes and steel working tools, why, there’s nowhere we couldn’t go.”

  Orville smiled at John. “Think it over and join us for supper this evening at our home.”

  John looked thoughtful but quickly said, “Supper sounds great. What time, sirs? And I shall be punctual as I have acquired a room right across the street from you.”

  “Good!” said Orville. “Supper is at seven o’clock. I shall tell our sister, Katharine, to set another place.”

  They shook hands and John said; “Now gentlemen, I really must take leave of you and get my clothing from the hotel. I’ll see you promptly at seven.”

  He walked back to the hotel with a hop in his step. My gosh! he thought. Working with the Wright brothers. Boy, this time travel stuff is fantastic!

  The afternoon flew by as John retrieved his clothes from the hotel and set up his room across the street from the Wright’s house. At seven sharp, he rapped on their screen door.

  Wilbur opened it and with a smile said, “Come in, John, come in. Beautiful evening isn’t it?” He escorted him into the living room where Orville put down the newspaper he was reading, stood and greeted him.

  “Hello again, John. Hope you brought your appetite with you. My sister is an excellent cook.” He turned to a tall man sitting by the window and said, “John, this is my father. Father, this is John Brand, an inventor from New York.

  John put out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

  The elder Wright shook his hand and said, “Reverend Wright, sir. A pleasure to meet you. My sons have been talking all evening about your inventiveness.”

  John smiled, “They exaggerate greatly, Reverend.”

  A female voice came from the dining room, “Dinner is ready, gentlemen.”

  Wilbur took John’s arm and led him into the dining room, saying, “Come meet my sister and the woman of the house.”

  The tall dark-haired women wearing a polka dot apron said, with the hint of a bow, “You must be John.”

  “Yes. Katherine, I believe. Your brothers speak highly of you.”

  “They’d better,” she said merrily, “else they’ll be doing the cooking.”

  “That we do, dear sister, that we do,” answered Orville, as he pulled out a chair for his father.

  “Please, John, be seated,” said Wilbur, as he pulled out a chair for him at the head of the table opposite his father.

  John admired the fine linen tablecloth, highly polished silverware and fine china. As they settled themselves, he noticed an empty seat.

  “Mr. Osloe, John,” said Wilbur, answering his questioning gaze at the empty spot. “He is a boarder who has been here for two years and has become a friend of the family.”

  At that, Osloe appeared at the dining room doorway. “Good evening,” he said. He was a short, chubby, bald man with a big smile and deep blue eyes. He wore a white shirt open at the collar and black pants with suspenders similar to Wilbur and Orville.

  Reverend Wright smiled and beckoned him to the table. “Good evening, Mr. Osloe, please join us. I’m just about to offer thanks.”

  Osloe quickly took a chair and hastily arranged a napkin on his lap. The diners bowed their heads as the elder Mr. Wright said, “We thank the Lord for this food and for our many gifts, amen.”

  Orville said, “John, this is Mr. Osloe, Mr. Osloe, this is John Brand. John is new in Dayton and has a room across the street at the Andersen house.”

  Osloe smiled and said, “Are you in town on business, Mr. Brand?”

  “Yes and no, Mr. Osloe. I’m here to enjoy the quietness of your town so that I may be able to concentrate on making a better mousetrap.” John’s smile was stopped by the serious look he received from everyone.

  “Build a better mousetrap,” said Orville, “and the world will beat a path to your door.”

  John added lightly, “Well, that and other ideas I have.”

  “We saw one today, Mr. Osloe. Believe me, we have an inventor in Dayton,” Orville declared.

  Katharine cleared her throat loudly and pointed to the roast beef on the platter. “I better not hear anyone say the roast beef is cold, gentlemen,” she said, as she cut a slice and put it on her father’s plate. Conversation turned to other topics as they shared in the fine home cooking.

  After supper, they sat on the porch at Orville’s urging to watch the setting sun. Katharine brought out a pitcher of cold lemonade. The sunset at eight thirty-five, and everyone seemed to enjoy it immensely.

  John thought I have to remember. This is before television. He smiled inwardly at the brothers. The future pioneers of the aviation industry, and a setting sun thrills them. What great times we live in . . . or rather, they lived in.

  Katharine poured another glass of the cool drink for Mr. Osloe, and he turned to John. “Mr. Brand, are the sunsets in New York as stirring as here?”

  John shook his head. “Please, believe me, the answer is no. The city lights seem to take away its glow. And please, Mr. Osloe, call me John.”

  Osloe inclined his head. “Thank you, John. Tell me, did you bring tools with you?” Seeing John’s quizzical look, he continued, “I’m intrigued with tools. Silly, but maybe it’s because I’m terrible when it comes to mechanical things.”

  John nodded. “No, I just brought my sketchpad and pencils. I tend to think and put my thoughts down on paper.”

  The short man took a long drink and said, “And perfect the rodent-capturing machine.”

  Orville walked over and sat by them. He smiled and put a hand on Osloe’s shoulder. “Forgive Mr. Osloe, John. He is, as we say in the trades, ‘all thumbs.’ But he will dissect an engineer’s drawing and remember every line of it. To do what with it? Why, nothing at all, for his mechanical ability is wanting.” He patted Osloe’s shoulder good-naturedly. “But he is a comrade and helps my sister about the house. And he is an encyclopedia on inventors. He knows of them all.”

  An opportunity, John thought, and he asked, “Have you read the works of Samuel Langley?”

  Both brothers and Osloe looked at John as if he struck a nerve. Osloe recovered first and said, “Do you know of his works? I understand that he flew his glider.”

  Wow! thought John, I hit pay dirt! Then he said, “The Aerodrome? Did it fly? I knew he was getting it ready for flight, but I didn’t know it flew already. Was it a successful flight?”

  “From what I have heard,” said Wilbur, “it was a successful flight, but an unmanned flight.” John saw relief on their faces.

  “Flight is fast becoming a possibility.” John said. “But at what a cost. Why, Europe’s best glider man, Otto Lilienthal, crashed in one of his machines and died.”

  Orville sat back down and looked at the rising moon. “Yes,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “he was an inspiration to my brother and me. We surely miss him.”

  There was a long pause, and then John said, “Did you know him?”

  “No,” said Wilbur, “but we read all his papers. He was a visionary.”

  John nodded. “
Yes, he was.”

  Osloe stood up. “Good night, gentlemen. I fear I’m falling asleep and want to help Katharine do the chores before I retire.” He went inside.

  Orville asked, “John, do you have aspirations of flight?”

  John smiled. “To fly would be the most rewarding thing a person could do. To be released from the Earth’s gravity and soar aloft with the eagles, to flit between the columns of mile-high clouds, to dive like the hawk and go where no man has ever gone before. I think it is my calling.” He waited a beat, then said, “And you? Would you have aspirations to fly?”

  The brothers looked at each other. Sometimes John thought they could communicate with each other without speaking. This was one of those moments. They gave a sort of nod to each other and Orville said. “John, you have flight in your heart, as do we. Yes, we have very strong aspirations to fly. In fact, to be the first to fly is our dream.”

  John spread his arms and said, “Then, why not? Why not be the first? Have you ever thought of designing a flying machine? I mean you are both so mechanically gifted that I do believe that if you put your minds to it, you’d succeed.”

  “Ha!” Wilbur blurted out. “Have we any designs of flying machines? Sir! We have a roomful. We were well on our way to be the first to fly. Then . . . well, then . . .” Wilbur looked at his brother and raised his eyebrows. “Orville, perhaps it is getting late. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better day to speak . . . in the shop.”

  John was disappointed but could say nothing as Orville answered his brother.

  “Yes Wilbur, tomorrow would be a better day.” He turned to John and asked, “Will you join us at the shop tomorrow?”

  John stood and looked at both brothers as the moon rose behind them. It made a silhouette of them, reminding John of a commemorative coin he saw with both brothers embossed on it. “Yes, gentlemen. I’ll be there.”

  The groups exchanged good nights, and John went across the street to his room in the boardinghouse.

  The time traveler slept great that night and the next morning he skipped his walk and enjoyed a big breakfast prepared by Mrs. Andersen and served by her young daughter Kate. As he sat there he heard a dog barking, and Mrs. Andersen shouted from the kitchen, “Kate, get King and bring him in the back door.”

  Kate went to the window and peeked through the curtains. “It’s him, Mother. It’s the little man from the Wrights. He’s going out.” She looked at John and said, “King never barks. Never! Just when that man across the street goes by. I don’t understand it.” She waited and King stopped barking.

  “He’s gone, Mother. I’ll leave King in the front yard until that man comes back. All right?”

  Her mother answered, “Fine, but if there’s a complaint from the neighbors, you’ll be in the house for a week, young lady.” She came out of the kitchen and as she wiped her hands said, “Now, off to school, and don’t be late coming home.”

  Kate left and John stood up. “Can I help with the dishes, Mrs. Andersen?”

  She wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you even touch one, Mr. Brand. Not even one. Supper is at seven, and the rule is, if you’re not here we start without you and King has a big supper.”

  “Fair enough,” John said with a smile as he gave his mouth a final dab with a napkin and went out the screen door.

  He strolled over to the Wright’s shop enjoying the quiet streets without automotive traffic along the way. John, he thought, this is the life. I’ve got to get Bill to send me on more trips back. Once at the store he opened the door and as the bell jingled, Wilbur looked out of the back room.

  “John,” he said with a smile, “Come in. Come in.” Orville joined them and they sat at the small, round table.

  “John,” Orville said, “we want to apologize for being so abrupt last night. We thought it best to speak between ourselves before we brought you into our dilemma.”

  John put his hand on Orville’s shoulder. “There’s no need to apologize to me about anything. I had an enjoyable dinner and felt I was with friends.”

  Wilbur chimed in, “You were among friends, John. And I must add that my father and sister enjoyed your company immensely as did Mr. Osloe.”

  Orville continued, “You asked if we had designs of a flying machine. Well, John, we have much more, and we’d like you to accompany us to where we store them.”

  John said eagerly, “Lead the way. When?”

  “There’s a train leaving at noon today,” said Wilbur.

  “Today?” asked John, with a surprised look on his face.

  “Yes, we have left our work on flying for too long. Where we are going there is always a wind blowing and as we sit here, the wind is being wasted.” said Wilbur. “You will understand when you get there. Trust us.”

  “I do, gentlemen, I do” answered John, “How long a trip will it be?”

  “It’s an eight-hour trip to Kill Devil Hills just south of Kitty Hawk in North Carolina, but we have accommodations there. Not much, but it’s out of the wind,” said Orville.

  John looked at his pocket watch. “How long do I have to get some things from the Andersen house?”

  “We are packed and ready now,” said Wilbur, “Can you be back in one hour?”

  John nodded. “I’ll be here.” He left and walked quickly to the boardinghouse. Son of a gun, I think I did it, he thought, I think I somehow got them back on track. Wonder how I’ll be sure?

  Forty-five minutes later he opened the door to the bicycle shop, and the brothers were waiting.

  “Shall we?” said Orville as he stepped out.

  Wilbur took out his key to lock up and called into the back room, “Mr. Osloe, we are leaving.”

  John looked at Wilbur. “Mr. Osloe? Is he going to accompany us, too?”

  Wilbur smiled and said softly, “Yes. There’s much you have to learn of Mr. Osloe, John, much indeed.”

  On the train, it was John and Osloe facing Wilbur and Orville. John was torn between looking at the Wright brothers or looking out the window as history flew by at the dizzy pace of sixty-five miles an hour as the belching engine pulled them along.

  They were quiet most of the trip, but when the train had almost reached their destination, Orville sat forward and spoke in a low tone. “John, as we said before, if we were abrupt last evening, we apologize.” John started to protest, but Orville stopped him. “I must say this all at once, John. For the story I’m about to tell you is so outrageous that neither myself nor my brother have told anyone.” The conductor announced the Kitty Hawk station. “Best I finish at the house,” Orville said.

  At the station, Wilbur went across the way to “Chip’s Horse and Buggy Fixens” and rented a horse and four-place buggy with a canvas roof and sides to keep the flying sand out as much as possible. The four got in and in an hour they arrived at a small, one-story wooden building with tiny windows.

  Orville had a time getting the door opened because of the sand buildup against it. A final tug by Bill and Orville and it dragged open enough for them to enter. Wilbur tied the horse out of the wind as Orville lit an oil lamp.

  As the lamp’s light pierced the darkness John saw three cots, a table with four chairs, a wood burning stove, cans of food and a sink with a water pump. The two small windows were etched from the wind-driven sand, and it was impossible to see anything more than the gray light that seeped through.

  Orville started a fire and cooked beans and bacon and made coffee as Wilbur made up a fourth bed out of the rolls of linen stored in a corner. Finally, they sat at the table, and over a cup of hot coffee, Orville continued his story, which was hard to hear at times over the howl of the wind.

  “John, we searched for a spot that we could fly the gliders we designed and found it here. We needed lots of continuous wind for them to take off and stay aloft. We would be on the ground, one on each side of the wing holding ropes attached to it as it flew in the face of the wind.

  “We were progressing fine. In fact, we discovered that Mr. Lilienthal
’s theories were not all correct. His wing was too flat, creating much less lift than ours, which had a curve, or camber, to it. He was a great man and broke new ground, but we were fast on the road to pass him. Our glider was staying aloft longer than any of his flights, and we flew it at least fifty times. Our next step was to put power to it.”

  John looked at him, then at the rather dusty hut. “So when were you here last?”

  “A full year,” answered Wilbur. “And now that you have appeared, we hope you will help us.”

  “But, how?” John asked. “Maybe if you show me your glider I can suggest something . . . ”

  Wilbur stood and took an oil lamp off a shelf and lit it. “Come, gentlemen. Let’s go to the shed.”

  Orville held the door for Mister Osloe and John, and they walked out into the darkening evening. The wind was kicking up sand but in the distance John could just make out another woodshed, and Wilbur was heading toward it. All four men walked bent at the waist as they headed into the wind and flying sand. Orville walked next to John and explained in a voice just louder than the howling wind, “We purchased this small plot of land two years ago and built both huts on it. We had to because the wind kept tearing down our cloth tents.”

  Wilbur held the lantern as Orville opened the lock and pushed open the door. Sand was everywhere, but at least inside the structure it was out of the wind and stinging sand. Wilbur hung the lantern and lit another one. Now John could see the Wright glider sitting in the middle of the hut.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said in a whisper as he stroked the smooth polished wood. He walked around the Flyer feeling the taut wires that held her together. The linen fabric was rolled up in the corner. The three men smiled as they watched him.

  “Do you like it, John?” asked Wilbur.

  John nodded. “Yes, but, I don’t understand. How can I help you? Look at what you’ve achieved. It’s magnificent! Why, with an engine you could fly this right now.”

  “We stopped working on an engine a year ago,” Orville said, as he ran his hand lovingly along the lower wing.