Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book 14 Page 6

  The round so-called frying pan left about two feet between it and the wall of the round basket. The frying pan also kept the time travelers warm as the lift-giving heat from the flames prevented any snow from accumulating in the basket. Stacked in between each man were a few small bags of coal.

  It was then that they saw two sets of lights turn off of the road and head towards the tents and them.

  “Police!” called Rocky as he jumped in.

  John did the same and cut the four ropes that tied them to the earth. The balloon started to rise and all at once the wind took it towards the police vans.

  “What’s that over there?” asked Lieutenant Doyle as he watched from the open window behind the driver.

  “Tents. Carnival types set up tents and fleece the average person who doesn’t stand a chance to win,” answered the policeman driving the van.

  “Stop here!” shouted Doyle. He pointed at two policemen, “Get out and wait here. I’m going down to those tents and see if they’re hiding out there. You stay here with the other van and make sure they don’t ride past you while I’m down there.” The two men opened the rear door and mumbled under their breath as they climbed down to stand in the snow.

  The police van started down the slight incline towards the tents. They were approaching the tent that Danny lived in when all of the sudden a huge inverted teardrop-shaped object came right at them. With a loud noise the basket crashed into the front corner of the van’s roof opening a gaping hole in it.

  “What the heck was that?” asked Doyle as they watched the balloon bounce twice on the soft snow before going up into the night sky.

  “A balloon!” answered the driver excitedly. “I saw one at a carnival upstate last summer.”

  “Turn this rig around! Follow that thing.” Doyle pulled out his gun and aimed up through the hole in the roof and fired off a few shots.

  The quick turn threw all of the policemen in the back off of the bench seat which created panic as they hadn’t seen anything except the sudden opening of the roof and the lieutenant firing his gun up at the dark sky. They were all trying to take out their pistols at the same time in the dark crowded van that was now allowing snow to enter. They almost didn’t stop for the other two policemen standing in the cold with their pistols drawn as they watched the balloon float by them and the other van.

  Hitting the van caused the balloon to rise rather than float along just above the ground. The shots made the three men hunch over automatically as the bullets bounced off the bottom of the frying pan with a ping.

  John quickly used the scalpel to cut loose one of the ballast sandbags lessening the weight and the balloon started to rise faster. They were about one hundred feet up and could easily see the two black police vans following them against the white snow. Every now and then a shot would ring out but they were either out of range or hard to hit from the bouncing van.

  “I figure we are about ten stories or one hundred feet high,” said John as he looked down.

  The wind was their friend and enemy at the same time. While it propelled them along, the basket was open to the weather and the men really didn’t have heavy winter clothing on. Matt was wrapped in the two blankets and the three men stood in a circle as close to the fire as possible.

  “Is there any way that we can get away from the road?” Bill asked as he blew into his clasped hands.

  “That’s the problem,” answered John as he fed more coal into the fire. “We are all heading in the same direction . . . in fact the only direction we can take to get home.”

  “Can’t we go higher so they can’t see us?” asked Bill.

  “Or shoot us,” added Rocky.

  “The second problem is if we go any higher the wind might be blowing in another direction and we only have so much coal.”

  “Maybe their horse will get tired,” quipped Rocky.

  A shot sounded and struck the basket barely missing Rocky’s hand.

  “Okay guys,” said John. “The light of the fire in the frying pan is reflecting off of the bottom of the balloon giving them a perfect round target to aim at. We better go up and hope we find another westerly wind. Better lost than shot.” The balloonist cut another sandbag free and the balloon immediately began to rise higher into the sky. He peered down at the road and after rising about another fifty feet the balloon suddenly turned south.

  “No good,” called out John over the wind, “we’re heading towards the ocean.” He dropped another sandbag and again the balloon began to rise. Now visibility was zero and John searched for a westerly wind to get them back on course. At two hundred feet he found the wind he was searching for.

  “West! At least I think its west. I say we fly this course for thirty minutes and let down gradually until we see a landmark.”

  The others agreed with a nod.

  John watched the glowing hands of his pocket watch and after thirty minutes said, “Okay gents down we go and see where the heck we are.”

  “How do you go down in a balloon?” asked Rocky?

  John untied a rope that came from the inside of the balloon and answered, “This rope is attached to a flap at the top of the balloon and by pulling it the flap opens and lets out some of the hot air. It’s something that I hate to do because we only have so much coal left to reheat the air in the balloon should we need to go back up. The trick is to let out just enough to start us sinking but in this dark and stormy night we have nothing to use as a reference so we really don’t know how far we have dropped.” He pulled the rope and the flap opened allowing some hot air to escape. After two minutes he let the rope go closing the flap once again. They drifted along not knowing how high they were and he pulled it for another two minutes.

  “The ground!” called out Rocky. “I can see the ground coming up.”

  John released the rope and quickly added coal to the fire as he quipped, “That’s not the ground coming up, Rocky, that’s us going down!” He threw another batch of coal in the flames and the balloon started to slow its descent. “Can you see anything guys?” he asked peering down at the ground.

  “I can see the ocean to the right,” said Bill.

  “That’s good. If we keep the ocean to our right we are going west. Watch out for the road.”

  The wind kept them on a steady western course as houses started to appear. There now was a distinct white line that ran straight with houses on either side of it.

  “That’s the road we took out here,” said Bill.

  Suddenly out of the dark came Matt’s voice. “Sir. Is that you?”

  “Hey! Matt’s awake! Matt, how do you feel?”

  “Like Cleopatra when she was rolled up in a rug.”

  “Matt, it’s so good to hear your voice. Can you move?”

  “I can move my arms but my legs have pins and needles.”

  “Boy, Matt do we have a lot to tell you.”

  “And I have a lot to tell you as well. Might you be so kind as to remove this blanket?” Bill quickly undid the blanket, but insisted that he keep the second one over his shoulders.

  Suddenly Rocky said in a whisper, “Guys! Alert! I see the police vans! They’re on the road slightly ahead of us.”

  “If he looks back and to his left he’ll spot us,” said Bill.

  John quickly pulled the rope that let hot air out and they dropped closer to the ground. “At this height we’ll be lower in the sky and we can keep the houses between us and them.”

  It became a balancing act as whenever they approached a rise in the ground or a tall house he cut one of the sandbags loose and popped up only to have to open the flap and dump hot air to get lower and out of sight of the police vans still heading in the same direction they needed to go.

  “We’re getting close to having to land guys. The coal is almost gone,” John said as he nursed the balloon higher. “Any ideas?”

  “Park it and catch a cab?” asked Rocky.

  Bill shrugged and said, “Risky. This time of the night there are few cabs
about and even less in this storm.” He looked at Rocky and said, “Wait a minute. This is 1854 and most of the homes are heated by coal, right?”

  “Yeah,” answered Rocky and John.

  “So why not try and buy some from a home?”

  “Or,” added Rocky, “from a hospital! I say we land on the roof of Brooklyn City Hospital and go down to their basement and borrow some coal.”

  “Why not?” said John. “No reason for the cops to be there.”

  “Let’s go for it then,” said Bill.

  They drifted along until they saw the hospital, which at three floors high was one of the tallest buildings of the time. “Here goes,” said John as he added the last of their coal to the fire and dropped another sand bag. The balloon started to climb and the balloonist dumped the hot air just as they were about to pass the building. The basket cleared the lip that surrounded the flat roof and gently plowed into the soft snow before coming to rest as the empty balloon gently flopped around in the wind.

  “Sure glad there are no cell phone towers around yet,” quipped John.

  The horses pulling the police vans were exhausted. Besides the deep snow they had to run most of the time.

  “Can’t we go any faster?” asked Lieutenant Doyle with a snarl on his face.

  “Sir, the horse is exhausted! What good would it do if he collapses? Besides we’re almost back at the precinct.”

  Doyle was sitting inside behind the driver with his back resting on the wall of the van. The snow entered the van along with the cold wind and the policemen inside tried stuffing newspapers in the hole in the roof but were overruled by the lieutenant as he said he needed to be able to shoot at the balloon when they spotted it again. The other cops were happy that the chase was almost over and just wanted to get inside the precinct and warm up.

  The streets of Brooklyn were deserted as the snow piled higher and Lieutenant Doyle knew the chase was over. The men that could have allowed him to retire a wealthy man had gotten away with his diamonds. His head was back resting on the plywood wall of the cold van and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment. He opened them and suddenly the opening in the roof was like a picture frame that displayed the balloon he was searching for. He looked again and it was gone.

  “Stop! Stop!” he shouted. The men inside were startled as they suddenly slid down the bench seat as the driver slammed on the brake and reigned in the horse.

  Doyle put his head out of the small window behind the driver and pointed up just as the balloon disappeared over the roof of the hospital two blocks away. “Brooklyn City Hospital! Quick! They are landing on the roof of the hospital. Get this nag running!”

  The driver slapped the reigns on the horse’s rump and after three steps the horse slipped and stayed down.

  Doyle recoiled as the driver turned and put his blue-from-the cold face in his, “He’s exhausted, Lieutenant. And I won’t allow him to be mistreated. If you want to go further, go on foot while I tend to him.”

  “I will.” He turned to the men and shouted, “Come on you lazy excuse for police officers, follow me. That’s an order.” He stepped out and turned to go to the other van and saw that it was gone. The policemen in the other van thought the chase was over and went on to the police stables.

  He turned and slipped in the snow and the men had to hold back a laugh. He struggled to get up and finally did and started to trudge through the shin deep wet snow. The thing that kept him going was the diamonds that he considered his.

  “How do we get to the basement?” asked John as he climbed out of the basket.

  Rocky climbed out as did Bill. Rocky answered as he rubbed his hands together, “Simple. Every building needs an entrance to their roof for maintenance. We find the door and take the stairs all the way down to the basement. The elevator isn’t invented until 1860 and everyone used the stairs so if we bump into any of the hospital staff we look like we are just going from one floor to another. Once we are at the first floor we need to be careful as no visitor would need to go to the basement.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Bill. “John, I suggest you stay here with Matt and we’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  “Sir,” said Matt still inside the basket, “I beg you to let John go with you as there is safety in numbers and I shall be fine right here.”

  “Makes sense,” said John.

  “Okay. Let’s do this fast.”

  The door was found and Rocky was glad that he kept the butter knife Mary had given him. He easily slipped the thin blade between the tongue of the lock and the steel opening and pushed gently. “Ta-Da,” he said as he pulled open the door.

  “An easier time,” said John as they followed Rocky inside. The three time travelers walked lightly down the gas light lit stairs and came to a landing with a large 3 painted on the wall. There was another hand painted sign that read EXIT with an arrow that pointed down the stairway. The second landing showed a large 2 with an exit sign pointing down and finally at the first floor a young man dressed in white and carrying a bedpan opened the door marked ‘1’ and EXIT.

  “Good evening gentlemen,” he said as he went up the stairs.

  “Good evening to you, sir,” answered Rocky as he opened the door to the first floor as though they were heading towards the exit. As the man disappeared on the second landing Rocky gently tried the door to the basement, which opened easily.

  Guided down the stairs by more gas lamps the three soon stood in the basement. Knowing that a coal company delivered coal by putting a steel slide through an open window of the basement of the building they were delivering to, the three men split up and followed the wall around the basement. The place was huge with all sorts of machinery, storage bins, extra beds, wheel chairs and other medical paraphernalia.

  Finally John called out, “Here. I found it.”

  The three men stood in front of a large wooden coal bin that was unlocked. Inside were stacked twenty-pound bags of coal.

  Lieutenant Doyle entered the hospital and immediately knew that he was scaring people as they quickly moved away from him. His shoes, socks and pants were soaking wet as was the bottom of his coat and he had ice in his mustache and eyebrows. Panting he went to the admitting desk and said, “Police business. How do I get to the roof?”

  A thin elderly woman looked at him through her nose-mounted glasses with distain and said as she went back to her paperwork, “I have no idea, sir. Please remove yourself from my desk as sick people need my attention.”

  The policeman was furious at her lack of respect and he took out his badge. “I’m with the police,” he said as he held his badge in front of her.

  “Why didn’t you show me your badge in the first place?”

  “Never mind! Now how do you get to the roof?”

  She shrugged and went back to her paperwork as she replied, “As I said, I don’t know.”

  Now the other policemen entered the front door and Doyle thought, I better make sure that these guys aren’t around when I shoot those guys. Especially when I take the diamonds. They might want a cut like that stupid doctor at Brooklyn Mental.

  “Guys,” he called out, “go outside and cover the exits. I’ll flush them out so you can make the collar.”

  The men’s faces said it all as they headed back out into the cold.

  The door to the staircase opened and the young man carrying a full bedpan came out. As he walked past Doyle, the policeman asked, “Hey! Police business. Do you know how to get to the roof?”

  “Sure,” he answered as he tilted his head towards the door he just came out of, “Just go up the stairs in that stairway and after the third floor you’ll see the door to the roof.” The young man was surprised at how fast the rotund policeman ran toward the door. He knew there was real trouble as he saw the man draw his service revolver before slowly opening the door.

  “Well, I’m not making any more trips up those stairs on this shift.”

  Lieutenant Doyle was shaking with a mixture of being co
ld and knowing that he was about to finish off those guys with his diamonds. This needs to be done fast, Doyle, he thought as he cocked his gun. I don’t want any of those cops seeing me shoot them with their hands up. It has to look like they were trying to run off.

  He went up the stairs, his wet shoes squishing with each step. Finally at the top, rather than throwing the door open he decided to take the cautious approach and open it slowly. He opened it an inch at a time and was rewarded with the sight of the balloon gently flopping around the basket. He moved like a cat and in a moment stood pointing his gun at an inert figure wrapped in a blanket.

  “Get up!” He pushed his gun against Matt. “Get up!” He pulled the blanket off and saw the man who was paralyzed in Brooklyn Mental. Oh, he thought as he stared down at Matt lying stiffly on the floor of the basket. It’s that guy from the doctor’s place. Well his friends can’t be far. He climbed in the basket, Might as well stay out of the wind, he thought as he faced the door to the roof.

  Rocky spotted them first. “Hey guys,” he said pointing to the wet footprints on the stairs, “Looks like we have company on the roof.”

  “Naw,” said John, “Those are ours from when we came down from the roof.”

  “Rocky is right,” said Bill as the three men stopped to look at the wet footprints. “Ours are the ones going down, this set is from someone going up. We’ve got company waiting for us on the roof and I’ll bet anything it’s that creepy Lieutenant Doyle.”

  Even though Lieutenant Doyle took the blanket from Matt he was freezing. He kept an eye on the door as he kept switching hands with the cold gun and put the other hand in his pocket. Suddenly the door flew open but nobody came out.

  He waited quietly and a voice came from the doorway, “Hello out there. We have a deal for you. Ready to hear it?”

  Doyle thought one moment then answered, “What sort of a deal could you make with the police?”