Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

on his face, he wasn’t. “And you?”
    Elizabeth knew better than to push him. “My butt’s seen better days,” she said, rubbing the spot where she’d landed.
    Simon started to laugh, but the movement was too painful. He sufficed with a weak smile and a touch of her cheek.
    She wrinkled her nose. “You reek.”
    His tuxedo, what was left of it, was soaked with alcohol. He tried vainly to straighten the hem of his jacket, running his hands over the sopping material. When they hit the bulge in his pocket, he cursed under his breath.
    Elizabeth’s brow furrowed with worry. “What is it?”
    “The watch,” he said and pulled the gold chain from his pocket. If the watch was damaged, there would be no way for them to return home.
    He opened the clasp and they both sighed in relief. It was undamaged.
    Neither of them saw the older gentleman with the thatch of white hair watching them, his eyes growing round with shocked recognition at the sight of the watch. Stuffing his small notebook into his breast pocket, he quickly joined the throng headed for the door.

Chapter Twenty Five
    T he storm that refused to break held true to form and hovered northeast of the island. The heavy cloud cover kept in the heat like the lid on a boiling pot. Finally, the next day, the clouds broke and the sun triumphantly poked through. Simon had insisted they stay in as much as possible to lessen their exposure to King and his men, but Elizabeth was going stir crazy inside their little apartment. Eventually, she managed to cajole Simon into taking a walk to break the monotony.
    They took the subway up to Fifth Avenue and the Vanderbilt gate entrance to Central Park. The plush green setting was an oasis in the cement jungle of the city. One step across the threshold and the dull grays and browns, the sooty air, and screaming of car horns faded away.
    Brilliant sun glittered off the glass panes of the Conservatory as they walked deeper into the park. The shores of the great reservoir stretched out in front of them. They walked along in peaceful silence under the shade of a grove of trees circling the perimeter. The paths diverged and meandered, but Elizabeth’s step didn’t falter; she knew exactly where she was going and Simon was content to follow.
    They crested the top of a small hill and Elizabeth stopped. “This is what I wanted to show you,” she said, pointing across the velvety grass.
    Standing on a slight knoll in the distance was a castle. The design was simple, but the effect was magical.
    “Belvedere Castle,” she said. “Is that cool or what?”
    “How did you know this was here?”
    “When things were...well, you know. After Coney Island when I went for walks to think, I found it. Thought I was seeing things at first. Not exactly what you expect to find in the middle of New York City, but there it was. It seemed like a peaceful place.”
    Simon took her hand in his. “I’m sorry.”
    She smiled and shook her head, then looked back at the castle. “It’s hollow inside, you know? No guts, just an empty façade. At the time I thought it was pretty darn ironic, but... I kept coming here anyway, to think.”
    “I don’t suppose I was exactly your knight in shining armor at that point.”
    “More like the village idiot.”
    He chuckled softly. “Well deserved.”
    “If the big, pointy shoe fits,” she said with a grin and turned to look at him. His chin was bruised and his green eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. “You were pretty knightly last night, being all chivalrous and coming to my rescue.”
    “I’m glad you think so,” he said and started them down the path. “Although, if I remember correctly, you held your own rather well. Where did you learn to fight like that, or am I better off in ignorance?”
    “Daddy. Thought it was a good idea for me to learn a little self defense. What about you?”
    “Boarding school. My first year I learned how to take a punch. My second, how to give one.”
    “And your third?”
    “That it’s better to avoid them altogether.”
    “Very sage for a teenager.”
    “Well, I am British.”
    Elizabeth smiled and pulled them toward the shade of a small grove of trees. The grass was thick and lush and she started to ease off her shoes. “Do you miss it?”
    “Boarding school? Hardly.”
    “No, England.”
    “I...what are you doing?” he asked, as she steadied herself and tossed her shoes aside.
    She let go and lifted up the hem of her dress and undid her