Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

sad mixture of lost hope and second-hand dreams. The owner stood behind the glass-cased counter and looked up sharply when the bell at the top of the door announced their arrival.
    He was a tall, thin man with dark eyes that seemed unnaturally large behind the thick lenses of his glasses. Elizabeth shuddered. He looked like the proverbial spider, and she felt like the unwitting fly.
    “Why don’t you see what you can get for the ring and I’ll try to find some clothes,” Elizabeth said. She tried to shake the feeling she was being sized up for something unpleasant and browsed the shop’s wares.
    His large bug eyes followed her as she looked at the merchandise—clothes, jewelry and the inevitable saxophone. Why was it every pawn shop seemed to have a tarnished sax hanging in one corner? A bit of someone’s soul dangling by a thin cord. A piece of someone’s heart taken in trade. She’d left a few chapters of her life behind in glass cases.
    She noticed Simon hadn’t started haggling and nodded her head toward the counter to prod him along. She thought about doing it herself. Simon was clearly out of his element. But could a woman in the 1920’s get the same price as a man? Hell, they couldn’t even in the next century. Some things were slow to change. She reminded herself to try to check her impulses. A headstrong woman in this time would be as welcome as a skunk at a lawn party, and they couldn’t afford to stick out at all. She spied a rack of second-hand dresses in the back and went to find something suitable.
    Simon watched her disappear into the back of the store and then turned his attention to the owner.
    The man wasted no time appraising Simon, and a thin smile stretched his pinched mouth. “Name’s Smitty. What do you have for me today?”
    Simon didn’t have much experience in bargaining, but he knew a shark when he saw one. He took the ring out of his pocket but didn’t hand it over just yet. “A family heirloom. It’s quite valuable.”
    Smitty’s lips quivered in anticipation. “Of course.” He held out his bony hand.
    Simon hesitated, looking at the man’s black, smudged fingers. He had little choice though, and set the ring on the counter. He loathed the idea of pawning it. Even though the ring brought with it painful memories, they were the last he had of his grandfather. The watch and the ring had come to symbolize those final moments—frightening and confusing, but all he had left.
    Elizabeth poked her head around the corner and held out a pale, floral print dress. “Is there somewhere I can try this on?”
    “There’s a partition screen in the back,” Smitty said, as he stopped examining the ring and leaned over the counter to stare at Elizabeth.
    She came around the corner and put the dress on the counter. As she started to pull the sweater over her head, Simon gave in to the ridiculous urge to block Smitty’s view. Not that she was undressing, but there was something sensual about the way she moved, the way her hair fell across her shoulders.
    She smiled and handed Simon his sweater. “Thanks for the loan.”
    He watched Elizabeth walk to the back of the store and then turned to Smitty, whose leer slid effortlessly into an oily smile.
    “Mr. Smith,” Simon bit out. “If you don’t mind...”
    Smitty’s lips tightened, his mouth looking like a gash cut into the middle of his face. Simon clenched his jaw. He couldn’t afford to say the things he wanted to. Not now, when they needed money so badly. The sooner they finished their business here the better. “The ring,” he said tightly.
    “Of course,” Smitty said and examined the small scarab. He turned it over in his hands and looked at the setting closely. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
    “We’re new in town,” Simon said. Now he was going to be forced to make small talk with this creature.
    “Where ya staying?”
    Simon hesitated. “We haven’t settled in quite yet.”
    Smitty looked up from examining the scarab. “You on the lam?”
    “Of course not,” Simon said and racked his brain for viable story. “We just got off the train and... I really don’t see how it’s any of your affair.”
    “You’re a little jumpy aren’t ya? No luggage, odd clothing. If this ring’s hot it’ll affect the price.”
    “Now, see here—”
    “You wouldn’t be the first.”
    Simon’s patience was wearing thin. “We are not on the run.”
    “No?” He glanced down at Simon’s hand and saw he