Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

Simon and arched a thinly plucked eyebrow, before turning back to Elizabeth. “There’s a chalk board over on Fourth and Broadway. Lists all sorts of jobs, but I don’t think they’re exactly your type.”
    Elizabeth grinned. “You never know. Thanks.”
    The waitress snapped her gum and ripped their bill off her pad. “Good luck, honey.”
    Elizabeth smiled triumphantly. “That wasn’t so hard. Library, job boards. Looks like it’s going to be a busy day,” she said and dug into her food with relish. “Better eat yours before it gets cold.”
    Simon poked a fork into his runny eggs. Busy indeed.
    * * *
    Elizabeth had never ridden a subway before. The cars bumped along, jigging from side to side, as they clattered through the dark tunnels. She felt like a native, bouncing in her seat like the rest of the passengers. If they only knew.
    The train’s brakes squealed as it ground to a halt at the 42nd Street station. She and Simon fell in with the press of people hurrying out the doors and up the steps. She could see the library looming down the block.
    It was enormous and oddly comforting. Inside, it looked like every other public library in a big city. Same vaulting architecture and marble floors. It felt like a little bit of home.
    They found a book on eclipses easily and settled into one of the long tables in the main reference hall. Elizabeth watched Simon skim through the pages until he hit the one they’d been searching for. His face was unreadable as he closed the book.
    “Well?” Elizabeth prompted. “You going to tell me or what?”
    “It could have been worse.”
    It was an annoying habit of his, withholding information just for the privilege of watching someone squirm in anticipation. “And?”
    “The next lunar eclipse will occur September 3rd of this year.”
    “Six weeks?”
    “So it would seem,” he said.
    September third. That was a month and a half before the stock market crash. She hated to admit it, but Simon was right—they should limit their involvement in the culture. She’d read enough science fiction to know that, but it was so tempting. To be able to avert one of the darkest periods in American history. Not that she really could. What was she going to do? Walk the streets wearing a sandwich board that said, “Sell your stocks! Black Tuesday approaches!” They’d lock her up and throw away the key. Still, it was an enticing idea. But there were definitely more pressing matters to think about. Six weeks was a long time. And even then, there was no guarantee the watch would work. They might be trapped there forever.
    “Are you all right, Miss West?”
    “Just thinking.”
    “Indeed,” he said with a sigh. “Since we seem to be stuck here for an extended period, I suppose we should look into employment.”
    The way he said employment nearly made her laugh, as if he were being asked to live in a basket of snakes. Her own fears about what may or may not come fell away. Why was it facing adversity was easier when someone else needed you? “It’s not that bad.”
    “You almost sound as though you’re pleased with this turn of events.”
    “Like you said, it could have been worse. Now that we know, it’s not so bad really. It’s kind of an adventure.”
    He frowned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Your definition of adventure is deeply skewed.”
    * * *
    After they’d finished at the library, they started back to lower Manhattan. Fifth Avenue was a far cry from their neighborhood, at least the little she’d seen. Huge buildings stretched toward the sky, except for one huge hole in the ground. A large, elaborate sign stood at the rim—“Future Site of the Empire State Building - Starrett Bros. & Eken”. The Empire State Building, something that seemed so old in her mind, hadn’t even been built yet.
    Everything about the city seemed about to happen. As if every person, every thing were on the verge of something better. She always thought New York would feel oppressive, impersonal, but it was just the opposite. Energizing and inspiring, where the only limit was your own imagination.
    Reality, however, came back with a swift vengeance when they reached the job boards on Broadway. Most of the offerings had already been erased, leaving only dishwashing for fifty cents a day. So much for getting a job easily.
    But, as she always told herself back home, if you can’t make money, spend money. Simon had balked at first, until she pointed out that he could