Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

research has generated absolutely nothing in the way of leads. We have little choice but to trust the watch will do what we think it will,” he said as he slipped it inside his jacket pocket. “If not, we’re on our own, I’m afraid.”
    Their little adventure suddenly took on an epic scope, and she felt a yawning abyss of uncertainty opening at her feet. A few days, weeks even, she could handle. That was manageable. The idea that they might never return was unnerving, to say the least.
    “It’ll work,” she said.
    If Simon saw through her bluff, he didn’t show it. “And since we are here,” she continued. “We might as well make the best of it. Starting today.”
    “Well,” Simon said, picking up the paper. “We could go to a movie, I suppose.”
    Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise.
    The corners of his mouth twitched and he added, “Yes, I do go to the movies on occasion.”
    She grinned and tried to picture him with a bucket of popcorn and a thirty ounce soda. Somehow, the image wouldn’t gel. “That would be fun, I guess,” she said with calculated indifference.
    He set down the paper and eyed her suspiciously. “But?”
    She leaned forward and hunched her shoulders with barely contained excitement. “We’re in 1929. Think of all the things we could see. A movie would be interesting, but what about... I don’t know, the Ziegfeld Follies, or is Houdini alive? Wouldn’t that be amazing? What about the Hippodrome? Wait a minute, that’s not here anymore more, is it? I can’t remember. But there are tons of things. Like...”
    “Yes?”
    “Coney Island!” She loved amusement parks, and a chance to see Coney Island as it was meant to be was thrilling. “Wouldn’t it be fascinating to see it in its heyday. You know, before it got all kitschy and gross.”
    “I’m not sure I’m—”
    “This is living history. How many people get a chance to see that?”
    “Be that as it may—”
    “Haven’t you always wanted to go to Coney Island?”
    “I think I can safely answer that with a resounding no.”
    “Oh, come on,” she said. “It’s too good to pass up. And it’ll be fun. Roller coasters, strange freaky side show things.”
    “As appealing as that sounds, which by the way, is not at all, I don’t—”
    “Okay. You don’t have to go,” she said quickly.
    “Thank you.” He watched her for a moment, then picked up the paper again. “I understand there are free concerts in Central Park.”
    “I’m sure you’ll have a good time, but I’m going to Coney Island.”
    “Elizabeth,” he ground out.
    “Simon,” she mimicked. “Really, you don’t have to go,” she said, as she coyly played with the collar of her dress. ”I think it would be fun and educational. A double whammy. But, if you want to mope, I mean, stay around here, you’re perfectly welcome to.”
    Simon put the paper down and sighed. “I’m not really the amusement park type.”
    “You didn’t strike me as the piano player in a speakeasy type either, but...” she said with what she hoped was a dangerously engaging smile.
    “Lord help me.”
    * * *
    The early afternoon train was packed with people heading out to the island. Back to front, side to side, two to a seat, people crowded into the subways and the elevated train to Brooklyn. The crowd jostled with every bump and turn as the train moved steadily toward the Nickel Empire, where five cents bought everything from a red-hot to a turn at the Tilt-A-Whirl.
    Simon gripped the overhead handhold, and Elizabeth gripped Simon. Unable to reach a pole or a hand grip, she’d tried standing on her own for the first few minutes. The shimmying of the car nearly knocked her off her feet and would have if Simon hadn’t caught her. She smiled bashfully and wound her fingers into the fabric of his jacket. He kept an arm loosely around her waist.
    She looked up at him with a questioning glance.
    He looked away shyly and then lifted his chin in poor imitation of indignation. “Purely for safety reasons.”
    Elizabeth slipped her hand onto his shoulder. “Safety first, I always say.”
    The car was stifling, or would have been if either had been paying the least bit of attention to anything but the other. The tiny windows let in only the barest warm breeze, and the mass of bodies filled the car with an unrelenting heat.
    Elizabeth felt a single drip of sweat inch down her back with torturous slowness. It started to tickle, and she arched her back to help