In which our protagonist and her beloved travel to the Roaring Twenties to indulge in all the frivolous amusements of New York City, smug and carefree that their historical knowledge will make their plans foolproof. But even hindsight isn't 20/20, and impulsive decisions are made that will change the course of their lives.
Amelia and the Bee's Knees
Chapter One
Bleeep. Bleeep.
Amelia woke to the sounds of honking. She rubbed her eyes against the sunlight streaming in the window, and, for a second, tried to remember when she was. It was an occupational hazard as a time traveller. Oh, yes, New York City. The top of her mouth felt like dry cloth and she ran her tongue along it. Oh, yes, the speakeasy last night. Cooper was right, perhaps she shouldn't have drunk there -
Cooper!
She rolled over quickly and brushed her hand over the empty pillow. He was gone. What time was it? Shouldn't he have woke her? Amelia reached up to rub her head. Her brain felt thick and foggy. Was it the alcohol? Then it all came back to her. It was a memory of adrenaline, the pounding tension of fear. Just thinking about Cooper being lost to time, just recalling the events of the previous night made her heart start to race again. She put her hand over chest.
No. She wouldn't think about it. She would get up and she would spend her day alone in New York City. Cooper had given her instructions, and Amelia would follow through and she wouldn't think about why she was alone. She would make him proud by standing up straight and moving on, just the way he loved her. She had never been afraid in a new time before, and today didn't seem like the day to start.
Shaking the cobwebs away, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom to pour herself a glass of cold water in a cut crystal highball glass. She padded through their hotel suite, all sleek emerald greens and white and blacks and golds, in her appropriately emerald-green kimono pajamas to stand on the balcony and overlook Central Park. It was a beautiful, crisp autumn morning. Not cold yet, just a chill in the wind, especially this high up. She had never enjoyed autumn, mostly because of the amount of work at harvest and the portent of winter, but New York City reveled in autumn. The park spread out below her, a sea of golds and yellows and reds. All the trees had seemed to turn just this week.
Of all the places she had been, this time and place had quickly become her favorite during the past week. It was so radically different than the prairie where she first met Cooper; it was exuberance and the prairie was tranquility. It was that difference that made it perfect for their anniversary outing: a reminder of how far they'd come together, both literally and figuratively. And through the magic of time travel the prairie was always there. For her birthday, they had gone to Kansas in 1400 for the perfect day. They picnicked outside the time machine on the pizza they'd brought with them, watched a herd of buffalo on the move from a distance, made love and then took a nap in the spring wildflowers.
There had been other times: Pisa with Galileo Galilei, Newport with Edith Wharton, and, of course, 1880s England with H.G. Wells. Cooper's plan had worked perfectly; Mr. Wells was more than happy to post Amelia's letters to Kansas and hold the ones he received for her. He seemed eager to perform this odd task for the eccentric nomadic couple, because evenings spent by the fire in conversation with them led him to stay up most the night scribbling strange ideas on paper. Cooper had informed him he was a scientist and inventor, slyly letting slip just a few choice phrases and details. Nothing was more enchanting to Amelia: strong, sure Cooper blending in, postulating in a falsely casual way on the existence of chronic argonauts to the young teacher, his eyes dancing with delight as they flicked to Amelia's.
Cooper. Cooper wasn't here and she was alone, the day and the city yawning before her. He had known she could do this alone, he didn't doubt her at all. He would be disappointed if he ever knew she puttered around the hotel room all day or sobbed in bed, feeling sorry for herself.
To think that yesterday evening her biggest disappointment was not being including in Cooper's planned meeting at the Hotel New York with Tesla because of sexism. "It's not fair you get to meet all the famous people just because you're a man."
"I know," Cooper had said last night, adjusting his tie. "I'm sorry. But try to enjoy your day. Go for a walk in the park. Go buy that first edition of Agatha Christie's new book for your collection. Go to Tiffany's, buy something."
"Cooper! You're just as bad as all those other men!" She had huffed, pulling her glove up above her elbow. "You cannot just silence a woman with jewelry!"
"I wouldn't dream of it. But," he patted down his hair in the mirror once more, "you love shiny things. You even let Penelope pierce your ears so you could wear more shiny things. I wouldn't be surprised if you came home with a tiara and claimed to be a princess. Anyway, I anticipate, given the date, that we'll be discussing his plans for the VTOL aircraft, which you'd have no interest in."
Amelia grunted. It pained her to admit it, but he was right. The last place she wanted to be was in a stuffy hotel room with a bitter and possibly anti-social man discussing engineering when all of New York City was at her feet. But it was still the principle that rankled her.
"Come on, my little bear cat. No pouting. It's our anniversary and we're going out!" He'd wrapped his long arms around her beaded dress, careful not to mess up the headband she was wearing. "Let's get our wiggle on and head out for the juice joint!"
Surprised, Amelia laughed at his overuse of period slang and eagerly left with him, his new pinstripe suit looking especially alluring across his broad shoulders. To think he hadn't wanted to go, yet there he was, going to commit a crime with her that he had tried and failed to talk her out of. Even now, standing on the balcony in her pajamas, her glass of water drained, she couldn't help but smile sadly despite how it had all turned out.
Before it could turn into a frown or regrets started to form, she went back inside to escape the chill seeping through her, ordered a room service breakfast, and started the taps to take a hot bath.
One of the most magical things about time travel - and there were so many - was hindsight. With relative ease, Amelia and Cooper could look up almost anything they wanted to know about a certain location and date before they ever left. Definitive facts, not just impressions or subjective descriptions. Weather reports were especially helpful.
This week of celebration had been planned not only because it was autumn secondary to Amelia's preference to not travel out of season, but also for the weather. Leaving the morning after their own, modern Halloween celebrations, they had arrived at the end of a brief heat wave, summer temperatures despite the turning leaves around them. This allowed them to enjoy both a bit of New York City summer and autumn. "Two seasons for the price of one!" Cooper had enthused.
First, though, there was the always anxiety inducing first day. Would the carefully studied historic maps of Grand Central Station be correct, so the time machine would land in an unused and forgotten room? Would the chocolate settle their stomachs? Would their costumes be period appropriate so that they wouldn't stand out too much but simple enough that the need to buy a whole new expensive wardrobe would seem rational to the sales clerks? Most stressful of all, would their counterfeit money be accepted and would their story about just striking it rich on the stock market be accepted? They went straight to Bergdorf's, where they separated to be measured and tempted and pampered, Amelia by dresses in beautiful, rich autumnal colors. She felt like Daisy in The Great Gatsby, throwing all those silk shirts in the air and crying at their beauty.
Leaving in her new dress and cloche, Amelia hooked her arm through Cooper's elbow and sashayed down the side walk with him toward the hotel they had decided upon. She laughed at the bleating honks of the old fashioned cars and marveled at the bustling, busy streets. Modern Los Angles was busy too, but not with this level of immediacy. Every one in L.A. wanted to be alone, sealed-off in their cars or staring at their screens even the bus. Here, the city felt like one great moving organism.
The penthouse suite was available just as they knew it would be, and they could barely get the bellhop to leave fast enough before their new clothes were tossed aside and they took each took each other on that black lacquered bed.
"Are you happy?" Cooper asked panting afterwards, curling his naked form around her.
"Yes. It's the cat's pajamas!"
He chuckled into her ear. "We really need to get up and get dressed before those packages arrive from Bergdorf's."
"Mmmm," Amelia said, "I guess you're correct. A bath?"
Sitting upright, Cooper smiled. "Well, it wouldn't be one of our adventures if we didn't end up naked in a pool of water. And, no! -" he added in a rush, holding up a finger "- I still refuse to jump into the fountain at Union Square." He took a deep breath. "I'm famished. Room service?"
"Oh, yes!" She started to get up herself, watching Cooper button his crisp white shirt again.
"Get me whatever you're having," Amelia said as she walked into the bathroom. She had just slipped into the bathtub when she heard the suite door open and a good deal of commotion. Cooper popped his head around the door. "The packages just arrived. I told them to deliver our food in a half hour."
"Good." Amelia leaned her head back against the edge of the claw-foot tub and watched Cooper undress before he slid into the end opposite her. He reached down to pick up her foot and massage it and she smiled. Ah, he was going to soap her up first this time.
Later, they sat at their little room service table in the plush hotel robes and hungrily ate their dinner. "I've never had a fried egg sandwich before," Amelia said.
"I asked the desk clerk to send up two of his favorites. But I'm not sure about this. You know I don't like breakfast foods for dinner," he said, picking up a piece of bacon and putting it down again with a shake of his head. "It's disorganized."
"I think it's decedent. And the whole point of this week is to be decedent."
He smiled over at her. "You're right." He leaned closer and kissed her with warm eggy lips. "Do you want to be decadent again?"
Amelia giggled and let herself be led to bed once more.
The next morning, she yawned and stretched. The sun was streaming in, and she looked over at her still-sleeping husband. It seemed impossible that a year ago she was on the prairie, only knowing one life and two possible outcomes: marriage to a local farmer or ending up a spinster, maybe a teacher in the same one-room schoolhouse she had attended. But this handsome man had opened up her world and her life to an existence she didn't know was possible. Moved by her love for him, she reached over to brush her fingertips through his peaked bed hair.
"Mmmm," he stirred and woke.
"Good morning, my time traveling physicist," she purred.
"Amelia Shelton, are you trying to seduce me?" he asked.
"Trying?" she asked, widening her eyes. She reached her free hand further down the bed. "Feels like succeeding to me."
"Does it?" Cooper said, using his superior body strength to flop her on her back.
Laughing Amelia wove her arms around his neck, letting him silence her with a kiss, spreading her legs for him - "Wait." She squirmed.
"What?" Cooper asked, raising up on his arms, his face concerned.
"Something is different." She wiggled a bit in bed. "I'm sorry, get up. I need to go to the bathroom."
Cooper rolled off of her as she ducked into the adjoining room. A few minutes later, she emerged with a frown. "We have a problem."
"Are you unwell?" Cooper asked in a rush, lowering the newspaper he was reading.
"I'm alright. It's just that . . . my birth control ring is broken. I had to take it out, it was poking me."
"What?" Cooper lurched forward in bed, but Amelia waved him back, coming to sit next to him. "Did it injure you?"
"No, but I don't think I should wear it anymore."
"I agree." He frowned. "What do you think happened? A manufacturing defect? Surely not the stresses of time travel because our bodies are undamaged."
"I don't know." Amelia shook her head. "I'm sorry." It was such a mystery to her as the ring form of birth control had worked so well for them in the past; effective, well hidden from history, and easy to tuck an extra one into a hidden pocket in case timing was such she needed to replace it on their journeys. But the need shouldn't have happened here and there was no back-up.
"Why are you sorry? It's not your fault. I wonder if I should have noticed it last night, but everything felt normal." He shrugged in a defeated manner.
"It's just that we haven't even been here twenty-four hours yet . . ."
"Oh, Amelia," he said and pulled her closer to him. "Believe me, if I could contain myself that first time in your log cabin, I can contain myself here."
"Who said it was your willpower I was worried about?" She heard Cooper's soft but catchy laugh in her hair and smiled. "It doesn't matter. We have all week to explore this vibrant and beautiful city and we have each other, and that's all I really want."
"Coney Island today!" Cooper said, and Amelia knew it was because it was one of the things to which she was most looking forward. "Room service again?"
Nodding, Amelia pulled the sheet up over herself and watched as Cooper picked up the old-fashioned phone and ordered omelettes and fresh fruit. "But absolutely no avocados," he instructed. A pause. "They're a green tree fruit with a creamy sort of texture - Nevermind. Just berries or melons, please."
Amelia welcomed him back next to her with a chuckle. "There's a shower head here. Do you want the bathroom first?"
"We have some time," Cooper replied, pulling her in close.
Cuddling, Amelia closed her eyes. She opened them again when she had a sudden idea. "Cooper, do you think it's real?"
"What?" he asked.
"You now . . . the first twenty-four hours."
"As opposed to the placebo effect?"
"I don't know. It feels very real. I wonder if there would be a way for scientist to study it, like maybe something happens in the brain, all the chemicals I read about once," Amelia said.
"Are you sure you want to major in English? You sounded like you had an interest in neurobiology there for a second," Cooper asked. "Caltech has an excellent neurobiology department."
Shaking her head, Amelia said, "No. It was just a passing thought."
"I love your passing thoughts. And -" he added quickly "- I love the first twenty four hours, no matter what causes the uptick in our libidos. Mmmm." He started nuzzling her neck.
She pushed him away even as her body started aching for him again. "Cooper, I think you need to go take that cold shower right now as you seem to have no control over your uptick."
He groaned and rolled away from her. "I'm going," he whined and stood to walk to the bathroom. Amelia watched his beautiful and aroused body leaving her.
Flopping back again the pillow, she muttered, "Stupid birth control." Then, louder, both so Cooper could hear and to convince herself, "It could be a good thing. One thing always goes wrong, and now it has. That means everything else will go exactly according to plan."
Although it was unseasonably warm, being a weekday and so late in the season, Coney Island was not as crowded as it would have been at the height of summer. After taking the subway out, they rode all the rides, watched a man get shot out of a canon, played ring toss and all the other carnival games, and enjoyed a late lunch on the beach of hot dogs and ice cream, eating them in reverse to prevent the ice cream from melting.
"Don't you just love the ocean?" Amelia sighed. She found it hard to explain, but in some ways it reminded her of the prairie: the endless expanse, earth meeting horizon with nothing blocking one's view, the wind, the waves. Cooper had indulged her with a couple of trips to the beach in Los Angles over the summer when some of their friends went, but they both didn't like to get in the water given all the pollution. Of course, there was that day they had the beach all to themselves when they traveled back in time to visit her parents. Maybe she should suggest another trip back in time for that.
"It's fine," Cooper said, leaning back on his elbows in the sand. "But I know you love it. And this is your week."
"It's our week. Can you believe we've been married almost a year now?" Amelia mimicked his posture and then leaned back even further, so she was lying down, sweeping her hat off and setting it beside her. She shut her eyes. The sand was hot from the sun, and she felt it heating her from below as the sun warmed her from above. The skin on her bare arms was already developing a faint pinkish hue, sleeveless fashions being all the rage here.
"Yes, it's our anniversary, but you're the one who passed your GED and are starting at Caltech in January." He paused. "If you do the math of the actual number of days we've spent in each other's presence, we've known each other more than a year. Some of trips we came back the day after we left in the future, even though we were in the past longer. Just like this trip: we left early, for the weather, to a year from when we met each other but we'll be back after our wedding anniversary even though we won't be gone two weeks."
Amelia shielded her eyes from the sun as she opened them and turned her head to look at Cooper. "Do you really believe that? That's it not our real anniversary?"
Cooper sat up straighter and looked down at her. "No, of course not. That's not what I meant. I just meant time is not a fixed scale for us; it's hard, in a way, to pinpoint our exact anniversary. Is the a year from when we met? Or got married? And a year on the calendar hanging on the side of our refrigerator or when we spend 365 days in each other's presence?" He shrugged. "But I do know it's felt special for a very long time, longer than a year in some ways. I know we haven't been together for a long time, but a lot of things I never thought possible now seem possible. And not just time travel." She smiled at him, and his faced brightened and become less serious. "And now, little lady, I offer you my anniversary-whenever-that-may-be-slash-happy-GED-passing-slash-welcome-to-college present."
Quickly sitting up, Amelia said, "What do you mean? I thought this trip was our gift to each other."
"Watch." Her husband took off his straw boater hat, then his tie, and he started to unbutton his shirt. Amelia knew her brow was wrinkling in confusion, but she didn't know what to ask. "Look!" he said, opening his shirt to reveal a navy and white shirt underneath. "I bought a bathing suit. I know you're wearing one under your dress. We can wade out into the ocean together. I've been bracing myself for it for weeks."
Amelia threw her head back with a laugh. Cooper put out his hand. "Fancy a dip, my dear?"
The days of reckless abandonment continued. Cooper repeatedly surprised Amelia by agreeing to most of her suggestions with much less grumbling than she expected, even when she said she'd arranged to rent a car and drive out to Long Island and try golf.
"Golf?" he'd stammered over breakfast.
"Yes, although golf originated in Scotland, apparently it really hit its stride in terms of popularity in America in the 1920s. You know, like Jordan was a golfer in The Great Gatsby."
"I should never have encouraged you to read F. Scott Fitzgerald." Cooper shook his head. "Besides, we can't. I don't drive."
"Oh, I learned how," Amelia said as she calmly took a bite of her toast. "Penelope taught me. You just have to keep the pedals straight."
Perhaps stunned, he'd sat in the passenger seat and went out with her. Except golf turned out to be just as boring and as tedious as Cooper said it would be, and they quit after five holes. At least the car, something bright and shiny and fast, was a delight to drive even when Cooper clutched the dashboard at every turn and yelled, "Good grief, woman!"
They went to lunch in the Rose Room at the Algonquin, getting a table right next to the famed round one, listening to the great wits of the day trade barbs. There was a night out for dinner at the Oyster Bar and then going to the Ziegfeld Follies. They ate popcorn at the new Roxy Theatre movie palace while watching The Jazz Singer. She used the camera she'd bought to photograph everything, delighted that she'd actually have tangible memories to show their friends of this adventure.
Then, eating at an automat one evening, Amelia said suddenly, "Shall we go to the speakeasy tomorrow night?"
Cooper put his fork down with a clang. "Amelia, we discussed this before we came. It's illegal."
"So is counterfeiting -"
"Shhhhh!"
"- and time travel probably would be if someone realized we were doing it. Oh, and identity theft."
"Amelia!" he hissed.
"I'm just saying that we have history on our side," she leaned closer to whisper. "You know I want to go. It's the quintessential twenties experience. It's why I researched all those police records, so we could go to one that wasn't raided by the police, one that was never tied to wood alcohol."
Shaking his head, Cooper said, "The records are spotty at best and you know it."
"Well," Amelia jutted her chin out, "I'm going. I want to go dancing, and I feel my Roaring Twenties experience won't be complete if I don't. So I'm going. With or without you."
She watched her husband clench his jaw. It was a dirty trick, and she knew it. But she wanted to go, she had meticulously read all the microfiche that had been digitized, she had studied the period map of Manhattan, cross referencing it with all with reports of known passwords. What she said was true, history was on their side. They knew the future and they could use it to their advantage.
"I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" he finally said.
Amelia smiled. "No."
"Okay, fine, I'll go but only to protect you. I'm not drinking anything and you shouldn't either. You're not twenty-one yet."
"Well, here we're all on equal footing in regards to the approved drinking age, aren't we?"
He grunted in an agreement he didn't want to give.
By the next evening, though, Cooper had been almost jubilant, spouting off all his silly phrases. Amelia was too pleased to question the change. "History is on our side," he even repeated to her. The only serious moment had come when they were dressing, before he reminded her of his plans for the next day. He went to the safe in their suite and came back with the fob to the time machine and held it out to her.
"Why are you giving me that?" Amelia asked. "I thought we agreed it was secure in the safe here."
"I want you to wear it as an extra precaution."
"We don't need it."
"Yes, we do. What we are about to do is more dangerous than counterfeiting because the technologies do not exist yet to make or detect that our money isn't real. And time travel is only fantasy now, just as it is to everyone but our closest associates in the future. Those aren't real risks, but going to a speakeasy is."
"Even you just said history is on our side. We won't get caught because this speakeasy was never reported as being raided," Amelia pointed out again. "I was very thorough in my research."
Cooper shook his head. "I'm not saying you weren't. It's not your research abilities I'm doubting. Again, the records available to you weren't complete. But even if they were, please pretend it's just another piece of that jewelry you like so much. Please. If I'm going to a speakeasy, you're wearing this key."
It seemed the least she could do, seeing as how she'd manipulated him into going out with her this evening in the first place. Cooper was right, it would look just like a piece of jewelry. Rajeev had really outdone himself this time. Their friend made all the casings for the time machine keys, making each one look like period appropriate jewelry to whenever they were going. Amelia took the small glittering object and looked down at its Art Deco design, silver and fake emeralds winking back up her her. It really was stunning.
"Fine." She reached up to pin it to her velvet headband, making sure it was as secure as possible. "How does it look?"
"Like the bee's knees, sugar!" Cooper crooned and she couldn't help but laugh at him.
At the counter of the seedy hardware store, she grabbed Cooper's hand tightly as she uttered the password she had memorized, holding her breath until the clerk smiled and open the door behind him. "Right this way, folks."
Down the flight of stairs was a whole different world than the front above. Everything was just as vibrant as she imagined, the curtains around the stage fiery red, the little tables lit by the golden glow of a small lamps, the air filled with the jittery tunes of something light and bouncy. "Ohhhh," she breathed out.
They procured a table and two goblets of champagne arrived even before they'd asked for them. Cooper asked for some water also - "just plain H2O, please" - and, even if their waiter gave him a funny look, he did manage to bring back the unadulterated liquid. Amelia drank Cooper's champagne for him, ignoring his disapproving look beyond the rim of the glass.
She felt radiant and it wasn't entirely to do with the alcohol. Everything was going so well. She loved the little black beaded dress she was wearing, though she knew she didn't have the narrow hips it required. Her hair was the best it had been here, as she paid to have it coiffed at a salon instead of struggling herself with all the pins that were required to simulate one of the shorter hairstyles that were popular at this time. Even her lipstick was an especially fetching shade of red. This was everything she had wanted for their trip, a time to let loose and try new things. It was all exactly as she'd hoped, and it was all with the one she loved.
Just as she was thinking these pleasant thoughts, Cooper leaned over the table and took her hand. "Dance with me."
Laughing, she stood with her man, walking proudly as she noticed two of the flappers at other tables turn to watch her lanky and handsome husband lead her to the dance floor. She felt like that champagne, bubbly and alive.
They had so much fun, dancing the Charleston and the Fox Trot and giving the Lindy Hop a try. It was nothing like the barn dances on the prairie or the practice dances in their living room. It was delightful, laughing and dancing. And her husband was an excellent dancer, even if he gave her a stern look as she picked up another glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray and downed in one giant gulp.
"You'll regret that in the morning," he said.
"I'll regret nothing."
Softening, leaning in closer as a new slow song started, she told him over the blare of the music how much fun she'd had, how sad she was that their anniversary outing would soon be ending, how it truly had been their best travel experience with so many new things to see and do and explore, all above the safety net of their research and hindsight. All of their plans had been perfect.
Suddenly, mid-sentence, over the din of the music and the laughter and the tinkling of glasses came a different commotion: gunshots, screaming, running. "Everybody freeze! Put your hands up! This is a raid!"
Sometimes even hindsight fails.
To be continued . . .
I know some of you were hoping for a story about Amelia and Cooper meeting H.G. Wells. And it still might happen. But the great thing about time traveling stories is that I can tell them any order I want, as time is, literally, what I make of it.
Thank you in advance for your reviews!