Sidewalks of New York

After seeing Althea back to her aunt's home in New Rochelle, Tony returned to his apartment, a room over a cigar store on Mulberry Street that Tic-Toc had provided. It was modest, but serviceable. "Hi, Giuseppe!" He greeted the organ grinder in front of the building, "Hello Florence" he greeted his monkey as he handed her a penny she dropped in her owner's cup.

General Kirk had allowed Dr. Burkhart to continue his medical practice in 1805. Tony wondered if he could get a similar deal, if he wanted one. Maybe things wouldn't work out with Althea anyway. They were fond of each other and shared several interests, but they were born half a century apart on different sides of the world. She didn't like baseball and couldn't match his interest in scientific theory; he had little patience for the classical arts like ballet and Shakespeare, but was pleasantly surprised by her ability to play ragtime one evening when she pounded out Maple Leaf Rag on her aunt's upright.

"Happy Birthday!" a familiar voice called from behind, as he was about to enter.

"What?" He asked, greeting his colleague, Dr. Doug Phillips wearing his old wool suit. Doug smiled, handing him a box.

Tony had forgotten, he was born in September, but due to leaving his time in May, and arriving here in June, he wouldn't be a full year older until October. He opened the package, finding rows of cylinder records.

"Bill Haley and the Comets, converted to plastic cylinder," Doug informed him. "Also some Andy Williams and Petula Clark; that was Ann's idea."

Tony had stopped keeping up with popular music early in the Kennedy administration. He had missed most of the 1960s; having started working on The Time Tunnel and living on-site in 1961.

"Thanks, is that the reason you're here?"

"And to retrieve a few things from the field office," referring to Tony's apartment.

Among those things was a film reel Tony obtained marked "Saved from The Titanic" A one-reel Dorothy Gibson film that had been rushed into production, and would otherwise be lost in a 1914 studio fire.

"It's not The Ten Commandments," Tony critiqued.

"It's important to somebody," Doug assured him.

Tony gave him a folder containing various requested notes, photos, and blueprints he'd gathered.

"How are things going between you and Miss Hall?"

"Fine, just fine. We're going to a Halloween masquerade party if you can make it. Apple-bobbing, nut-roasting, pumpkins, that sort of thing."

Doug laughed, "No volcanoes, alien invasions, or barbarians at the gate? Oh, Tony, life's getting soft."

"There is one more thing," Doug added, "a bracelet on loan to the American Museum of Natural History is going to go missing in transit after the staff removes the Egyptology display. Lost, stolen… We need to recover it."

"I have to live here, I can't go breaking into museums."

"We've got a man on the inside, " Doug informed him.

"What do I need to do?"

"Probably nothing, just letting you know in case he needs any assistance."

"You think all this nonsense will wear out?" Tony reminded him of his words concerning Princess Sarit. "You're the one who said not to get involved and think of everyone as if they were already dead."

"You live where you get your mail," Doug compromised. "I'm rooting for you."

Tony thought of what Althea had asked earlier about where to set up housekeeping, 1912 or 1970. After seeing what was going on in the cities back home, he wouldn't want to transplant an Edwardian schoolteacher to that kind of scene.