A Traveler in Time Read online

I'vebeen waiting on you!"_

  _"Oh, the hell with it!" He turned on his heel and left the house._

  _She followed him to the door and shouted after him, "Where are yougoing now?"_

  _"To New Amsterdam for a little peace and quiet," he said testily._

  _He threw open the thick-walled door of his time-machine and pulled itshut behind him. He sat down before the controls and began to chart hiscourse for 1650. If his calculations were correct, he would shortly findhimself in the vicinity of that sturdy if autocratic first citizen ofthe Dutch colony of New Amsterdam, Peter Stuyvesant, as well as GovernorStuyvesant's friend and neighbor, Heinrich Vanderkamp. He gave not evena figurative glance over his shoulder before he started out._

  _When he emerged at last from his machine, he was in what appeared to bethe backyard of a modest residence on a street which, though he did notknow it, he suspected might be the Bouwerie. At the moment of hisemergence, a tall, angular woman stood viewing him, open-mouthed andaghast, from the wooden stoop at the back door of her home. He looked ather in astonishment himself. The resemblance to his sister Julie wasuncanny._

  _With only the slightest hesitation, he addressed her in fluent Dutch."Pray do not be disturbed, young lady."_

  _"A fine way for a gentleman to call!" she exclaimed in a voiceconsiderably more forceful than her appearance. "I suppose my fathersent you. And where did you get that outlandish costume?"_

  _"I bought it," he answered, truthfully enough._

  _"A likely tale," she said. "And if my father sent you, just go back andtell him I'm satisfied the way I am. No woman needs a man to manageher."_

  _"I don't have the honor of your father's acquaintance," he answered._

  _She gazed at him suspiciously from narrowed eyes. "Everyone in NewAmsterdam knows Henrik Van Tromp. He's as unloved as yonder bumblebee.Stand where you are and say whence you came."_

  _"I am a visitor in New Amsterdam," he said, standing obediently still."I confess I don't know my way about very well, and I chose to stop atthis attractive home."_

  _"I know it's attractive," she said tartly. "And it's plain to seeyou're a stranger here, or you'd never be wearing such clothes. Or is itthe fashion where you come from?" She gave him no opportunity to answer,but added, after a moment of indecision, "Well, you look respectableenough, though much like my rascally cousin Pieter Vanderkamp. Do youknow him?"_

  _"No."_

  _"Well, no matter. He's much older than you--near forty blessed years.You're no more than twenty, I don't doubt."_

  _Involuntarily Vanderkamp put his hand to his cheek, and smiled as hefelt its smooth roundness. "You may be right, at that," he saidcryptically._

  _"You might as well come in," she said grudgingly. "What with thetraffic on the road outside, the Indians, and people who come in suchflighty vehicles as yours, I might as well live in the heart of thecolony."_

  _He looked around. "And still," he said, "it is a pleasantspot--peaceful, comfortable. I'm sure a man could live out his days herein contentment."_

  _"Oh, could he?" she said belligerently. "And where would I be whilethis went on?"_

  _He gazed at her beetling nose, her jutting chin. "A good question," hemuttered thoughtfully._

  _He followed her into the house. It was a treasury of antiquities,filling him with delight. Miss Anna Van Tromp offered him a cup of milk,which he accepted, thanking her profusely. She talked volubly, eyeinghim all the while with the utmost curiosity, and he gathered presentlythat her father had made several attempts to marry her off, disapprovingof her solitary residence so far from the center of the city; but shehad frowned upon one and all of the suitors he had encouraged to call onher. She was undeniably impressive, almost formidable, he concededprivately, with a touch of the shrew and harridan. Life with Miss AnnaVan Tromp would not be easy, he reflected. But then, life with hissister Julie was not easy, either. Miss Anna, however, had not to faceatomic warfare; all she had to look forward to in fourteen years wassurrender to the besieging British, which she would have no trouble insurviving._

  _He settled down to his ingratiating best and succeeded in making a mostfavorable impression on Miss Anna Van Tromp before at last he took hisleave, carrying with him a fine, hand-wrought bowl with which the ladyhad presented him. He had a hunch he might come back. Of all the timeshe had visited since finishing the machine, he knew that old NewAmsterdam in the 1650s was the one period most likely to keep himcontented--provided Miss Van Tromp didn't turn out to be a nuisance. Sohe took careful note of the set of his controls, jotting them down sothat he would not be likely to forget them._

  _It was late when he found himself back in his own time._

  _His sister was waiting up for him. "Two o'clock in the morning!" shescreamed at him. "What are you doing to me? Oh, God, why didn't I marrywhen I had the chance, instead of throwing away my life on a worthlessbrother!"_

  _"Why don't you? It's not too late," he sighed wearily._

  _"How can you say that?" she snapped bitterly. "Here I am thirty nearly,and worn out from working for you. Who would marry me now? Oh, if only Icould have another chance! If I could be young again, and do it allover, I'd know how to have a better life!"_

  _In spite of his boredom with her, Vanderkamp felt the effect of thiscry from a lonely heart. He looked at her pityingly; it was true, afterall, that she had worked faithfully for him, without pay, since theirparents died. "Take a look at this," he said gently, offering her thebowl._

  _"Hah! Can we eat bowls?"_

  _He raised his eyes heavenward and went wearily to bed._

  * * * * *

  "I saw Vanderkamp again about a fortnight later," Harrigan went on. "Raninto him in a tavern on the Bowery. He recognized me and came over.

  "'That was some story you did,' he said.

  "'Been bothered by cranks?' I asked.

  "'Hell, yes! Not too badly, though. They want to ride off somewhere justto get away. I get that feeling myself sometimes. But, tell me, have youseen the morning papers?'

  "Now, by coincidence, the papers that morning had carried a story fromsome local nuclear physicist about the increasing probability that theatom would be smashed. I told him I'd seen it.

  "'What did I tell you?' he said.

  "I just smiled and asked where he'd been lately. He didn't hesitate totalk, perhaps because his sister had been giving him a hard time withher nagging. So I listened. It appeared, to hear him tell it, that hehad been off visiting the Dutch in New Amsterdam. You could almostbelieve what he said, listening to him, except for that wild look hehad. Anyway, he'd been in New Amsterdam about 1650, and he'd broughtback a few trifling souvenirs of the trips. Would I like to see them? Isaid I would.

  "I figured he'd got his hands on some nice antiques and wanted anappreciative audience. His sister wasn't home; so he took me around andshowed me his pieces, one by one--a bowl, a pair of wooden candlesticks,wooden shoes, and more, all in all a fine collection. He even had achair that looked pretty authentic, and I wondered where he'd dug up somany nice things of the New Amsterdam period--though, of course, I hadto take his word as to where they belonged historically; I didn't know.But I imagine he got them somewhere in the city or perhaps up in theCatskill country.

  "Well, after a while I got another look at his contraption. It didn'tappear to have been moved at all; it was still sitting where it had beenbefore, without a sign to say that it had been used to go anywhere,least of all into past time.

  "'Tell me,' I said to him at last, 'when you go back in time do you getyounger?'

  "'Yes and no,' he said. 'Obviously.'

  "It wasn't obvious to me, but I couldn't get any more than that out ofhim. The thing I couldn't figure out was the reason for his claim. Hewasn't trying to sell anything to anybody, as far as I could see; hewasn't anxious to tell the world about his time-machine, either. Hedidn't mind talking in his oblique fashion about his trips. He did talkabout New Amsterdam as if he had a pretty good acquaintance with theplace. But
then, he was known as a minor authority on the customs of theDutch colony.

  "He was touched, obviously. Just the same, he challenged me, in a way. Iwanted to know something more about him, how his machine worked, how hetook off, and so on. I made up my mind the next time I was in theneighborhood to look him up, hoping he wouldn't be home.

  "When I made it, his sister was alone, and in fine fettle, ascantankerous as a flea-bitten mastiff.

  "'He's gone again,' she complained bitterly.

  "Clearly the two of them were at odds. I asked her whether she had seenhim go. She hadn't; he had just marched out to his shop and that was anend to him as far as she was concerned.

  "I haggled around quite a lot and finally got her permission to go outand see what I could see for myself. Of course, the shop was locked. Ihad counted on that and had brought along a handy little skeleton key. Iwas inside in no time. The machine wasn't there. Not a sign of it, or ofVanderkamp either.

  "Now, I looked around all over, but I couldn't for the life of me figureout how he could have taken it out of that place; it was too big fordoors or windows, and the walls and roof were solid and immovable. Ifigured that he couldn't have got such a large machine away without hissister's seeing him; so I locked the place up and went back to thehouse.

  "But she was immovable; she hadn't seen a thing. If he had takenanything larger than pocket-size out of that shop of his, she had missedit. I could hardly doubt her sincerity. There was nothing to be had fromthat source; so I had no alternative but to wait for him another time."

  * * * * *

  _Anna Van Tromp, considerably chastened, watched her strange suitor--shelooked upon all men as suitors, without exception; for so her father hadconditioned her to do--as he reached into his sack and brought outanother wonder._

  _"Now this," said Vanderkamp, "is an alarm clock. You wind it up likethis, you see; set it, and off it goes. Listen to it ring! That willwake you up in the morning."_

  _"More magic," she cried doubtfully._

  _"No, no," he explained patiently. "It is an everyday thing in mycountry. Perhaps some day you would like to join me in a little visitthere, Anna?"_

  _"Ja, maybe," she agreed, looking out the window to his weird andfrightening carriage, which had no animal to draw it and which vanishedso strangely, fading away into the air, whenever Vanderkamp went intoit. "This clothes-washing machine you talk about," she admitted. "This Iwould like to see."_

  _"I must go now," said Vanderkamp, gazing at her with well-simulatedcoyness. "I'll leave these things here with you, and I'll just takealong that bench over there."_

  _"Ja, ja," said Anna, blushing._

  _"Six of one and half a dozen of the other," muttered Vanderkamp,comparing Anna with his sister._

  _He got into his time-machine and set out for home in the twentiethcentury. There was some reluctance in his going. Here all was somnolentpeace and quiet, despite the rigors of living; in his own time therewere wars and turmoil and the ultimate threat of the greatest war ofall. New Amsterdam had one drawback, however--the presence of Anna VonTromp. She had grown fond of him, undeniably, perhaps because he was somuch more interested in her circumstances than in herself. What was aman to do? Julie at one end, Anna at the other. But even getting rid ofJulie would not allow him to escape the warfare to come._

  _He thought deeply of his problem all the way home._

  _When he got back, he found his sister waiting up, as usual, ready todeliver the customary diatribe._

  _He forestalled her. "I've been thinking things over, Julie. I believeyou'd be much happier if you were living with brother Carl. I'll giveyou as much money as you need, and you can pack your things and I'lltake you down to Louisiana."_

  _"Take me!" she exclaimed. "How? In that crazy contraption of yours?"_

  _"Precisely."_

  _"Oh no!" she said. "You don't get me into that machine! How do I knowwhat it will do to me? It's a time machine, isn't it? It might make anold hag of me--or a baby!"_

  _"You said that you wanted to be young again, didn't you?" he saidsoftly. "You said you'd like another chance...."_

  _A faraway look came into her eyes. "Oh, if I only could! If I onlycould be a girl again, with a chance to get married...."_

  _"Pack your things," Vanderkamp said quietly._

  * * * * *

  "It must have been all of a month before I saw Vanderkamp again,"Harrigan continued, waving for another scotch and soda. "I was down inthe vicinity on an assignment and I took a run over to his place.

  "He was home this time. He came to the door, which he had chained on theinside. He recognized me, and it was plain at the same time that he hadno intention of letting me in.

  "I came right out with the first question I had in mind. 'The thing thatbothers me,' I said to him, 'is how you get that time machine of yoursin and out of that shed.'

  "'Mr. Harrigan,' he answered, 'newspaper reporters ought to have atleast elementary scientific knowledge. You don't. How in hell could evena time machine be in two places at once, I ask you? If I take thatmachine back three centuries, that's where it is--not here. And threecenturies ago that shop wasn't standing there. So you don't go in orout; you don't move at all, remember? It's time that moves.'

  "'I called the other day,' I went on. 'Your sister spoke to me. Give hermy regards.'

  "'My sister's left me,' he said shortly, 'to stew, as you might say, inmy own time machine.'

  "'Really?' I said. 'Just what do you have in mind to do next?'

  "'Let me ask _you_ something, Mr. Harrigan,' he answered. 'Would you sitaround here waiting for an atomic war if you could get away?'

  "'Certainly not,' I answered.

  "'Well, then, I don't intend to, either.'

  "All this while he was standing at the door, refusing to open it anywider or to let me in. He was making it pretty plain that there wasn'tmuch he had to say to me. And he seemed to be in a hurry.

  "'Remember me to the inquiring public thirty years hence, Mr. Harrigan,'he said at last, and closed the door.

  "That was the last I saw of him."

  Harrigan finished his scotch and soda appreciatively and looked aroundfor the bartender.

  "Did he take off then?" I asked.

  "Like a rocket," said Harrigan. "Queerest thing was that there wasn't atrace of him. The machine was gone, too--the same way as the last time,without a disturbance in the shop. He and his machine had simplyvanished off the face of the earth and were never heard from again.

  "Matter of fact, though," Harrigan went on thoughtfully, "Vanderkamp'sdisappearance wasn't the really queer angle on the pitch. The otherthing broke in the papers the week after he left. The neighbors gotpretty worked up about it. They called the police to tell them thatVanderkamp's sister Julie was back, only she was off her nut--and a gooddeal changed in appearance, too.

  "Gal going blarmy was no news, of course, but that last bit about herappearance--they said she looked about twenty years older, all of asudden--sort of rang a bell. So I went over there. It was Julie, allright; at least, she looked a hell of a lot like Julie had when I lastsaw her--provided you could grant that a woman could age twenty years inthe few weeks it had been. And she was off her rocker, sure enough--orhysterical. Or at least madder than a wet hen. She made out like shecouldn't speak a word of English, and they finally had to get aninterpreter to understand her. She wouldn't speak anything butDutch--and an old-fashioned kind, too.

  "She made a lot of extravagant claims and kept insisting that she wouldbring the whole matter up in a complaint before Governor Stuyvesant.Said she wasn't Julie Vanderkamp, by God, but was named Anna VanTromp--which is an old Dutch name thereabouts--and claimed that she hadbeen abducted from her home on the Bowery. We pointed out the ThirdAvenue El and told her _that_ was the Bowery, but she just sniffed andlooked at us as though _we_ were crazy."

  I toyed with my drink. "You mean you actually listened to the poorgirl's story?" I asked.
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  "Sure," Harrigan said. "Maybe she was as crazy as a bedbug, but I'velistened to whackier stories from supposedly sane people. Sure, Ilistened to her." He paused thoughtfully for a moment, then went on.

  "She claimed that this fellow Vanderkamp had come to her house andfilled her with a lot of guff about the wonderful country he lived in,and how she ought to let him take her to see it. Apparently he waxedespecially eloquent about an automatic washing-machine and dryer, andthat had fascinated her, for some reason. Then, she said, he'd brought aten-year-old girl along--though where in the world old Vanderkamp couldhave picked up a tot like that is beyond me--and the kid had added herblandishments to the plot. Between them, they had managed to lure herinto the old guy's machine. From what she said, it was obviously thetime machine she was talking about, and if she was Julie there was noreason why she shouldn't know about it. But she talked as though it wasa complete mystery to her, as though she'd no idea what the purpose