TEEN FICTION

“Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

The voice sounded strained with urgency. It came to Kade from very far away.

“Now! You’ve got ta’ wake up. You’re goin’ ta’ be late. They’ll cut yer pay.”

Kade took a deep breath and settled deeper under the covers A scratchy blanket stretched across his shoulder, a lumpy pillow cradled his head. But that voice… what kind of weird accent was that? Like something from a movie. Or a Lucky Charms commercial.

He must have fallen asleep with the television on.

“Now, boyo!”

Oh, he’d better turn that TV down before it woke up the whole house.

Eyes closed, Kade struggled to his elbows and tried to sit up.

His skull smacked into something hard overhead. Jeeeezzzusss!!! What the…?

Squinting against the pain, Kade opened his eyes a slit.

Holy crap! Taut, webbed straps and the bottom of a blue-striped mattress hung above him. How in the world had he gotten under his bed? With a blanket and everything. He must have been dreaming and crawled under. Weird.

“Ah, good, yer movin’,” said the voice of the leprechaun. “We’ll see you above decks then.”

A door slammed, and then the television went quiet. Something prickled in Kade’s mind that had nothing to do with him konking his head.

His head...

That awful, ear-bleeding noise at the Titanic exhibit. Simon Sharp threatening to tell someone...something... that was the last thing he remembered. But then how did he end up under the bed?

He had to go find out what had happened, how he’d managed to get home, how to get out from under.

Kade took a deep breath and shifted his butt well to the left, planning to shinny out from beneath the bed.

But his butt found only air and sank, and the rest of Kade’s body followed to the floor.

The drop wasn’t far, but no carpeting covered the bare wood floor. His butt impacted first, followed by his shoulders. He didn’t let his head fall back until the pain registered in his butt. His stomach sank as he looked at the ceiling – painted plain white, bulbs hanging bare from their sockets. Was he in the hospital? Had he lost consciousness somewhere and been rushed to Beth Israel Hospital by ambulance?

Kade looked right. Bunk beds stretched two by two – one above, one below – along the wall for a total of six bunks. To the left, another six bunks. The one on the bottom right belonged to Kade. His bible and a picture of his baby sister were tucked under his pillow.

Kade’s breath stuck in his throat. Where had that thought come from? He didn’t have a baby sister. He didn’t have his own bible. He certainly didn’t have a bunk bed.

But no. That was his bunk, he was sure of it. He scrambled to his feet and crossed to the wardrobe at the head of the beds. He caught sight of the clock perched on top of the cabinet. Yikes! Timmy was right. He was late.

Kade froze in his tracks. His stomach heaved. How did he know the locker was called a wardrobe? What was he late for? Who was Timmy?

He squinched his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Then he counted to ten and said out loud, “My name is Kade West. I live at 78-113 Street, Queens. My mother’s name is Angela. My father’s name is Darius. Last night the Yankees played the Orioles and I don’t have time to stand around here talking about all this because I’m late for my shift.”

He bolted for the wardrobe and ripped the door open. His bellboy uniform hung just inside, right where he left it when he’d taken it off last night.

Ripping the pants from the hanger he stuck his hand in the pocket. He’d gotten a nice tip last night and…

A wave of dizziness washed over Kade and he sunk to his knees. What the heck was going on? Last thing he remembered, he was stuck in a dark room at the museum. With Simon.Once again he took in his surroundings. Absolutely not City Museum. Not home. Not a hospital.

Using the metal frame of the lower bunk as leverage, Kade pulled himself to his feet. The floor below him pitched and Kade automatically braced himself and said a quick prayer they weren’t in for a rough crossing.

Nuts. He was going to be late if he didn’t get a move on.

Quick as he could he stripped out of his bedclothes and got into his bellboy uniform – navy blue pants, short navy jacket. He tugged on shoes after retrieving them from under the bunk, grabbed his blue cap from the shelf inside the wardrobe, and scrambled out the door.

In the passageway he turned left and headed for the stairs, darting between cooks and stewards and ship’s officers all making their own way up and down the corridor. He’d managed not to be late yet on this voyage and he didn’t want to start now. Two steps at a time he dashed up the staircase, up, up, up until he thought he’d collapse from lack of breath.

“Hollister, here you are at last.” Smithers grimaced as Kade came to a stop at the top of the staircase. He snapped shut his watch and slipped it into the pocket of his navy vest. “I wonder how much nearer you can get to being late while still being on time.”

Kade ducked his head, gasped for air. “Sorry, sir.”

“Not a very heartfelt apology,” Smithers said.

“I’m very sorry sir.” Kade forced himself to meet his boss’s sunken, beady eyes. He thought maybe that was just what the devil’s eyes looked like.

Smithers sneered. “Cap on, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Yessir.” Kade popped his stiff brimmed hat onto his head and settled it so the brim lay level.

“What shall we do with you?” Smithers brusquely smoothed down the shoulders of Kade’s short-waisted jacket, then took a step back and studied him head to toe. “It will have to do. You’ll start at the kennels today.”

Kade’s spirits sagged and disappointment rounded his shoulders. Smithers had it in for him. No post offered less action and more noise than the kennels. And no action meant no tips. Still, no way would he let Smithers see how much the assignment bugged him. “Thank you, sir,” he said, and made himself smile.

Smithers’s left eye twitched. He said through his scowl, “Be on your way.”

Kade turned away from Smithers, his footsteps heavy. The kennels. Timmy would never let him live this down.

Timmy? Who was Timmy?

Though Kade slowed his steps he kept moving. Okay, something was going on here. What was going on? He was Kade West. He lived in Queens. He was saving his birthday and Christmas money for the new Play Station console.

And…

Realization crept up on him like the memory of a dream. He was Kade Hollister. Like his buddy Timmy, he was a bellboy on this voyage. He was saving money to buy clothes for his baby sister.

For Kade West, today was July 11 and the Yankees were about to start a three-day home stand against the Red Sox.

For Kade Hollister, today was April 12 and in a few short days he’d be in New York with just enough time to wire money home before working the next crossing.

He dragged a hand across his brow, clearing away the beads of sweat collecting there. This West/Hollister thing was getting beyond weird. He thought it was maybe a good thing he’d be down by the kennels where nothing much happened. He needed time to figure out this craziness. How could he be in two places at once? Two times at once?

Barreling down the passageway, his shoes clomping against the sparkling white tile, he dodged well-dressed passengers as he rushed past, raced up the stairway, and pushed open the door.

Cold, ocean air assaulted him as he stepped over the threshold onto the deck. He caught his breath, thankful to be free of the smell of fresh paint and faintly musty odor of steam heat. Hoping to clear his mind so he could focus on his puzzling situation, he crossed the even, gleaming wood of the deck. As he approached the ship’s railing, his other self – his future self – reclaimed control.

Where am I? he wondered, looking out at the vast unending darkness of the water. Hot a single bird passed through the sky. A strange tingling in the back of his mind told him he should recognize his surroundings. It’s a ship, an ocean liner. I’m a bellboy. I thought bellboys hauled luggage at hotels. What possible use could a bellboy be at a kennel on a ship? Maybe I’m not a bellboy. Maybe I misunderstood what my job is. What am I supposed to do here?

Panic made his stomach clench, as though he’d eaten ice cream too fast. Each step along the glistening wood deck increased his anxiety, until the worry drowned out the knowledge his present day self possessed. Only his future self seemed to remain, alert to his surroundings, listening as the sound of barking dogs led him aft, toward the large storage room serving as a kennel. Beyond that, though he was certain he should know, he had no idea where he was, or where the ship was traveling.

Wherever he was going, he was going in style. The people scattered here and there along the deck were fabulously dressed. Men strolled by wearing soft cloth topcoats and silk-wool scarves; women wore dresses that reached to the floor and elaborate hats with feathers and bows stuck all over them. They looked like something out of a Broadway play – or those old dull movies Grandma West liked to watch.

A man and a woman passed by him, arm in arm. They smiled at him then returned their attention to one another.

Again there was that strange tickling in the back of Kade’s mind, a feeling in his gut that told him he knew this ship, knew the identity of the couple. He slowed down, turning to watch them walk on, and waited for some mental breakthrough to happen. But all that happened was that he burped. And the feeling and the tightness in his belly went away. Huh.

He continued ahead and made the final turn that put him in front of the door to the kennels. He stepped aside as a gentleman came out. Wearing clothes even Kade’s inexperienced eye recognized as worth a mint, the man led a sand-colored, wiry-haired dog along on a leash. Seemed odd to see a rich guy walking his own dog. Kade wondered if maybe Smithers wanted him to walk the dogs. But even as he had the thought, his present day self advised that no, that wasn’t his job. Once the ship was at sea, his job consisted mainly of running errands for the passengers – delivering messages or fetching things from servants not permitted to attend the first class areas.

At last he understood why the kennel was a rotten place to start a shift. Not too likely the dogs would be sending any messages. Inside the kennel room he walked the length of metal-doored cages the dogs were in. All sizes, all colors, all shapes, all barking at him. This was going to be a long day.

He’d just taken up position leaning against a wall, staring at the noisy dogs and wondering whether he ought to be stationed outside when the door to the deck sprung open and in walked the last person Kade expected he would be happy to see. At least, it sort of looked like... “Simon?” he asked. The kid had no freckles, and was even shorter than Kade remembered, but he wore thick, dark-rimmed glasses. And that wise-old-owl look in his eyes...

“Kade? Is that you?”

Kade raised a hand to his face. “What do you mean is it me? Who else would it be?”

Simon swallowed hard, the motion visible above his starched-stiff shirt collar. “You don’t much resemble yourself.”

He brushed a hand over his uniform coat, took in Simon’s gray jacket and pants, his matching hat. “I guess you’re not on the crew, huh?” Simon shook his head, eyes wide. “I’m here with my parents,” he said.

“Sorry man,” Kade said. He couldn’t imagine being forced to take a trip with his family, no matter what the century.

“But they’re not my parents. What I mean is, they’re my parents now, here, but not…” He scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head, the effect of struggling to explain the oddness clearly frustrating him.

Kade nodded rapidly. “I know what you mean. What I don’t know is how we got into this. Weren’t we just…?”

“In the museum, in –”

“That room. And now I don’t know where we are.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “You don’t know?”

Kade waited for him to add “either”, but he didn’t. All at once remembering that he was supposed to be cooler than Simon Sharp, Kade straightened his stance and squared his shoulders. “I know we’re on a ship.”

But Simon shook his head and his jaw went a little slack, brows furrowed with worry. “Kade, we’re on the Titanic.”

© 2012 Jennifer McAndrews