Chapter Twenty-Seven: Yelling at the TV

Mitch and Emmit enjoyed their coffee shop sandwiches and Emmit felt generous enough to buy President Franklin Pierce a large cup of coffee, which was actually the smallest size. Pierce regaled the boys with stories that struck them as surprisingly familiar. There was the one night when Pierce and his buddy Nathaniel Hawthorne just got absolutely shit-faced and egged the Capital building. Those were the good old days.

The place was still pretty busy but nobody bothered the guys. Pierce found this the most incredible experience. He could be in public and not feel like he had to put on a show. Even if people knew who he was, there was nothing they could do to his reputation or career—he had been dead for over a hundred years. Piece stopped at this, now wondering if he wanted to know how he was going to die. He needed a drink and not the coffee that was shaking in his hand.

Mitch, also now thinking about mysterious deaths, got up and went to the restroom. He walked around a corner into a hallway leading to the back exit, two restrooms and the manager’s office.

-Stop there.

-What?

Mitch turned around and immediately noticed his hat that had been stolen. Then he noticed the stealer: President James Polk. Polk explained that he needed Mitch’s help to find President John Quincy Adams. Mitch agreed, saying that JQA was the only missing president now; but everybody was kind of getting tired, so they’d have to pick up the search tomorrow. This was unacceptable to Polk, who said he was too close to finding JQA to give up now, especially when he is the most dangerous president to be unaccounted for.

-You should give me my hat back.

-I need this hat to blend in.

-So do I!

-What?

-You know, to blend in with cool people. It’s a good hat.

-Fine, take it.

Polk took off the fedora and gave it back to Mitch.

-Fine, Polk, I’ll get the others. We’ll keep searching.

-No. You people move too slowly. It should just be myself and one other person who can help me figure out this world.

-Then you want Seph.

-I don’t know who that is.

-Then you should stay with me, Polk.

-Only if you try finding John Quincy.

-Forget about the damn president!

Mitch slammed his hand against the wall, letting his anger immediately vanish. John Quincy wasn’t the only person missing. Seph was, too. Mitch had just dangled off the side of building and there was no reason to think Seph had not been in a similar situation. Mitch, like the others, had to assume Seph was willfully out of communication, but there was no promise. If Seph was dead somewhere, there was no way Mitch would know but if Seph was alive somewhere, Mitch didn’t know that either. Mitch simply could not look for the remaining president anymore.

-Why?

-I need to find Seph.

-Who is Seph?

-He’s my best friend.

Look for a best friend or a worst enemy? They though about it.

-Okay, Mitch. We’ll find Seph.

-Thank you, Mister President. But I got to take a leak first.

Mitch walked into the men’s restroom. Polk, unsure of what Mitch meant, followed.

-What the hell, stammered the president, look at this. This is incredible!

-Yo, said a man at a urinal, you’re way too close!

Moments earlier, Lily and Blair entered the coffee shop and sat down with Emmit and President Pierce, who was more surprised and excited than Emmit by the girls’ arrival. Lily smiled and introduced herself and Blair. Lily immediately wondered where Mitch was but figured he didn’t just go somewhere. Then she really noticed the haggard 1850s president. He didn’t look like the other presidents. He looked more like a movie star. A movie star about a week before checking into the Betty Ford Clinic. A movie star that could emerge years later in some independent movie, giving a realistic performance of a broken man.

Blair didn’t even remember which president was sitting with Emmit after sitting down herself. The girls hadn’t discussed it, but Blair knew she was the one who had to tell Emmit that Bogart ran away. So she did.

-What.

-I’m sorry, Emmit. We didn’t know what to do.

-He might still be in the neighborhood. We have to go now.

-What about the president?

-Lily, can you take Pierce back to the museum?

-Sure.

Pierce said this plan was fine with him, too.

-But where’s Mitch, asked Lily.

-He’s been missing for a while, said Pierce.

Lily called Mitch’s phone only to hear the ring startlingly close. Pierce pulled Mitch’s phone out of his pocket, unsure of how it was making noise. Lily hung up and the phone stopped ringing.

-When did you get that, asked Blair pointing to the phone.

-When your friend and I were hanging off the edge of a building.

-Oh. Wait. What?

-Guys, panicked Emmit, can we go? We need to find Bogart!

-Lily, take a cab, get Pierce to the museum.

Emmit pushed Blair to her car and Lily and Pierce got into a taxi. Lily kept thinking her friends were getting picked off one-by-one. Maybe they were ditching her. She was tired and tired of being alone. Physically she was still riding in the back of a taxi with a former president hopped up on caffeine, but the unusualness of the day made this ride back to the museum feel more tedious than anything. Lily was going to the museum, then she was going home.

Unbeknown to Lily, Mitch and Polk were on the same road, going in the opposite direction. After sneaking out of the back of Big Coffee Place, the guys hopped on a bus—which Polk was able to pay for—and rode to another bus stop. The ride gave Mitch time to speculate why nobody had seen him and Pierce hanging off a four-story building. Polk knew, though.

-You’d be amazed at what people miss when they don’t know what to look for.

Made sense, thought Mitch. Wait. Did Polk see them? Not exactly. He didn’t see the adventure; he saw them in the coffee shop. As soon as Polk had found out that JQA was still missing, he knew the former president would try to re-establish his political power. When he understood the magnificence of television, he knew that’s where JQA could be found. After some time Polk was able to find televisions at a store in the downtown area and even saw JQA.

-What? The president was on TV?

-I’m sure it was him in the box.

-What was he doing?

-Talking to other people at a large desk.

Polk had tried to refute JQA’s broad political sentiments but nobody in the television seemed to hear him. President Polk didn’t have much time to figure out which setting, measurement or telematrix on the box was wrong because he was then kicked out of the store. However, the employee said something along the lines of, “What is with all the weirdos today?” While Polk didn’t know what a ‘weirdo’ was, he had a feeling it meant ‘president’—further confirming Polk’s assumption that other time-traveling presidents were trying to get in the television.

-If he becomes powerful in your time Mitch, JQA will never willingly go back to his time.

-Why?

-This television technology will let him spread his influence with no detractors.

-Yeah, but they don’t just let anybody say their opinions on television.

-John Quincy Adams is a contentious lawyer who switches political parties for the sake of his career and isn’t above making corrupt bargains and slandering another man’s wife.

-My God, said Mitch. They’ll give him his own show.

The last time Seph had gone off without Mitch was to the television studio and then the senator’s office. Those were Seph’s own adventures that everybody else could only see in a rearview mirror. Mitch didn’t find out until they were playing foot-bag later. Mitch didn’t want to find out Seph’s latest adventures over another game of foot-bag. Especially if Seph is hurt or dead. Though Mitch did want to play foot-bag again like Seph said they would.

Polk didn’t mention it to Mitch, but he was bothered by the fact that JQA had gotten in the television so much faster than himself. How was that possible?

Chapter Twenty-Six: Dying a Hundred Years Later

Now that the pressure to find the missing three presidents was entirely in their grubby mitts, Mitch and Emmit realized they were baffled as to where to search but walked downtown. Blair and Lily would find Seph, Mitch knew. Mitch forced himself to know this. He couldn’t let himself worry.

-Okay, say you have to get mauled by one animal.

-What?

-What animal would you chose?

-Shut the hell up, Mitch. Please.

-Really makes you think, though. Doesn’t it?

-It really doesn’t.

-Getting mauled by an animal…actually now I’m kind of hungry.

Mitch suggested they go to Big Coffee Place, which actually had pretty big sandwiches. The coffee wasn’t so good but it was in the downtown area. Mitch couldn’t remember the name of the street, though.

While Emmit didn’t particularly want to eat with Mitch, he figured finding a reason not to was too much work. This day had been exhausting enough, thought Emmit. And though he’d have a couple of stories to share with his family at the next Thanksgiving Day dinner, the money reward wasn’t nearly enough. Wait. Am I getting paid for this? Emmit couldn’t remember. There’s no way he just volunteered for free. Finding criminals always yields a reward, so finding presidents has got to be worth something.

-Maybe we could hold the last three presidents hostage, said Mitch.

-What?

-The presidents, just as wax statues, cost the museum ten thousand dollars.

-Okay.

-So we should demand like nine thousand dollars for each. Then everybody wins.

Emmit considered this plan as Mitch elaborated. It had its merits. Twenty-seven thousands dollars split in half was quite a bit of money. Even if the guys had to split it with the other friends, that was still a lot of money. Twenty-seven thousand divided by five is…what? Shit. Where’s Seph when you need him.

At this point Emmit realized Mitch was actually convincing him, and that was simply not acceptable. I must be going nuts, thought Emmit. Delusional. Maybe I just need food. Besides, Mitch’s plan could never work. And it probably wasn’t even a plan. It was a joke. Just a dumb joke. Plus we don’t even know where the presidents are or where to start searching.

-If I’m a president, thought Emmit out loud, where do I go? I go to all the places we’ve already been. Library, homeless shelter, train station, police department, the museum. Okay, Mitch, this is what we should do: think like Seph. Think big. Contact everybody we know, everybody, and coordinate a street-by-street sweep of the whole city. Or maybe, no this is better, we find Marley. Her dad has a helicopter. We can fly over the city with a megaphone—

-Is that a president?

-Where?

Mitch pointed up and across the street from the coffee shop. On the roof of a four-story building, a thin man dressed in a dark suit slowly climbed over the railing.

-Oh shit.

Emmit and Mitch ran across the street, barely dodging horn-blaring cars. The building was an apartment complex and the guys raced up the flight of stairs, though Mitch fell a little behind. Emmit got to the top but stopped at a door that said “Authorized Personnel Only.” Emmit looked back at Mitch, now stumbling up the last few stairs. Emmit said they’d have to go back and get the manager’s permission, but Mitch didn’t even hear him and slammed into the door that simply pushed open.

The guys quickly saw the man on the other side of the railing. He held on tight to the railing while facing Emmit and Mitch, with his back to the brightly-lit street four full floors down. He looked almost ten years younger than the previous presidents but had soft gray eyes. His medium-length black hair was mangy and string-like.

-Don’t jump!

-Okay.

-Who are you?

-Franklin Pierce.

-Do you think you’re the president?

-I used to be.

-You can be again, just come with us.

Pierce thought about this and told the guys his story, while not moving from the other side of the railing. Earlier that day he saw a store that sold boxes called teletronvisions or something like that. He quickly understood that many people could see one person’s face for miles around. Positive that his face would be recognized, Pierce asked one of the shop-keeps to put his face in the box. The shopkeep professed he had no such power and suggested Pierce do something crazy to get mentioned in the news. Obviously Pierce knew what a newspaper was and was quite willing to believe the New York Tribune would have such phenomenal technology by this age. Pierce demanded more information but the shop-keep told the president to jump off a bridge.

Pierce couldn’t believe a man’s suicide would be so popular in this strange future society, but he was willing to go along with it. Pierce then went to the top of the tallest building in the area, only to consider people may not be able to see him from so far up. Pierce then came to this building but now found himself considering if the building was too short. During all this technology confusion and fake suicide planning, Pierce thought about really killing himself. The brief thought then became a conviction. God had punished him for becoming president. His wife punished him for staying president. And now some other greater power than himself has punished Pierce once again. He simply couldn’t take it anymore.

-If you die, Mitch pleaded, history will get screwed up. And I’ll get fired!

-History already is wrong, lad. Look at your world. I’m sorry.

-No!

Mitch ran to the railing but Pierce let go. Emmit moved almost simultaneously with Mitch but Mitch got a half-step head start and managed to lunge halfway over the railing after Pierce. Mitch would have gone clear over the railing but Emmit grabbed Mitch’s legs in mid-dive. Mitch’s lower midsection landed on the railing, putting his face not too far from Emmit’s feet. Emmit held on as if his life depended on it, knowing that it probably did, but he found his friend unusually heavy. Mitch had grabbed Pierce’s wrist with both hands in mid-fall. The bewildered Pierce, dangling on the side of the building, looked up at Mitch.

-This hurts a lot! Cried Mitch.

-Mitch! Fucking! Shit! Cried back Emmit.

Emmit tried to pull back Mitch and Pierce, but couldn’t. Both non-presidents groaned in pain. Mitch reinforced his grip on Pierce’s wrist with both hands and tried in vain to pull up. Then Emmit’s cell phone started to ring.

-Don’t answer that! Screamed Mitch.

-I won’t!

Emmit tried again to pull the guys, but his grip slipped just a little. The cheerful cell phone jingle continued to mock them.

-Let go of me, ordered the president.

-No!

-I need to die!

-You can die a hundred years ago, I don’t care! But not now!

-Let go of me!

Emmit’s cell phone stopped ringing. And Mitch’s started.

-Oh shit.

-I want to die! I’m a coward!

-Stop being a coward!

Mitch looked up at his pants and saw his ringing cell phone start to fall out of his pocket. Dammit. The phone fell out of his pocket, hit the building and was caught by Franklin Pierce’s free hand.

-Thank you Mister President!

-Guys! Struggled Emmit. I’m losing you!

-Shit happens, Mister President! But we can change shit!

-Do you really think I can?

-For the love of God, yes!

Franklin Pierce hung there in silence for a moment. Wise words, young man, he finally said and put Mitch’s phone in his own pocket. Pierce then put his free hand on the edge of the building and pulled up, helping Emmit just enough to pull all three of them back onto the roof.

Emmit pulled out his phone and went to his missed phone calls. It was Lily’s number and he called her back. We’ll be at the Big Coffee Place on Fifth Street, see you there. Emmit hung up without needing a response. He was almost too exhausted from saving Mitch and the continuity of world history to be proud. And after a few minutes of catching their breath in silence, the two guys and the 14th President of the United States walked down the staircase, across the street, passed the television store and into the coffee shop across the street.

Chapter Twenty-Five: He Ran Away

-Damn presidents.

Snow found Polk’s disappearance particularly disturbing, as she realized Polk now knew people were looking for him and could thus evade capture much easier than the presidents showing up at train stations, homeless shelters and prisons. Blair was more disturbed by Seph’s disappearance, as he would not--or could not--answer his phone.

Emmit suggested he and Blair go search for the missing presidents and Lily and Mitch could search for Seph. Emmit felt that he and Blair were the best team and could find every president before Lily and Mitch found their way out of the museum, but he did not say anything beyond the suggested division. Lily and Mitch voiced their support for the plan.

But Blair pointed out that Emmit and Mitch had found more presidents than anybody and thus should stick together. Snow agreed; unsure of how much clout she carried with her non-employees. Mitch then asked for Todd’s advice but Todd had already disappeared again. Snow was not amused.

-Damn wizards.

Blair and Lily took a taxi to Seph and Mitch’s apartment. The cab driver had just received his Master’s Degree in Theater and was pretty sure he wouldn’t be driving a cab much longer. He said he didn’t regret following his passion and had the girls been listening, they would have believed him. This job isn’t bad, said the driver. He was careful to not say the word “profession.” The money wasn’t so good, but he got to meet interesting people most days. Just yesterday he picked up the District Attorney from the airport, that was pretty special.

Riding the cab, Blair looked out her window at the sky. It was that deep blue color right before night can be considered night, when the sky looks like a blanket. She had tried to capture the color in several of her paintings but never had it right. She considered, for the first time, that maybe the color was more than a color when it was in the world. She wanted to find Seph and was sure they would. But she also thought about how Seph, like everybody else, thought Blair captured the right shade of blue in her paintings. Unexplainably, this frustration led to Blair taking a break from paining all together to focus on her photography. Someday Blair would come to understand Seph might not have seen the difference in the blue colors, but he knew the feeling of struggling when other people didn’t understand the purpose. Until then though, Blair shook her thoughts away from herself and wondered if she should call her older sister.

Lily didn’t notice Blair was looking out the window, as she was looking out the window on the opposite side. Years ago Lily had been at a party and made a joke about Mitch. She was making people laugh and didn’t know Mitch overheard her until it was too late. She later explained to him that she didn’t know he was in the other room. Then she said she was just joking and that the people listening knew that. Then she said she was drunk and didn’t really believe what she said. Then she asked him to see a movie with her but he declined. Then she apologized and he said everything was cool. They stayed friends, or at least shared friends, for another year before she moved but she never felt like Mitch truly forgave her because he never seemed angry in the first place. Maybe he forgot about it all by the next week. But she never would and would have to die not knowing how much Mitch really remembered.

Blair paid the cab fare and unlocked the front door to the dark apartment. Blair turned on the lights and walked into the kitchen. Lily checked the bedrooms. The place was dead.

-How do you have keys to their place?

-Mitch kept locking his keys inside so finally made a copy for me so that I could let him in.

-Why wouldn’t he have Seph let him in?

-I think he did, but he thought annoying each of us half the time was the better route.

Blair put some popcorn chicken in the microwave.

-You hungry Lily?

-No, I’m fine. You sure Seph and Mitch won’t care you’re eating their food?

-You kidding? I bought this for them.

-Then I’m starving.

Lily turned on the TV but only got static and turned it off. Blair explained that Seph and Mitch didn’t have TV despite having a TV. Which wasn’t that unusual except they also sold their DVD player and video game systems. The certain DVD player was actually Blair’s but the Robocop and Star Wars DVD’s were the boys’. Blair said all this with a certain air of admiration, or at least understanding of people trying to simplify their lives. That is, until she added that the boys’ TV was as useless as an empty Kleenex box.

After throwing away their paper plates and trying to call Seph again, Blair noticed a note taped to the refrigerator that simply read: At Emmit’s. No date, no time, no explanation or even signature. Though in an apartment of two a signature would have actually been stranger. Still, said Lily--honing her detective skills--it’s the only clue we got. This might be a message for us. Maybe Seph knew we’d come here looking for him. Maybe somebody else is following him though so he couldn’t elaborate. Maybe they were really close so he didn’t have time! Some kind of fight would also explain the mess in the living room.

-Yeah, that’d explain it, muttered Blair.

Still, Lily was right in her first point. They had no other clues to go off of. So the girls started walking to Blair’s where they could finally get a car and then went on to Emmit’s, knowing Emmit knew less than they. While walking to Emmit’s, Blair borrowed Lily’s phone and called her manager at the Paul Walker Art Museum. Blair didn’t specifically know why, but certainly felt that she was going to be busy tomorrow and said she wasn’t going to make it to her 8-hour shift and just quit.

At Emmit’s, the front door was appropriately locked and the interior lights were appropriately off. Seph hadn’t been here since Blair needed to borrow the shoebox of tools. In fact, Blair realized that was probably when Seph left the note on the refrigerator for Mitch. Lily asked Blair about her now unemployed status. Lily told her friend to get her job back because all this wasn’t worth losing a job over. Didn’t she have bills to pay? How would she buy food? Was she moving away?

Blair shrugged off the concerns with non-answers. Curious to learn more about Lily, Blair didn’t mention that this was the third time she had quit working at the P-WAM. Lily couldn’t understand why Blair quit but tried to stay focused on the missing people.

Finding her focus became impossible, so Lily suggested they at least go see if Bogart needs water or food. Blair felt a sting of embarrassment, having forgotten about Emmit’s popular dog. As they walked into the fenced in backyard, Blair tripped into a small hole and fell down. Lily helped her up and realized how dark the night was getting. Aside from not being able to see, the thought entered Lily’s mind that Seph, along with three former U.S. presidents, might be missing through the night. Blair had realized this while eating popcorn chicken but didn’t want to seem pessimistic and so didn’t mention it. Four people were missing, possibly lost and almost certainly alone.

Thankfully the night wouldn’t get too cold, but now both girls understood that searchers have to sleep sometime. It had been a long day, and even though they weren’t ready to give up yet, for the first time, they acknowledged they’d have to--albeit temporarily--sometime. Lily realized that Blair had quit her job because she couldn’t sacrifice more time or energy than absolutely necessary. Blair couldn’t be distracted from what she wanted, even if nobody knew what she wanted. This display of dedication frustrated Lily, who now realized she had nothing to sacrifice for the cause herself. All her friends had their way of life hanging in the balance, but she had no status quo after moving back home less than a week ago. Lily was fighting the same battles in life as her friends but she wasn’t in the trenches with them.

Emmit had once told Lily that you gain as much as you risk. She thought it was just betting advice at the time, and indeed it was. Emmit was no philosopher, but that didn’t make him wrong.

Blair stepped over a drool-absorbent chew toy and let herself sink into her surroundings. The backyard was as quiet as a monk and just as peaceful. There was a police siren a mile away and leaving. Lightning bugs sporadically went bright, as if they were stars fighting for a last glimmer before sinking into the earth. Blair said she had expected to be greeted by Bogart by now.

-Bogart? Bogart!

-Blair.

-What?

Lily had gone back to the fence gate and closed the door right above the hole Blair tripped in just moments earlier. It was a big hole. Big enough for Bogart to get through? Yes, Blair confirmed. It was.

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Twenties Will Roar Again

Mitch, Seph, Emmit, Johnson and McKinley got to the museum shortly after Todd the Wizard, allowing them to see the end of Snow yelling at Todd for disappearing on her. While Snow was still barking at Todd, he pointed his staff at McKinley and Johnson and froze them both back into statues.

After moving the, now wax, presidents back to their proper dioramas, Blair, Lily, Polk and Buchanan showed up. Emmit ran up to Blair with relived, outstretched arms, but as he got nearer and Blair didn’t reciprocate the gesture, he slowed, grimaced and made a quick hand wave while muttering “hello”. Emmit wanted to prove he cared about Blair’s well being but didn’t want to look like he was trying to prove anything. He just wanted to look how he sincerely felt. Blair noticed Seph didn’t get in to a competition for her attention and partially resented him for it. Maybe he knew she was at prison without being in prison. Maybe he didn’t care now that she was out. President Buchanan though was becoming frustrated that people weren’t introducing him to his American subjects.

-Who are you people?

-I’m tired of introducing myself to every damn president, complained Snow.

-Can we come out yet?

Saying that, President Warren G. Harding and Calvin Coolidge emerged from the manager’s office. Harding perpetually stood in front of Coolidge. Harding knew Coolidge would eventually become president and was glad that his friend was with him, but also still saw him as a subordinate.

-Ah shit, I forgot I put you guys in there, admitted Snow. I was waiting for Todd the Escape Artist to show up.

Harding and Coolidge were the first two president to come to the future and had escaped the museum at the same time. Since then, they had stuck together like a pair of train robbers. They went to the park, courthouse, public library, Wal-Mart and other places. They figured out pretty quickly they were in the future but didn’t know where to go. The two presidents had survived these two days quite easily by eating at fancy restaurants and then running out on the checks three times a day. Concerned that they had eaten at nearly every restaurant in the area, they came back to the museum on their own will and found Snow while Todd was missing. Of course all this information was conveyed by Harding--with Coolidge occasionally giving a single nod in agreement. Buchanan, easily more than anybody else, found this story outrageous.

-You simply ate at establishments and ran away?

-Surprising, I know. But Cal here is actually quite fast.

-And you men become presidents?

-He’s actually my vice-president, but must have become president when I retired. Or will retire.

-You men are disgraceful.

-Who are you?

-I am President James Buchanan.

-And how have you survived these days?

-I was imprisoned for most of it.

-Standard punishment for causing the Civil War, no doubt, said Coolidge.

Buchanan was taken aback. He looked at Polk and the young people from the future to give him reassurance. These men claiming to be future presidents were nothing short of criminals. And disrespectful ones at that. Buchanan knew he had critics but he didn’t know a Civil War had occurred. Even then, it must have been the fault of another president. Buchanan knew he had always acted in the best interest of the country. Before thinking much more, Buchanan was sent back to his own time.

-You should have let me hit him, Blair told Lily.

Emmit and Seph looked at each other. Emmit, without asking out loud, asked if Seph knew what she was talking about. Seph twitched his head just enough to indicate no.

-The man died over a hundred years ago, said Seph to Blair. I think you got your revenge.

Harding asked the people if he could stay and watch a little bit more television before being sent back. He found television to truly be the most remarkable technology in the future. Imagine what you could show people and tell people. It was easily the best way to spread your message and to develop followers. Upon hearing this insight, Seph quietly left the museum.

-Which presidents are still missing, asked Polk.

-I think it’s just Franklin Pierce and John Quincy Adams, answered Snow.

-Old JQA, Mitch sighed. John Junior. Mr. Six. Cue-Ball.

Upon hearing this insight, Polk quietly left the museum. He even saw Seph go to the car but doubted they were leaving for the same reason and thus let him go without interference. Seph never saw Polk.

With little convincing, Harding and Coolidge went over to their own places and waited for Todd to send them back. Harding lamented that he didn’t get a chance to see who’d win the next couple of World Series’. He hoped the Chicago Cubs would regain the baseball dominance they held during the early part of the 20th century. He had a couple of outstanding bets that could be evened out if he had a little luck for the next couple of years. Emmit regretted that he couldn’t help the president out.

-Sorry, but lots of people nowadays think baseball is kind of boring.

-So? People in 1921 thought baseball was boring. Doesn’t mean we didn’t watch.

-And you bet on the games?

-Is there any other way to watch the games?

-I suppose not.

Meanwhile, Coolidge asked Mitch if President Harding knew about his imminent 1923 death. Some said it was a poisoning and it had been bothering Coolidge for a while now. Over the last two days he felt like he was walking, talking and running out on dinner checks with a ghost. Was there any way Harding could be saved?

-They say you don’t talk much, said Mitch.

-They say a lot of things, countered Coolidge.

-Well I would just keep quiet then.

President “Silent Cal” Coolidge wouldn’t mention it to another soul for the rest of his life, including when Harding started his circuitous good-byes seconds later. It wasn’t that Coolidge was particularly quiet, but that he knew how to keep a secret and also felt a president’s words carried a certain power not to be used lightly. President Harding then pointed out that he’d see Coolidge shortly--though it’d be the old Coolidge, which was actually the young Coolidge. Harding was about to make another flip remark when Todd tired of him and sent both presidents back to the 1920s.

Blair felt the smallest pang of regret when the presidents de-animated. Everybody had gotten into such a commotion to send them back, maybe they all missed out on incredible opportunities to learn history from first hand sources. These men had something unique to offer the world, and even if they were jerks, they held a position that required a scope and responsibility that nothing else in life can prepare one for. Knowing nobody else would understand this train of thought, Blair looked around for Seph. He always could see the big picture, but now Blair couldn’t see him. Maybe he was in the restroom.

Lily walked over to Mitch and asked him how had his day had gone, expecting at least one unusual story. Even though Mitch didn’t know why, when Lily touched his arm, he smiled. She hoped Mitch would return the question, or ask her anything, but he didn’t. Also he kind of smelled like rum. Or an alley. Still hoping to draw him into some conversation though, Lily asked Mitch what happened to his hat. This surprised Mitch more than anything that had happened in the last couple of days. Where he did he put his hat? That was a really good hat. Maybe Seph had seen it around.

Except Seph was missing. And so was Mitch’s hat. And so were three presidents instead of two.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Vindication

Riding in Lily’s automobile to the police station had been a thrilling experience for James Polk. They could go miles in mere minutes and the roads weren’t filled with horse shit. Polk also thought about all the extra work that could get done by men when women, apparently, drove cars. More exceptionally, Lily claimed she learned how to drive in a few weeks. Blair disagreed, saying Danica Patrick was in fact still trying to find the brakes. This confused and scared Polk, but Lily explained Blair was just joking.

By the time they got to the police station, Blair decided she should give Seph a head’s up on the girls’ situation and borrowed Lily’s phone again. While Lily watched Blair try to reach Seph and briefly hear Emmit not hearing Blair, or something like that, Polk walked up to the elderly officer on watch duty behind the bulletproof glass. Polk, not sure of who he was looking for, asked if a man had been arrested within the last two days who claimed to be the president of the United States. Turned out, yes, they had. President James Buchanan was in a holding cell awaiting a psychologist’s evaluation.

Lily and Blair saw Polk had wandered off without them and ran up to the counter, ready to retract anything Polk had said that could get them all arrested. Polk, offended that the girls would interrupt him talking to a policeman, pulled them both aside and quietly explained that James Buchanan was indeed incarcerated. Destruction of property, under (some kind of) drug influence and, most expectedly, resisting arrest. Polk didn’t know if Buchanan was a real president though or some lunatic. Blair was pretty sure he was real but Lily suggested they leave and come back with Snow, Seph, Mitch and/or Todd the Wizard. Blair wasn’t ready to give up on Buchanan just yet though. She approached the counter again and explained that the man saying he was the president was in fact hypnotized.

The old officer laughed. He turned around and relayed this information to someone else. Apparently hypnotized people had become quite common since the second hypnotism school opened up in the city--as the first one was actually just another money laundering operation. The police had picked up two chickens and one guy who always thought he was naked this week alone. But President James Buchanan--that was an original one. With that, Buchanan was released to Lily, Blair and James Polk.

Surprising everyone, Buchanan recognized James Polk and extended his gratitude until they got into the parking lot. By then, Polk stopped Buchanan and said it was actually Blair Freeman who formed the clever excuse to get Buchanan out of custody. Buchanan laughed.

-Ha! A nigger? Please go on!

Blair snapped her neck around and moved to knock Buchanan back into 1857 with her fist.

-Oh hell no, she said.

Lily jumped in front of Blair and held her best friend back from assaulting the president.

-Mister President, explain Polk. We are in a different time. Race relations are different.

-Damn your sensibilities, Polk. I’m not going to be muzzled by a nig—

-Fuck you, yelled Blair.

-Blair! Get in the car, let’s just go to the museum, suggested Lily.

-Where are your horses? Asked Buchanan, looking at the car.

-Just get in the car you racist bastard before I throw you back in prison where a couple of gang bangers’ll make sure you can’t enjoy modern marvels like indoor plumbing! Know what I’m saying?

-No, I don’t!

-Get in the car!

Lily got into the driver’s seat with Blair next to her. Buchanan and Polk got into the backseat.

-This is absurd, pointed out Buchanan. This contraption will never move without some horses. Unless it has some kind of steam engine. But that seems highly unlikely.

Lily put her key in the ignition but couldn’t turn it.

-Oh shit.

-I think the battery is dead or something.

-Oh shit.

-Is there something wrong, asked Polk--excited for another trip.

-The car won’t work.

-I told you.

-Shut the fuck up, Buchanan.

Before too long, Lily called the repair shop Blair uses over in North Town and had them tow the car there. Despite it being one of the cheaper repair shops, Lily knew this would push her deeper into a financial hole her parents knew nothing about. Lily had been convinced over the last eleven years that she’d strike it rich herself. Even more rich than her parents. But it didn’t look like that was going to happen within the next hour or two.

So the four people eventually got on a bus destined for the museum as the sun ducked behind the city’s skyline. Of the four, though, only Blair had even ridden the bus and paid for all of their fares--though it took considerable convincing from Lily and Polk to pay for Buchanan’s.

From the time of leaving Lily’s car to getting on the bus, Polk had explained to the incessant Buchanan that some of the best presidents had been brought back to life to share their wisdom with people from the future. Polk confirmed Buchanan’s prediction that he was vindicated by history. Satisfied by this reasoning and revelations, Buchanan fell asleep on the bus. This then gave Polk time to ask Blair the real reason they had been brought to the future.

-A wizard did it to teach some friends a lesson.

-A wizard? Those are just for children’s stories.

-Not anymore.

-But why us? Why no Washington or Jackson?

-The museum could only afford the cheapest statues.

-Oh.

Blair then realized what she had said.

-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—

-We were the worst presidents.

-No. It’s just that people nowadays don’t know who you are. But that’s not a bad thing.

Immediately after saying this, Blair realized it was true. Lily, over-hearing the conversation, turned to Polk.

-Mister President, you’ve traveled into the future and adapted well. You’re quite special.

Polk made a slight expression that was difficult to read and turned away from the girls. They started talking to one another about calling Seph and Mitch or waiting until they got to the museum. Polk moved a little closer to some business executive, standing toward the front of the fairly crowded bus. Reading books cost money in the future, fixing automobiles cost money, riding the bus cost money. He got close behind the man and waited for another sudden stop before bumping into the man and taking his wallet from his back pocket. Polk, playing two moves in advance, put the wallet in his jacket pocket and moved back to the girls who, like everyone on the bus, saw nothing.

-I’m not special, said Polk. Everyone’s traveled into the future.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Soup Kitchens Still Exist

Seph and Emmit entered the shelter not long after talking to Mitch the second time. They couldn’t find him right away, but Seph noticed somebody else he was looking for. He was a stout man with thin gray hair. Standing no taller than 5 foot 7 inches, he was one of the shortest statues everyone was tracking down. He was President William McKinley.

Seph understood why Mitch wouldn’t have noticed this president at the shelter. He was working behind the counter serving food to the less fortunate than himself. Seph approached the president and asked to speak to him in private, to which McKinley immediately consented. In a back room, Seph, Emmit and McKinley explained to each other each other’s situation.

McKinley had come into the shelter yesterday some time after quietly discovering America was over a hundred years in the future than it had been last week for him. However, McKinley found some comfort in the fact that Americans were still taking care of each other and decided to help out until he figured out what to do or how to get back to his own time. He then asked if Seph and Emmit had already eaten. Before answering the question, Seph answered his ringing cell phone.

-Blair?

-Seph. Just a head’s up. We found Buchanan but…

-Hello? Hello? Blair?

-Here, let me talk to her, begged Emmit.

Seph turned over the phone and asked McKinley if he could leave on his own will. McKinley was pretty sure he could, but he wanted to take out the trash in the kitchen before leaving.

Emmit could only make out some words from Blair and so tried as best as he could to tell her he found Benjamin Harrison and had gotten him to the museum. Emmit couldn’t tell if Blair heard him or not. But he did hear the words “president” and “prison” and began to panic. He asked questions, gave advice and recalled his own prison-experience (a grade school field trip and the first season of “Prison Break”) for two or three minutes before realizing the call had been dropped.

-Blair’s in prison. We need to go now, said Emmit.

-Under what conditions is she there?

-What do you mean? She’s in prison!

-Is she in the lobby?

-Prisons don’t have lobbies. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know.

-Is Lily with her?

-I don’t know. I think some president is there, too.

-Who?

-I don’t know. JFK if it’ll make you move faster.

-Okay. We need to find Mitch.

-Blair probably just used her one phone call and you’re dragging your feet.

-Emmit. Slow down.

-Seph. Speed up. When she was my girlfriend…

-What?

Emmit didn’t want to elaborate so McKinley spoke up, saying that there were a couple of other presidents at the shelter. One of whom he knew was a time traveler. McKinley walked out of the back room, through the kitchen and into an alley behind the shelter. There, Emmit and Seph saw Mitch and President Andrew Johnson sometime after they started drinking the rum Johnson traded for from Crazy Man Tatarko.

Shortly before Emmit and Seph had shown up, a coordinator for the shelter noticed Mitch and Johnson were secretly drinking rum of some sort. As that wasn’t allowed in the building, they were asked to turn over the liquor. Having not drank any alcohol in over a hundred years, Johnson refused. Mitch, knowing that Seph and Emmit were coming to the shelter soon, did the responsible thing and left the shelter to continue drinking a hobo’s liquor in a dark alley with a former U.S. president.

In the alley, Johnson was appalled that drinking could be banned from anywhere in the future. What did people do with friends? Or when they were bored and alone? Or when they became sick, Johnson asked. Mitch wasn’t in medical school and so assumed most people just watched daytime TV when they were sick. Johnson didn’t understand any part of that answer. Mitch tried to elaborate, explaining that people wanted to be healthy nowadays. People ate different--and sometimes crazy--foods and exercised. What does Mitch do to exercise? Well usually when he’s walking somewhere, he’ll run as fast as he can for like half a block or so. He’d do that almost every week. It’s a good system, said Mitch. Johnson agreed.

It was around this time that McKinley, Emmit and Seph exited the building and found Mitch and Johnson. Seph told everybody to come with him; it was time to go back to the museum. Emmit concurred; it was time for everybody to come with him back to the museum. While walking through the shelter back to the entrance, Seph saw yet another person he recognized. Shit. It was Todd the Wizard, eating soup by himself but with his cardboard tube.

-Todd. What the hell are you doing here? How did you get away from Snow?

-I am a fucking wizard, Seph. I’ve escaped prisons indescribable by the English language. You think I can’t get away from a museum curator who thinks The Chicago Fire was a disco band from the 1970s?

-Good point. But you’re still coming with us.

-How about I just send these presidents back right now?

-No!

Seph slapped the staff away from being pointed at the presidents but Todd held on.

-I don’t want to drag two wax statues all the way across town. They’re heavy.

So Todd, McKinley, Johnson, Mitch, Emmit and Seph finally made it to the car only to then realize somebody wasn’t going to fit. Emmit suggested McKinley stay back and the guys would come back for him on a second trip. McKinley agreed with this. Seph pointed out that Emmit would be fine by himself. McKinley agreed with this. Emmit felt that he needed to stay with Seph in case Blair tried calling again. Emmit also pointed out that Todd was a fucking wizard and he could just fly to the goddamn museum. McKinley, though slightly confused, also agreed with this.

Todd was adamant that he ride in a car for the first time in years. Johnson was terrified of the concept, how could a car stop without horses? Mitch explained that there was a rubber tube underneath the car that makes the wheels stop spinning--Jobe had shown him once. McKinley was indifferent, as he had actually ridden in a car before. Tiring of McKinley’s jelly backbone, Seph suggested to the president that if the opportunity arises, he should name Theodore Roosevelt to Vice-President. The governor from New York? Sure, I’ll remember that, noted McKinley.

Mitch then volunteered himself to stay behind. Todd, the last member of their party, could take his seat. Mitch knew he was the least necessary person in getting the presidents safely to the museum.

-Congratulations, Mitch, Todd said with a smile. Fortunately for you I can just fly to the goddamn museum. I think you’ll find just a little bit more fortune to fall your way.

Todd the Wizard, without having to straddle his cardboard tube, jumped to the moon, just rising above the horizon.

-Did he say I’m going to find a fortune, asked Mitch.

-No, corrected Emmit. Todd said you’d be more fortunate.

-Oh.

-Yeah, too bad.

-Wait. Is that a dollar?

Mitch picked up a dollar near one of the car’s tires. Emmit groaned a swear word nobody heard and everybody got into the car.

Chapter Twenty One: President Tatarko

Before Mitch got inside the shelter but after he had crossed the street, two guys from a fraternity approached him. Their names were Ethan and Trey but they never introduced themselves. Ethan wore a shirt with a slightly aggressive message printed on it. He also had cargo shorts and a backward baseball cap. Describing Trey would be redundant.

-Excuse me sir, one of them said to Mitch. My fraternity brother and I have a wager. Are you that fellow from the video we watched on the Internet?

-Yes.

-Really?

-Yes.

The one turned to the other. One of them lost twenty bucks that the other gained. Immediately after the money exchange, Mitch couldn’t remember which was which and hoped it didn’t matter. He couldn’t mentally separate the guys and only heard them speak as one, perpetually re-affirming voice.

-Did you guys want like, an autograph?

-No. Why would we want your autograph? I’m afraid nobody knows your name.

-It’s Mitch.

-Even so, I don’t see the value in marking up my shirt. Or my hat.

-But then you can prove you met me.

-I’m not particularly afraid that people won’t believe us. Me either. But thank you. We enjoy your work. Yes, very much so.

The frat guys then hopped onto their tandem bike and rode off. Feeling slightly devalued for the second time in a matter of minutes, Mitch stood on the sidewalk as if on top of a mountain. A success that nobody could see or believe. Being famous kind of sucks, he thought. But only thinking you’re famous sucks even more. It was never Mitch’s goal to be famous, but he had kind of expected, and accepted, it. At this point there wasn’t really anything to do beside light up a bowl. Coast was clear.

After clearing his head outside, Mitch made sure he was at the right place. It was a soup kitchen but was probably called something else. Something less 1890s. But unlike the 1890s, the soup kitchen served more than soup and gave some people a place to sleep, albeit temporarily. The nonprofit shelter was the size of a basketball court and actually had basketball goals that could be lowered when after-school programs occupied the place. Along one wall, a group of volunteers served food. After taking some food, the hungry people would sit at tables not unlike a school cafeteria.

Mitch entered the building with an unfocused ambition to prove he could find a president just as fast as anybody, perhaps even faster. He was also a little hungry and decided that after finding and returning an American president or two back to the museum, he would reward himself to a big burrito over at Big Burrito Place on 4th street. Probably a chicken burrito. It’d be during their busy time though. Wait. There at the table! That’s a president.

The man, maybe in his mid-forties, had grungy facial hair and a trucker baseball cap, obscuring his face. But the black suit jacket had might as well have been a neon sign nametag. Or at least a neon sign, as Mitch still couldn’t tell some of these presidents apart. The man was reading a mangled book that had been torn in half at some point. The reader didn’t know--or didn’t care--that he would never know the second half of the story. Maybe, thought Mitch, the book reader guy had the second half of the book somewhere, but that didn’t seem likely. Nor was it true.

Mitch pulled out a chair at the table across from the dignified reader and sat down. The man put down his book at looked at Mitch with eyes that had seen more than anybody in their right mind could imagine.

-Hello. I’m Mitch. Are you a president?

-Of course I am. I am President Tatarko. Or General Tatarko. Or President Tatarko.

-Did you come from the museum?

-I come from a distant war of another time. Another world. Not this one. Another.

Mitch sat back in his seat, with a glimmer of doubt emerging in his mind. He pulled out his cell phone. President Tatarko jerked back in horror. Didn’t Mitch know cordless phones are dooming humanity because the aliens can hear your conversations in space? In space. Outerspace. Tatarko kept reminding him of this fact but Mitch was skeptical. Admittedly, Mitch didn’t know much about historical presidents or aliens but he was beginning to suspect this president was an impostor. Or crazy.

Ignoring the president’s insight on alien eavesdropping, Mitch called Seph.

-Mitch? Where the hell are you?

-Seph, was there a President Tatarko?

-What?

-I found a president but his name is Tatarko. I don’t remember learning about him.

-Mitch, think about it.

-Think about what?

-What does he look like?

Mitch looked at the man from his tennis shoes to his hockey kneepads to his T-shirt promoting the 1996 Olympics.

-Well, he’s wearing a fancy black jacket.

-There was no President Tatarko.

-What if he’s a president from the future?

-Mitch, please. That would be ridiculous.

-I suppose you’re right.

-Where are you?

Mitch closed his cell phone before hearing Seph’s last question and put it back in his pocket. He then told President Tatarko that Seph doesn’t believe he’s a president. President Tatarko took this news quietly.

-I’m sorry Mr. President.

-It’s okay. It’s okay.

-Do you know any presidents?

-Of course I do. But it’s top secret information. Top secret.

-What’s top secret information?

-That this jacket came from another president. We made a top secret deal.

-Where is he?

-Over there. That’s him. He’s over there. That’s him.

Mitch looked over in the corner. A man with a big nose and crushed in face sat on the ground with his back to the wall. He was wearing a black vest that would have matched competently with President Tatarko’s jacket. Mitch then noticed this man in the corner was holding something wrapped in a T-shirt. Mitch approached this new crazy man who had been illiterate well into adulthood.

-Get away from me.

-My name is Mitch. What’s your name?

-Andrew.

Andrew, like Tatarko, said he was a president but, unlike Tatarko, claimed to be the president. He gave Mitch a little bit of his life story, though a lot of it dealt with him being confused over the last couple of days. He also told Mitch that Tatarko was just some lunatic. Andrew, though, smelled like whiskey. And he was missing a shoe. Mitch felt another inclination of suspicion and redialed Seph.

-Mitch, where the hell are you?

-The homeless shelter. And I might have found another president.

-A president or another crazy guy?

-No. I mean, maybe. Maybe both.

-We’re with Snow and Todd and will be there as soon as possible.

-But Seph, I need to know.

-Know what?

-Was Andrew Johnson one of America’s presidents?

-Yes.

Chapter Twenty: He’s Just Not Wanted

-I wonder if the presidents are going to be freaked out by modern technology, said Emmit.

-Yeah, we should take them to a 3-D movie, joked Seph.

-3-D is in the past. Now 4-D movies are the future, said Mitch.

-A 4-D movie would break the realm of time. Ends as soon as it begins.

-What?

Seph explained that a 4-D movie would be an entire three-hour story compressed into a single instant. And you’d still feel all the emotions. This confused Mitch, who originated the concept.

-You’d feel sad or happy and not know why?

-Yeah.

-And have a sore ass from sitting?

-I guess so, but it wouldn’t take so long.

-Kind of cuts down on make-out time, doesn’t it?

-Mitch, you’re an idiot.

-A 4-D idiot?

-Yes.

-Finally, the train station, said Emmit.

The three guys parked Seph’s car and walked up to the train station entrance, unsure of who they were looking for. But before long, Emmit stopped the guys and pointed to a large man with a bushy white beard on a nearby bench alternating his attention between the train schedule and a map. This man was maybe in his upper sixties and kind of looked like Santa Clause had St. Nick sold life insurance instead of giving away children’s presents.

Seph wasn’t convinced though. Not until he saw the man pull out a pocket watch. Had the man used anything but a cell phone to check the time, Seph would have been convinced; a pocket watch was overkill. Now he didn’t expect the pocket watch to work--being antique technology, or even a display prop--but apparently that’s just how time traveling worked this time.

-Are you the president of the United States?

-You are the first person to approach me and not ask for spare change--whatever that means.

-Not real surprised. I can help you though. What is your name?

-President Benjamin Harrison.

-Of course.

Harrison was appropriately suspicious of these young fellows who claimed ability to help him. The last time he took people’s help he ended up president of the United States. But when Harrison came into power, he found that the party managers had taken it all to themselves. He couldn’t name his own cabinet because they had sold out every place to pay for “election expenses”.

However, Harrison was pretty easy to convince he was in the future. There was enough electricity in the train station and surrounding stores that he had picked up on that rather quickly. He was also relieved that he didn’t have to personally turn on any electric lights, as he knew they were known to cause incredible shocks and even death. Harrison’s first question about the future though caught everybody off guard. Has polio been cured?

-No, said Mitch, we still have plenty of polio shirts.

-Are you talking about polo shirts, Mitch?

-What?

-Yes, polio has been cured, Seph explained. Polo shirts are popular.

-Polo is a disease?

-Yes.

-No. It’s not. Mitch, please, just go over there.

Mitch, frustrated that he couldn’t articulate what he was thinking, walked away from the train station and across the street. But even Mitch didn’t know why he got confused so often so stopped worrying about it. Fortunately people on the other side of road would understand Mitch; he was going to the homeless shelter.

When Mitch had left, Harrison asked Emmit how they knew he would be at the train station. Emmit then had to admit they didn’t know Harrison specifically would be at the train station. They didn’t know who was going to be anywhere. Why? Because they didn’t really know much about any of the missing presidents. People in modern day America had forty some presidents to keep track of--that was simply too many. Also there are a lot of senators and stuff.

-So there’s no reason for me to go to Washington, D.C.?

-No, not really. Most people won’t believe you.

-Or think you are an actor.

-And if they did believe you, they would be considered crazy themselves.

-Do you boys think you’re crazy?

-A little bit, but we’re not dangerous.

-Is the future a better place than my own time?

-Probably.

-So there’s really no reason to go back to my time; the world will do just fine.

Seph and Emmit looked at each other; unsure of what Harrison meant. They didn’t know he was arguably the least popular man ever elected president. Never the first choice for anybody and just one spot above the last choice for enough: he won the presidential election without the majority of votes, or even the most votes. Sometimes that’s how the system had to work though. Or at least that’s what Harrison had told himself every night for the last year.

The situation seemed unusually cruel to Harrison. Two young men from the future were telling him he was unwanted and had to go back to a time they knew he was unwanted in. He was a man without a time. He decided to appeal to the lads’ emotions before being arrested, or whatever it is they planned on doing to him. But before he could say anything, Seph was psychologically driven away by a phone ring. Why would Lily be calling?

From across town and on Lily’s phone, Blair told Seph that the girls had James Polk but weren’t heading to the museum. Seph, too distracted to offer better advice, told Blair about his own current situation. Harrison was too unmotivated to do anything.

Meanwhile Emmit followed Harrison as the round man walked up and down the mostly silent train station terminal. Emmit knew who was calling Seph. Perhaps because he knew Harrison was short-lived for this world, Emmit decided to confide in him. Harrison, always seeing himself as a confidant, allowed Emmit to talk uninterrupted.

Harrison may have felt rejected by millions of Americans, but so did Emmit. Millions of Americans stopped caring about Emmit and his friends for reasons the old man couldn’t understand in over a hundred years. But more painfully, one American had stopped caring about Emmit. Harrison asked who this American was, but Emmit wasn’t willing to go that far. Instead he elaborated that she was waiting on Seph or himself to sent Harrison back to his own time.

At this, Harrison realized what Emmit was asking and agreed. He would go back to his own time, give up all the wonders and terrors to be discovered in this new world so that Emmit could maybe, just maybe, win back the affection of the girl he cared so much about. Maybe Harrison wouldn’t become popular in the future for his limited 21st century existence, or in his own time for the brief absence, but at least one American would know, would feel, that President Benjamin Harrison made a positive difference in his life--or at least tried to.

Seph got off the phone and was startled to discover that Harrison no longer wanted to do nothing or sneak aboard the next train heading for Washington, D.C. but rather wanted to be sent back to his own time. Harrison seemed so logical in Seph’s eyes that he hoped all of the remaining presidents would be this easy to convince.

The three of them got into Seph’s car, with Harrison incessantly marveling at the contraption. Seph suspected that Tyler hadn’t cared so much for cars because the concept was so beyond him; whereas Harrison had a vague idea of horse-less carriages and thus understood enough to question everything possible. This would result in a very long car ride back to the museum. Despite, or possibly because of, the annoying questions and observations, neither Seph nor Emmit remembered they had originally traveled with Mitch.

Mitch was left at the homeless shelter but was not alone. And had Mitch been a former president, he still wouldn’t have been alone.

Chapter Nineteen: Antebellum

Since there was little danger of the group being picked off by a serial killer, zombies, velociraptors or the like, they decided to split up. Knowing that Presidents Arthur and Tyler had wanted to go to Washington, D.C., the guys would go to the nearest train station. Lily pointed out that Arthur had been interested in modern events so the girls should go to the newspaper factory, or whatever. Blair elaborated on the plan a little bit and suggested the public library was closer, so maybe they should check that instead.

The city library was one of those libraries that had remained unchanged in the last couple of decades. Like the bridge, a couple streets, and the city itself, the library was named after the town founder: Jonathan Mainville. A building with so much history and dignity was likely easy to spot for outsiders, thought Blair when she and Lily arrived. There it is. Right in between a tattoo parlor and a sports bar. Also there was a sports bar across the street.

Lily and Blair walked into the entrance and looked in opposite directions. Their gazes went upwards to the three visible levels and around 180 degrees; so many books, so few people. Blair suggested they split up, if one of them sees a suspicious guy, call the other.

Blair would walk all the way to the periodicals before she remembered she didn’t have a phone. Dammit. And just like that, Blair felt more alone in the world than she ever had since she quit writing poetry in high school. She wasn’t necessarily afraid, just unconnected. Not having a phone had been liberating over the last couple of days, but now the vacation was over. Blair turned around and went back to the entryway. When she couldn’t see Lily, Blair figured out they should have formed a plan. Aside from not being able to find each other, they could end up checking the same places twice. Okay, thought Blair, I went to that side so Lily must have just gone to the other side. That was the only direction that made sense.

Unfortunately Lily had gone up to the second floor. As Blair had stayed on the first floor, it only made sense to go up to the next floor, thought Lily. Blair didn’t have a cell phone, but apparently she didn’t care. Being alone gave Lily time to think about other things. I wonder what Mitch and them are doing right now. I could call them, see if they found any presidents. Maybe the other presidents are all together. Some of them are probably friends. They might even be like Blair and me, she thought. Except they’d be guys. And old. And dead. Well, kind of. Lily knew that splitting up in the library was more efficient but had kind of hoped Blair and her could have done this search together. Lily also doubted these books were in any real order. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Lily saw an old guy kind of dressed like John Tyler had been. Except this guy reading a book on the ground had thin, mangy hair down to his ears. Not willing to be so crazy as to ask strangers if they’ve ever been President of the United States, Lily went back the way she came to find Blair. Maybe ten minutes later, Blair and Lily approached the man.

His name was James Polk and he was reading about the Mexican-American War. Just days ago he had received word that Mexico refused to meet the American diplomat. Was this grounds for war? Probably not, but the issue weighed heavily on his mind. That was probably why he was dreaming right now. A surprisingly real dream that he couldn’t wake up from. The book open in front of him, like the dozen other books on the ground surrounding him, claimed Mexican soldiers would cross the Rio Grande days later and kill American troops on American soil. Polk wasn’t a mystic man so wasn’t ready to take advice from a dream, but also didn’t want to turn away a sign. Things got a little bit more confusing for him when two young ladies approached him and asked a question he had never been asked before. Yes, yes he was the President of the United States of America.

In Polk’s mind, Blair and Lily were dressed liked a boy and hooker, respectively. But Polk also knew they couldn’t help it. They were just characters in his dream so he didn’t scold them. Blair and Lily explained the situation to Polk but apparently couldn’t get him to understand the urgency. They didn’t know who was missing or where the possibly missing people possibly were. Lily mentioned they already sent back John Tyler, which made Polk laugh. John Tyler?

-Yeah. Was he from your time?

-Indeed he was. But how can I know you’re truthful?

-How can we prove it?

-What was he like?

-Easily the most cantankerous man I’ve ever met.

-Aw, so you have met him.

Lily added, yeah, and he was kind of a jerk. Figuring they had proven themselves as president caretakers, Lily thought about how to be as inspirational as Seph. She got real animated real fast.

-Come on, come on! We have to go! Or the universe will explode!

-Why, asked Polk.

-Because you traveled in time! We only have a few minutes!

-Why?

-Tyler and Arthur started running.

-Why?

-Because--the universe…it’ll explode.

-That doesn’t seem likely.

Polk walked away from the girls, hoping they’d let him think in peace. This was just like the Van Buren problem in ’44. Play two moves ahead. Think. Sure I’m not dreaming?

-Yeah, you are awake. Over a hundred years in the future.

-Maybe two hundred years in the future, added Lily.

-I don’t think it’s two hundred, corrected Blair.

-Do you not know what year it is, asked Polk.

-No. We just don’t know exactly when you were president.

Odd, thought Polk. I would have figured women would be allowed an education by my lifetime. Or at least the century mark. That was beside the point though. These ladies had at least a basic understanding of their world and had friends who probably knew more. But Polk knew he was the only one who could think like a very, very confused time traveler--or a slightly confused president.

-Are you missing President George Washington?

-No. Not him.

-Thomas Jefferson?

-No, I don’t think so.

-Andrew Jackson?

-Don’t know.

-Okay. Forget searching by people. Think of places.

-Wait. Are you helping us?

-Yes. The responsibility of a president doesn’t stop at the Constitution.

Blair considered calling Seph with a phone she didn’t have but then realized his answer wouldn’t matter even if she got a message to him by way of carrier pigeon. Searching the city with a former president was more exciting than searching the city without a former president. And Polk didn’t seem too crazy, though he wanted to take several of the Mexican-American War books, now convinced they were accurate windows into his, and the country’s, future. Lily stopped him, saying that they couldn’t afford all these books.

Polk was fairly convinced the books were free, but Lily assured him that nothing in the world was free. Polk dropped the books and the matter. Like Polk, Blair didn’t know if Lily was joking, lying or confused, but also didn’t feel the attention was worth the effort. Moving along discussion, Polk suggested they think in the worst case scenarios. A president unfamiliar with where (and when) he was would almost certainly act like a lunatic. An undignified idiot.

-Mr. President, did you even have idiots in your time?

-You mean, did we mock people?

-Yeah.

Polk thought about the 1844 campaign.

-No, we didn’t call our opponents idiots. But we did say they were from Kentucky.

Blair smiled. Presidents were too sane to be crazy. But they could be jerks. She knew where they were going next.

Chapter Eighteen: Is the Universe Destroyed?

Snow dropped Todd to the ground, allowing Todd to get back on his feet and point his cardboard tube at John Tyler and Chester Arthur.

-I have a lot of questions for you, Snow, said Seph.

With a bursting energy wave shooting from the cardboard staff, Todd de-animated both presidents back into their original, wax, life-size, forms. Mitch poked Arthur in the eye just to be sure. Yep. They’re statues.

-Okay, continued Seph with a sigh. I have a few less questions now.

-Great, screamed Emmit in a panic. That crazy guy wearing a bathrobe brought the presidents to life and he can send them back! We need to find the other presidents!

-Who are you, asked Seph to Todd.

-Now! Screamed Emmit. The universe is going to explode!

-Yeah Seph, we can ask questions later!

-Where the hell are the others?

-How much time do we have left?

-Seph!

-Everybody shut up! I made all that up so that we could get those presidents here faster.

-WHAT!?!

Blair and Emmit jumped back started swinging their fists in the air in a mutual blind fury of terror and full-hearted attempt to punch away their adrenaline. Lily walked over to a bench and sat down to catch her breath. Mitch laughed.

Todd the Wizard introduced himself and admitted he was very much responsible for bringing the presidents back to life. Snow had figured out this much herself moments earlier when she went outside to smoke her first cigarette since quitting two days ago and overheard Todd bragging to other bums about how he got revenge on the museum employees. Snow had seen Todd before but this was the first time was he wasn’t waving his staff or doodle at people. She finished her cigarette, grabbed the wizard and pulled him inside the museum to learn more. This is when the others showed up.

At hearing Todd’s confession, everybody turned to Mitch and Seph, who defended they had done nothing; which was exactly what the accusation was. Todd had been in trouble last week and Mitch and Seph had done nothing. Mitch pled ignorance and Seph said he didn’t think Todd really needed help, or at least not the help Seph could offer. But even the boys realized these were weak points.

The two guys were told they don’t notice or care about people they don’t know--a harshly accurate observation. Mitch felt alone but Seph didn’t and asked if they could go in a back room and not have to hold this conversation with everybody else around. Todd denied them the privilege of privacy.

Lily thought about the dunce hats she heard public schools used to humiliate students. She was also aware of their similarly to hats worn by the KKK but didn’t know if those hats were related. But she did realize Seph couldn’t be punished more than being thrown into an unwanted spotlight. Conversely, she thought, Mitch probably wouldn’t have cared, or doesn’t care now. Perhaps he was even too smart to know what a dunce hat was. Maybe.

Emmit was still reeling from the fear of the universe collapsing moments earlier. He was happy that this didn’t seem to be a fear anymore, but was annoyed that Seph hadn’t told him the truth earlier. Yes, the presidents were tricked, but so was everybody else, including Emmit. He wondered about how long Seph would have kept up the lie had something gone wrong, if people had gotten lost or broke a foot. Seph might have lied for the greater good, but what if the greater good was worse? Emmit didn’t like the idea that the world could move too fast for him to make a decision.

Snow poked Todd in the chest and demanded more answers, to which Todd made a book on wizardry history rules appear. But Snow wasn’t going to read some book. Her ass was on the line because the museum could only be closed a couple of days before people would start asking questions--questions she didn’t want to answer with, “A wizard did it.” So Todd made a DVD documentary appear that would explain the wizard rules on history.

Oh no, countered Blair. Nobody was going to watch a stupid educational film about wizards or history.

-Are you really a wizard, asked Mitch.

-Yes.

-So you could make a hundred dollars appear?

-Yes.

-So why do you have duct tape wrapped around your boots?

-Yes, most wizards become billionaires; that is, most billionaires are wizards, but not me.

-Obviously. So why?

-I just keep it real, son.

Lily then asked Todd if there was anything he wanted. He was a wizard, but wizards are people, too. Or at least close enough to people. Lily didn’t really know the rules on wizards. Yes, Todd confirmed, wizards are people. And there was something he wanted. He wanted friends. And a sandwich. He made a sandwich appear then, but said he couldn’t do the same for friends. Wrong, corrected Lily. It just takes time to see them. Todd smiled and Lily would have hugged him but Todd the Wizard still smelled like raccoon pee.

Only lightly touched by the sentiments, Seph decided to move things along. True or false, you made all twelve presidents come back to life: True. You, Todd the Wizard, know where they all are: False. The presidents are human and can die: True. If they die in our time, they die in their time: True. You can send them back to their right time right now: False. You have to be within eyesight of them: True. Anybody can use your staff to send them back in time: False. This is all bad news, thought Seph. True.

Just then, Mitch had a moment of clarity. Well, he said, lets go get a drink.

-What?

-What-what? Let’s get a drink. This is only a problem for the museum.

Dammit Mitch, muttered Snow, who then offered the jobs back to the two guys less than an hour after firing them. Todd asked for a job, too, but Snow said no. However, Todd needed to stay close to her so he could send the presidents back in time as timely as possible. If they came back to work for the museum, Seph and Mitch would be sent off to find the damn presidents and bring them back ASAP.

The half-brothers looked at each other. For the first time in either of their lives, a sense of duty entered their minds--however each still very much needed the other. They accepted the jobs, with pay raises. Stupid presidents better get found quickly, reiterated Snow.

Blair knew this was Seph and Mitch’s responsibility. Their mess. She also knew they knew this and they couldn’t ask for help. That’s why she volunteered to help them. Seph was weary and reminded Blair that searching for several missing people in a big city could be dangerous work. Completely understanding, Blair then also volunteered Lily and Emmit to help.

The five friends headed to the exit, each forming a plan, when Mitch stopped and turned back to Todd the Wizard. Mitch admitted he had never personally time traveled but had seen a number of movies on the matter. Are we in any danger of changing history, he asked. Like, where everybody in the future--I mean the present--starts wearing underpants on the outside because we accidentally kill a president?

-Son, said the thousand-year old Todd, the only history you know is the history you create.

Damn wizards.