That Which Leads Us Home - Chapter 13, Angry Skies
That Which Leads us Home
by Frakkin_Eh
Rating: K for now....
Authors notes: This story is a sequel of sorts to the Movie 'For All time' starring Mark Harmon and Mary McDonnell. It picks up in the second to last scene in the movie. If you have not seen the movie you should be able to follow the story anyway as I hope (fingers crossed on that one) that I've provided enough information in the story about what happened prior to the timeline the story takes place in. You should watch the movie though, for no other reason than it's a wonderful little movie and .. well, Mary's in it.
Huge thanks to tayryn for being my beta. Always so encouraging and the compliments are so sweet!! She called me **EVIL** this evening... if that ain't the Stanley Cup of writing then I don't know what is... heh heh heh
Chapter 13 - Angry Skies
Charles mouth watered as he touched her, caressed her… relished the salty taste of her flesh on his lips. His heart pounded and his groin ached with desire as she writhed on the sheets beneath him, begging him not to stop.
“Charles,” she moaned as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Urging him on, she answered each thrust as he took her hard and deep.
Feeling himself slowly slipping from the grasp of control he buried his face in her hair as he took her faster, harder. He cursed under his breath as he quickly approached that ever-coveted pinnacle of lust and love and all things carnal.
“Charles” she moaned again. But her tone had altered… somehow it sounded different. Charles lifted his head to find her eyes and started at the realization that the woman wasn’t Laura at all.
He pulled away quickly, shaking his head in an effort to ward off the confusion. She slowly sat up, pulling the sheets up to cover her naked body. Charles closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again to look at the woman before him. A sudden wave of relief washed over him… it was Laura.
There she was, sitting next to him, with a million questions in her beautiful green eyes. “Charles? Darling, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, honey…. Nothing at all.” He answered as he reached out to cup her cheek in his palm.
But there was nothing there.
As Charles reached for Laura his hand swept through her image as though she were mist on a mountain.
“Laura?” he called out in a desperate whisper.
And then she was gone.
“Laura!”
Charles suddenly sat upright, his body drenched in sweat. “Jesus,” he muttered as he ran a shaky hand over his face. Trembling, he scrambled from his bed and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, cupped his hand and filled it with cold water. He then bent down to splash it on his face.
As the cobwebs began to clear he exhaled a long breath. The dream had been so vivid, so clear… had felt so real. He had had dreams of Laura before, but this one… this one had left him shaken to the core.
No matter what he did he just couldn’t shed the feeling that had come over him yesterday. While the intelligent part of him knew that the woman on the street couldn’t possibly have been Laura, Charles just couldn’t quite convince his heart of it.
“Oh stop it, Charlie!” he said sternly to the mirror. “You are going to drive yourself mad if you keep this up.”
Annoyed with himself he turned off the faucet in an exaggerated motion and abruptly left the bathroom.
“*****************************************************************************
“*****************************************************************************
Laura bustled anxiously about her room as she prepared for the day. It was still quite early, even by her standards, yet she’d already been awake for what felt like hours. While her body had been exhausted the night before, her mind just wouldn’t shut down. She’d fallen asleep quickly and slept soundly for a couple of hours. But Laura had woken in the middle of the night and tossed and turned until she’d finally given up on sleep altogether. The fatigue that lingered in her limbs was a grim reminder that she could have used a few more hours of sleep, while the nervous energy that pulsed through her veins reminded her that she had much to do.
As Laura inspected her image in the mirror she frowned at a subtle crease that ran across the skirt of her dress. “Oh dear,” She said. “I should try to get that out.”
She made her way to the bathroom, took a facecloth from the towel rack, and placed it under cold water. As she had done each time she touched the faucet, she giggled at the notion of having running water at her disposal. ”Oh how nice it would be to have this in my kitchen.” she thought.
As she ran the damp cloth over the wrinkle, in an effort to work it out, Laura chuckled to herself. “Mother would never approve of this method.”
Laura could hear the city come alive outside her window as the noise from the hustle and bustle intensified. Giving up her quest for a wrinkle free outfit, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her watch… five forty-five.
“Okay, Laura.” She said to the reflection. “If yesterday afternoon was any indication, it’s going to be one very long day. Better find a good breakfast before you hit the streets.”
“*****************************************************************************
“*****************************************************************************
Charles scanned the newspaper as he sipped the last of his coffee. His breakfast, the standard two eggs and bacon, was long gone and he sat waiting for the bill.
Giving up on the paper, he pulled a small notebook from his breast pocket. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got going on today,” he said under his breath as he began to review his notes. Nine o’clock meeting with Mr. Corrigan to discuss the look and layout of his new ad, then eleven o’clock at the bar of his hotel with Mr. Jenkins. Charles figured that would work out perfectly as this would enable him to check in and see if there were any messages. He could then make his way back out to his luncheon meeting with Mr. Goodfellow.
“Alright then.” He thought. “Let’s get at it.”
He reached into his pocket, extracted twenty-two cents and tossed it on the table. He then grabbed his hat and placed it on his head as he made his way out the door.
“*****************************************************************************
“*****************************************************************************
“Lattimer. Charles Lattimer.” Laura said in frustration. Seeing the defensive look in the old man’s eyes Laura help up her hand in an apologetic gesture. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just been a long morning and I’m tired. That’s no excuse to be rude, I know, simply an explanation of sorts I suppose.”
Laura’s apology earned her a soft smile from the elder gentleman behind the counter. “It’s alright, dear,” he said, “we all have our moments.”
She smiled, acknowledging his words, as he continued. “Is he a relative of yours, this… Mr. Lattimer?”
“He’s a close friend, sir, and I am very eager to locate him.”
“I wish I could be of more help to you.” He said regretfully.
“As do I, sir.”
“Well, I do have your name,” the old man repositioned the glasses on his nose so he could review what he’d written in front of him, “Mrs. Brown. Please be assured that if he comes in I’ll be certain to let him know you were here.”
“Thank you.” She said with a tired smile.
As Laura exited the building she squinted in the harsh light of the sun. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes she noted how high it sat in the sky. “Oh my! It must be getting close to lunch time.” She thought. Her stomach let out an ungodly growl as though to drive the point home.
Reaching into her pocket she extracted her watch. Ten minutes past noon… time to find somewhere to eat. Laura didn’t have much an appetite and would have been happy to continue on with her search as opposed to taking time out to eat. But she knew she needed energy, and there was only one way to get it.
Resigned to the fact that some needs simply could not be ignored, she quickly ducked back into the small office. “I’m sorry to bother you again, sir, but can you tell me where I might find an affordable eatery?”
“*****************************************************************************
“*****************************************************************************
Charles groaned inwardly when he received the message at the front desk. Mr. Hicks, owner of the St. Louis Herald, wanted to meet with him again.
“God!” Charles thought. “What is with that guy?”
To him it was cut and dry. His client could afford to spend no more than fifty cents per ad and Mr. Hicks wanted fifty-four. Charles chuckled at the notion that he’d been heckling and arguing over four cents. Sometimes he needed a pinch to remind himself of where he was.
Even in this date in time four cents wasn’t a great fortune. But, considering the number of ads his clients was willing to place in Hicks’ paper, four cents added up to a significant amount of money. And he was not going to budge.
With a smile he motioned to the clerk at the front desk, who scurried over quickly to hear his request. “Can you arrange for a message to be delivered to Mr. Hicks?” Charles asked.
“Certainly, sir. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.”
“Thank you. Tell Mr. Hicks I will gladly meet him, at his office, at three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Yes, sir” The clerk replied eagerly.
“Thanks.” Charles said, as he made his way to the street. “Okay, Charlie.” He said to himself. “You’ll have just enough time to go to your lunch meeting before you need to head down to meet with Mr. Hicks.”
“Couldn’t have timed this better if I tried,” he muttered under his breath as he made a quick right and hurried along the sidewalk.
“*****************************************************************************
“*****************************************************************************
As Laura finished her soup and sandwich, she reviewed her list of papers, magazines, and other publications in the city of St. Louis. The list was larger than either she or Brigitte had anticipated. This posed a problem for Laura as there were still many places on her list and time and money were running out quickly. Dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin she could feel the sting of tears that lay beneath the rims of her eyes, threatening to emerge at the slightest invitation. She was tired, her nerves were frayed, and as each hour slipped by she was losing hope of ever finding him. “Oh, Charles, where are you?” she wondered aloud.
“You can’t let yourself get discouraged, Laura.” She scolded herself. “If you have any hopes of finding him you will need to keep a positive attitude.” Looking at her list again she decided on where she would go next. “Okay, next stop: The St. Louis Post… then if there’s time; the Lafayette Journal.” As luck would have it, they were both on the same street.
Digging into her pocket, she extracted forty cents from her dwindling fund and placed it on the table. A bus boy came by as she was adjusting her shawl over her shoulders. “Did you enjoy your meal, Ma’am?”
“Yes, thank you.” Laura replied with a smile. Just as she was about to walk out she turned to the young man, “Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to Lafayette Avenue?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He answered eagerly before proceeding to give her detailed instructions.
Laura thanked the boy as she made her way out of the diner and down the street.
“*****************************************************************************
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The bells jingled as Charles pulled open the door to the St. Louis Herald. An elderly gentleman, Mr. Hicks Senior, looked up from his work and greeted him with a smile.
“Good afternoon, son,” he said, “what can I do for you?”
“Well, sir, I believe I have a three o’clock meeting scheduled with Mr. Hicks.”
“I’ll let him know that you’re here, Mr.….?” the old man paused in an effort to coax Charles’ last name from him.
“Lattimer.” Charles stated. “Charles Lattimer.”
The old man nodded and then shuffled his way to the back office to fetch his son. “Hmmm, now why does that name ring a bell?” He wondered to himself. He then shook his head as he muttered. “My memory just isn’t what it used to be.”
Charles tapped his foot impatiently as he stared out the window at the people passing by. He was scanning the crowds for her, looking for her at every corner, on every streetcar, in every restaurant window he passed. “Stop it, Charlie!” He told himself for the umpteenth time.
The old man returned to his place behind the counter and gave Charles a warm smile. “He’ll be right with you, son.” He said. He then glanced down at the small piece of paper in front of him. He squinted his eyes as he tried to make out the notes he had jotted down a mere few hours before. “Mrs. Laura Brown… Charles Lattimer.”
“Aha!” Exclaimed Mr. Hicks senior. “That’s it! Mr. Lattimer!”
Charles gave him a puzzled look and then softened his expression into a sympathetic one. “Poor ole guy,” he thought. “Probably suffering from early Alzheimer’s”
The old man stood looking at him and then slowly lifted a finger and pointed it at Charles. “A young woman was in here, just a little while ago, looking for you.”
Charles smiled at him politely. “I think you must be mistaken, sir. I don’t know many people in this city. I think they must have been looking for someone else.”
“No… No, she was looking for a Charles Lattimer I’m certain of it... See, I even wrote it down here on my sheet of paper so I wouldn’t forget.” The old man gestured to the paper before him as he continued, “I wrote her name down too… let’s see…” he said as he squinted even further and tried to decipher his chicken scratch. “The name was Brown… Mrs. Laura Brown.”
Charles’ mouth went dry and he swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
The old man looked Charles square in the eye as he stated firmly. “Look, son. I may be old and I may forget things from time to time, but I don’t think I’d forget a lovely lady like that any time soon. As sure as I am standing here in front of you, a woman came in here earlier and asked if we’d had any dealings with or had heard of a Charles Lattimer. She said her name was Mrs. Brown and that she was trying to locate him.”
Charles could hardly hear the rest of what the man was saying over the sound of his heart beating. In a shaky voice he asked. “Did she say where she was going next?”
“Sure did. She asked if I could recommend a good eatery so I sent her over to the Mayflower diner just a couple blocks down.” He stated with a smile, clearly proud of the fact that he remembered that.
Charles quickly gathered his coat and hat. “Thank you, Mr. Hicks!” he said as he rushed for the door.
“Wait, Mr. Lattimer! What about your meeting with my son?”
Charles was practically running through the door as he yelled over his shoulder, “Tell him I’ll be in touch later!”
Mr. Hicks senior watched in amusement as Charles ran down the street. “Crazy kids these days.” He said, as shook his head in wonder.
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“*****************************************************************************
Laura stepped out of the St. Louis Post and emitted a discouraged sigh. Her head hung a little lower than usual and the spring in her step had abandoned her somewhere back on fifth and main.
A sudden chill filled the air as the wind began to pick up. While the afternoon had started out as a fairly warm one, it felt like the weather was about to take a turn. She cast a glance at the sky and saw the grey clouds rolling in. “Damnation! It looks like it’s going to rain.” She thought. “Just what I need.”
Discouraged, she shook her head in disbelief. Not only was she running out of time, but she’d also made the decision to leave her umbrella at the hotel that morning. “Alright, Laura. Just one more place and then you should make your way back before you get caught in a downpour.” She said aloud, earning her a curious look from a passer by.
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“An attractive woman, in her late-thirties, reddish-brown hair, green eyes, about this tall…” Charles held his hand out so as to indicate the approximate height of Laura.
“Yes, sir.” The bus boy said. She left here about an hour and a half ago and was heading south.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“Well, she didn’t say exactly where she was going but she did ask for directions to Lafayette Avenue.”
“Lafayette Avenue.” Charles echoed. “I bet she’s headed for either the ‘Post’ or the ‘Journal’ or both” Charles deduced. “Thank you,” Charles said with a smiled. “Thank you VERY MUCH”
As Charles stepped out onto the street his mind was racing. “Okay, Charlie, think. By foot it will take at least thirty minutes to get to Lafayette Avenue. So, if you can catch a trolley… oh damn! The cars don’t run down there this time of day... maybe you can get a ride… no, that’s just stupid.”
A sudden gush of wind swept by and Charles noticed a significant drop in temperature. “Geese, looks like we’re getting a storm.” He thought.
As he cast a glance at the angry skies his breath caught in his throat. He could see the banks of black clouds rolling in as streaks of lightning shot across the sky. A sudden numbness took hold of him as it dawned on him; it was the twenty-seventh of May, eighteen ninety-six.
Charles could feel bile rise in the base of his throat as he realized what this day was, and the place it held in the history books; May 27, 1896… deadliest day in the history of St. Louis.
A chill ran down his spine that sent a shiver through him that was so cold he could feel his blood congeal.
Memories of the sketches he’d done as a favor for his friend came rushing to the forefront. The sketches were for a special edition of his friend’s magazine, commemorating the one-hundredth anniversary of the one of the deadliest tornados in U.S. history.
His chest tightened as he remembered reading the details of the storm… of the damage, the deaths, and the devastation… most of which were concentrated on the Lafayette Park and surrounding blocks… the hardest hit area... and Laura was standing directly in its path.
In a panic, Charles plunged his hand in his pocket in search of his watch. If his memory served him right, the tornado had ripped through Lafayette Park at approximately four-thirty. Dread filled his soul as he looked at his timepiece… three fifty-five.
“Oh my God!” he said. “Laura!.”
Chapter 12 <> Chapter 14
Previous Chapters
by Frakkin_Eh
Rating: K for now....
Authors notes: This story is a sequel of sorts to the Movie 'For All time' starring Mark Harmon and Mary McDonnell. It picks up in the second to last scene in the movie. If you have not seen the movie you should be able to follow the story anyway as I hope (fingers crossed on that one) that I've provided enough information in the story about what happened prior to the timeline the story takes place in. You should watch the movie though, for no other reason than it's a wonderful little movie and .. well, Mary's in it.
Huge thanks to tayryn for being my beta. Always so encouraging and the compliments are so sweet!! She called me **EVIL** this evening... if that ain't the Stanley Cup of writing then I don't know what is... heh heh heh
Chapter 13 - Angry Skies
Charles mouth watered as he touched her, caressed her… relished the salty taste of her flesh on his lips. His heart pounded and his groin ached with desire as she writhed on the sheets beneath him, begging him not to stop.
“Charles,” she moaned as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Urging him on, she answered each thrust as he took her hard and deep.
Feeling himself slowly slipping from the grasp of control he buried his face in her hair as he took her faster, harder. He cursed under his breath as he quickly approached that ever-coveted pinnacle of lust and love and all things carnal.
“Charles” she moaned again. But her tone had altered… somehow it sounded different. Charles lifted his head to find her eyes and started at the realization that the woman wasn’t Laura at all.
He pulled away quickly, shaking his head in an effort to ward off the confusion. She slowly sat up, pulling the sheets up to cover her naked body. Charles closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again to look at the woman before him. A sudden wave of relief washed over him… it was Laura.
There she was, sitting next to him, with a million questions in her beautiful green eyes. “Charles? Darling, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, honey…. Nothing at all.” He answered as he reached out to cup her cheek in his palm.
But there was nothing there.
As Charles reached for Laura his hand swept through her image as though she were mist on a mountain.
“Laura?” he called out in a desperate whisper.
And then she was gone.
“Laura!”
Charles suddenly sat upright, his body drenched in sweat. “Jesus,” he muttered as he ran a shaky hand over his face. Trembling, he scrambled from his bed and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, cupped his hand and filled it with cold water. He then bent down to splash it on his face.
As the cobwebs began to clear he exhaled a long breath. The dream had been so vivid, so clear… had felt so real. He had had dreams of Laura before, but this one… this one had left him shaken to the core.
No matter what he did he just couldn’t shed the feeling that had come over him yesterday. While the intelligent part of him knew that the woman on the street couldn’t possibly have been Laura, Charles just couldn’t quite convince his heart of it.
“Oh stop it, Charlie!” he said sternly to the mirror. “You are going to drive yourself mad if you keep this up.”
Annoyed with himself he turned off the faucet in an exaggerated motion and abruptly left the bathroom.
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Laura bustled anxiously about her room as she prepared for the day. It was still quite early, even by her standards, yet she’d already been awake for what felt like hours. While her body had been exhausted the night before, her mind just wouldn’t shut down. She’d fallen asleep quickly and slept soundly for a couple of hours. But Laura had woken in the middle of the night and tossed and turned until she’d finally given up on sleep altogether. The fatigue that lingered in her limbs was a grim reminder that she could have used a few more hours of sleep, while the nervous energy that pulsed through her veins reminded her that she had much to do.
As Laura inspected her image in the mirror she frowned at a subtle crease that ran across the skirt of her dress. “Oh dear,” She said. “I should try to get that out.”
She made her way to the bathroom, took a facecloth from the towel rack, and placed it under cold water. As she had done each time she touched the faucet, she giggled at the notion of having running water at her disposal. ”Oh how nice it would be to have this in my kitchen.” she thought.
As she ran the damp cloth over the wrinkle, in an effort to work it out, Laura chuckled to herself. “Mother would never approve of this method.”
Laura could hear the city come alive outside her window as the noise from the hustle and bustle intensified. Giving up her quest for a wrinkle free outfit, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her watch… five forty-five.
“Okay, Laura.” She said to the reflection. “If yesterday afternoon was any indication, it’s going to be one very long day. Better find a good breakfast before you hit the streets.”
“*****************************************************************************
“*****************************************************************************
Charles scanned the newspaper as he sipped the last of his coffee. His breakfast, the standard two eggs and bacon, was long gone and he sat waiting for the bill.
Giving up on the paper, he pulled a small notebook from his breast pocket. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got going on today,” he said under his breath as he began to review his notes. Nine o’clock meeting with Mr. Corrigan to discuss the look and layout of his new ad, then eleven o’clock at the bar of his hotel with Mr. Jenkins. Charles figured that would work out perfectly as this would enable him to check in and see if there were any messages. He could then make his way back out to his luncheon meeting with Mr. Goodfellow.
“Alright then.” He thought. “Let’s get at it.”
He reached into his pocket, extracted twenty-two cents and tossed it on the table. He then grabbed his hat and placed it on his head as he made his way out the door.
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“*****************************************************************************
“Lattimer. Charles Lattimer.” Laura said in frustration. Seeing the defensive look in the old man’s eyes Laura help up her hand in an apologetic gesture. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just been a long morning and I’m tired. That’s no excuse to be rude, I know, simply an explanation of sorts I suppose.”
Laura’s apology earned her a soft smile from the elder gentleman behind the counter. “It’s alright, dear,” he said, “we all have our moments.”
She smiled, acknowledging his words, as he continued. “Is he a relative of yours, this… Mr. Lattimer?”
“He’s a close friend, sir, and I am very eager to locate him.”
“I wish I could be of more help to you.” He said regretfully.
“As do I, sir.”
“Well, I do have your name,” the old man repositioned the glasses on his nose so he could review what he’d written in front of him, “Mrs. Brown. Please be assured that if he comes in I’ll be certain to let him know you were here.”
“Thank you.” She said with a tired smile.
As Laura exited the building she squinted in the harsh light of the sun. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes she noted how high it sat in the sky. “Oh my! It must be getting close to lunch time.” She thought. Her stomach let out an ungodly growl as though to drive the point home.
Reaching into her pocket she extracted her watch. Ten minutes past noon… time to find somewhere to eat. Laura didn’t have much an appetite and would have been happy to continue on with her search as opposed to taking time out to eat. But she knew she needed energy, and there was only one way to get it.
Resigned to the fact that some needs simply could not be ignored, she quickly ducked back into the small office. “I’m sorry to bother you again, sir, but can you tell me where I might find an affordable eatery?”
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“*****************************************************************************
Charles groaned inwardly when he received the message at the front desk. Mr. Hicks, owner of the St. Louis Herald, wanted to meet with him again.
“God!” Charles thought. “What is with that guy?”
To him it was cut and dry. His client could afford to spend no more than fifty cents per ad and Mr. Hicks wanted fifty-four. Charles chuckled at the notion that he’d been heckling and arguing over four cents. Sometimes he needed a pinch to remind himself of where he was.
Even in this date in time four cents wasn’t a great fortune. But, considering the number of ads his clients was willing to place in Hicks’ paper, four cents added up to a significant amount of money. And he was not going to budge.
With a smile he motioned to the clerk at the front desk, who scurried over quickly to hear his request. “Can you arrange for a message to be delivered to Mr. Hicks?” Charles asked.
“Certainly, sir. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.”
“Thank you. Tell Mr. Hicks I will gladly meet him, at his office, at three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Yes, sir” The clerk replied eagerly.
“Thanks.” Charles said, as he made his way to the street. “Okay, Charlie.” He said to himself. “You’ll have just enough time to go to your lunch meeting before you need to head down to meet with Mr. Hicks.”
“Couldn’t have timed this better if I tried,” he muttered under his breath as he made a quick right and hurried along the sidewalk.
“*****************************************************************************
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As Laura finished her soup and sandwich, she reviewed her list of papers, magazines, and other publications in the city of St. Louis. The list was larger than either she or Brigitte had anticipated. This posed a problem for Laura as there were still many places on her list and time and money were running out quickly. Dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin she could feel the sting of tears that lay beneath the rims of her eyes, threatening to emerge at the slightest invitation. She was tired, her nerves were frayed, and as each hour slipped by she was losing hope of ever finding him. “Oh, Charles, where are you?” she wondered aloud.
“You can’t let yourself get discouraged, Laura.” She scolded herself. “If you have any hopes of finding him you will need to keep a positive attitude.” Looking at her list again she decided on where she would go next. “Okay, next stop: The St. Louis Post… then if there’s time; the Lafayette Journal.” As luck would have it, they were both on the same street.
Digging into her pocket, she extracted forty cents from her dwindling fund and placed it on the table. A bus boy came by as she was adjusting her shawl over her shoulders. “Did you enjoy your meal, Ma’am?”
“Yes, thank you.” Laura replied with a smile. Just as she was about to walk out she turned to the young man, “Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to Lafayette Avenue?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He answered eagerly before proceeding to give her detailed instructions.
Laura thanked the boy as she made her way out of the diner and down the street.
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The bells jingled as Charles pulled open the door to the St. Louis Herald. An elderly gentleman, Mr. Hicks Senior, looked up from his work and greeted him with a smile.
“Good afternoon, son,” he said, “what can I do for you?”
“Well, sir, I believe I have a three o’clock meeting scheduled with Mr. Hicks.”
“I’ll let him know that you’re here, Mr.….?” the old man paused in an effort to coax Charles’ last name from him.
“Lattimer.” Charles stated. “Charles Lattimer.”
The old man nodded and then shuffled his way to the back office to fetch his son. “Hmmm, now why does that name ring a bell?” He wondered to himself. He then shook his head as he muttered. “My memory just isn’t what it used to be.”
Charles tapped his foot impatiently as he stared out the window at the people passing by. He was scanning the crowds for her, looking for her at every corner, on every streetcar, in every restaurant window he passed. “Stop it, Charlie!” He told himself for the umpteenth time.
The old man returned to his place behind the counter and gave Charles a warm smile. “He’ll be right with you, son.” He said. He then glanced down at the small piece of paper in front of him. He squinted his eyes as he tried to make out the notes he had jotted down a mere few hours before. “Mrs. Laura Brown… Charles Lattimer.”
“Aha!” Exclaimed Mr. Hicks senior. “That’s it! Mr. Lattimer!”
Charles gave him a puzzled look and then softened his expression into a sympathetic one. “Poor ole guy,” he thought. “Probably suffering from early Alzheimer’s”
The old man stood looking at him and then slowly lifted a finger and pointed it at Charles. “A young woman was in here, just a little while ago, looking for you.”
Charles smiled at him politely. “I think you must be mistaken, sir. I don’t know many people in this city. I think they must have been looking for someone else.”
“No… No, she was looking for a Charles Lattimer I’m certain of it... See, I even wrote it down here on my sheet of paper so I wouldn’t forget.” The old man gestured to the paper before him as he continued, “I wrote her name down too… let’s see…” he said as he squinted even further and tried to decipher his chicken scratch. “The name was Brown… Mrs. Laura Brown.”
Charles’ mouth went dry and he swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
The old man looked Charles square in the eye as he stated firmly. “Look, son. I may be old and I may forget things from time to time, but I don’t think I’d forget a lovely lady like that any time soon. As sure as I am standing here in front of you, a woman came in here earlier and asked if we’d had any dealings with or had heard of a Charles Lattimer. She said her name was Mrs. Brown and that she was trying to locate him.”
Charles could hardly hear the rest of what the man was saying over the sound of his heart beating. In a shaky voice he asked. “Did she say where she was going next?”
“Sure did. She asked if I could recommend a good eatery so I sent her over to the Mayflower diner just a couple blocks down.” He stated with a smile, clearly proud of the fact that he remembered that.
Charles quickly gathered his coat and hat. “Thank you, Mr. Hicks!” he said as he rushed for the door.
“Wait, Mr. Lattimer! What about your meeting with my son?”
Charles was practically running through the door as he yelled over his shoulder, “Tell him I’ll be in touch later!”
Mr. Hicks senior watched in amusement as Charles ran down the street. “Crazy kids these days.” He said, as shook his head in wonder.
“*****************************************************************************
“*****************************************************************************
Laura stepped out of the St. Louis Post and emitted a discouraged sigh. Her head hung a little lower than usual and the spring in her step had abandoned her somewhere back on fifth and main.
A sudden chill filled the air as the wind began to pick up. While the afternoon had started out as a fairly warm one, it felt like the weather was about to take a turn. She cast a glance at the sky and saw the grey clouds rolling in. “Damnation! It looks like it’s going to rain.” She thought. “Just what I need.”
Discouraged, she shook her head in disbelief. Not only was she running out of time, but she’d also made the decision to leave her umbrella at the hotel that morning. “Alright, Laura. Just one more place and then you should make your way back before you get caught in a downpour.” She said aloud, earning her a curious look from a passer by.
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“An attractive woman, in her late-thirties, reddish-brown hair, green eyes, about this tall…” Charles held his hand out so as to indicate the approximate height of Laura.
“Yes, sir.” The bus boy said. She left here about an hour and a half ago and was heading south.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“Well, she didn’t say exactly where she was going but she did ask for directions to Lafayette Avenue.”
“Lafayette Avenue.” Charles echoed. “I bet she’s headed for either the ‘Post’ or the ‘Journal’ or both” Charles deduced. “Thank you,” Charles said with a smiled. “Thank you VERY MUCH”
As Charles stepped out onto the street his mind was racing. “Okay, Charlie, think. By foot it will take at least thirty minutes to get to Lafayette Avenue. So, if you can catch a trolley… oh damn! The cars don’t run down there this time of day... maybe you can get a ride… no, that’s just stupid.”
A sudden gush of wind swept by and Charles noticed a significant drop in temperature. “Geese, looks like we’re getting a storm.” He thought.
As he cast a glance at the angry skies his breath caught in his throat. He could see the banks of black clouds rolling in as streaks of lightning shot across the sky. A sudden numbness took hold of him as it dawned on him; it was the twenty-seventh of May, eighteen ninety-six.
Charles could feel bile rise in the base of his throat as he realized what this day was, and the place it held in the history books; May 27, 1896… deadliest day in the history of St. Louis.
A chill ran down his spine that sent a shiver through him that was so cold he could feel his blood congeal.
Memories of the sketches he’d done as a favor for his friend came rushing to the forefront. The sketches were for a special edition of his friend’s magazine, commemorating the one-hundredth anniversary of the one of the deadliest tornados in U.S. history.
His chest tightened as he remembered reading the details of the storm… of the damage, the deaths, and the devastation… most of which were concentrated on the Lafayette Park and surrounding blocks… the hardest hit area... and Laura was standing directly in its path.
In a panic, Charles plunged his hand in his pocket in search of his watch. If his memory served him right, the tornado had ripped through Lafayette Park at approximately four-thirty. Dread filled his soul as he looked at his timepiece… three fifty-five.
“Oh my God!” he said. “Laura!.”
Chapter 12 <> Chapter 14
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