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Worthington somehow
having an effect and exposing Joey to the type of man he really
was; a bum from the neighborhood. The thought brought anger and
shame.
    He had to meet McKeen at two o'clock. Getting
there early was his plan. Joey knew he wanted to have time to look
the carriage over and he didn't want McKeen anywhere near the mill
while it was still there.
    At least he had some bread now. He was near
tapped out. Joey pulled the envelope out and counted, it would do,
enough to pay the rent and some left over for groceries. He tucked
the envelope back in his pocket and strolled to his
bike.
    ****
    Catherine walked the aisles of the lending
library. She was in awe. Any citizen could come in, fill out a
form, get a card, and borrow any book. Well Joey told her
there was a limit and it would be hard to carry a pile books on his
motorized cycle.
    Joey stood at a nearby table and gazed at a
large tome. A couple of women giggled and pointed at him while
blatantly admiring his form. Catherine shook her head, not much had
changed through the ages. She had observed the exact behavior many
times at a dance or ball when a handsome man would arrive. Granted,
it was rare. None looked as fine as Joey, though the men in the
carriage were quite the male specimens. Even the older man who
looked ill and sported a touch of silver at his temples had been
very attractive.
    Good heavens, what had happened to all the
men? Were they trapped or asleep in time as she was? Catherine
felt an overwhelming concern for them all, the driver and horses
included. It was the reason she had wanted to stop at the church,
to say a prayer for everyone's safety. Perhaps it was selfish but
she also said an extra prayer for herself and her safe return home.
Joey called her name in a soft, sensual whisper. He waved her over
to the table.
    "Look, here's a map of Canada." He flipped the
page of the atlas. "This is the province of New Brunswick and this
is Saint John on the Bay of Fundy. This is where we're at. Show me
where you're from."
    Catherine sat down her few books and turned
the pages until she found Great Britain. She pointed to the
southern tip. "This is Cornwall and my village is here on the south
east coast. St. John has only a few hundred people but I adore the
place, it is my home."
    Joey covered his hand over hers and squeezed
gently. "I know. You want to go home."
    His words were assuring but she began to doubt
ever returning to the comfort and safety of her home and her
century.
    ****
    Joey dropped Cathy back at his apartment and
turned on the radio. He instructed her to sit tight and look at her
books while he was gone. It was one thirty and he had to get down
to the mill before shithead McKeen showed up.
    Tearing into the lot and leaving a trail of
gravel and dust behind him, he hit the kickstand and turned off his
bike. Stuffing the keys in his pocket, Joey walked into the mill.
There stood the carriage where it appeared yesterday. He looked
underneath and then climbed on top and gazed inside. Completely
empty, no trunks, luggage, nothing. This was the real deal, not a
reproduction. There was a gigantic hole in the roof of the mill and
sunshine poured in and covered the carriage with an eerie
illumination.
    Joey's schooling stopped at fifteen but he
wasn't stupid and he read a lot. Thinking this out with logic and
common sense, this carriage must be a receptacle or vessel through
time. It reminded him of the Rod Taylor movie 'The Time Machine',
so what was the thing waiting for? Would the coach return back to
Cathy's time or go somewhere else? He scratched his head in
puzzlement. Or maybe it wasn't capable of going anywhere else.
Maybe this was a one-way trip.
    He thought back to a TV show that used to be
on, 'The Time Tunnel'. He smiled as he recalled some of the opening
narration. 'Two American scientists are lost in the swirling
maze of past and future ages-' He had thought it was way cool.
Now he was caught up in a time travel adventure of