Free Looking for a Hero by Patti Berg Page B

Kate and Casey. In the past he would have made his way to a public house when he had first entered port. He’d order up a rum and spend the night in some accommodating wench’s bed. But that’s not what he wanted now.
    He wanted to know more about this strange city of St. Augustine, how it had changed and why. And he wanted to learn these things from the guardian angel who spoke with all the fire of hell.
    He had to find her.
    The streets were teeming with people, and many of those hellish contraptions he’d seen on the bridge rolled past him so quickly they seemed little more than a blur, like the slash of a blade, and he imagined stepping in front of one would be just as deadly.
    If not for the heat of the sun on his face, the jabs of shoulders and elbows as he brushed through the crowds, he might believe he was trapped in a nightmare. But the thick, humid air was something he knew quite well, and the scents of seafood and pastries wafting out of unfamiliar shops made him remember his hunger, the gnawing in his belly that was nearly as strong as the now returned pain in his head.
    But still he pressed on.
    He should have caught up with Casey and Kate, but too many sights and sounds got in the way. Fascinating things that made his head spin, like the great winged object flying high over his head. It tore his attention from everything else as it sailed like a silver phantom across the sky, then disappeared behind the clouds.
    Other things caught his eye, too, like the glowing signs at street corners directing people when to walk and when not to, as if they had not the intelligence to know.
    â€™Twas all most amazing.
    A woman breezed past him clothed in tight blue trousers, another rushed by in little more than a thin chemise. Backing against a wall, he wondered at their propriety, while admiring their charms, and decided that there was much to appreciate in this odd and wondrous city.
    Again he stepped out into the throngs, stopping abruptly when a heavy wooden door opened directly in front of his face. A man and woman exited, arm in arm, but he paid them little attention. Instead, he concentrated on the sign posted on the door that clearly read, “Established 1790.”
    Impossible! It was 1702, and he refused to believe anything different. His mind screamed at him to believe the truth—St. Augustine had changed far too dramatically for only one short year to have elapsed.
    But how could ninety years have gone by?
    â€™Twas impossible.
    And frightening.
    He stumbled on, twisting and turning in an effort to take in every curious and astonishing sight.
    He’d once read the theories of great men like Galileo and Newton who talked of the stars and motion and time. He had conversed with scholars at Oxford who’d spent hour upon hour discussing the philosophies of astronomers and academics. They had claimed time travel was possible, but no one had claimed to know how such a miraculous event could be accomplished, and they refused to espouse their thoughts to the world for fear they’d be laughed at. Of course, daVinci’s theories about flying machines had been scoffed at, and now he’d seen one for himself. He’d also seen the amazing material that made up the hull and mast of Kate’s sailboat, not to mention the carriages that moved rapidly along the streets, seemingly of their own accord.
    Perhaps time travel was possible, after all.
    â€œWatch it, mister,” a red-faced, overfed man barked, when Morgan bumped into him head on.
    â€œMy apologies, sir.” Morgan stared directly into the man’s eyes, wondering if the human anatomy might also have changed over the years, but he saw nothing new or different. What he did see was anger.
    â€œDo you mind moving out of my way?” the man bellowed.
    â€œCould you answer one question for me first?” Morgan asked, only to be met with the roll of the man’s eyes.
    â€œI’m in a