Timeless {ON HOLD and EDITING}

Chapter 1

Charles' POV:

"I'm not sure if you'll be back tomorrow, just come by in the morning and see!" Mrs. Forenski exclaims as I leave. I look back and wave, "Will do ma'm!"

I leave the bakery with a bag filled with fresh pastries to deliver. This isn't my main job, but it helps pay the rent along with my other side jobs. Whenever Mrs. Forenski is backed up on orders, I go to help catch her up. During the holidays, I always have work because of Mrs. Forenski. Thank God for her! I also work for anyone else. If someone has a house they need to paint, they get me. If a restaurant just needs help cleaning, I'm there.

I do all that when I'm not working at my main job; when I'm the "assistant." Dr. Klausen is a very generous man, giving me days of rest. Although if I ever see the landlord, why I otta... "Hey Harrison, you zozzled?" I looked up to see my neighbor, William, on the fire escape. "Look you wurp, I've laid off of the giggle water!" We both share a quick laugh before I start my deliveries.

"Oh Charlie, thank you so much for my sinkers!" Mrs. Jameson hands me a 30 cent tip as she takes the donuts from my hand. "It's my pleasure Mrs. Jameson." I walk out of the apartment, and head back to the bakery to give Mrs. Forenski the dues for the desserts. "Here's your voot ma'm," I hold out the money to Mrs. Forenski. "Oh Charles, thank you so much for doing my extra orders!" She in return hands me back six dollars. "Mrs. For-" She puts up her hand, "Don't say anything, just take the 'voot' as you children say nowadays!" I smile and take the money, "Thank you."

Just enough to make rent. Thanks to everyone willing to let out a couple cents and dollars, I can sleep soundly tonight.

I stuff all the money in an envelope to give to the collector tomorrow, and I start cooking my dinner. It's been like this for a couple years now. My father died in WWI, and my ma died because of the influenza. I was only 14 by the end of the war, so I couldn't really volunteer for it. It's been five years now, and I can finally support myself. I've also managed to maintain a courtship through all these monetary struggles! Anne Marie is the most splendid girl there is, and I hope that soon we'll be engaged. I have 40 dollars saved up, and hopefully I'll at least be able to buy a simple ring for her.

The next day I head to Dr. Klausen's at 5 in the morning sharp. He's an underground scientist, and I'm not kidding. His lab is literally under New York City! I have to go through a manhole just to get to it. There's a whole science community down there, and it's really fascinating! I walk by all the different labs in the tunnels. In one, there's a man who is experimenting with different chemicals to make plants grow faster. It seems like a reasonable idea, but I'm not sure if it'll work out. In another area, there's a whole team also working with plants and chemicals, but this is for medicinal cures. I'm sure some day they'll come up with a concoction to save people from the influenza, so people don't have to go through what many others did.

One benefit the scientists get from building their labs underground is that they have lots of test subjects. Rats are crawling around everywhere. Although, some scientists do hire people to help with their work. They get paid fairly well; 8.75-10 dollars a week! They are risking their lives to help further science, so of course those assistants deserve the money! Then there's the type of 'assistant' that I am. I run the errands, help pass tools, fix any small malfunctions going on with the machines, and fill in for the other assistants. My boss is generous enough to give me 9 dollars a week, even if I just sit there handing him wrenches, or make sure he does his math correctly.

"Is it okay if I leave in about two hours? I have to go to Mrs. Forenski's to see if she has any deliveries that need to be made." Dr. Klausen was so engrossed in his work, it took him five minutes to realize I was there. "Oh, sorry Charles. Yes, you may dismiss yourself when you deem it the right time to go." I nod my head and continue helping. Moments later, Dr. Klausen asks me a strange question. "Do you believe in alternative realities?" I look at him in disbelief for a moment, but quickly recover. "Well, it doesn't sound too reasonable," I respond. He pauses for a moment, and the look on his face suggests he's having a hard time organizing his thoughts. It's the same look I get when trying to finish a poem, or when I can't figure out the missing detail of a story or painting. "Sir, I should be going to Mrs. Forenski now." Klausen snapped out of his trance and nodded, "Yes, of course."