Jack to the Future: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Travelers through Space

“How about The Tailor?” Wade asked Jack as they drove along the countryside.

“What?” Jack asked.

“For my nickname, The Tailor.  It’s not quite as badass as The Butcher, but it’s got that double meaning of, you know, how much tail I get.”

“I’m with you nearly twenty-four hours a day.  When in the world are you getting tail?”

“I get enough.  Besides, if I can make that my name, maybe word’ll get around and increase my chances.”

“Right.”

“So?” Wade asked in a long drawn out sound.

“So what?”

“The Tailor.  What do you think of it?”

“Fine, if you need a nickname, go with The Tailor.  It could be worse.”

“Not exactly the type of response I was hoping for.  I’ll come up with something better.”

“On to more important things,” Jack changed the subject.  “Do you have any clue of where we’re going?”

“Yeah, to The Bowery.  South of the—“

“I know where The Bowery is, I mean, do you have any clue of how to get there?  It’s not like we’ve got the Turnpike or anything to go by.  Hell, do you even have any clue of how to get onto Manhattan?  I can’t imagine the tunnels have been built yet.”

“They have to have bridges already, don’t they?”

“I don’t know.  Also, there aren’t any freaking road signs, how do you know where to go?”

“We’re in Newark, pal.  How hard can it be to drive east until you hit the water?”

“I guess we’re going to find out.”

 

The pair drove for a time, Wade appearing to have gotten misdirected on a number of occasions, causing them to have to double back, before they came upon a great mass of water and saw, on the other side, the unmistakable skyline of Manhattan.

“Look, I told you I could find it.”

“Yeah, it only took you three hours to make a forty-five minute trip.  Heck, there’s no traffic out here, probably should have only been 20 minutes.”

“You know, I think I’d be a lot more grateful if I were you.”

“Grateful for what?  That I have to go back in time to face off against some dude who calls himself The Butcher because your future self couldn’t stay out of trouble?”

“Well, I was going to say that I got you here without running out of gas or anything, but yeah, that too.  I mean, think of the adventure we’re having!”

“I’d much rather be home.”

“Yeah, you always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

“You’re pathetic.  So, any ideas on how we’re going to cross the Hudson?”

“This is all your idea, why don’t you come up with something?”

A loud horn sounded in the distance, causing the two to look for the source of it.  A large boat floated across the water.  A big grin grew on Wade’s face.

“Of course, the ferry!” Wade exclaimed.

Jack groaned.

“Come on, I’ve always wanted to ride the ferry.”

“And I’ve told you that the ferry is a terrible place which reeks of piss and old men and is filled with all sorts of obnoxious tourists.”

“But we’re like a hundred years or something in the past.  Maybe it doesn’t smell like that yet.”

Jack groaned again.

“Come on, Jack.  It’s not like you have any better ways to get across.  You don’t want to swim it, do you?”

“Fine,” Jack gave in.  “But I want it on record how I’m against every portion of this little trip.  If anything bad happens, if I get mugged or killed or touched inappropriately, I’m holding it all against you for all time.”

“Yay!” Wade cheered.  “The ferry!”

Wade drove up closer to the waterfront and spied a dock to the north.  And within minutes they arrived at their destination.  As they found a place to park, hidden among some trees, Jack spoke up in surprise.

“Wade!” Jack announced.  “How in the world are we going to pay for the ferry?”

“I’ve got a twenty.  You think that will be enough?”

“I don’t think it matters how much money we have, it’s not going to look like the money they have today.  There’s no way they’re going to accept it.”

“Oh, yeah.  I didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah, and do you have any idea what they do to counterfeiters in the 1800s?”

“No, what?”

“No clue, but I can’t imagine it’s good.”

“Okay, so what do we do?”

“I don’t know, maybe we can—“

A man approached them, wearing the garb of the men they had seen in Newark, same pants tucked into the boots and stovepipe hat.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.  Would you happen to be Wade Skeeler?”

“Um, yeah,” Wade replied tentatively.

The man held out two small pieces of paper.  “The Butcher said you may be in need of these.”

Wade took the paper from the man’s hand and the man walked away without another word.

“This Butcher guy has really thought of everything, hasn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

“He got us ferry tickets.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack responded sarcastically, “he seems like a really thoughtful guy.”

“Shall we?” Wade said, his grin returning.

“I guess if we have no other options,” Jack frowned.

Wade handed Jack one of the slips of paper and skipped off toward the dock.  Jack followed behind him slowly.