"Sure, the first light snowfall may be a chance to dance giddily, leaving squeaky footprints through the neighborhood, marking the runner's right to the domain. But later drubbings of snow merely complicate running. Snow turns to ice, to slush, to ice again. Tire ruts twist ankles. New snow hides the hazards."—Don Kardong
January 20, 2147
Only fifty spectators remained, all standing directly in front of the stand. The guests generally wished they had dressed more warmly, since few of the ladies wore hats and everybody wanted to be able to put their arms down instead of looking like fabric sausages on international television. The presidential motorcade drove no more than two miles per hour. From the ice on the pavement, a Secret Service man fell flat on his back into a leafless hedge. He knocked another Secret Service down, who accidentally took President Warszawski with her, which launched everybody else into a tizzy. A president never fell down unless he was shot. To everybody's relief and surprise, Warszawski picked himself and the Secret Service man and woman up.
They all sludged and schloopsed to the stand. It was Warszawski's intention to take the oath on President Lincoln's Bible, but plans had to change-nobody wanted to face the wrath of the Library of Congress when they returned a 252 year old book soggy. A Congressman loaned his New Living Translation pocket Bible. Benjamin could barely hear President Warszawski's Oath of Office and inaugural address over the wind, but if the wind blew just right, he could see the First Family.
As Benjamin snuck away, he tripped over his own feet and a combination of the impact and the wind, which was difficult to breath in, knocked all the breath out of him. Before he could stand up, Warszawski pulled him upright and began to herd everybody to the visitor's foyer in the White House, yelling, "Nobody should try traveling in these conditions!"
"Me and my growth spurts," Benjamin muttered. They always made him uncoordinated.
The Secret Service disgruntledly skidded along with everybody else, worried about the change of plans that would make it very easy for somebody to attack the president, despite the fact that whoever it was probably would not be able to identify who was who, and if he could, would probably either slip while grabbing the president or the wind would blow the bullet far off course. Warszawski's tendency to personableness and helpfulness would often bother them over the next four years.
It took an hour and a half to scoot along the two miles of road. The hot foyer's air burned Benjamin's eyes (the only uncovered part of his body) and lungs, but soaked through his clothes and made his skin tingle. Within seconds, everybody's clothes dripped onto the shiny floor.
"Hello!" Warszawski said. "My wife, daughter, and the Secret Service are already mad at me, so I'd better go before they start a civil war, but you all can stay in the parts open to the public until the weather clears."
July 26, 2147
Alexander kept reading the names of the people who camped out in the foyer, hoping that he just missed Benjamin's name.
"Where's Benjamin?" Ella asked. "His grilled cheese is burned." She figured he would be hungry by the time he returned and it went against a Watts' woman's genes to let anybody leave the property hungry.
"He'll be here," Alexander said.
"You lost him?"
"No!"
"You lost him."
"I've got the portal open in the right place. He just has to show up."
"Why doesn't he?"
YOU ARE READING
Time Travel Institute (Cold Curtain)
Science FictionNo scientist takes time travel seriously. It is just too ridiculous, but of course in the 2140s, a homeschooler and publicschooler from Georgia try to invent it, and surprisingly, they succeed, and unsurprisingly, have to convince the rest of the wo...
