I looked around to see if he was talking to me. He was. I nodded that I did.

  “Come here. Come on. No charge. I want to show you a film. Check this out. You got red blood? You eat meat and potatoes? Sure you do! Come on. You’ll love it.”

  I cautiously walked through the narrow corridor and found myself in a dark room with a handful of other men while they watched as Betty Page walked out with a red sign that said BETTY PAGE on it. She placed it on an easel and began to motion to the camera. She was wearing a two-piece red outfit that looked like a bathing suit and red high heels. She was standing in front of a purple and electric blue curtain. The Betty Page sign then filled up the screen and then she appeared again. This time in a frilly black and white outfit, fresh out of a can-can show. Carnival-esque style music was playing and she began shaking her knee back and forth and then started rolling her left should round and round and giving the camera a sexy stare. Then she jumped and threw her arms and legs open. Rolling one hand and shaking one leg then the other, then shaking her hips back and forth, then moving in and leaning down to give a view of her cleavage and shaking her butt round and round behind her, while smiling to the camera, then backing up, really shaking it, showing off all she had got to offer - total burlesque! No words. Nothing but Betty Page displaying her assets and all the men around me were transfixed. It was impossible to take one’s eyes off of her. This was more than entertainment. This was what daydreams were made of! Oh, and then she came out in another outfit! She slowly took her black skirt off to reveal her sparkly panties. What a smile. She periodically winked to the camera to the audience – to the men - to us - to me! 

  I turned to leave and then man said, “Whoa! That’s just a peak. We’ve got more! A lot more! Step in there. $1.00. Watch all you want. Go ahead. You know you want to.”

  My feet kept moving forward until I was back in the street and looked up at the blue sky and then at the signs and marquees around me. The Sunshine Bar & Grill. Chevrolet! The Hotel Astor! The State Theater! A Kleenex sign! Budweiser! Live Stage Shows! There was a huge Pepsi-Cola sign.

  I walked up and down one street after another in complete and total awe as I looked and saw the marquees for first run Broadway productions such as Bus Stop, Cat on A Hot Tin Roof, Damn Yankees, Guys and Dolls, Silk Stockings, South Pacific, The Dark Is Light Enough, The Desperate Hours, The Pirates of Penzance, A Roomful of Roses, The Time of Your Life, and more and more!

  A rush of excitement zoomed through me as I walked past the Plymouth Theater on West 45th street, the Ethel Barrymore Theater on West 47th street, the Winter Garden Theater on West 50th street, the Shubert Theater on West 44th street, the Playhouse Theater on west 48th street, the Morosco Theater on West 45th street, the ANTA Playhouse on West 52nd street, the Booth Theater on West 45th street, and on and on and on. Incredible!

  As I walked on I heard radios playing from stores I passed and cars driving by. Hear and there I heard bits and pieces of Mario Lanza singing “Be My Love” and Doris Day singing “Bewitched” and Frankie Laine singing “Black Lace” and I even sang along with the Andrews Sister as I heard them sing “Here Comes Santa Clause!” What a time I was having! I wanted to start skipping down the street and clapping my hands as I heard some children on the corner listening to a radio as Eileen Barton cheerfully sang, “If I Knew You Were Comin’ I’d’ve Baked a Cake.” Wow!

  Hours went by. Hours. I should have been drained dry but I wasn’t. I was exhilarated! But, I was hungry. I was thirsty. And I could not do anything about it. Yes, I had cash in my pocket, but they were new bills from our times. If I tried to use them in the 1950’s I would have been arrested. And pulling out one of my credit cards was certainly not an option. I wanted to change my shoes. I guess more than anything, I just wanted to take a mental break, organize my thoughts, and recharge my batteries. I figured I’d head back to the Dakota. So I started walking north.

  Uncle Reese

  Please read the next letter. It is hidden in this room. Here are some clues.

  * * *

  Val,

  I reached Central Park West and slowed my pace again as I felt a slow and consistent breeze blowing out from Central Park on my right and some gusts of wind on my left as cars drove north.

  What an impact Christian Dior had on fashion back then. It really was astounding. I won’t bore you with too many details, but it was fun to see all the different styles people dressed in and styled themselves. I saw plenty of teenagers in Chuck Taylor All-Stars and Levi’s, sporting Duck’s Ass hair styles, Pompadours, and just as many with Butch cuts. I saw a few women in silk dresses with harlequin prints, and plain pencil skirts, and little girls wearing Mary Jane shoes, and a guy rode by on a Harley wearing a Perfecto motorcycle jacket, and I became self-conscious once again of my wardrobe. I looked down at my wardrobe for a moment and then glanced across the street and saw the same man in the grey suit and grey hat that I had seen earlier. He was just standing there, watching me. It made me as uneasy as it would make anyone. If there was ever an excuse to say that one was not in the right time or place to confront someone, that was certainly the time and place, so I looked straight ahead and kept on walking until I was passed him. I have no doubt that he continued to watch me as I walked further up north, but at least I did not have to risk seeing him doing so. I suspect that my outfit drew his attention. Heck, maybe he thought I was an actor in a movie. Playing a guy from the future! Wouldn’t that be funny?

  I soon found myself on the corner of Central Park West and West 72nd street.

  I looked up at the Dakota apartments. It was a feeling that can barely be described. I’ve always loved the Dakota. Always. I think many people are attracted to the building. My cousin especially. I am not sure if you ever met him or not. I hope to introduce you someday. He once told me that there were only a handful of experts in the world on the Dakota and that he was one of them, and after hearing him speak of it, you certainly would know that is the case.

  After a moment I crossed the street and walked west on 72nd street and then turned into the corridor that led to the private courtyard.

  Uncle Reese

  The next letter is located in this room. Listen to my music and hear what it can do. There's something here as strong as life. I know that it will reach you. 

  * * *

  ---------- Forwarded message ----------


  From: Val 


  Date: Fri, Jun 22, 2012 at 9:10 PM


  Subject: Uncle Reese
To:

  Dad

  Dad,

  I think I can figure this out and find out what’s going on.

  Val

  Junior Specialist, Private Sales

  Impressionist and Modern Art, Antiquities, Books, Manuscripts, and Pop Culture Memorabilia.

  * * *

  Val,

  I walked into the courtyard. The car was still there. I looked around the courtyard. No one was around. I approached the car and put my hand in my pocket. The keys were still there. I opened the car door and sat in the front seat. I gripped the steering wheel.

  There was a sealed envelope on the dashboard. Here is a copy of it.

  * * *

  Reese.

  If you are reading this letter than you have agreed to take on the journey I have suggested. That pleases me a great deal. Your father would be proud of you. When you receive this letter I will not be home. Please do not come up to my apartment. Please do not speak to security. Please do not interact with any of my neighbors. I expect to hear from you throughout your journey. You have everything you need so please turn on the ignition and begin. I look forward to hearing your stories when you return.

  Please hand the sheet music to Fats Domino and ask him to sign it. Kindly give him my friendly regards. Also, please tell Ed Sullivan to call me and remind Bo Diddley that I need the guitar back that I loaned him.

  Drive safely.

  Teal

  * * *

&nbs
p; Inside the folder I found the following:

  Several maps of the United States. Many of the roads are highlighted, clearly dictating the ones I should take.

  A lot of cash.

  Several legal documents with my name and photo on it, including a Driver’s License and Passport. According to them, I was born in Manhattan in 1930.

  Self-Addressed Stamped Envelopes to send to: Teal Vetrim. 1 West 73rd Street. NYC 10012.

  Books of stamps so that I may send him postcards from every city along the way.

  List of subjects to discuss in Letters & Postcards to him, mainly discussing the great music that I will be listening to on the radio.

  A key to an apartment. There was an attached tag that stated the room was in the Chelsea Hotel. I found a short note that assured me not to concern myself with the monthly bill.

  A handful of tickets to concerts around the U.S.A. where I could see Buddy Holly, Elvis, Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, and more.

  I remained motionless for a couple of moments, clearing my mind of all that happened before I woke up. I wanted to start fresh. A clean slate. Tabula rosa. My eyes opened. I not glance around. I focused straight ahead. I put the key in the ignition. It was too quiet. I reached forward and turned on the radio. “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White” began to play. I quickly changed the channel and heard the Platters sing “The Great Pretender.” I closed my eyes and listened to the song. When it ended I turned the radio off. I turned the ignition. Heard the engine roar. I opened my eyes. I was still there. What year was it? The Dakota’s courtyard has essentially looked the same for 100 years, give or take some cleaning, painting, and so on. I was afraid to turn the engine off. If I did I would have had to open the door. I would have had to put my feet back on the pavement. What year was I in? What was real? What wasn’t? I did not know. I figured there was one way to find out. I put the car in gear, put my food on the gas pedal and began to drive. I turned around and drove through the vestibule, leaving the Dakota behind. I had a long drive ahead of me. In the morning I was in your time, but in the afternoon I was in the 1950’s. Yes, it is true. I looked down at all the items Teal had given me, and then looked around the Dakota courtyard. I put the car in gear and I started driving to New Orleans.

  Hey, that would be a great name for a song.

  Uncle Reese

  p.s. Something’s coming. Somewhere. Tonight. Just play it cool.

  * * *

  From: Val 


  Date: Fri, Jun 22, 2012 at 10:30 PM


  Subject: It’s me. Val.


  To: Roman

  Riley,

  All right, I’ll do it. We only have each other now.

  V

  Junior Specialist, Private Sales

  Impressionist and Modern Art, Antiquities, Books, Manuscripts, and Pop Culture Memorabilia.

  SENT FROM MY PHONE

  * * *

  Val,

  The reason you are reading these words is because I have disappeared. There is a very good chance that your father has disappeared, too as he came looking for me. The fact of the matter is that he and your mom are the only other people to know about what I have been able to do. With the exception of Teal and anyone Teal may have told, of course. Chances are that I am not in any danger, but something likely happened to Teal and I have not been able to get into his apartment in the Dakota to return to the present. I am writing these letters to you in case this ever happened and clearly it has. I do not know the secret code to get into Teal’s apartment and I have no way to break in without getting arrested.

  Teal and I have discussed this in the past and he concluded that he and I should put a series of clues in my journals that my brother would find. I cannot reveal what the secret code is because Teal never told me. He simply guided me here and there during my writing, telling me about specific words, items to add to the scrapbook, ideas to alter my sketches, and so on, that my brother would know how to figure out. If you are reading this then your father has not been able to get to these letters and journals and is counting on you to figure them out. I am sure you can. I have always had a lot of confidence in you.

  Once you have figured out the code, which I assume includes a way for you to get into the Dakota and to his apartment, it likely makes sense that you will be able to enter Teal’s secret chamber and travel back in time, to where I am, and find me. Once done, you and I will be able to return to the future – the present – together.

  Before you do anything else, please go to the Dakota and see if you can find Teal. Ask security. Ask his neighbors. Ask around. Keep trying to get in touch with your father or mother. If all that fails, please read the journals and find the clues that were hidden from even me, for the benefit of security.

  While doing so, please take your time while enjoying my journals and ask yourself questions. What is the value of the past? What is the value of reflecting back? Why do people save things? Why do people buy memorabilia from the past? What are they really buying? My quest has never been to simply find valuable items and resell them to the person who would pay the fair market value - or more. My quest was to put warmth in people's hearts. I found and sold things that made people smile.

  When I was 19 I knew a girl who looked at me with her beautiful blue eyes in such a way that - there was a sparkle. I can't imagine anyone else saw it. Maybe she was not even conscious of it. But it was there. For a moment that is so fast that it could not register with any technology. It could only be seen – and recognized - by the eyes of the person she looked at. That was me. It was there. I see it still. And the smile. The smile that was there. The slight flush of rose that appeared on her cheeks. What a sight. I wish it upon everyone in the world. Even if it is just for a moment. Everyone should know what it is like to have someone look at him or her in that way. Even if it is just for a moment. Even if it never happened before and never happens again. Even if it was just for a brief moment when one is 19. It is magic. It can sustain one who never knows love ever again. Yes, it can sustain them for the rest of their lives. Once someone loves you in that way, they cannot UNlove you. Even if they say they never did. Even if he or she walks out the door on a rainy night and never returns. That person can raid the bank account. They can take the furniture. They can take albums, 8-track tapes, cassettes, CD's, MP3 player, anything. They can pack it all in a box and haul it away. But they can't take away that look they once gave you. They put it into your heart. It entered through your eyes. Yes, it is in your heart and that is where it shall remain.

  I see variations of that look whenever one enters my store and browses through my cases, looks around my counters, scans my walls, and then their eyes settle upon something they have not seen in years - many years. But it was never the actual item that they saw. Sure, they were looking at it. They touched it. They looked up and down. They appraised it and compare it to the one they had or saw many years ago. But it was NOT the item they saw. What they saw was a moment from their past. They were shuttled back to a happy moment. They heard the music. They smelled the candy and popcorn. They heard mom calling them in for dinner. They remembered their bicycle. They remembered the sneakers they wore and how they felt. They saw their childhood home – or another home. Their ear muscles moved slightly as they remembered hearing an old phone ring. The barking of a dog. The meowing of a cat. A bird flew by. It all rushed at them like a torrential flood. They always get hit fast. It lasts a moment. It lasts forever. All because of something they saw that I displayed. What a feeling of warmth that rushes over them. It is better than laying in the sun. It is better than splashing in the water on a hot summer day. It is better than a massage. It is better than climbing into bed on a cool Spring night, with the windows open. They are filled with such warmth and they want it to last. And they think it can. And it can. It'll last for a while and then it'll come in waves every time they see the item. They must have it. The warmth will last. The smile will reappear. Maybe they'll show it to othe
rs and they will smile together. Maybe they'll laugh.

  And all this for a simple exchange of money. So, you see, I am not in the business of selling "old stuff." I sell elixirs that make hearts flutter, make mouths smile, make eyes sparkle. Sure, they look like posters, buttons, books, lunch boxes, vinyl albums, pieces of paper, toys, to you and me. But they are disguises. They are not what they appear to be.

  My prices are fair. I make sure they are fair. But I could charge more. A lot more. Because what I offer my customers is beyond price. Can one go home again? Yes. One can. I show people how.

  I guess what it all comes down to is that I always wanted to look forward to waking up in the morning. I wanted to be excited about my day. I wanted to be so thrilled at the end of the night that I could barely sleep. That's what I wanted. And guess what? That's how I am now. And I did not learn how to do it in high school, or college, or in any books. I learned it by realizing that all things were temporary. Including my life. And now here I am. And there you are. And you are reading my words. So I guess I have now become what I have always looked for in others. I hope to have a positive impact on people's lives. I hope you are one of those people. I'd like to be remembered for that.

  I’d like to tell you some stories. I’d like to share my stories with the world. I’d like to come home. I need your help. Please read my journals. Please figure out the clues.