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    Love in Another Time
    Love in Another Time
    Love in Another Time
    Ebook120 pages1 hour

    Love in Another Time

    By Vibert Miller

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Brown-skinned author Alex is on his way to lunch with blond Barbara. He drives through a lightning storm, is caught in a time warp and is thrust back into the Jim Crow era. He has his cell phone and uses its technology to help his fellow African Americans. He is resigned to his new reality, gets married but is suddenly brought back to his own time. People from his past, now aged, begin to show up.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherVibert Miller
    Release dateMar 2, 2022
    ISBN9781005171506
    Love in Another Time
    Author

    Vibert Miller

    Vibert Miller is the author of fourteen books, msot of them romantic thrillers with a touch of paranormal and science fiction. He lives in the Pioneer Valley of Western Masssachussetts.

    Read more from Vibert Miller

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      Book preview

      Love in Another Time - Vibert Miller

      LOVE IN ANOTHER TIME

      VIBERT MILLER

      A Novella

      This book is a work of fiction. Except for historical and famous characters, all names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      Copyright @ 2019 by Vibert Miller

      All rights reserved

      Friendship is a treasure worth seeking

      V. Miller

      CHAPTER 1

      ALEXANDER Crossman was enjoying his drive down route I-95 to Miami. His ultimate destination was the Fontainebleau Hotel on Miami Beach where he was meeting a woman, he had met the night before, for lunch. Her name was Barbara Collins and he had met her at a dinner party at a friend’s house. Barbara was an attorney in New York City and had come down for some R and R. She was staying at the Fontainebleau, so it was a natural fit for Alex to meet her there for lunch. Besides, the hotel boasted one of the finest restaurants on the beach.

      Barbara was not only beautiful with long blond hair framing her face, and an athletic body, but she was also very intelligent. She was the youngest lawyer to be on a path to become a partner at her firm. She and Alex had hit it off immediately, especially when she found out he was a writer who had a best-seller, out. She had not read it but intended to. Alex was bringing a copy of the book to her as a gift.

      He had the radio tuned to a station that played the standard oldies which he enjoyed, and he was enjoying himself singing along even though he had forgotten most of the words. He was looking forward to having Barbara all to himself. He had discovered they had much in common even his preferred drink. He drank Kentucky Bourbon and was delighted to find a woman who did too. None of those sissy cocktails for her. The announcer interrupted the music to mention a rain squall was approaching but would quickly pass. This was normal for Florida. What was more distressing was the accident up ahead that had brought traffic to a standstill. Also normal for South Florida. He called Barbara to apologize that he might be a little late.

      I will get off at the next exit, he said, and work my way through the city and take the next causeway over to the beach.

      It’s not a problem, she said, there is a great clothing shop, here in the hotel and I’ve been meaning to visit it. That’s where you’ll find me. He disconnected and concentrated on his driving, watching for the next exit. The rain was letting up leaving only a slight haze. He saw the sign for North Miami and took the exit because traffic was still just inching along. He came down the ramp, passed through what looked like a thin fog bank and suddenly a bright flash of lightning blinded him. He expected a loud roar of thunder, but none came. He emerged from the fog into an area he did not recognize. There was a service station straight ahead on a cross street. He had taken this exit numerous times and he could not recall a service station there. What was more, it looked like a station from an earlier age. He pulled in to gas up and get some information. As he got out of his car and proceeded to take the pump handle, a man appeared.

      What the hell you think you doin’ boy? the man said.

      Boy? Alex was six three, two hundred and ten pounds. No one had ever called him ‘boy’ since he was a boy.

      What? Alex said.

      I said what you doin’? You ain’t allowed to touch the pump.

      Don’t you have self-service?

      What you talkin’ ‘bout? You want gas I pump it. You don’t, get the hell outta here. We don’ allow no loiterin’.

      Alex took in his surroundings. Then it hit him. On one side of the building a large sign announced, RESTROOM FOR WHITES ONLY. On the opposite side there was a small dirty shack with the sign, COLOREDS.

      Alex looked at the man. What year is this? he said.

      What year? You a grown-up man and you don’ know what year it is? What they teach you in dem colored schools? What year it is. Go on . Get outta here before I call the cops. Should call ‘em anyway. I have a feeling you stole that new car.

      Alex got in his car and drove away. The street he was on which should be crowded with apartment buildings and stores, was mostly open fields with, occasionally, ramshackle shacks. They were black children playing in yards and on the street. He was obviously in a black neighborhood. He pulled up in front of a small store and was walking to the door when he glanced to the side where a stack of newspapers lay tied in a bundle. The headlines on the top one screamed, ‘JAPAN BOMBED PEARL HARBOR. WAR DECLARED.’ So, that was the year.

      He went in the store to buy a newspaper. The owner dragged the bundle in, cut the string holding them together and handed him a paper. When he came out of the store with the newspaper under his arm, there was a small group of men and boys standing near his car. He waved to them and proceeded to get into the car.

      This your car? one of the men said.

      Yes, it is.

      Look mistuh. We don’t want no trouble with the law. We just quiet folks. We never seen a black man owning a nice, new car like this. Truth is I never seen a car like this. It stolen?

      No. This is my car, bought and paid for, Alex said.

      You not from around here. Right?

      He talks funny. I think he’s from up New York way.

      You got it, Alex said. Just passing through.

      Where you headed?

      Miami Beach, Alex said. Is there a hotel around here where I can stay for a night?

      Lots of hotels. But none that would take you.

      He can stay with Miz Jones, a boy said.

      Yeah, Miz Jones. She does boarding and lodging. Half a mile up on the right. Big white house.

      Thank you, Alex said and drove off. Alex had no idea how he became trapped in this time, but he knew he had to get out. From what he knew about the history of that decade, it was not a good time to be black in the south. The sign proclaiming Mrs. Jones’s Boarding and Lodging loomed large, ahead. It was a large house, painted white with a small flower garden in front. Alex climbed the stairs and pushed the door open. He was in a large foyer with a desk in a corner on the right. There was a bell with a sign that said he should ring for help. He rang and a matronly woman with white hair tied in a bun at the back of her neck, entered.

      Can I help you? she asked.

      Yes. I would like a room, Alex said.

      My rates are ten dollars a week for a room and another ten a week if you would like meals. Paid at the beginning of the week. How long are you staying? Mr.. . .

      West. Cody West, Alex said, not knowing where that came from.

      Cody West? Strange name for a black man, Mrs. Jones said.

      It is. But only my parents can explain, and they are both gone, Alex said.

      Well, Mr. West none of us may have explanations as why our parents give us certain names.

      Alex drew out his wallet and took out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to her.

      My oh my, she said, I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen a hundred dollars in one piece like this.

      "That will cover

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