Mr. Dickens and the Time Travelers

By Alan Theodore

WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF YOU MET DAVID COPPERFIELD?

Two 21st century teenagers have that opportunity in MR. DICKENS AND THE TIME TRAVELERS

Vicki and Ollie, brainy teenagers from Dubuque Iowa defy logic and also gravity when they somehow or other manage to travel back in time to Victorian England and meet their favorite author, Charles Dickens and some of his favorite characters. A gracious host, he takes the twin siblings under his wing and gives them a never-to-be-forgotten
tour of London, including a visit to the first worlds fair, the Crystal Palace Exhibition of 1851, displaying
the scientific and industrial marvels of the age; an audience with their majesties, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, a public reading by Mr.Dickens in which he impersonates some of his favorite characters.

But will Vickie and Ollie ever get back to the 21st century? Or are they destined to live out heir lives more than a century before they were born?

Turn the page to find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463425180

Alan Theodore

I was born in New York Citry but grew up in a suburban community on Long Island. In elementary and high school,my interests were history and English. Started reading the novels of Charles Dickens when I was twelve and through the years I've read most of them. In the army during WWII but never got overseas. After the war I attended NYU , studying marketing and journalism After graduating, I worked for three years in Washington as a feature writer for the U.S. Information Agency which had been formed to counter Soviet propaganda during the cold war. Among the variety of my assignments was writing the script for a graphic novel titled "Red star Over Islam" which described Soviet infringment on the practice of religion in the Soviet central Asian republics, and a scholarly monograph on the economy of the Peoples Republic of North Korra. After three years in this job, I returned to New York. working for the remainder of my career as a copywriter,later copy chief, for ad agencies with pharmaceutical and healthcare accounts. During this period, I developed and presented a course in medical copywriting at the NYU School of Continuing Education. And, as a freelance assignment from Chelsea House Publishers, I wrote a volume for their Encyclopedia of Psychoactive Drugs","The Origins and Sources of Drugs." When my wife and I moved to the mid-Hudson valley, we participated in the founding of the Lifetime Learning Institute at Bard College and we both presented courses there. I was a regular conributor to JOSLINS JAZZ JOURNAL and THE SIDNEY BECHET QUARTERLY of articles on jazz and pre-rock popular music. I am married to Harriet Hoffman , a retired psychotherapist, and I am the father of a grownson and daughter from a previous marriage.

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© 2011 by Alan Theodore. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 06/30/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4634-2519-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-2518-0 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011910576

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Introduction

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

EPILOGUE

Introduction

My uncle Leon was a fanatic about Charles Dickens.

I mean a real fanatic. He read every one of Dickens’ novels, from Pickwick Papers to the Mystery of Edwin Drood. And he turned me onto them.

At ten I went from Tom the Bootblack by Horatio Alger to David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. And I never stopped until I had read through the last of Dickens’ works, the aforementioned Edwin Drood.

Drood is frustrating to read because Mr. Dickens died before completing it. The reader never finds out who done it. You may want to skip that one.

If you are into science fiction, you may have learned about time travel from the fascinating novel Time and Again by Jack Finney.

That is how Ollie and Vicki, the teenagers in my book, learn about going back in time, and since they are already fans of Dickens, they decide to travel back a century or two and meet the man himself.

I hope you enjoy the book. If you do, you can thank Mr. Dickens, Mr. Finney—and oh yes—Uncle Leon.

I

It was a beautiful spring day in London. Beautiful, that is for London. The rain had abated, and there was a hint, a tiny hint, of the sun trying to peep through from behind a cloud. The door opened at One Devonshire Terrace, a two-storied house on Marylebone Road, and out stepped Mr. Charles Dickens, the distinguished author. He was in middle age, perhaps 40, sported a full beard, black with strands of gray, that hid the bottom half of his face except for a mouth curved upward in a smile. On his head he wore a stovepipe hat perched at a jaunty angle. Though the rain had stopped, he carried a furled umbrella, for Englishmen must be prepared at all times for inclement weather.

Dressed like the perfect Victorian gentleman he was, Mr. Dickens was clad in a black tail coat over a vest cut of the same cloth. From the vest hung a gold chain with a gold watch at one end that fit snugly into a vest pocket.

As Mr. Dickens strolled, he thought about the novel he was about to write. It will be about the law, about a lawsuit contesting a will that goes on year after year. Never getting settled, impoverishing all that are connected with it, except the lawyers. I’d like to call it The Law is an Ass, which is what I feel about law courts, but that is much too vulgar for the times we live in. I’ll call it…

Mr. Dickens’ thoughts were interrupted by a strange sight. Walking on the opposite sidewalk were a boy and girl, both about 12 years of age. What startled Mr. Dickens was the way they were dressed.

Not like proper English children. English school boys who would be wearing formal suits—miniature versions of what their Papas wore. And the girls would be dressed like grownup ladies, perhaps in crinoline dresses adorned with ribbons, with lace bonnets perched on their heads held in place by ribbons tucked under their chins.

Not these two. The boy wore baggy trousers two sizes too large for him, blue in color of a rough woolen weave. And a short sleeved top that carried had imprinted on it the words ELVIS LIVES!

The girl wore not a dress but trousers. The trousers were made of the same blue rough woolen weave, only not baggy but tight fitting so that the outlines of her limbs were clearly discerned. This was a mild shock for Mr. Dickens, as Victorian ladies for all he could tell, didn’t have legs. Their voluminous skirts and petticoats made their anatomy a mystery.

Look! the girl exclaimed, pointing at Dickens. I’ve seen a picture of that man on the wall in Barnes and Noble. That’s Charles Dickens!

Oh yeh, the boy replied. Didn’t he write the movie David Copperfield?

You are an ignoramus, replied the girl. Mr. Dickens wrote the novel that was made into a movie. Besides, movies weren’t invented in those days. Dickens lived over a century ago.

Just kidding. You know he’s my favorite author.

Look! said the girl, changing the subject, he’s staring at us.

Mr. Dickens suddenly became aware that he was now the object of the children’s curiosity. He was a little ashamed of his rude staring, and tried to make amends by tipping his hat and bowing.

Thus encouraged, the boy and girl crossed Marylebone Road and approached him.

Hello, Mr. Dickens, said the girl. You look just like your pictures. I loved Old Curiosity Shop. I cried so when Little Nell died. But my favorite is David Copperfield. My name is Vicki, Victoria Esther Rollins.

Vicki—that’s Victoria, the name of our queen, responded Mr. Dickens. But I am intrigued with your costumes. Who are you supposed to be? Are you on the way to a fancy dress party?

Costumes? replied the boy, this is what we wore to Dubuque Junior High every day until they made us get uniforms.