MR. CHICKEE OPENED the door to his home and said, “Welcome!”
Steven, being the great detective that he was, noticed something odd and said, “Mr. Chickee, this looks exactly like your place in Flint!”
“Yes, Steven, that was done deliberately. In the beginning it made it much easier on me when I went to Yourside if I was already familiar with everything.”
Steven said, “The only difference is that the table where you used to keep your sound system is empty.”
“Not really, we have a different type of technology here. I don't mean to be curt, Steven, I hope well have plenty of time to discuss this later; now, however, we must get moving quickly.”
Russell said, “Yeah, we really need to move fast, Mr. Chickee. All I want to do is find Rodney Rodent and get back to Flint in time for dinner. Have you and Ms. Tiptip seen a real shy, little, nervous-acting dog?”
Mr. Chickee and Ms. Tiptip looked at each other. She said, “Yes. Russell, the animal you call Rodney Rodent came through here yesterday, but he's gone back home.”
Steven moaned, “You mean we let that gnome grab us for nothing? Rodney Rodent is safe? He's already back in Flint?”
“No. He is safe, but he's back at his other home, his home here in Ourside.”
Mr. Chickee said, “Rodney Rodent was sent to Flint to lead you to us. You coming here was no accident.”
He sighed. “This is kind of complicated and contains a lot of new information, so maybe you boys should have a seat before the brain freeze sets in again.”
Steven said, “Boys? What about her?”
He looked at Richelle. “I'll sit if I can sit next to my darl—”
Richelle balled her hand into a fist and Steven quickly looked the other way.
He told himself, “No looking! No looking! Very important!”
He and Russell sat down on a couch in front of Mr. Chickee's empty round coffee table.
Mr. Chickee said, “Your adventure with the quadrillion-dollar bill was a test designed to see if you were capable ofcompleting a series of missions that the Old Souls have set up for you. It was felt if you could pass that test, then you might be able to help us understand the prophecies of the Chronicles of Zornea-Hu. And Steven, I must say we were quite worried for a while, but you did enough things properly with the mystery of the quadrillion-dollar bill to pass.”
Steven puffed his chest and started to look at Richelle to make sure she was hearing all of this, but Russell slapped the back of his head and said, “Please, don't look at her, Bucko, please don't shame yourself any more than you did already.”
Mr. Chickee continued, “You didn't do great, but you did pass, just barely.”
“Mr. Chickee!” Steven said. “We did better than barely pass, you can ask the feds in Washington. Madam Director knows the Flint Future Detectives solved the mystery of the quadrillion-dollar bill.”
Ms. Tiptip said, “Actually you solved only a portion of it, but Mr. Chickee argued so strongly in your defense that the rest of the Old Souls gave you a pass.”
“A pass? I didn't even know I was taking a test, and who are the Old Souls?”
“It's a group of people here in Ourside who have come together to try to save our world.”
“Save it?”
“Yes,” Mr. Chickee said, “save it. Sad to say, but what you see around you is a dying world.”
He showed them his wrist. There was another one of theOops-a-Daisies there, but this one read thirty-two days, seventeen hours and forty-eight seconds.
Richelle said, “Are you saying that's all the time that Ourside has left before it dies?”
“That's it. If the mystery isn't solved by the time this Oops-a-Daisy zeroes out, the Chronicles of Zornea-Hu predict our destruction will be unstoppably set in motion.”
Ms. Tiptip said, “Ah, Othello, they seem like such nice children, but those looks! Have you ever seen such expressions of confusion? Play the Holo-Vision for them, it's only fair that we flum-flub them to make sure they're completely informed. Especially since we are asking them to risk their lives.”
None of the Flint Future Detectives said anything, but each one was thinking, “Risk our lives?”
Richelle looked at Russell, then at Steven.
Russell looked at Steven, then at Richelle.
Steven, who was slowly smartening up, looked at Russell, then at the floor in front of Richelle.
Mr. Chickee said, “Of course you're right, Naomi. Children, please make yourselves comfortable and watch the tableau there.”
He pointed at the round coffee table where Steven and Russell were sitting. “I'll turn on the Holo-Vision and all of your questions will be answered.”
Mr. Chickee clapped his hands twice and the lights in the room dimmed.
Russell said, “Mummy has a Clapper to turn off the lights too.”
“Yes, Russell, it's brilliant, isn't it? It's on the list of the top ten things ever invented in Yourside.”
Russell said, “Really? Is the magic U on the list too?”
Ms. Tiptip said, “The magic U? I'm not familiar with that. Dictionary?”
Great-great-grampa Carter's thumb drive dictionary said, “I'm drawing a big blank on the term, Ms. Tiptip. And considering the person who asked the question, I think perhaps this is something we might not want to pursue.”
Ms. Tiptip said, “No, I'm not familiar with the term ‘magic U’ and would like to know what it means.”
Russell said, “Yeah, Ms. Tiptip, it should be on the list of greatest inventions too, Mummy invented it. If you're not at home and you've gotta use the bathroom, you need to make a magic U.”
Steven sighed. “Russell, maybe you can tell them about this later.”
Ms. Tiptip said, “No, I'd like to hear about this if it doesn't take too long. What exactly is the magic U and what does it have to do with using the bathroom, Russell?”
“Mummy told me if you're not at home and have to use a strange toilet, you've got to be real careful 'cause they have a ton of germs and cooties on them. The only way to keep those things from jumping on you and making you sick is by taking three sheets of toilet paper and putting them on the seat in the shape of a upside-down U. For some reason the germs and cooties and junk can't get at you because the U is magic and stops everything from attacking you when you sit down.”
Mr. Chickee and Ms. Tiptip both began blinking rapidly. It seemed the Flint Future Detectives weren't the only people who could look very, very confused very, very quickly.
Great-great-grampa Carter's thumb drive said, “I'd never stoop to saying ‘I told you so,’ so instead I'll quote one of my favorite Yourside situation comedies, ‘Uh toad uh so!’ ”
After a few seconds Mr. Chickee said, “Perhaps we should just watch the Holo-Vision.”
He clapped twice again and a man the exact height of a can of soup appeared in the middle of the table.
He bowed elegantly and said, “Welcome, one and all.”
Russell and Steven were amazed!
Richelle, on the other hand, was not so impressed.
“Oh,” she said, “I get it! Holo-Vision stands for ‘holography vision.’ ”
Ms. Tiptip said, “Actually, my dear, it's quite a bit more complicated than mere holography, and what you're seeing is much more than a hologram.”
Russell said, “A holo-what?”
Richelle said, “Isn't a holograph or hologram where a negative is produced by exposing a high-resolution photographic plate, without camera or lens, near a subject illuminated by monochromatic, coherent radiation, such as from a laser, and when it is placed in a beam of coherent light, a true three-dimensional image of the subject is formed?”
Mr. Chickee smiled.
Russell looked at Steven.
Steven looked at Russell and whispered, “Lucky guess.”
Ms. Tiptip put her fist out and said, “Put it here, sister girl!”
Richelle gave Ms. Tiptip some dap.
Great
-great-grampa Carter's cranky dictionary said, “Oh, boy, I have a strong feeling that that definition sailed positively miles over the heads of two of the people who heard it.”
Steven said, “Ha! I get it! They explained about this on PBS. It only looks like that little guy is standing there on the table, but he really isn't. He's just a kind of moving picture, like a 3-D movie. He looks real, but he's nothing but light, you can even wave your hand right through him.”
Steven reached over to do just that. Big mistake.
Ms. Tiptip said, “No! Don't tou—”
Too late.
The little man tried to duck but Steven was too quick. His hand smacked the man and sent him sailing off the table. He landed in a heap on the floor.
Mr. Chickee gently scooped him up, set him on the table and said, “Please forgive him, Horton, he's new here, they're from—”
The diminutive man said, “They're from Yourside! Who else would be so rude as to touch someone like that?”
Steven said, “Huh? I don't get it. I didn't know … I'm sorry.”
Horton said, “Oh, you just think you're sorry. You wait. We have a saying here, ‘Payback is a sandwich best served on stale bread.’ And believe me, Mr. I-Can-Touch-Anything-I-Want, either I or one of my Holo-Vision partners is going to pay you back big for this insult!”
He pointed at his wrist, where a tiny Oops-a-Daisy was strapped, and said, “And don't think just because time is getting short that you'll get away. We'll get you before this thing zeroes out, and that's a promise!”
Ms. Tiptip said, “Horton! Such hostility! I'm surprised! I know everyone here is under a lot of pressure from the prophecies of the Chronicles of Zornea-Hu, but that's no way to talk to guests. I think you know what you must do now.”
The little man said, “Yes, Ms. Tiptip.”
He looked at Steven and said, “I'm sorry.”
You've heard of apologies that are said to be “dripping with insincerity”? Well, this one was so phony it had insincerity sloshing off of it like water barreling over the Kearsley Dam!
Ms. Tiptip continued, “And Steven, I know what you did was unintentional, but it's not enough to try to be considerate when you're in a new place or a new situation. You must be careful not to unintentionally hurt the feelings of others or be inconsiderate in any way. You must constantly be sensitive. Now, I think you know what you have to do.”
Steven said, “Yes, Ms. Tiptip. I'm really sorry I slapped you off the table, sir.”
The man said nothing, but his beady little holographic eyes burned into Steven.
Mr. Chickee said, “Fine. Now please continue, Horton. No one has to remind you that time is critical.”
Horton once again bowed and repeated, “Welcome, one and all.”
But guess who he didn't look at.
“I am Horton Flum-Flub, Holo-Explainer, the one whose responsibility it is to remove any questions you may have about Ourside and the current predicament in which we find ourselves.
“With your permission I will, by chronological age, flum-flub each of you, then set about removing your knowledge deficits.
“Ms. Cyrus-Herndon, I believe you are the oldest of our guests.”
Richelle said, “Wait a minute, I'm not so sure about this. What in the world is flum-flubbing?”
Ms. Tiptip said, “I understand your reluctance, Richelle, but to flum-flub is to merely take a picture of certain bioelectrical energy patterns made by your brain. The patterns tell what it is you do or don't know about a particular subject, after which Horton puts together a program to bring you up to speed. Flum-flubbing simply identifies then erases your ignorance. It's designed to save time, it's the way all of our people in Ourside are educated. It's quite safe and painless and has no side effects other than enlightenment.”
Richelle said, “What do I have to do?”
Ms. Tiptip said, “Simply give your permission.”
Richelle said, “Okay, why not? Go ahead.”
Horton hummed for exactly 2.8 seconds, then blew a puff of holographic air at Richelle. He said, “Finished. Steven, old chum, I believe you're next oldest.”
Steven put his hand over his eyes so as not to look at Richelle and asked, “Can flum-flubbing get rid of this point zero one percent change that happened to me? And it's not going to hurt, is it?”
Richelle said, “Would you hurry up and give your permission, please! Look at me, does it seem like I was hurt? Flum-flubbing just feels like hummingbird wings brushing over your cheeks.”
Steven said, “There's no way I'm looking at you again. All right, Mr. Holo-Explainer, you can do it.”
Horton once again hummed for 2.8 seconds, shot another puff of holographic air in Steven's direction and said, “Finished. Russell?”
“This sounds fun! Fire away!”
“No. You must actually give your permission. ‘Fire away’ will not do.”
Russell said, “Oops! Okay, you can flum-flub me.”
Horton whooshed air at Russell.
“Finished.”
Russell said, “Hey! How come you didn't hum before you finished me?”
Horton rolled his eyes and said, “The humming is done for nothing but show; we know how mysterious you Your-siders like to make everything. But if you insist, hmmmmm. Now one moment, please.”
Horton closed his eyes, then said, “Finished. Please enjoy the presentation.”
He seemed to fade until the tabletop was empty.
then his voice could be heard, “Many uncounted years ago, not long after Ourside and Yourside were torn apart, the first porch, or doorway between the two worlds, was discovered.”
From the table a bright flash exploded, then disappeared.
After blinking many times, the friends from Flint saw the image of a small porch standing on the table. Above the porch's doorway was printed ZORNEA-HU.
Russell pointed at the table and said, “That's so cool! How did they—”
Richelle and Steven each went, “Russell, shhh!”
Ms. Tiptip said, “No, no, children, it's all right. The Holo-Vision is designed to be interactive. Through many years of flum-flubbing we've recognized that one of the more beautiful things about having ignorance erased is that it leads to many more questions being asked. You discover that knowledge, instead of causing you to be satisfied with what you've learned, causes you to hunger for more and more knowledge.”
Russell said, “Hey! That sounds like how I feel if I eat just one Triple Chocolate Double Butter Extra Sugared Candy Delight—I want more and more. Mmm! Like the commercial says, ‘Obesity isn't such a bad price to pay after all.’ ”
Mr. Chickee said, “Well … it's sort of like that, Russell.”
He blinked rapidly again, then said, “You know what? It's nothing at all like that. The more you know, the moreyou understand how little you actually know and the more you want to know. So the Holo-Vision takes this into consideration and allows any questions that may pop up in your mind to be asked and then answered. So it's fine to interrupt and ask anything. Go ahead, Russell.”
Russell said, “Uh, I forgot what I was saying.”
Horton said, “As I was saying, the porch to Zornea-Hu remained open only briefly, during which time the people from Ourside learned much about life from the woman who lived there. It was through her teachings and writings and guidance that we advanced so much more rapidly than the people of Yourside, who, some feel, unfortunately chose to follow other leaders.”
Richelle said, “Excuse me, was this a real woman or was she a myth?”
Horton said, “She was real. We never knew her actual name, so we've always called her Zornea-Hu, which was, as you've seen, what's written above her door.”
Richelle said, “Do you know anything more about her?”
“We only know she was born on Yourside in one of your states, called Florida.”
A 3-D map of the United States appeared on the table and a small star glinted from northeast Florida.
“She's also recognized as being the first Old Soul.”
The table was suddenly filled with twenty-seven soup-can-height people.
Russell said, “Hey! That's you and Ms. Tiptip, Mr. Chickee!”
“Yes, it is a representation of us.”
The people waved and smiled at the Flint Future Detectives.
“Wow!” Russell said. “Can they see us?”
“Yes, the actual Old Souls are getting something very similar to what you call a voice mail and are responding.”
Steven said, “If these are the Old Souls, how come some of them look so young? That one is a baby!”
Horton Flum-Flub Holo-Explainer said, “The name Old Soul refers not to their chronological age but to their spiritual age. The Old Souls are a group of people who have unusually high amounts of certain personality traits, things such as tolerance, open-mindedness, patience, acceptance and humility.”
Russell whispered to Steven, “Sounds like the kind of people who never get invited to go anywhere.”
Ms. Tiptip said, “We have those traits and are never satisfied with what we've learned, we always want to know more.”
Russell whispered, “See, I told you, they're all party poopers.”
Mr. Chickee said, “We also can feel the pain or joy that others feel.”
Horton said, “As I said, Zornea-Hu was officially the first person we recognized with these traits. Sadly, she was never aware of her uniqueness. She was told so many times that she was ‘peculiar’ and ‘difficult’ and ‘weird’ and ‘out of place,’ that unfortunately toward the end she believed these things. We've since learned she was actually nothing more than an Old Soul.”
On the table a woman dressed in old-fashioned clothescould be seen sitting at a desk writing with one of those old typewriter thingies. She pulled the piece of paper that she'd been working on out of the typewriter, read it over, then, as her shoulders slumped, shook her head and wadded the paper into a ball.
Horton said, “She thought of her writings as whimsical little ditties done to relieve boredom and sorrow. She actually spent most of her adult life doing what she called ‘scribbling tiny stories and tinier poems,’ but we on Ourside have discovered that she was actually a channel of wisdom from beyond. That paper she just tossed out was what has come to be known as the first prophecy from the Chronicles of Zornea-Hu.”
Mr. Chickee's Messy Mission Page 7