Molly glances at Hale before she answers for both of them. Yes, why?
Well, I think the Terlaedians have decided they’re out, even if it’s not over. Because the ticking … it’s getting faster.
CHAPTER 26
How much faster? both Molly and Hale ask at the same time.
Okay, so it was, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. And now it’s tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick. So, what do I do now? Ugh, this ticking is driving me crazy. What’s the plan? Surely they’ll tell me now what I need to do. Or say. Or whatever.
But no.
Molly and Hale just stare at me, while Mum and Dad continue happily picking bits and pieces off the spiky thing in the middle of the table and chatting away as if the world isn’t ending.
What next? I finally say to Molly and Hale.
We were kind of hoping you’d tell us, Hale says.
The thing is, though. Nothing happens.
We go home and, apart from the tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick getting slightly faster in my head and a super-full stomach, that’s it.
Nothing.
No weird aliens, no sonic booms, no lightning or thunder, or anything at all. Just the sound of Jack gratefully downing his leftovers from the restaurant.
No universe ending.
Well, not yet, anyway.
Eventually, with no threat to the universe that I can see, I go to sleep.
The next day is Saturday and even though I don’t have to, I get up early, because the ticking is driving me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about what I’m going to have to do. I just don’t get it. Why me? And how am I going to do this? I’m so not Superman. I don’t even have a pair of lucky underpants.
Eventually, to keep myself busy, I start making pancakes.
Like, a lot of pancakes.
Even after Jack begs for every second pancake I make, there are still a whole lot of pancakes.
‘Wow,’ Mum says, when she gets up. ‘You’ve been busy.’ She eyes off the huge stacks of pancakes, piled high on the plates I’ve set out.
‘Yeah,’ I say. I can’t really look at her. What if this is it? The last time I’ll ever eat a meal with my mum again? I mean, I don’t want to get soppy or anything, but she’s my mum, right? ‘You know,’ I say, my finger skating back and forth over a chip out of the stone benchtop, ‘you’re a pretty good mum.’
There’s silence for a moment, which forces me to look over at her.
She seems sort of shocked. Like she can’t believe what I’ve just said.
‘Well, um, thanks,’ she finally says, her eyes wide. She glances around the room, looking a bit worried. ‘Is there something you have to tell me?’
Yes. ‘No.’
‘You haven’t broken a window? Burned down your bedroom or something?’ She checks up the hallway. Sniffs the air for smoke.
‘No. Nothing like that.’
‘Well, that’s good.’ She still doesn’t look like she’s buying this.
‘Really,’ I say, ‘I haven’t done anything bad.’
A blink. Another blink. And then, with one last, hesitant look around the room, she comes over and pulls me in under her arm. ‘I love you too, sweetie.’
‘Thanks, Mum. Anyway, um, let’s eat.’ I squirm away, my gut churning with all kinds of different emotions that I don’t want to think too hard about. I go over, sit down on one of the breakfast bar stools and start wolfing pancakes.
‘That’s more like the Cooper I know,’ says Mum, watching me.
I grin at her, mouth full of pancake.
‘Charming.’
‘Where’s Molly?’
‘Still asleep, I guess.’ I know Hale’s around the place somewhere, too. He said he’d stay close by.
As Mum potters about making coffee, I work steadily away at my pancakes, all the time thinking about Molly and Hale and everything they’ve told me about what’s supposed to happen, which is pretty close to nothing. I just can’t stop wondering if that’s all they really, truly know, or whether, at the right moment, they’ll tell me what I need to do.
‘Hey,’ a head pokes around the back door and into the kitchen, ‘I thought I smelled pancakes cooking.’
Only Ethan could smell pancakes from so far away. Still, I knew he would – that’s why I did so many stacks.
Mum laughs. ‘Only you could smell pancakes from that distance, Ethan.’ She seconds my thoughts. ‘Come on in. As you can see, there’s more than enough to go around …’ She gestures towards the pancake stacks taking up half the bench.
‘I think I can help you with that,’ Ethan nods, quite serious, the rest of his body snaking around the doorway, already heading straight for the prize. And while there’s part of me that wants to stop him, that wants to tell him that this might be it and that he should go home and be with his family, I don’t. Maybe it’s selfish, but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend the end of the universe with.
‘I thought you might be able to help out.’ I watch him, trying very hard not to laugh, because before I’ve even finished my sentence, he has an entire pancake stuffed in his mouth.
Ethan and I absolutely gorge ourselves on pancakes and then settle in for a bad taste movie marathon. And I mean we really settle in – dragging the two beanbags from my room in front of the TV. Jack settles in as well, lying down in between us, his head resting on my leg, obviously exhausted by all his pancake eating.
Ah, this is the life, he says.
And, all the time, the ticking gets faster.
We’re halfway through the second movie, lying in a pancake coma on the floor, when I finally can’t take it anymore. ‘I don’t want to get up, but I can’t wait any longer – I’ve got to go,’ I tell Ethan.
‘Want me to pause the movie?’ he says.
‘Nah, I’ve seen it a thousand times before,’ I tell him. And then I come out with the next line of dialogue, just to prove it. ‘You keep watching. I’ll be back in a second.’
I head out of the living room and down the hallway, touching the lucky crack as I go. Into the bathroom, do the business, wash the hands, out of the bathroom. I’m feeling remarkably up, given the circumstances. Or I did for a few seconds, because that’s when the ticking gets faster.
Like way faster.
I run straight into Molly. And Hale. And Jack.
All three of them are blocking the hall. Waiting. For me, presumably. As if they can feel my panic, which I guess they can.
‘It’s time,’ we all say, in perfect unison.
I gulp. ‘Do you really think so? That it’s time, I mean?’ I’m stalling. I know I’m stalling.
‘Sorry, Cooper, as much as you might want to, you can’t really stall on the end of the universe,’ Molly says.
‘Yeah, I thought that might be the case.’ I gulp again. Suddenly my mouth has gone super dry. Like I’m in the middle of the desert or something. And then there’s my heart, which is running a marathon without me. Oh, and not to mention the ticking – tick-tick-tick-tick-tick – which is now crazy fast. I take a deep breath. ‘So, um, what do we do now?’
Hale raises his eyebrows at Molly.
‘We take you to the designated point in time and space.’
I pause. ‘What? Just me? By myself? Like, hanging out in space?’
‘You are the only relevant party, but we can all come with you. We can keep you in the house if you want.’
‘Right, okay.’ I wipe my incredibly clammy palms on my shorts. So that’s why my mouth is dry – I’m diverting all the water in my body directly into palm sweat. How … useful. ‘And what do I do when I get there?’ Come on, they really must know the answer to this question.
Molly glances at Hale.
‘I’m sorry, Cooper, but we really don’t know. We’re not hiding anything from you. All we know is the location we must take you to. After that, everything is up to you.’
This isn’t exactly what I’m wanting to hear and, frankly, I’m a bit over hearing it. Tantrum time. ‘You can s
top joking around now. You know I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do. So, ha ha, you can both fill me in now.’
The three of them stare at me blankly.
I still think they must be joking.
‘Dude,’ Jack says. ‘They’re really not.’
‘It’s what you would call determinism on Earth,’ Hale says. ‘What is going to happen will happen, though none of us here knows exactly what that is. Our mission is to transport you to a time and place in a specific dimension. That is all.’
‘Sure,’ I answer. ‘Sounds easy enough. Um …’ I try to think of someone. Something. Anything. Anyone who could possibly get me out of this. ‘So, are you sure? Like really sure? What if you’re wrong about where we need to be? Shouldn’t you get Mrs Tippler in? You said she was your expert navigator, right?’
Molly glances at Hale. ‘Maybe once I would have. Not now.’
I look from one of them to the other. Jack down below, then Hale, then Molly. ‘Oh, man, you really are serious. You really think I can do this thing …’ I say quietly, my words dwindling off into nothing.
Their silence tells me everything.
I take another deep breath. A deep breath that fills my entire lungs. And then I do the only thing I can do in this situation.
CHAPTER 27
And, oh boy, do I panic.
For someone who is supposedly about to save the universe, I seriously lose the plot.
I run up the hallway to the kitchen, touching the lucky crack once more as I go. There are Mum and Dad, Mum washing some fruit and Dad unpacking the dishwasher. Both are frozen – care of Molly and Hale, I suppose. I turn and run into the living room. And there is Ethan, still on his beanbag, staring at the TV. Frozen. I keep going, running onto the back deck, then back inside and down the hallway again (lucky crack) and into my room. Then Molly’s room, Mum and Dad’s room, the bathroom again …
I have no idea what I’m looking for. Some sort of clue, I think. But there’s nothing. Nothing. Apart from all the frozen people in the house and the three aliens in front of me, one of them a dog, everything seems very normal.
Out the front door. Nothing.
And back inside to the aliens to beg for mercy.
‘You’ve got to tell me what to do. Give me a clue. Anything. Anything and everything you know. About what’s going to happen, I mean.’
Molly glances at Hale. She shrugs. ‘I’m sorry, Cooper. There really isn’t anything else.’
‘Surely. Surely there’s something.’ I’m seriously about to get down on my knees and beg.
‘Dude,’ Jack pipes up again. ‘You really need to calm down.’
‘CALM DOWN?!’ I seriously can’t believe what I’m hearing, and I don’t know which is worse – the manic ticking, or my dog telling me to calm down at a time like this. ‘And stop dude-ing me! It’s not appropriate for the end of the universe.’
‘Sorry,’ he rolls his eyes at me, ‘dude.’
I run a hand through my hair. ‘You’re not worried that I can’t do this?’ My eyes are boggling now. I’m not sure which one of them I’m even asking. ‘You’re not worried about dying?’
‘Oh, no,’ Molly answers. ‘We won’t die,’ she points to herself, Hale and Jack. ‘Just everyone else.’
I stare at her, gobsmacked. ‘Well, that’s nice for some, isn’t it? Nice to know how much you’ve got invested in this! Thanks for telling me at the very last second.’
But Molly looks unfazed. ‘That’s how it is,’ she tells me. ‘Anyway, I think you can do this. I haven’t always, but I do now.’
After a few more seconds of staring dumbly at her, I give up and return to my headless chicken routine (because that’s totally working for me). Amazingly, I manage to be even more uncool this time around. I run back up to the kitchen once more (lucky crack), where everyone is still frozen. Living room, still frozen, back down the hall (lucky crack). Then I pause for a bit and look feverishly around me.
‘We’re all going to die,’ I say, to no one. ‘We’re all going to die.’
‘No,’ Jack speaks up, ‘Molly just told you that—’
‘NOT HELPING!’ I yell at him.
Hale cuts in then. ‘You know, I really don’t think that’s going to happen,’ he says, speaking just as calmly as Molly.
‘Oh, I feel so much better …’ I shake my head as the ticking gets faster still.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick …
Hale ignores me and turns to Molly. ‘Haven’t you ever suspected?’
‘Suspected?’ Molly frowns.
‘When we went to free Jack, Cooper knew the timing of release. The exact timing. I didn’t need to use a repletor – he knew the exact moment I could free Jack. Maybe you never suspected because you were too busy. With your experts.’
I have no idea what they’re talking about. But as they talk about it, I remember that weird feeling I’d had in front of the sphere, Jack stuck inside. And, as I think about it, the same sensations start to pour into my body again, each cell sort of … awakening, ramping up to high alert, as if some signal in my brain has started flashing red lights and wailing noisy sirens, as well as the ticking sound.
Something’s going to happen. Again. Now. Right now. I can feel it.
But what?
Maybe Molly senses that I’m losing it (not that you’d need super-alien perception to see this), but she grabs me now, by both arms, her face right in front of mine. ‘This is it. Whatever this is, you can do it,’ she tells me. ‘Like Mum is always saying, just have a go. Do your best!’
This, at least, makes me pause. I give her a look. ‘Are you serious? That’s your pep talk? Really?’
But I can’t concentrate on her for long. I start panting all of a sudden, my body really losing the plot, just like my mind before. Everything inside me is intent on … something. Something I can’t define. It’s like there’s a tornado inside of me, whirling and whirling, picking up more of me as it turns, except for one thing – there’s no focus. No centre. I realise something then. I need that centre. I need that centre or I’m going to explode.
I have to find it.
Now.
I forget about Molly’s pathetic pep talk, or begging for more information, because something tells me it really is down to me now. Only I can do this and I have to do it alone.
Instinctively, I start running once more. This time, I go further. I run down the hallway (lucky crack), straight through the kitchen and out onto the back deck. I run right around the perimeter of our backyard. I run around the side of the house and out to the front yard. I run back upstairs and onto the front verandah. Into the house and each of the bedrooms again. The bathroom. The hallway once more (lucky crack).
I’m not even thinking now, I’m in such a frenzy. There is no thinking, only running. All the time, looking. Looking for something. Searching.
For what? I have no idea.
Faster now. Down the hallway (lucky crack), kitchen, deck, backyard, front yard, verandah, bedrooms, bathroom, hallway (lucky crack).
Faster, faster, faster. Around and around and around. Until I’m like something in a cartoon. Not a person anymore, just a trail. A trail of feverish, incoherent energy. A whirlwind.
Down the hallway (lucky crack), kitchen, deck, backyard, front yard, verandah, bedrooms, bathroom (lucky crack) …
CHAPTER 28
I wake up to see Molly standing over me. ‘I guess you were right,’ she says to Hale, her expression one of complete disbelief.
‘Wha—’ I cough, frowning at the ceiling as I realise where I am – halfway inside Molly’s room. I’ve been blown straight across the hallway. But by what? I attempt to think back to what just happened, but it’s all sort of fuzzy. There was a lot of running. A lot of … panicking. Maybe even a bit of hand-flapping (embarrassing). The last thing I remember is touching the lucky crack. I try to speak once more, but only end up coughing again.
‘Just take it slowly.’ Hale’s
face appears beside Molly’s. ‘After all,’ he smiles, ‘you deserve a little rest. You’ve just saved the universe.’
‘Dude.’ Jack gives me a paws up.
It takes me a while to get my breath back. When I do, I crawl out to the hallway and prop myself up against a wall, leaning my back against it for support. Actually, I’m kind of surprised the hallway still exists. I haven’t seen myself in a mirror, but from the bits of me I can see, I’m guessing I look like something pretty close to a cartoon character after an ACME dynamite explosion. I have a lot of sort of ashy stuff on me and my hair feels like it’s standing on end. Though maybe that’s from fear. ‘You’re going to have to walk me through this.’ I shake my head slowly. I have no idea what has just happened.
‘How should we explain?’ Molly looks over at Hale as they both stand above me.
‘Start by dumbing it down,’ I tell her, adding a groan to the end. My head hurts. More than a little bit. ‘And then you dumb it down some more. A bit more again and you might be close.’
Molly exhales. ‘Okay. Um, how to dumb it down … right, I’ve got it. You know that story about the little Dutch boy who sticks his finger in the dyke?’
‘I think you skipped that when you were passing out Earth information.’ I hold up a hand. ‘Wait. Please don’t insert it into my brain right now.’
Molly nods. ‘Okay, I’ll just tell you. So, the story goes that there was a little Dutch boy on his way to school and he noticed a leak in a dyke, the seawater slowly trickling in. Even though he knew he would get into trouble for being late to school, he stuck his finger into the hole, waited for help and saved Holland from going underwater. The moral of the story being that even a small, insignificant person can be important if he or she does the right thing at the right time.’
‘Gee, thanks,’ I groan, having no idea what she’s gabbling on about. I rest my head against the wall. But then I start to piece things together. The leak, the boy, the last thing I remember doing … slowly, I lift my head up again to stare at the opposite wall.
The lucky crack. It’s gone. My eyes swim for a moment and I attempt to focus again. ‘What are you saying? That I stuck my finger in the lucky crack and now everything’s all right?’
How to Save the Universe in Ten Easy Steps Page 12