“What are you studying so intensely on a Saturday night?” Ludwig inquired, peering down over Tycho’s shoulder.
Tycho’s vegetable book was open in front of him. “How long it takes tomatoes to get ripe depends on how much sun they get,” Tycho explained. “That’s why its important to plant them in a place where—”
“Okay, okay, spare me the boring details,” Ludwig interrupted. He shook his bangs out of his eyes and began poking around on the desk. “No wonder you never get anything done. You’re so totally disorganized.”
“Stop it!” said Tycho. “You’re messing everything up.”
“Messing everything up?” Ludwig snorted, still moving things around. “It’s already a complete junk pile.”
“That’s the way I organized it. I know where everything is,” Tycho insisted. He stood up and spread his arms out over the desk, pushing Ludwig away. “Come on, Ludwig. Just leave me alone.”
“I just wonder what you’re doing that’s so secret and important,” Ludwig said, “that you have to sneak off by yourself at eight o’clock on a Saturday night.” He moved toward the door. “I think I’ll just tell Tamara and Leonardo, so that we can all keep an eye on you.” He left the room without closing the door.
Tycho didn’t know whether or not Ludwig suspected that he still had the egg. What he did know was that his own room was not private enough for what he wanted to do. He sighed and put the egg back in his pocket, and walked across the hallway to the only safe place in the house.
Inside the bathroom he carefully locked the door, then closed the toilet seat and sat down. Once more he examined the egg. After he had studied the markings on the end for several minutes, it became clear that they were arranged in concentric circles. And the circles, in fact, were not merely etched on the metal, they were actually tiny dials, one inside the other. He tried spinning them. They moved effortlessly under his fingers, but stopped, instantly and precisely, as soon as he lifted his hand.
The doorknob turned; then there was a knock. “Hey, who’s in there?” demanded Tamara.
Should he answer? It would be more suspicious if he didn’t. “It’s me,” he called back. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He gave the dials another careless spin. Then he gripped the egg tightly and, holding his breath, pressed down on the green end with his thumb.
He felt faint.
And then there was sunlight pouring in through the window, summer afternoon sunlight, and there were birds singing, and it was stiflingly hot and humid. Part of the humidity came from the bathtub, which was filled with water that was sloshing over onto the floor. Not only was the tub too full, but Tamara would not keep still, swaying in the water as she swung her right leg back and forth above her head.
Then she noticed Tycho sitting on the closed toilet seat. Her leg stopped. For a moment they just stared at each other.
“Hi,” said Tycho, breaking the silence.
Tamara’s eyes widened. “Tycho! You monster! Get out!” she shouted.
But Tycho was too excited to get out. The thing had really worked! It had taken him to a different day! The fantastic solution was true!
“Hey, calm down, Tamara, it’s only me,” Tycho said. “Do you remember what the date is today?”
“The date?” cried Tamara. “What are you talking about? I thought I locked the door. Just shut up and get out. This instant! Out, out, out!”
“With pleasure,” Tycho said, spinning the dials again. He took a deep breath and pressed down on the green end with his thumb.
He felt faint.
The sunlight dimmed. Sleet and hail slapped against the windowpane, dark gray in the half-light of an early winter morning. The radiator rattled and hissed in the corner. There was also a thin whistle coming from Bobby, who stood at the sink with a towel wrapped around his waist, sleepily scraping a razor across his chin.
The egg had taken Tycho to another season, perhaps even another year.
His first instinct was to sneak out. Bobby was always irritable in the morning, and Tycho didn’t want to startle him. Also a disturbing thought had just occurred to him: How was he going to get back? Hopping around in time like this was interesting, but he still had no idea how the dials worked. If he was ever going to get back to where he had started from, he was going to have to find some time when he could be alone and figure out how the egg worked. But that was proving to be difficult. The bathroom was a popular place.
Then Bobby noticed him. He didn’t make a sound, but he did jump about a foot up into the air. He stubbed his toe on the way down and made a big red gash across his chin. “Tycho!” he said hoarsely. “What on … How did … ?”
“Sorry, Bobby,” Tycho said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It was an accident. Just tell me the date and I’ll go away.”
“An accident?” Now Bobby was wide awake and angry. Blood was dripping from his chin onto the floor. He wiped at it with his hand and made a big pink soapy smear across his face. “You want to know the date?” he said, his voice rising. “What a rotten trick to pull!” He started toward Tycho. “You ought to be—”
Tycho spun the dials, faster and farther than ever. He pressed down on the green end with his thumb.
He felt faint.
And then he looked around and felt even fainter. The bathroom was a wreck. There were gaping holes in the walls and ceiling and floor, and crumbling plaster everywhere. Gurgling exposed pipes jutted out on all sides of him, like horrible worms. Worst of all was the intense green glow outside the window, full of gliding bulbous shapes, and the terrible, unearthly stench, so strong he could feel it on his skin.
He spun the dials back in the opposite direction, gasping for breath. Now he didn’t care whom he ended up antagonizing; anything was better than this nightmare.
And it was a relief to be back in the old bathroom again, even though there was someone—hidden by the shower curtain—taking a shower, who would doubtless see him in a moment and be furious. But that would be insignificant compared to the horror he had just escaped. What could it mean: the ruined house and the green sky and the terrible smell? How far in the future was that going to happen? He hoped it was after his lifetime.
But he couldn’t worry about that now. He had to figure out how to control the dials and get back to the time he had left, before the person in the shower came out and saw him. He held the egg up to his eye and squinted. But there were no discernible numbers and dates, and the lines were so delicate and complex that he couldn’t count them. And it was difficult to concentrate. He kept wondering who was in the shower. The person was whistling in a very familiar way, but it didn’t really sound like Bobby or Ludwig or Leonardo, and it certainly wasn’t Judy or Tamara. Who was it, anyway?
Then the water stopped. Tycho knew he should probably leave, but he was too curious. The shower curtain rustled. He looked up.
And saw himself emerging out of the steam.
It was not at all like looking in a mirror. Tycho was sitting down, fully dressed, and his other self was standing up, naked, dripping water onto the floor. And there were other differences. This new Tycho was several inches taller, and more solidly built, and had slightly darker hair. Furthermore, he needed a shave.
He raised his eyebrows, only mildly startled. “Oh, so there you are,” he said, in a deep, unfamiliar voice. “I was beginning to wonder when you were going to show up.”
“You mean you knew I was coming?” Tycho asked.
“Of course I did. You don’t think I’d forget an experience like this, do you?”
“But,” Tycho said. “But if you’re me … I mean if we’re the same person, how can we both be here at the same time?”
“No time to explain now,” said the other Tycho, bending over him. “I’ve got to show you how to work this thing, fast, so you can get back to your own time.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Tycho said, more confused than ever. “If you have to show me how it works, then who showed you how to—”
“Shut up and concentrate.” His older self plucked the egg out of his hand, dripping water onto his shirt. “Now watch carefully. This dial on the outside is seconds and minutes, okay? And this next one is days and months, and then there’s years and centuries, and this one is millennia. Got it?”
Tycho nodded.
“Okay. Now, you have to be very careful and precise, no matter what’s happening around you, or you’ll just get into a bigger mess than ever. Now watch. Here’s how you do it.”
Tycho watched, and concentrated. It was vital to learn how the thing worked, and he was fortunate to have someone to explain it to him. Also, though he knew it was ridiculous, he wanted to impress this competent and rather stern version of himself.
“Got it now?” said the other Tycho, straightening up and handing the egg back to him.
“I think so. It doesn’t seem so hard.”
“Good. Now what was the date when you left?”
“Oh,” Tycho said. The date was something he was only rarely aware of. But fortunately, because of the garden, he had been thinking about the date that day and quickly reeled it off.
“Okay, that was, let me see, five years, um, six months, and twelve days ago. What time was it?”
“Oh, I never know what time it is,” Tycho. explained reasonably. “I always forget to wear my watch, you see.”
“Well you’re going to have to start remembering,” said his other self, sounding annoyed. “Think what would happen if you came back before you left. Then you’d really be in trouble.”
“It was after supper,” Tycho said. “And it was dark out; I had to stop digging. But it wasn’t really late.”
“All right, let’s play it safe and say nine. You set the dials.”
Tycho tried to concentrate, uncomfortably. He felt as though he were taking a test at school. After several long minutes, he held the thing up to be inspected.
“Nope. You made one mistake,” said his other self, grimly shaking his head. “Find it and fix it.”
“Oh,” said Tycho. “Oh, yeah, here it is. Now is it right?”
“Good,” said the other Tycho. “But you’d better practice some more before you go on another trip.”
“I will.”
“And keep track of the date and don’t forget to wear your watch.”
“I won’t.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Be right out,” called big Tycho. “You better get back now,” he whispered.
“Okay,” whispered Tycho. “Uh, it was nice to meet you. Thanks for the help.”
“It was nothing,” said his other self, his eyes fixed tensely on Tycho’s face. “Good-bye now. And … good luck.”
Now Tycho understood how the egg worked. But as he pressed down on the green end, he felt less confident than ever. Obviously his older self knew what was going to happen to him. Why then, when he said good-bye, did he look so worried?
6
A GREAT DEAL OF ACTIVITY WAS GOING ON outside the bathroom when Tycho returned.
Arguing, hysterical voices and heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. The bathroom door shivered repeatedly as some heavy instrument was pounded over and over again against the lock. There was a scraping noise at the window, and Tycho turned to see Bobby’s worried face appear at the top of a ladder.
Tycho stood up. “Bobby!” he said. “What’s going on? What are you doing out there on a ladder?”
“What’s going on?” Bobby repeated blankly. “Tycho … you mean you’ve just been sitting there this whole time?”
“What whole time?” Tycho said. How long had he been gone, anyway? It was now nine; what time had he left? He didn’t know, so he said, “I better go unlock the door before they break it down.”
He unlocked the door and Leonardo almost fell on top of him, wheezing, hammer and chisel in his hands. Judy, Ludwig and Tamara hovered just behind him, looking worried. “Tycho!” said Judy. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“Nothing happened,” Tycho said, deciding that all he could do was bluff his way through until he found out what was going on. “What’s all the fuss about? I went in, and then Tamara knocked, and then I finished and came out.” He shrugged.
“Tycho,” Judy said very quietly. “The last time you responded to anyone was a good half hour ago. We’ve been knocking and calling and trying to get an answer out of you that whole time. We thought you were too sick to talk, or had fainted or gone into a coma or something.”
“But … but I’m fine,” Tycho said, confused and unable to concentrate on how to get out of this mess with all of them watching him so closely. “Nothing is the matter. I didn’t faint or anything. I just … I didn’t realize so much time had gone by.”
“In other words, you’ve just been calmly sitting there listening to us beg you to answer. Probably laughing to yourself at the great practical joke you were playing. Is that it, Tycho?” Judy’s voice was not so quiet now.
“No, that’s not it,” Tycho insisted. “I wasn’t playing a joke on anybody. I guess I just blanked out or something. I don’t understand it. I just … I guess …” His voice faltered.
Judy, Tamara and Leonardo were clearly furious with him now. But not Ludwig. He seemed only curious, squinting down at Tycho through his long dark bangs as he tried to puzzle it all out.
Bobby clomped noisily up the stairs and burst into the group, his face red. “All right, explain yourself!” he demanded, panting.
“He has no explanation,” Judy said crisply. “He was just sitting there listening.”
“No, it wasn’t like that!” Tycho insisted.
“Then what was it like?” said Bobby. “Tell us, please. We’re waiting.”
It was a very bad half hour. If he had been any younger, he was sure they would have spanked him. As it was, by the time he escaped to his room and flung himself miserably down on the bed, he was almost crying.
On the table beside his bed lay his watch, stopped at twenty minutes to two. He felt like smashing it to the floor, furious at the whole concept of time for getting him into this rotten situation. And why had it happened? Because he didn’t know what time he had left, miscalculated on his return, and came back a half hour too late.
What he should have done was check the time of his departure and then set the egg to bring him back one minute after he had left. That way, no matter how much time he spent on his trip, he would come back soon enough to be aware of what was going on in the present and not miss anything important. That was the way to avoid causing, and experiencing, the kind of unpleasantness they had all been going through for the last hour.
He took the watch from the table and carefully began winding it. Only one person had not been frightened and angry, and that was Ludwig. He had been suspicious. And that, of course, was another reason why it was so important to be precise about when he left and when he came back. Already, two unexplainable things had happened to him today. If the others had not been so emotionally involved, they might have been suspicious too, instead of merely angry. He was lucky that so far only Ludwig was suspicious; but he would have been luckier if no one was.
How much did Ludwig suspect? He couldn’t possibly know very much. Still, he had to be very careful not to make any more slip-ups. If Ludwig ever did figure out what was going on, he would be very quick to get the egg away from Tycho. and claim all the adventure for himself.
Tycho undressed and got back in bed. Checking with his bedside electric clock, he set his watch to the correct time and carefully fixed it around his wrist. Then he turned out the light. Now, for the first time, he was fully aware of exactly what the egg could do and how it worked. He began to plan.
When he woke up in the morning, he was ready for his first major adventure.
7
THE FIRST THING HE HAD TO DO WAS PUT TOGETHER some sort of disguise.
In the back of his closet, on the floor, he found a pair of swimming goggles, with frames made out of thick black rubber. They di
d not totally disguise his face, but they were a beginning. Quietly, because it was early Sunday morning and he did not want to wake anyone up, he made his way down to the basement. In the clothes hamper he came across several pairs of Judy’s panty hose. He stuffed one pair into his pocket and crept back upstairs.
Now all he needed was something to hide the rest of him. He thought hard. Then he remembered Bobby’s bathrobe, a recent birthday present. It was black velour and had a hood, the perfect thing to complete his cover. But how was he going to get it? It was probably in Bobby’s closet, in the room where they were still asleep. Tycho was too impatient to wait until they got up—and maybe there was a way to get the bathrobe without waiting.
There was. You are an idiot, not to have thought of this sooner, he murmured to himself, carefully setting the dials on the egg. He checked and double-checked them. Then he pressed the green end, felt faint, and traveled twelve hours into the past.
As he had hoped, the whole family was downstairs, eating Saturday night supper. As he tiptoed across the upstairs hall, the smell of corned beef and cabbage and the mealtime conversation floated up to him from the dining room.
“You’re part of a family, Tycho. You can’t just live only for yourself,” Bobby was saying. “You must learn to share.”
Fine, Tycho said to himself. And now I’m sharing your bathrobe.
“I always share,” Tamara declared.
“So do I,” Leo put in quickly. “I offered to paint a whole mural for Tycho, in his room, for a present. He just laughed.”
“Now that wasn’t very nice of you, was it, Tycho,” said Judy.
“It’s because he’s the youngest,” said Leonardo. “I was reading a psychology book yesterday, about family psychology. It said the youngest one was often …”
Just wait until I get through with your psychology, fatso, thought Tycho as he poked through Bobby’s closet. He pulled the bathrobe down from a hook and hurried back to his room. He did not want to hear the rest of the conversation. Once had been enough.
He closed the door, checked his watch, and moved ahead twelve hours, back to Sunday morning. Then he cut one leg off Judy’s panty hose and pulled it over his head. The stocking gave his face a kind of squashed, dead look. He added the goggles, which hid any expression that might have been in his eyes. And finally the black robe created a wonderfully macabre effect. The outfit was perfect! For a finishing touch, he pulled a huge pair of rubber swim fins out of the closet. He hurried down the stairs and out into the backyard.
The Green Futures of Tycho Page 2