Just before Jacob said “Warp,” he noticed Dexter out of the corner of his eye look down, loosen his grip on the key, and say, “What the . . .”
Jacob said “Warp” and felt his stomach drop and the air rush out of his lungs, and when he opened his eyes, he was staring at his house. Only it was overgrown with dark green ivy. He stared down his street, which wasn’t a street at all but an idyllic creek surrounded by tall trees. Wooden pods attached to stiff vines sped high through the trees, carrying people down the street. The sidewalks were peaceful dirt paths. Jacob could hear birds chirping loudly and insects buzzing through the treetops. The street where all the houses looked the same had transformed into a verdant paradise.
“Where are we?” Jacob said.
“Um,” Sarah said, looking around in a panic. “More importantly, where is Dexter?”
Jacob stared at the computer for more than thirty seconds. It was so disgusting, he wasn’t sure he could touch it.
“That’s the computer?” he asked the librarian.
“Young man, don’t tell me you’ve never seen a computer before!” the librarian tittered before shuffling away. “May your emotions be calm and your mind clear,” she called over her shoulder.
Jacob’s eyes widened and he nudged Sarah. “That’s what Phil always says.”
“Jake . . .” Sarah said, pointing at the desk.
The computer was breathing. It was the size of an old desktop computer, but the monitor was covered in flesh and its screen glistened like a giant eyeball. The keyboard looked sweaty, and instead of plastic buttons, the keys looked like overgrown goose bumps. Jacob sat down in the chair and wondered if he should ask the computer permission before he touched it.
“Do you think it’s alive?” Jacob asked.
“It’s definitely alive,” Sarah said. “The question is whether it has teeth.”
Jacob gulped. He didn’t relish the idea of being bitten by a living computer.
Jacob took a deep breath. “I’m just going to . . .”
The computer burped.
Jacob smacked his head. “Seriously?”
“Hurry, Jake,” Sarah said, staring at a thorny plant nearby, which was slowly turning in their direction. “I think the plants are getting restless.”
When he opened up the browser a headline in large block letters read: “Rumors of Dinosaur Sightings Terrify Local Neighborhood.” A bit farther down, another headline said: “Area Man Claims to be President of the Universe, Wins Steak-Eating Competition.”
Jacob’s hands paused over the keyboard. “Uh-oh.”
They would have to deal with Nelly and Old Mick later. First he had to find Dexter. He carefully tapped the letter G.
The computer exhaled in pleasure. Jacob shivered and kept going. At least it didn’t seem hostile.
Jacob found Google, which, thankfully still existed in whatever alternate reality Jacob and Sarah had landed themselves in. He entered “Dexter Goldstein,” but then paused before pressing ENTER.
He turned to Sarah. “What if the future is different because sending Phil back worked? Do you think my dad will find us?”
Sarah looked away, knowing she needed to tread carefully whenever Jacob’s father was the subject of the conversation.
Jacob glanced at his Telly. No missed calls. He felt a queasy stirring in his stomach, feeling somewhat crazy that he was thinking it was possible that he would call. His dad almost felt imaginary, an impossible phantom he was chasing that always seemed just out of reach.
His heart sank yet again.
Sarah squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s find Dexter.”
Jacob nodded. He hit ENTER and scrolled through the results. The computer sighed and said, “Good choice, flesh being.”
“Um. Thanks,” Jacob said. He hoped the computer wouldn’t try to make conversation.
The first result that Jacob found was “Le Boulevard de Dexter Goldstein,” which was in Paris.
“Maybe he ended up in France?”
The second result was for the artist Jacques-Louis David. Jacob clicked on it and saw a lavish painting of a coronation scene inside a grand cathedral. The king was placing a crown on his queen’s head, and all of the various heads of state and dukes and duchesses were standing around in their finest attire. While everyone else in the painting appeared quite serious, Dexter was standing next to the king, smiling and giving a thumbs-up.
“That’s Dexter!” Jacob shouted. “What is he doing with a king?!”
“May I interest you in a beverage?” the computer asked. “Some gear grease, perhaps?”
“No,” Jacob said quickly. Then he remembered that the computer might have teeth. “I mean, no thank you, kind computer sir.”
He clicked back to the previous screen and started looking for a historical article. Surely there had to be more information about Dexter if he had wound up in a famous painting. Next to a king. At least a couple hundred years ago.
Then he felt Sarah’s hand on his shoulder.
“Jake, that wasn’t just a king,” she whispered. “That was Napoleon Bonaparte.”
Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris, December . . .”
Sarah laughed. “No, Jake, it’s not pronounced like the football team, it’s ‘No-truh dahm.’ It’s French.”
“Oh. Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris, December second, 1804, eleven a.m., warp!”
Jacob closed his eyes, he felt the air rush out of his lungs, and in front of him was Notre Dame Cathedral. It was one of the most spectacular places he had ever seen. Two magnificent white towers rose up above grand arched doorways, which were topped with an eerie row of dozens of beheaded statues. The towers were streaked with black soot, but it only made the cathedral more imposing and beautiful at the same time. Old wooden buildings were built right up to the cathedral’s entrance, which forced Jacob to tip his head back and stare straight up to see the tops of the towers.
Jacob and Sarah found themselves at the edge of an excited crowd that was jostling and shoving for a better view. A row of finely dressed guards armed with muskets and shiny bayonets were keeping the crowd at bay. Jacob could see his breath in the cold December air and rubbed his arms for warmth.
“We have to get inside,” Sarah said.
Jacob felt a push from behind and found his face within a few inches of a bayonet, which was held by a stern bearded soldier who looked as if he would not mind impaling a twelve-year-old. Jacob ducked back before the crowd could push him again.
He grabbed Sarah’s hand for safety, but she pulled away from him.
“I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” she said.
“Ugh. Fine,” Jacob said.
They started worming their way through the frenzied throng toward the side of the cathedral. Suddenly the crowd gasped, and Jacob looked up into the sky to see a massive balloon lit with hundreds of lights lifting into the sky. He looked away quickly and used the distraction to make a final push to the side of Notre Dame. He spotted a small door, which was down some stairs and almost hidden at the base of the cathedral. Jacob thought it must surely lead to the inside. It was guarded by a very tall and very muscular guard, whose jaw jutted out in a rather intimidating fashion.
Jacob and Sarah stared up at the guard. The guard stared down at them. Jacob knew he needed a good distraction.
“Excuse me,” Jacob said. “Can you please tell me how to get to the Eiffel Tower?”
Sarah smacked her head. “Jake,” she whispered. “The Eiffel Tower doesn’t exist yet.”
“Des enfants anglais?” the guard said, alarmed. “Á Paris?”
“Um. I’m not an infant.” Jacob said.
“Enfant means ‘child,’” Sarah whispered.
The soldier shouted “Des espions anglais!” and pointed at the children, but luckily
the crowd was still buzzing with excitement and his comrades didn’t hear him.
Jacob quickly turned to Sarah, whose face had gone ashen. “What does that mean?”
“Spies,” she whispered. “He thinks we’re English spies!”
The guard stepped carefully toward them. A beautiful hymn started playing within the cathedral and the crowd outside shushed each other so they could hear what was happening. The guard took a deep breath to shout again, so Jacob did the only thing he could think to do. He charged straight into the guard’s belly.
Jacob’s impact stifled the guard’s shout and he tripped over his decorative cape as he stumbled back. He landed with an “oomph” against the wall of the cathedral, and the sound drew the attention of two nearby soldiers, who yelped in alarm and started running toward them.
Jacob threw the small door open and saw a tiny staircase. He started running up, with Sarah close behind.
Around and around Jacob went up the stone spiral staircase. His chest started burning after it seemed like they had climbed for an eternity, but whenever his legs wanted him to slow down, all he needed to hear were the shouts and footsteps of the soldiers chasing him to keep climbing.
Finally he reached a door and he pushed it open and ran back out into the cold. They were on a stone ledge midway up the tower, and all of smoky, ramshackle Paris spread out before them. He could see the spires of old churches and the river Seine and the tops of ancient wooden buildings and the crowd below.
Just as they arrived, Jacob and Sarah heard a soldier yell “Halte!” and they ran along a narrow ledge in between the towers and ducked into another small door. Jacob looked up at a massive bell, which he hoped would not ring while they were inside. The classical music from the coronation wafted up into the tower, and Jacob tried to peer down to see if he could catch a glimpse of Dexter.
He didn’t see Dexter, but he did see a ladder that stretched down in between the wooden belfry and the stone side of the cathedral.
He scrambled over and started climbing down, the wood rickety and creaking underneath his weight. He peeked down at the floor, which was far, far below. He swallowed against his dry throat. He needed to focus.
After dozens of rungs he dropped down into a gallery near the rear of the cathedral. Sarah was right behind him. Jacob risked a glance through organ pipes to see the coronation in progress. Hundreds of men and women dressed in gold and red and deep purple were standing serenely watching the proceedings. The inside of the cathedral was lit by elaborate candelabras, and the ceilings were hung with banners and tapestries. Jacob knew that Dexter was probably somewhere near the front of the church, which was so far away, he could barely see it.
Jacob heard a grunt above, and looked up to see one of the grim soldiers peering down at him. He knew they wouldn’t risk causing a commotion by shouting, and Jacob rushed through a doorway and down another spiral staircase.
They reached the ground floor and suddenly they were among the most important people in France and around Europe, the generals and dukes and statesmen, wearing their finest clothes and hats. The women were dressed in flowing dresses and wore tiaras and sparkling jewels in their hair.
Jacob and Sarah gave each other a quick glance and started running up the aisle of the cathedral toward the front. Behind them they heard a growing clamor as the confused spectators wondered why two strangely dressed children were interrupting Napoleon’s coronation. The murmurs soon turned to shouts. Jacob hoped no one would stop them.
As they neared the front of the cathedral, Jacob caught a glimpse of Napoleon, a short man with a large nose who looked increasingly angry the closer they got.
Two of Napoleon’s personal guards started marching toward the children, but after a quick, testy order from Napoleon, they sheepishly retreated.
Instead Napoleon clutched a massive golden scepter and patted it in his hand in anticipation.
Jacob tried to look around as he ran, but there was no sign of Dexter. Napoleon shrugged off his red cape, yelled “Assassins!” and started marching menacingly toward Jacob and Sarah, waving his scepter.
Jacob stopped in his tracks and held up his hands. He didn’t need a translator to know what Napoleon had just said. Strong men grasped Jacob’s shoulders. Napoleon raised the scepter.
“Non!” Jacob heard a familiar voice shout.
Dexter, dressed in a fine gold coat, blue knickers, and crisp white stockings, stepped in front of Jacob and Sarah.
“Ce sont mes amis,” Dexter said.
“They’re my friends,” Sarah whispered, exhaling in relief.
Jacob strolled with Sarah and Dexter through the Jardin des Tuileries, a beautiful garden where Parisians of all types tried to soak in some sun in the short December afternoon. The garden was filled with intricate topiaries cut into the shapes of large animals, and many different types of trees, and it reminded Jacob of the king’s garden back on Planet Royale.
Dexter was still wearing his fine embroidered gold coat, and seemed even taller than Jacob had remembered. A sullen soldier with a musket trailed behind them for protection. Jacob was thankful the soldier was there, because the Parisians couldn’t stop staring at his sneakers.
“So I said to Bonnie,” Dexter continued, his voice sounding just a bit lower than normal. Jacob wondered if he had a cold. “Oh, I call him Bonnie because his last name is Bonaparte, get it? I said to Bonnie, ‘No way man, you don’t want to go to war with England’—he’s obsessed with invading England, I don’t really understand why, there hasn’t been a war in thousands of years—‘Let me tell you about this thing called recycling.’ He loved it! Bonnie is a really great general and everything, but he just needed something else to excite his natural curiosity. He converted to Philism and got really into gardening. He started turning all the extra cannons and muskets into better sewer pipes, which sounds gross, but it made things a lot better around here. Oh! Remember Phil the therapist? He’s huge! When people want to say hi to each other here they say ‘Dites-moi ce que vous ressentez.’ It means ‘Tell me about your feelings.’”
“Wow,” Jacob said.
“I know!” Dexter said. “Go, Phil.”
Sarah smacked Jacob on the shoulder. “That’s why our town was like a forest! Napoleon must have started environmentalism early and people made biological machines instead of plastic, and it changed the way people built cities!”
Jacob felt the key in his pocket and knew they had succeeded in wildly changing the course of history. Phil had left his mark and even Dexter the Great Recycler had managed to stop Napoleon’s famous invasions.
So where was his dad? Surely the Timekeeper would have noticed the massive disruptions in the course of history. Jacob’s heart began to sink. Yet another plan to find his father had failed. Even completely altering world history hadn’t worked.
“How long have you been here?” Jacob asked.
“About a year.”
“I thought you looked taller!” Sarah said.
Dexter looked down at Jacob. “Whoa. I am now your elder.”
“It’s weird,” Jacob said. “Should we go back to the day you were sent back in time to France and pick you up so you’ll be the same age again?”
“I kind of like being taller than you.” Dexter smiled.
Jacob stood up straighter. “Who stranded you here, anyway?” Jacob asked.
“I don’t know,” Dexter said. “Someone grabbed my foot when we were warping away in Africa and the next thing I knew I was in France. I never got a good look at who it was.”
Dexter suddenly remembered something and stopped in his tracks.
“Guys, they know about Astrals,” Dexter said quietly.
“What?!” Sarah shrieked.
“Who? The French? How do you know?” Jacob asked.
Dexter ushered them over next to a tr
ee and quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Jacob figured the precaution was probably rather unnecessary, as no one he had met in 1804 France spoke English. But he didn’t want to interrupt Dexter’s story.
“So I was wandering around the palace one night looking at all the tapestries. They’re really creepy because the eyes follow you and when you walk around by candlelight, it’s kind of scary even though it’s just woven fabric and I’m trying to be more—”
“Dex, Astrals . . .” Sarah said.
“Oh, right. So I found this one tapestry in the basement of the palace. It was one of the oldest ones in the entire palace, from ancient times, and it was completely faded. The only reason I even found it was because Bonnie gave me the key to the basement so that I could protect the seeds for his favorite types of flowers, which are really valuable here because it’s 1804 and when you want a new plant, you can’t just go down to the florist and pick up a—”
“Okay, so you found an old tapestry . . .” Jacob said.
Dexter’s eyes were wide. “Guys. It had a spaceship on it.”
“What?” Jacob asked.
“Shut up,” Sarah said. “No way.”
“I swear,” Dexter said. “And it had the Crackenarium family seal on it. It’s not even science fiction. It’s the real thing.”
Jacob’s mind raced. They knew about Astrals in ancient times? How did it never make the history books?
“It gets worse,” Dexter said, interrupting Jacob’s thoughts. “I think there’s a secret society to destroy space humans.”
But that was a long time ago, right?” Sarah said. “Surely there’s no one trying to destroy Astrals in our time.”
Sarah and Jacob and Dexter stared at the tapestry in the basement of the Palais des Tuileries, Napoleon’s personal palace. There was no mistaking the authenticity of the spaceship it depicted. It looked like an earlier model of the spaceship Praiseworthy, with slightly rougher edges and far less impressive rocket boosters. More importantly, it most definitely sported the Crackenarium seal. Jacob tried to work through what it meant. Humans on Earth knew about Astrals a really long time ago. But how many knew?
Jacob Wonderbar and the Interstellar Time Warp Page 4