by Tom Hoffman
“You are indeed gifted. That simple task has taken some shapers many, many years to master. You were successful after only eight attempts.”
“Now, I want you to imagine an apple.”
Bartholomew smiled. He knew it was only a thought of Clara, but it was wonderful to see her there talking to him.
“Pay attention please. I will remind you again I am not Clara. Now, the apple?”
Bartholomew once again had no idea how long he had been there. There had been so many lessons with Clara. Had it been an hour or a hundred years? He did not think he would ever get used to being in a place where time did not exist.
Shaping was becoming a natural reflex for Bartholomew. He could quickly create almost any small object now, even complex ones. The last object he shaped surprised both him and Clara. He had made a working pocket watch with almost thirty perfect little spinning gears. He had a thought as he looked at the watch. What would a clock do in a place where time did not exist? He watched the second hand slowly move around the face of the clock, but soon forgot how long he had been watching it and how many times it had gone around. After several tries he gave up and put the watch in his pocket.
“You have done exceptionally well, Bartholomew. There is one more lesson for now. We have shaped things which exist. Now we will shape things which exist only in your mind. I want you to imagine a white ball the size of an egg. When you throw the ball it will softly burst in the air and one hundred yellow flowers will fall to the ground forming the shape of a star.”
Bartholomew just stared at Clara. “Clara can do this?”
“Clara could do this when she was a bunny.”
Bartholomew rolled his eyes. “Of course she could.”
A minute or a hundred years later Bartholomew was still sitting in the Garden with No End. In front of him were fifty spinning green clouds. Each cloud gradually transformed into a shiny round ball, then the balls all changed colors and moved to form a single large rotating circle. The circle began to close. When the balls reached the center they merged into one large multicolored ball, which then expanded. As it grew in size, its color faded until it was almost transparent. Bartholomew stood up. The invisible sphere moved toward him and gradually enveloped him. He vanished from sight. When the sphere moved away from him he became visible again. Clara nodded her approval.
“That was your last lesson for this session, Bartholomew. You have every right to be proud of what you have accomplished. There are many, many other forms of shaping, but those are for another day. Some of them are extremely dangerous and the ethics of some are still being debated among shapers. I will send you back now, but whenever you wish to learn more, you may simply touch Clara’s thought.”
Clara paused for a moment. “There is one last gift from Clara before you return to your world. Clara wanted you to know she has loved you always.”
Before Bartholomew could react he was back in Clara’s bedroom. He missed her more than ever.
Bartholomew found Oliver in the living room scribbling madly on a piece of paper. He looked up at Bartholomew. “Did you find the other diaries?”
“There was only one diary. Clara went to the village of Penrith to join the Shapers Guild. It will take us about two weeks to walk there. There’s something else. I think it’s time we talked. Would you care for a freshly baked molasses cookie from Dorothy Rabbit’s Bakery in Lepus Hollow?”
“That’s a very peculiar question to ask. Are you feeling all right?”
Bartholomew held out his paw. There was a brief flash of light and a large warm molasses cookie appeared on it. Oliver looked up at him in surprise. “Yes, we should talk.”
Bartholomew sat down on the couch next to Oliver. “Do you remember when I told you I had stayed on a lovely island during my time in the Swamp of Lost Things? There was more to it than that. The place I discovered is called the Most Beautiful Island, and time as we know it does not exist there...”
An hour later, Oliver sat staring at Bartholomew with an intensely curious look.
“This Cavern of Silence tells you things that you don’t already know?”
“Yes, he said he exists outside of space and time and I am guessing this allows him access to events which will occur in the future and events which have happened in the past. It’s still confusing to me, but I do trust everything he says and he has never broken that trust. Sometimes his messages are cryptic, but in time the meaning becomes clear. I often get feelings from him rather than words, which in some ways is a much more efficient way to communicate.”
“This is all so interesting. A year ago I would have laughed at you, but the impossible things we have seen have changed me, probably more than I am aware of. There are scientists today who say time is malleable and does not always move at the same speed. That would mean it’s not outside the realm of scientific possibility for a place like your island to exist where there is no time at all. I declare, this world of ours gets stranger every day. Or more precisely, the world stays the same, but my understanding of it is always changing.”
“I fear it is more than any us can ever completely fathom.”
“To think you are turning thoughts into physical matter. Amazing. I wonder if the reverse would be possible. Could physical matter could be turned into a thought?”
“I hadn’t thought about that. If that were possible, you could convert an object into a thought, send the thought far away and convert it back into matter again. It might put all the moving companies out of business though.” Bartholomew laughed at the image of rabbits turning all their household goods into big puffy thought clouds.
“I dare not even think about the future of our world.”
Bartholomew stood up. “Speaking of the future, we should prepare for our journey to Penrith. Once we arrive there, we’ll be one step closer to finding Clara.”
“I do hope we find her safe and sound at the Shapers Guild.”
Bartholomew said nothing. He knew Clara would not be in Penrith.
It took Bartholomew and Oliver a full day to prepare for the trip. They cleaned and tidied Clara’s house, leaving everything as they had found it. As he was cleaning Clara’s room, Bartholomew had an idea. Could he take Clara’s thought with him? Could he carry a thought with him the same as you would carry a tin of cookies?
“Oliver, do you have a large empty tin? I want to pack a few things in it.”
“There’s one somewhere in the back of the wagon.”
Bartholomew walked out to the duplonium wagon and rummaged around looking for the tin. He noticed three long crates beneath the other supplies, and pushed one aside so he could see the label stenciled on the crate. It read, ‘One Excelsior Model Mark III Electro-Vacuumator’. They had been dragging these vacuumators around behind them for weeks. What was Oliver thinking? He hollered out to Oliver, “You never did tell me why your brought along all the vacuumators.”
“To sell them, obviously. I shall be making some sales calls along the road to Penrith.”
Bartholomew shook his head but said nothing. He found the empty tin in the back of the wagon and carried it into Clara’s room. He opened the closet door. Remembering Clara’s instructions, he imagined the thought floating down from the shelf and into the empty tin. It did exactly that. The multicolored thought cloud hovered silently in the tin. “Stay in this tin until I open it again.” It might be possible for him to use the thought cloud as a means of traveling to the Most Beautiful Island, but he wasn’t certain if he could then leave the island through the Hallway of Doors. He put the top back on the tin and packed it carefully in the wagon.
The next day Oliver returned the house key to Clara’s neighbor and told her they would be leaving, but were not certain when they would return. He said Clara had traveled to Penrith on business and they hoped to meet up with her there.
Bartholomew waited for Oliver in Clara’s house. He walked through the rooms one more time and found a recent photograph of Clara which he put in his coat pocket.
It might help them find her, and it would also be a great comfort to him during his travels. He went into her room, opened the closet door, and sat down on the bed. A pink cloud floated out of his ear and up to the top shelf of the closet, moving back into the corner where Clara’s thought had been. It was for Clara, in the event he was unable to return.
He locked the front door behind him and found Oliver waiting out on the dirt roadway. “It’s a long journey, but not as difficult as our trip to the Tree of Eyes. Once we reach the Halsey River, there is a well-traveled road which runs along the river all the way to Penrith. Clara’s neighbor said there are some small villages along the way, but not many.”
Oliver walked to the front of the duplonium wagon and picked up the handle. The wagon moved forward with a soft hiss.
“Every step we take brings us closer to Clara.”
Chapter 10
The Road to Penrith
The weather was lovely and the walk through the lush green farm country was delightful. Bartholomew could understand why Clara’s mother had decided to settle here. As they strolled along, rabbits would often come out of their houses to get a closer look at the duplonium wagon. Oliver would launch into a lengthy explanation of precisely how the duplonium engine worked. Some of the rabbits found this fascinating, but others had very droopy eyes by the time he was done. He did make one sale to a farmer who planned to use the vacuumator to power his farm machinery.
After several days of traveling through the bucolic farm country, they reached the banks of the Halsey River. It was a wide river with a strong and steady flow, which was unfortunately moving in the wrong direction. Their journey to Penrith would have been far quicker if they could have traveled there by river barge.
The road along the river was well traveled, and occasionally a rabbit would walk along next to them and begin chatting about the weather, the river, and other such topics. In the evenings they parked the duplonium wagon on the side of the road and Oliver would prepare dinner. Often times the delightful aromas of his cooking would attract neighboring campers, and Oliver was always happy to share his meals with those who were less fortunate.
On their second day of their journey, a tall rabbit strode up alongside them. He nodded politely and said, “Good afternoon, friends, I trust your day is going well?”
“Indeed it is, good sir. A lovely day to be out walking.”
“And where might you be heading?”
“Ah, our destination is Penrith.”
“Oh dear, have you not heard about the rock slide?”
“Rock slide?”
“Indeed so, sir. The road to Penrith has been blocked by a terrible rock slide. A section of canyon wall collapsed into the river, completely blocking the road. It’s far too steep to safely climb over, and it would be quite impossible to navigate your marvelous wagon across the rubble. Large rocks in the river are preventing the barges from passing through. Anyone traveling to Penrith is being forced to take a lengthy detour around the mountains and through a pass leading to the other side of the range. I am told it adds nearly three weeks travel time to their journey. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such disappointing news, but that unfortunately is the current situation. I wish you nothing but good luck on your journey.” He tipped his hat and soon had left them far behind.
“We have to get to Penrith sooner than that. There must be something we can do. Perhaps a small boat could make it past the rock slide?”
“Hmm...” said Oliver, “you have given me something to think about.” He was silent for the next hour except for an occasional mumbled technical phrase. Bartholomew knew better than to bother him while he was thinking.
Finally Oliver spoke again. “I may have a solution to this impasse. Our two remaining Mark III Vacuumators will play a crucial role in this endeavor. Are you familiar with Isaac Rabbit’s third law of motion?”
“Let me see... everything which is moving upwards... uh... those things which move...”
“Oh good heavens, did you attend even a single day of school? It’s quite simple. ‘Every action has an equal and opposite reaction’.”
“Ah, yes, I see. Those words will certainly help us to navigate the river.”
Oliver gave him a pitiful look. “When you fire a shotgun, the gun pushes back against your shoulder. The action is the projectile being shot forward, and the reaction is the gun being pushed backwards into your shoulder. Is this clear to you?”
“Yes, that much is clear.”
“Fine. I constructed the duplonium wagon so it will float in water. I thought it would be useful in the event we needed to pull it through swampland or across a shallow lake. Now, imagine if you can, two Mark III Electro-Vacuumators bolted to the duplonium wagon with the polarity reversed on the magneto oscillators.”
“Magneto what?”
“The Vacuumators will blow air out instead of sucking it in. Would it help if I drew some colorful little pictures for you?”
“There’s really no need for that tone of voice. I quite understand what you are saying. The Vacuumators will blow air out the back of the duplonium wagon and, like a balloon which has been released, it will shoot forward. But hopefully not in the same fashion as a wildly out of control balloon.”
“I’ve taken all that into consideration of course. By converting the front wheel into a rudder, we shall have complete control over the craft. We simply turn the wagon around and the rudder will be at the back of the boat where it belongs. It will take us a few days to modify the wagon, but it should save us three weeks of travel time. The wagon is certainly small enough to pass between the large rocks deposited by the rock slide. The current is strong, but it’s not dangerous.”
Bartholomew was initially dubious, but the more he thought about it, the more sense Oliver’s plan made. He was also quite aware that Oliver was a renowned scientist and a highly regarded inventor.
That evening when they parked the duplonium wagon Oliver said, “I’m afraid you will have to play the role of chef tonight, as I shall be busy drawing up final plans for the duplonium wagon modifications. I will also prepare drawings for a number of new parts we’ll need.” He gave a knowing look to Bartholomew. “Are you capable of fabricating such things?”
Bartholomew looked at him with a bemused expression. There was a small flash of light and a large wrench appeared in his paw. “Just say the word. If you need me, I shall be preparing dinner.” Bartholomew stepped behind the duplonium wagon. There were several flashes of orange light and a moment later he strolled out carrying a tray filled with an assortment of freshly baked pastries. “I thought we would begin dinner with dessert.”
“Your methods are quite irregular, but I shall take full advantage of the situation nonetheless. Can you tell me how you prepare your éclairs?”
Later that evening, Oliver brought Bartholomew drawings of all the parts needed to modify the wagon. Bartholomew went into the tent where the flashing lights would not draw attention, emerging an hour later with a wooden crate full of shiny new parts. He set the box down in front of Oliver, who carefully sorted through all the pieces.
“Yes, these will do nicely. We should arrive at the rock slide late tomorrow afternoon and I can begin modifying the wagon in the morning. With these new parts, it won’t take me as long to convert the wagon as I had anticipated. We should be ready to launch within a day.
After breakfast the following morning, they loaded their gear into the wagon and set out on the river road. They could see the mountains rising up ahead of them and the deep recess where the Halsey River had cut through the range, forming a narrow canyon. As they walked towards the distant peaks, Oliver explained again in great detail how he planned to modify the wagon. Bartholomew was quite relieved when they finally arrived at the canyon.
Chapter 11
The Adventurer
Their tall rabbit friend had been accurate in his description of the event. A large section of the canyon wall had slid down over the road and into the river. The
y couldn’t see the entire rock slide, as the river made a sharp turn farther back into the canyon. The road had been carved into the base of the canyon alongside the river, but was of course was now blocked by the rock slide.
There were a few other rabbits in the area who had stopped to gawk at the landslide, but by dinnertime they had all gone home. Oliver and Bartholomew set up the tent and retired early, to be fully rested for the next day’s labors. The conversion of the duplonium wagon would be a difficult and time consuming task.
After a hearty breakfast, work on the wagon finally began. They uncrated the two vacuumators, attached both brackets, then bolted the vacuumators to what was now the rear of the wagon. Oliver attached special modified exhaust nozzles of his own invention which would greatly increase the force and velocity of the air being expelled from the vacuumators. They added large flat metal sheets to the front wheel, bending and bolting everything together to form a smooth and functional rudder. Oliver replaced the long straight metal arm on the front of the wagon with one that curved up and backwards over the crates and boxes. This would allow them to maneuver the rudder while sitting in the wagon. Bartholomew would steer while Oliver operated the vacuumators. After securely tying everything down, Oliver walked around the wagon several times, poking and prodding to make sure nothing was out of order.
They maneuvered the wagon over to a shallow sandy area by the river, then rolled it into the water. Bartholomew checked carefully for leaks and found none. Oliver tested the two vacuumators, first reversing the polarity of the magnetos with a small yellow lever. When he turned the red dials, the vacuumators roared like two small hurricanes. The wind almost knocked Bartholomew off his feet when he accidentally stepped in front of the nozzles. Finally, when they were both satisfied with every detail of the wagon, they rolled it out of the water.
“I think we’ve done it, my friend. Everything is working flawlessly. My guess is it will take us only an hour or so to make our way upriver through the canyon. Who knows, if this works as well as I suspect it will, the ship might even carry us all the way to Penrith.”