Time Tsunami

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Time Tsunami Page 7

by Danele J Rotharmel


  Danny stopped sweeping and mumbled, “Mom was worried about me being alone when she works late, so Rick offered to keep an eye on me. I think he wants to be Mom’s boyfriend and is trying to impress her.”

  Hearing the tone of Danny’s voice, Gil set the dish soap on the counter and asked, “You don’t like him very much, do you? Does your mom know?”

  He shook his head. “Rick’s Mr. Charming when she’s around, and I don’t wanna worry her. She has enough problems.”

  “Having someone around that you don’t like is a problem too. You should tell her.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’ll be nice if I can figure out what I’m doing that’s making him mad. It wasn’t bad when he first came over. He just kinda ignored me.”

  “What about now?”

  “Lately, he’s been drinking and…” Danny shrugged.

  Seeing the tension in the boy’s face, Gil asked gently, “Is he hurting you?” When Danny wouldn’t meet her eye, she said quietly, “I need to know. If he’s hurting you, it isn’t your fault.”

  Danny’s grip tightened on the broom handle. “He hits me where the bruises don’t show.”

  “Oh, Danny!”

  “Last week he messed up and punched my face really hard. When Mom saw the bruise, he said he’d been teaching me how to catch a baseball. He said I was clumsy and missed.”

  “That—!” Biting off an expletive, Gil said softly, “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Danny wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Besides, Mom was so upset about the bruise that Rick’s started slapping my face instead of punching it. Slapping doesn’t hurt as bad. I can take it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to! Abuse is wrong.” Gil’s furious eyes turned thoughtful. “If Rick is abusing you that may explain a few things. I’ll bet in two days, Rick’s gonna attack you in the kitchen and you’ll feel the need to defend yourself. Does that sound right?”

  “Maybe...I don’t know. What did ‘future-me’ have to say about it?”

  “He just said Rick had it coming.” She chewed her lip. “I wish he’d given me more information. I’d like to know what triggered the stabbing.”

  Danny shuddered. “I can’t imagine sticking a knife into someone.”

  “Well, it’s not gonna happen. We know the date your D-day occurs, and—”

  “D-day?”

  “Disaster Day.”

  “Oh.”

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. The butcher knife’s in the trash, and I’m gonna make sure Mr. Jacobson’s grandson is in the house with you on D-day.”

  “That’s why you want me to talk with him?”

  She nodded. “If he can’t be here, we’ll get you out of the house when the stabbing’s supposed to happen. We’re gonna win this one, I promise.” Shutting off the water, she began attacking the dishes with soapsuds. “Does Rick ever hit your mom?”

  “No. Like I said, he’s Mr. Charming.” Danny balled his hands into fists. “I’d never let him hurt her.”

  Gil swung around, leaving a trail of soapy water. “Hey, maybe that’s the answer! Maybe he attacks your mom, and you try to defend her.”

  “What did the court records say?”

  “They didn’t say much…” Gil began washing a pot with unnecessary force.

  Danny tugged at her sweater. “What aren’t you telling me about Mom? Remember our agreement? You said you’d to be straight with me.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “But remember, it isn’t gonna happen. We’re gonna change it.”

  Danny nodded.

  “The night you were arrested, Charlesberg police reports say your mom hung herself.”

  “I don’t think so,” Danny said quietly.

  “It would’ve been a hard time for her. Suicide is—”

  “You don’t understand! Mom’s uncle killed himself. She says suicide is selfish. She hates it. She wouldn’t do it. Maybe Rick killed her, and when I saw her body, I stabbed him.”

  “Maybe, but I think her body would’ve been found when you were arrested.”

  “Could those people in the TV find out?”

  “When I make contact tonight, I’ll ask them. But remember, it doesn’t matter in the long run. I’m here now, and since you think your mom may be involved in the fight with Rick, I’ll make sure to keep her safe.”

  “Promise?”

  Gil gave him a quick, soapy hug. “Promise. Don’t forget, we’re gonna get the Jacobson clan on our side. Between us all, we’ll keep her alive.” Turning back to the dishes, she smiled over her shoulder. “Continue sweeping, young man, and spill again. What’s up with your school work?”

  Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m just dumb. I just can’t read good and my spelling stinks.”

  “When you take a test, do you get all the way through?”

  “Nah, I only get halfway. The questions don’t make no sense.”

  “Any sense.”

  Grinning, Gil wiped her hands on a dishtowel and took a book out of her backpack. When she opened it, a homemade card landed at Danny’s feet. On the front was a caricature of Gil flying to the rescue in a superman suit.

  “What’s this?” he asked, picking it up.

  “A good luck card from my classmates. My friend, Ryan, drew the picture.”

  “He’s pretty good.”

  “If you like his drawings, you should see his wood carvings. Go ahead and read the card. I can tell you’re dying to.”

  Danny opened it up and whistled. Every square inch was covered with well-wishes and scraps of advice. As he looked at the messages, he squinted down at a string of math formulas. Seeing his puzzled look, Gil laughed. “That’s a note from Crystal.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Truthfully, I don’t really know. Half the time I can’t understand what she’s saying. I think the formulas are her attempt to quantify the odds of a successful surf in terms of linear-time increments.”

  “Huh?”

  “My thoughts exactly.” She chuckled. “Cris is a strange girl, but she has a heart of gold. I’d bet my last dollar that circulating the card was her idea.”

  “You have nice friends.”

  “They’re a good bunch.” She took the card and tucked it inside her backpack. Pushing aside various debris, she laid a book on the table and motioned for Danny to draw near. “I want you to read this passage to me.”

  He looked at the text and sighed. “I’m really bad at reading.”

  “That’s okay. It’s just you and me, and I have a hunch about what’s going on.”

  Sitting down, he began to struggle through the sentences. After a few minutes, Gil stopped him and put a pencil and sheet of paper in front of him. As she gave him an impromptu spelling test, the more he spelled, the bigger her smile became.

  Danny brushed a bead of sweat from his forehead and chewed his lip. “I told you I was stupid. You must be pretty disappointed.”

  “Oh, Danny,” Gil said cheerfully, “you’re not stupid. You’re dyslexic.”

  “Dis-what’s-it? What’s that?”

  “Dyslexia’s where your brain interprets material a bit differently than other people. Some doctors believe it’s a mark of brilliance.”

  “It doesn’t feel brilliant,” he grumbled. “Why am I so stupid at spelling, and reading, and stuff?”

  “You’re not stupid. Einstein and Edison were both dyslexic. Your brain just needs a little retraining. Tomorrow, we’ll see about getting you some help. We’re gonna lick this as well.” As Danny started to smile, Gil said gleefully, “We’re on the road, my fine young friend. Not only that, we’re traveling down it at a fast rate of speed!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  In Curie Hall, Crystal looked at the clock and sighed. She’d finished her test in less than forty-five minutes, and she’d spent the last ten minutes double-checking her answers. More than anything, she wanted to turn in her exam and get food, but she needed to wait until
another student was finished. Her rule of thumb was that if one wanted to win friends, it didn’t pay to look like a showoff.

  She pushed at her glasses nervously. Regardless of her best efforts, she was still having trouble fitting in. Being careful about test etiquette wasn’t going to be enough—she needed to monitor her speech. She’d been making an effort to use contractions when talking with her peers, but colloquial speech patterns wouldn’t help in the long run if the majority of her conversation revolved around mathematical theory. It had jolted her when Ryan said it was a pain to be around a genius. She knew he was joking, but the joke wasn’t funny to her. As a Harvard undergraduate, she’d been alienated by students who thought she was an academic know-it-all.

  After Crystal checked her answers for a fourth time, she looked over at William. He was sitting motionless at the table in front of the classroom. His arms were extended stiffly on the tabletop, and his hands were clenched into fists. She was certain his thoughts weren’t pleasant. The tension around him was so thick she could cut it with a knife.

  * * *

  When the house was clean, Gil showed Danny how to use a cookbook. Since he’d neglected to bring home his homework, she gave him a lecture about academic responsibility as they made stew. Later, when it was time for bed, she picked up her sleeping bag and asked, “Where can I spread this so I don’t get stepped on?”

  Danny scratched his head. “Even when it’s late, Mom comes in after work to say goodnight. Would she trip over you even if she can’t see you?”

  “I’m not sure,” Gil replied. “I know I can move things, but I don’t know if my body mass can be tripped over.”

  “The people in charge should’ve told you that,” Danny protested. “It’s kinda important to know if people walk through you or into you.”

  “Well, my professors did try to prepare me. There were some gigantic manuals I was supposed to study, but—”

  “You mean after lecturing me about homework, you didn’t do yours?”

  “It’s not the same.” Seeing his justifiable skepticism, Gil laughed and admitted, “Okay, I guess it’s exactly the same. I really goofed, didn’t I? So what do you suggest? We can’t let your mom trip over me.”

  “You’re asking me what I think?”

  “Given your IQ, I know you can problem solve. So out with it, what should I do?”

  “Just how big is my IQ?” he asked with a visible gleam in his eye.

  “Big enough to give you a big head if I told you. But remember, having a gigantic IQ isn’t worth anything unless you—”

  “—apply myself, I know. I heard your lecture the first time. It’s pretty funny that you scolded me about doing homework and now you’re in the hot seat.”

  Gil tossed her pillow at him.

  Laughing, he tossed it back. “Let’s keep you outta traffic tonight by putting your sleeping bag beneath the window.”

  “That’s a good plan. What else?”

  “Tomorrow, let’s do a test run and put you in the path of someone to see if they hit you or walk through you—but not Mom, I don’t want her freaking out. Could I be the guinea pig?”

  “I’m afraid not, we need someone else. Who do you suggest?”

  “Maybe this is evil of me, but there’s a guy in my class who’s a real pain. He’s always pushing me around. Do you think we could use him? I wouldn’t be sorry if he freaked.”

  “That’s an excellent idea.”

  “Cool.” Danny smirked. “So when do you contact the ‘mother ship?’”

  She looked at her watch. “In thirty minutes. Why? Do you wanna stay up and watch?”

  “Can I?”

  “It’s not normal procedure, but I can’t see what it’d hurt. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to talk to people from the future...although come to think of it, they’re in this time too. They’re just kids and teenagers.” She began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I was thinking about Dr. Moosly,” she admitted. “I suppose it’s awful of me, but I was wondering if he walked like a penguin when he was a kid or if that was a characteristic he acquired as he got older.”

  “Was he the bald guy with the clipboard?”

  She nodded. “He wrote one of those huge manuals I couldn’t get through. He talks through his nose, and when he speaks, his eyebrows wiggle and his nostrils flare. Keep your eyes open and see if you notice it.”

  “I can’t wait until we make contact.”

  “Me either. But in the meantime, we might as well get into our PJs. Do you want the bathroom first or last?”

  “I’ll run over and change in Mom’s. You can use mine.”

  “Sounds good,” Gil replied, struggling to pick up her suitcase. Dropping it back to the floor with a solid thunk, she started dragging it over to the bathroom.

  * * *

  Five minutes later, his ablutions complete, Danny sat on his bed, waiting for Gil to get out of his bathroom. Fifteen minutes after that, he began to scowl. Glancing at the clock, he jumped up and pounded on the bathroom door. “We gotta make contact in five minutes! What are you doing in there? I’ve been waiting forever. Hurry up! I don’t wanna miss this!”

  Gil opened the door, and he fell back with a gasp. She was dressed head-to-toe in fuzzy pink pajamas. Her face was smeared with green goo, and her hair was up in blue curlers.

  “Good gravy!” Danny sputtered.

  “I know. I’m in the suds. I always underestimate the time at the most inconvenient moments. This facial still has several minutes until it’s supposed to come off. How soon until we gotta make contact?”

  “Four minutes.”

  “Nuts! I don’t even have time to wash it off now. How bad do I look?”

  At a loss for words, Danny shook his head. “What are those things on your head?”

  “These? They’re curlers. Doesn’t your mom use curlers to curl her hair?”

  “She gets a permanent when we can afford it. Why don’t you?”

  “Don’t like the smell. There are some hot rollers I’m dying to try. You spray on conditioner first, and—”

  “Are you for real?” he interrupted with a sputter. “Hair care? My eyes are glazing over. I’m a guy for Pete’s sake!”

  “Sorry, Danny,” she laughed, “but you asked. Never ask unless you wanna know.”

  “Look, we’re outta time. We gotta set up Extreme Exam. It’s only a couple of minutes until contact.”

  Glancing at the clock, she nodded. “You’re right. Where’s my backpack?”

  Danny looked at her blankly. “I don’t know. I don’t see it anywhere.”

  “Me either!” Gil moaned. “I can’t believe this! I was supposed to make sure I didn’t misplace the game! Look, Danny! Hurry!”

  Danny scurried around the room. As he threw the covers off his bed, Gil picked up her sleeping bag and tossed it to one side.

  “It’s not here!” she exclaimed. “What’d I do with it? How could I be so careless?”

  “Mom says when you lose something, sit down and think where you had it last.”

  Together, they plopped down on the bed. As Gil tapped a pink, furry-clad foot, Danny said, “Don’t worry, we’ll find it.”

  “In thirty seconds?” She groaned.

  * * *

  “She’s late.” Dr. Moosly grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the shimmering GAP beam.

  “It’s only ten minutes past,” William replied. “Give her time. She’ll come through.”

  * * *

  Danny sprinted back to his bedroom with a grin on his face. “Find it yet?”

  “No!” Gil wailed as she went through the clothes hamper. “This is hopeless!”

  “You think so? Huh? Look what I found!” Danny crowed, pulling her missing pack from behind his back.

  “You gem! I told you that you had a high IQ. Where’d you find it?”

  “On a chair pushed beneath the kitchen table. You put it there when we
scrubbed the floor, so it wouldn’t get wet.”

  As Gil ran over to him, Danny laughed at the sight of her PJs. He hadn’t noticed before, but the feet had built-in bunny slippers. With her green face and blue curlers, she really looked weird. Actually, even weirder than before. In the frantic effort of the search, the green goo on her face had started to crack and peal. She looked seriously diseased.

  “Got it!” Gil said jubilantly as she rummaged through the backpack. “Let’s get the game in the PlayFest console.”

  “Don’t you wanna wash your face first?”

  “No time! I’m already...goodness...twenty minutes late. What are they gonna think?”

  “I don’t know, but I think you need to wash your face,” Danny said in a quivering voice.

  “Let’s just get going. Dr. Moosly’s gonna have a field day about my tardiness.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Transmission coming through,” intoned Director Matthews. “Contact in five, four, three, two, one…”

  The opaque beam dancing on the Staging Platform gradually became transparent. As the ghostly image behind the beam solidified, the review board could see Danny and next to him...

  “What on earth?” Dr. Nelson whispered softly.

  William’s laugh was loud and bellowing.

  * * *

  Trying to ignore her appearance, Gil pasted a smile on her face and addressed the review board in a deliberately cheerful voice. “Hello, there! What’s up?”

  “I might ask you the same thing,” snapped Dr. Moosly. “Do you realize how long we’ve been waiting?”

  Beside her, Danny grinned and whispered in her ear, “I see what you mean about the nose and the eyebrows—”

  “Shh!” she said, trying hard not to laugh.

  “Gil,” William said with twitching lips, “may I ask what’s on your face?”

  “Oh, this?” She smiled, and as she did, a green strip became dislodged and began to waggle beneath her chin. “It’s a rejuvenating facial. Guaranteed to make your complexion as sparkling as dew on a rose petal.”

  “Ah. Quite so. Marvelous. I can tell it’s working already.”

 

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