Another Whole Nother Story

by Dr. Cuthbert Soup

  “Dad, look out!” cried Penny.

  The man closed in and Mr. Cheeseman, without thinking, drew his fist back and punched him squarely in the chin, knocking him to the cobblestone street and sending his wig flying. The man also dropped what he was holding, which turned out to be not a gun but a rolled-up magazine featuring a photo of a young Ethan Cheeseman accepting his prestigious Scientist of Tomorrow award.

  Jibby and his crew quickly appeared at Mr. Cheeseman’s side. “Nice punch,” said Jibby with an atta-boy pat on the back. “For a pacifist.”

  “Ahhh,” screamed Mr. Cheeseman, who had just discovered another good reason not to punch people. It really hurts.

  “Who are you?” Chip demanded of the man. “What do you want?”

  “This is your friend,” said Big. “The one I told you about.” She picked up the magazine and handed it to Chip. “And here is the painting.”

  “Yes,” said the professor, rubbing his jaw. “I’m an old friend of your father’s. Or at least I thought I was.”

  The voice was now familiar to Mr. Cheeseman, and when the pain in his hand subsided to the point that he could open his eyes, he was shocked at what he saw. “Professor Boxley?”

  “In the flesh,” said the professor, pushing himself to a sitting position. “I’m flattered you still recognize me. After all, it’s been over thirty years.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “I’m sorry I hit you. I thought you were attacking me.” He extended his non-punching hand and helped the professor to his feet. “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here?” said the professor. “Why, I came here to rescue you, of course.”

  The professor dusted himself off while Digs took to attacking his defenseless wig. “Let me get a good look at you, Ethan my boy. Best student I ever had, right here. Absolutely remarkable. It was with your theories and formulas that I was able to build a time machine nearly identical to yours and travel here from the future. I trust you’ll find my LVR-ZX quite impressive. It’s only a couple of miles from here.”

  If there had been any doubt in Big’s mind that her new friends were from the future, it was laid to rest with all this talk of time machines and rescue missions from the land of tomorrow. “So then, it is true,” she said.

  “It is,” said Chip.

  “Wait a minute,” said Teddy. “If you came here from the future, how did you know we needed to be rescued?”

  Professor Boxley spoke as if the answer was quite obvious. “Because you never came back.”

  “But that’s not logical,” said Chip. “I mean, it makes no sense at all.”

  “I agree that it makes no sense,” said the professor. “But I assure you, it’s perfectly logical.” Chip and Penny looked to their father.

  “Professor Boxley is right,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Logic and sense are two different things.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Chip.

  “Well,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “If you’ve never played the piano before, it will make no sense to you whatsoever. But it’s still absolutely logical.”

  “Please stop, you’re hurting my brain,” came a voice from the shadows. All eyes turned to see a slim silhouette of a man stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Gateman’s toupee and graying goatee served their purpose. Mr. Cheeseman and his children had no idea who this person was or why he was pointing a gun in their direction.

  “Gateman!” said Professor Boxley. “What are you doing? Put that thing down this instant!”

  “You know this man?” asked Mr. Cheeseman.

  “His name is Gateman Nametag. He’s my assistant.”

  “Was your assistant,” said Gateman, eyeing up his future victims. “I’ve decided to take a little leave of absence to do some things I’ve always wanted to do. Like take a pottery class, record a Christmas album, and … get revenge.” With his free hand, he reached up and peeled back his toupee. In doing so, his sleeve slid back just far enough to reveal that awful tattoo, the one that read 3VAW1X319 and, when viewed in a mirror, read Plexiwave, the evil corporation that manufactured weapons and microwave ovens and would do anything to get its hands on the LVR.

  “It’s Mr. 5,” said Chip.

  “No longer with the company,” said Gateman, tossing the toupee aside. “But you may call me Mr. 5 if you like. Anything to make the last moments of your miserable lives more enjoyable.”

  “You killed our mother,” snapped Teddy. “You should be in jail.”

  “That’s right,” echoed Gravy-Face Roy.

  “Oh, I was in jail,” said Gateman calmly. “Didn’t like it very much. Did you know they make you share a cell with someone? Absolutely barbaric.”

  “I knew it,” said Professor Boxley. “I knew you were no good.”

  Gateman responded by pointing the gun in Professor Boxley’s direction. “You really should be nicer to me,” he said. “After all, you’re the only one here who will leave this place alive. You see, I’m currently in need of your services. But once I’ve done away with everyone else and once you’ve shown me how to work that little time machine of yours, you’re fired. And make no mistake. It had better work this time. Or else.” He made a gunshot sound with his mouth.

  “You’re makin’ a big mistake here, lad,” said Jibby, inching closer to Gateman. Like a boxer throwing a sharp left jab, Gateman’s arm shot straight out until the gun was level with Jibby’s head. Jibby raised his hands and inched backward. “Take it easy there. I’m sure we can work this out to everyone’s satisfaction.”

  “I’ve no doubt of that,” said Gateman, his finger tightening around the trigger that he was just about to pull when he heard a growl most vicious. He spun in its direction to see a very hairless and very angry dog charging toward him with ears back and teeth glistening in the moonlight. Pinky took to the air, leaping five times her height, flinging herself with enough force that when her paws collided with Gateman’s chest, he stumbled backward and fell to the ground.

  “Get him, Pinky!” Teddy shouted and watched as Pinky and Gateman rolled and tumbled in a great snarly mess toward the edge of the cliff until both man and beast fell off its edge, leaving behind an eerie stillness and a cloud of dust, the kind of which Gateman had been so fond.

  For a moment, no one dared to move or to speak. “Pinky!” yelled Penny, dashing to the dropoff. She peered over into the darkness below. There was no sign of either Gateman or their beloved pet.

  “She’s gone,” said Penny. The others rushed to her side and joined her in staring at the nothingness beneath them.

  “No, she can’t be gone,” sniffed Teddy.

  Digs sniffed too. Then sniffed again. It seemed as though he smelled something. Something that human nostrils could not.

  Mr. Cheeseman dropped to his belly and hung his head over the edge of the cliff, squinting into the blackness. “It’s too dark,” he said. “I can’t see a thing.”

  “Try this,” said Teddy, handing the cell phone to his father.

  “Yes,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Excellent idea.” He popped it open and lowered his arm as far as he could over the cliff’s edge. Back and forth, he scanned the area where Pinky and Gateman had gone over the edge. Finally, he saw something. It was a tiny ledge, far too small to hold a murderous corporate villain but just large enough to accommodate a hairless fox terrier. The light from the phone hit Pinky’s eyes and they reflected back an eerie blue glow.

  “Grab my feet,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “And lower me down.”

  Dutifully, Dizzy and Jake each took an ankle and Sammy and Aristotle held on to them for added support. Together, the four men carefully lowered Mr. Cheeseman over the edge of the cliff. A moment later, he shouted out an okay and Jibby’s men pulled him back up, dragging him a few extra feet away from the side of the cliff for safety. Mr. Cheeseman sat up. Cradled in his arms was Pinky, unharmed and happily licking his face.

  The children ran to her to deliver hugs of joy and du
e praise for saving the family once again. Digs gave Pinky a look that seemed to say, “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

  “Well, I’m certainly glad your dog’s okay,” said Professor Boxley. “But I feel absolutely terrible about my assistant. Terrible, that is, that I brought him to you, the very man who killed your mother.”

  “It’s okay,” said Penny. “You didn’t know.”

  “But I should have,” said Professor Boxley. “I was so sad when I learned of your mother’s passing. She was a good woman. Beautiful and smart as a whip.”

  “Thanks,” said Chip. “It’ll be all right. We’re going to go back to just before she was poisoned to save her life.”

  The professor sighed and looked to the ground. He shuffled his feet and appeared generally uncomfortable.

  “What? What is it?” asked Penny.

  “There’s … a problem, I’m afraid,” said the professor. “A problem with the science.”

  “What kind of problem?” asked Mr. Cheeseman, though he was not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

  “I’m not certain,” said Professor Boxley, “but it appears that the Time Arc may be a one-way street.”

  Chapter 20

  By daybreak, a thick layer of clouds had rolled in and the low gray ceiling was a perfect match for the mood of the group that, only hours before, had been in such a celebratory frame of mind. So much had changed since that moment when the curse was ended, when, for once, the tide seemed to be turning their way. Now Mr. Cheeseman and his children had been advised by Professor Boxley that their plan to move forward along the Time Arc might very well be a mathematical impossibility, leaving them stranded forever in the late seventeenth century.

  They gathered in the great hall of the castle where Ulrik had summoned them, not for a wingding but for a simple thank you before they set out. For their role in ending the curse and restoring him to his throne, Ulrik determined that each of them was worthy of a handsome reward. And though he may have been the rightful owner of the White Gold Chalice and the true Duke of Jutland, this did not preclude him from being incredibly cheap, as the reward amounted to nothing more than a few measly coins each.

  “Good luck to you all,” he said with a regal wave of his hand. “I remain forever in your debt.”

  “You sure do,” mumbled Aristotle at the sight of his paltry prize.

  “All right,” said Jibby. “Let’s move out now.”

  And so off they went, Jibby and his crew, Mr. Cheeseman and his family, Big, Digs, and Professor Boxley, marching out of town and toward the forest, to the resting place of the one-way time machine known as the LVR-ZX.

  For Chip, the situation seemed especially dire. Under the worst-case scenario he and his family would be forever stuck in the past and would never again see their mother alive. However, if his genius father could somehow outsmart science itself, it very well could mean saying good-bye to Big forever. Unless he could convince her to come along. After all, she did say she would like to see the future, but did she really mean it? And even if she really wanted to go, would his father allow her to join them?

  Chip stole a glance at Big and wondered if she was entertaining the very same thoughts. But like the rest of the group, neither of them said a word as they ventured deeper and deeper into the increasingly dense forest.

  Nearly invisible with its reflective outer shell, Professor Boxley’s time machine sat right where he had left it, and this time he was lucky not to have parked it on a giant anthill.

  “Wow,” said Mr. Cheeseman at the sight of her. “She’s a beauty all right.”

  “I like the LVR better,” Teddy huffed.

  “That’s rude,” said Penny.

  “It’s also true,” said Gravy-Face Roy, preparing for a flick on the head that never came.

  “The two machines are identical, technologically speaking,” said the professor. He gave it an affectionate pat, as if the LVR-ZX were a golden retriever. “I’ve just added a few upgrades here and there for speed and comfort. And if you think it looks good from here, come check out the inside.” The professor keyed in the code and opened the pod door. “After you,” he said to Mr. Cheeseman.

  The interior of the LVR-ZX was a luxury version of the LVR, with reclining leather seats and a faux walnut control panel, which Mr. Cheeseman scrutinized carefully, finding that the professor was right. Technologically speaking, the LVR and the LVR-ZX were identical. It therefore stood to reason that if the LVR-ZX could not be made to go forward in time, then neither could his prototype, the LVR.

  “Okay,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Let’s give it a try.”

  He and the professor agreed to a test run. While the others waited outside, the two scientists would set the controls for five minutes into the future and hope for the best.

  “Stand back, everybody,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “And face the other way. The light can be pretty intense and we certainly don’t want to blind anyone.”

  Mr. Cheeseman waited until everyone was facing in the opposite direction. The last to turn was Chip. “You can do it, Dad.”

  “Thanks, Chip.”

  Mr. Cheeseman closed the door and the professor lit up the engines, which lit up the surrounding forest with a bright turquoise light. Mr. Cheeseman entered the necessary coordinates, factoring in things like gravitational pull and the Earth’s rotation. He threw the switch and the engines whirred and whined but the chronometer failed to budge. He took a deep breath and tried again with the exact same disappointing result.

  Mr. Cheeseman leaned on the control panel, his chin to his chest. He knew exactly what he wanted to say but it took a moment for the words to find their way through his tightly clamped lips. “Well, it looks as though you were right, Professor,” he said. “And now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense.”

  The pod door opened and out stepped the professor and his one-time student. Teddy was the first to turn around. “Well? Did it work?” he asked excitedly. “Is it five minutes from now?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “It appears the professor was right. The Time Arc is a one-way street.”

  So devastating was this news to the children that they felt as though they might pass out at the sound of it. “I don’t understand it,” said Penny, her voice cracking with frustration. “Jibby and his crew traveled forward through time.”

  “That’s right,” Jibby offered.

  “Not along the Time Arc, they didn’t,” said Mr. Cheeseman, barely hiding his irritation. “Electromagnetic kinesis is unpredictable and entirely uncontrollable. A lightning strike is far more likely to kill you than to transport you through time.” Mr. Cheeseman then decided he was not irritated. He was angry. Angry with himself. He threw a frustrated punch at the air, which he found to be a lot less painful than throwing one at someone’s chin. “Stupid!” he said. “I should have considered this before I put you all at risk.”

  “It’s okay, Dad,” said Penny. “It was worth the risk.”

  “It’s not okay,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “To overlook something like this is entirely unacceptable. I’m a scientist and I ignored basic science.”

  “So then … we are stuck here forever,” said Teddy.

  “Probably,” said Mr. Cheeseman. The children just stared at their father. Never before had they seen him so defeated, so utterly at a loss for an answer. Then he got that look. It was immediately recognizable. It was the look that came over him whenever he was about to announce an ingenious new plan. “Probably,” he repeated, “but not necessarily.”

  If this statement was meant to cause widespread confusion throughout the group, mission accomplished. “I don’t get it,” said Penny. “You said Professor Boxley was right. The Time Arc is a one-way street.”

  “Exactly,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “It may be a one-way street but perhaps not a dead-end street. I once knew a brilliant scientist who proposed a very interesting theory about time. This scientist suggested that time is an ever-expanding circle, and if you were t
o travel into the past, eventually you would reach the Great Sync, the place where the beginning of time meets the end of time.” Mr. Cheeseman demonstrated by making a circle with his hands. “And if you managed to get past this connector of then and when without being burned alive, you would find yourself in the future, traveling backward through time.”

  “Incredible,” said Professor Boxley. “And which scientist is the author of this fascinating theory?”

  “I know who it is,” said Penny, the words fighting their way around the lump in her throat. “It’s Olivia Cheeseman.”

  “That’s right,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Your mother is the brilliant scientist who came up with that theory.”

  “That’s what she meant,” said Penny. “That’s what she meant when she said ‘Round and round it never ends, north is south then north again.’ ”

  “I think you’re right,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “The Earth was once thought to be flat and sailors feared that if they ventured too far, they would fall off its edge.”

  “The world’s not flat?” said Dizzy. This earned him one of Captain Jibby’s patented slaps across the back of his head.

  “It’s quite round,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “Therefore if you travel due north long enough, eventually you’ll find yourself at the North Pole. From there, any step you take is south. The Great Sync could be thought of as the North Pole of time travel.”

  “Will Santa be at the big sink?” asked Teddy.

  “Perhaps,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “No one’s ever been there, so there’s no telling what it’s like.”

  “Let me get this straight,” said Chip. “Are you saying we can still get home?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mr. Cheeseman. “It’s a very good theory, but a theory is all it is. If we try it, there’s the very real possibility that we could find ourselves falling off the edge of time. And that’s just one of the many dangers. In fact, the risks are so great and so numerous that I’m going to leave the decision to you kids. With my knowledge of science, we could probably make a pretty good life for ourselves right here in 1668.”