by Arby Robbins
He glanced over at Conroe. She seemed stunned.
Had his terrible display of anger ruined his chances with her?
20
At afternoon recess, Conroe walked around the yard by herself, thinking about the basketball game that morning. She had seen Crane lose his temper before—many times. It was one of the few things she did not like about him. But to be in the same room with him when it happened was even more ugly than watching it on the time travel computer.
They had planned to take another Dream Tunnel trip during recess. She had decided it was time to tell him the truth. Now she wasn’t so sure—about anything.
“That was quite a show your boyfriend put on this morning.”
Conroe turned around. It was Tonya and the gang. “Yeah.”
“A day or two in Solitary will do him good. Maybe it’ll make a man out of him.”
Conroe started to walk away.
“Hang on, chicky.” Tonya grabbed her shoulder.
Conroe pulled away. “Keep your hands off me.”
“Whoa,” Kelsey said. “She’s a tough talker.”
The other girls laughed.
“Let’s see if she can back it up with her fists,” Tonya taunted.
“Do we really have to do this again?” Conroe asked.
“You cheated last time. I wasn’t ready.”
“I see. And now you’re ready?” Conroe asked, pointing to the three girls standing behind Tonya.
“No, this is just between you and me. Back off, girls.”
The other three stepped back.
“Okay, now,” Tonya said, “let’s do it.”
“If we must,” Conroe replied, closing her eyes.
“What are you doing? Open your eyes. This is gonna be a fair fight.”
“No, I’m afraid it’s not. So, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Open your eyes!”
“I’m ready,” Conroe said. “Go ahead—give me your best shot.”
“No problem.” Tonya took a swing at Conroe’s jaw.
With her eyes still closed, Conroe moved her head slightly as Tonya’s fist approached her face, evading impact by mere millimeters.
“Lucky move!” Tonya spat, following up with the other fist.
Again, Conroe moved her head to the side, avoiding injury.
“How are you doing that?” Tonya raised her foot and jabbed it at Conroe’s stomach.
Conroe hopped back, out of Tonya’s range. Her eyes were still closed.
Somebody in Tonya’s gang giggled.
“Shut up!” Tonya looked back to see who was laughing at her.
All three were stifling laughter.
“Alright, I’m tired of messing around.” She yelled like a banshee as she ran toward Conroe at full speed.
Conroe sidestepped her, eyes still closed.
Tonya tripped and fell on the ground, face first.
The other three could no longer contain their laughter.
Tonya ignored them. “How are you doing that with your stinking eyes closed?”
“It’s called Gomwei.”
“What is that—some martial arts crap?”
“Something like that.”
“You can open your eyes now,” Tonya said. “I’m not gonna hit you.”
“That’s for sure,” Kelsey jabbed.
Conroe opened her eyes.
Tonya took a swing at her nose.
Conroe stopped the fist with the palm of her hand, within two inches of her nose. “You lied.”
“So?”
Conroe twisted Tonya’s fist sharply, rotating it 180 degrees.
Tonya screeched and fell to her knees.
“Do not bother me or Crane anymore. Understood?”
“Yes, yes—just let go.”
21
It was nearly midnight—one hour past Lights Out. Crane lay in his bed, wide awake, thinking about Conroe. He had never met anyone like her. She was strong and smart and pretty, and when he was with her, more than anything, he wanted to hold her in his arms, to kiss her. Every time he lay down to dream with her, holding her hand, he could feel the blood in his veins pulsing against the blood in hers.
But because he had let his anger get out of control on the basketball court today, he would be locked in his room for three days. Why didn’t Old Cracker send him to Solitary? He wondered if she had been there watching the game and had seen for herself that Number 44 was a bully. Maybe she figured the kid had it coming. Regardless, she couldn’t allow Crane to act inappropriately and go completely unpunished.
Being locked in his room wasn’t nearly as bad as Solitary. At least here he could play his guitar and sing all day. He hadn’t even bothered to change into his pajamas. He wasn’t sleepy anyway, having taken a long nap that afternoon. Being locked in wouldn’t have been a punishment at all before he met Conroe. But now it was different. Anything that kept him away from her was torture. He had played his guitar for much of the day, even writing a song about how much he missed her.
Crane heard someone outside his door, trying to unlock it. But who would come to his room at this hour, other than Old Cracker? And why would she come, unless she suspected he was breaking some rule?
The door opened, and light from the hallway flooded his room. Conroe was standing in the doorway.
He sat up in bed. “Conroe?”
“Shush.” She stepped inside and closed the door. The room went black again.
“How did you—?”
“Magic.” She sat down on the side of his bed.
“I wish I could see you.”
A flashlight beam appeared under her chin. “How’s this?”
“Where’d you get that?”
“I have my sources.” She smiled. “I thought I might need it to wake you up.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
She shined the light on him. “You’re not even dressed for bed.”
“Yeah, I was just lying here feeling sorry for myself because I wasn’t gonna get to see you for three days—thanks to me acting like a complete idiot on the basketball court today.”
“I thought you were pretty cool. You made some great shots, and when you dunked over that big guy—it was amazing. You were literally flying.”
“Yeah, I surprised myself—I don’t know how I did that. But I shouldn’t have taken a swing at him.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed. “You looked mad—crazy mad. That was kind of scary.”
“I know. Sometimes my adrenaline kicks in and I just go nuts,” he said.
“Is that what you call it—going nuts?”
“Yeah—and when I do, it feels like nothing can stop me. I feel super powerful. Of course, I’m really not, but that’s what it feels like. And then I do stupid things, like punching that guy. Losing my temper is what got me kicked out of my last foster home. I’ve got to learn to keep it under control.”
“He did deserve it, though.”
“Yeah, he did,” Crane replied. “Are you here so we can go to the Dream Tunnel?”
“Are you up for it?”
“Sure, why not? Hey, let’s take the flashlight with us.”
“We can’t do that—it won’t work,” she said. “But we don’t need it anymore, right? We know what we’re doing.”
“I guess so.”
Conroe turned off the flashlight and rolled it under the bed. She lay down alongside Crane and took his hand. “Okay, just relax.”
Crane felt her soft, wonderful hand in his. He would go anywhere with her. He closed his eyes, and they opened immediately. “How did we get into the dream so fast this time?”
“You’re learning. It gets easier with experience. Run!”
He followed her, running across the bridge before the fog could dissipate, using the handrails for guidance.
Once they reached the other side, they didn’t even wait for the bridge to collapse behind them. She took his hand, and they ran into the Dream Tunnel.
“I stil
l wish we could bring a flashlight,” he said.
“Isn’t it enough they we’re in it together?”
“Well, sure, but—” He tripped and lost his grip on Conroe’s hand, falling on the rocky ground.
“Crane, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. These rocks are sharp, though. I think I cut my hand.”
“Hurry, get up! We’re already getting some light.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Then we’ll be able to see the—spiders!” He jumped to his feet. “There are spiders all over the place.”
“And I think they’re poisonous,” she said.
“You think?”
“The wind is picking up. We’ve got to go now. Run!”
She grabbed his hand, and they ran toward the light.
The wind grew stronger, slowing their pace until they were barely moving forward.
“Keep pushing,” she yelled over the roaring wind. “We have to make it out of here.”
“Or what? Can’t we go back?”
“No, it’s too late! The back of the tunnel is already closed off. We have to go out this end.”
“Let’s just wake up,” he suggested.
“We can’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Run, Crane! Run as fast as you can. Go nuts!”
Crane took a deep breath and by sheer will pumped up the adrenaline in his body to a monstrous level. He howled like a maniac, running into the hurricane-force wind with all his might, holding tightly to Conroe’s hand.
She screamed, pushing her leg muscles beyond their limits.
The wind blew even harder, threatening to blow them off their feet. They continued to push, leaning into the wind, into the blinding light.
Just when Crane thought his heart might explode from the stress, they fell out onto the grass.
They lay spent, looking up at a clear blue sky.
After he had caught his breath and regained his composure, Crane sat up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Conroe sat up and took both of his hands in hers. “I’ve got to tell you something.” Concern filled her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I really like you, Crane.”
“I really like you too.” Maybe she wanted him to kiss her—but that was nothing to be concerned about. He hadn’t kissed many girls, so he probably wasn’t very good at it, but…he leaned in.
“But I’ve been lying to you,” she said.
“Lying? No, you haven’t been lying—you just hadn’t told me yet. But I already knew anyway.”
“You knew what?”
“That you like me,” he replied.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“What then?”
“I tricked you. I told you I was taking you into a dream world.”
“Well, it was a very cool trick then,” he said, smiling and looking around.
“No, listen—this is not a dream world. We’re not dreaming.”
“Huh?”
“This is real,” she continued. “Everything you see is real.”
“Then where are we, and how did we get here?” he asked. “Wait—did you drug me or something?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that. This is…the future.”
“The future?”
“Well, for you it is,” she said. “For me, it’s the present. I brought you here because I…fell in love with you while I was watching you grow up.”
“How did you watch me grow up? We just met. Wait—you’re in love with me?” He grinned.
“Yes. And I wanted you to come here and be with me in my world.”
“In your world…in the future? This isn’t the future, Conroe. It’s eighteenth-century England.”
“No, it just looks like eighteenth-century England. We’re in Texas.”
Crane began to feel dizzy.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“What year is it?”
“2521,” she answered.
He turned away and barfed on the grass.
“Oh, Crane, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I just couldn’t think of any other way to get you here—to show you my world.”
“I don’t understand. Which part was real, and which part was a dream?”
“All of it was real,” she said. “As soon as you closed your eyes and relaxed, we went into transport mode.”
“Transport mode? What the heck is that? What about the bridge and the Dream Tunnel? How could those be real? Every time we crossed the bridge, the thing fell apart, but then the next time it was back in its original state. How could that be real? And if it is real, I nearly died on that thing.”
“I don’t fully understand that part myself. I just know that it’s the only way to bring somebody here from another time.”
“But how did we go back so fast?” he asked. “We didn’t have to use the Dream Tunnel or the bridge to go back to my world.”
“That’s true—and I don’t know why. I didn’t invent the time travel computer—my great grandfather did. I found it in the cellar a few months ago. My great grandfather Harry was an inventor who lived in Conroe, Texas. He perfected time travel in the year 2037 and sent himself to the future—to the year 2400. He couldn’t wait to see how technology had progressed over the years. But what he found was shocking. The people didn’t even have electricity.”
“How did that happen?” he asked.
“That’s what Harry wanted to find out. So, he popped into various time periods to see what was happening, and he discovered war after war, with increasingly sophisticated weaponry that not only killed people and blew up buildings and roads and bridges, it also destroyed power grids, computer networks, and finally all electrical and electronic equipment.”
“Whoa.” Crane felt a major headache coming on.
“So, he decided to move to the year 2400 permanently, without telling anyone else, and use his knowledge and skills to help the people rebuild society in a way that would not result in war. He was an orphan and had no family, so that made the decision easier. In his new world, he tirelessly worked with people, teaching them and encouraging them. Soon he became revered, and someone started a movement to make him their king. Harry told them he had no interest in being a king, but the people insisted and began building a castle for him. Finally, he relented and became their benevolent king.”
“If you have no electricity here, how do you power a computer?” he asked.
“The time travel computer runs on a special battery that Harry invented. Apparently, it lasts forever when it is not in use.”
“So it will take you to any time period?” he asked.
“Yes. I can travel back and forth instantaneously—if I travel alone. When I bring someone here with me from another time period, both of us have to go over that bridge and through the tunnel. We’re in some kind of limbo when we’re in there—we’re just electrons inside the computer. So you definitely don’t want to get stuck in there. Taking you back is easy.”
“That’s what I want to do. I want to go back—now,” he said.
“Please, Crane—give it a chance.”
“I can’t.” He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m crazy about you, Conroe, but I can’t do this.”
Conroe’s eyes reddened. “I’m so sorry.”
22
Crane woke up in his bed with his stomach churning.
He ran to the toilet, flipped up the seat, and vomited. He flushed the toilet, sat down in front of it, and closed his eyes, hoping his stomach would settle. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw blood on the toilet bowl rim. He checked his hand, remembering how he had cut it on a rock in the tunnel. When he saw the gash in the palm of his hand, he barfed again.
The Dream Tunnel wasn’t a dream.
23
Conroe popped into her bedroom in the castle.
Geneva was sitting at the time travel computer.
“I may have lost him for g
ood, Geneva.”
Geneva turned around. “I know. I’m sorry, Conroe.”
“Maybe if I had done this weeks ago and taken my time with him—brought him along slowly. It was just too much all at once.”
“Yes, that might have been better,” Geneva agreed, “but you knew your mother would be furious with you when she found out you were using the time travel computer.”
“I wasn’t even supposed to know it existed,” Conroe said.
“Wally knew you had it, though, and he didn’t try to take it away from you. But then you’ve always had your dad wrapped around your little finger.”
“He knew I wasn’t in love with any of the suitors my mother chose for me. I should have gone after Crane weeks ago.”
“I understand why you didn’t,” Geneva consoled. “Time travel is dangerous at best, and we didn’t know if the time travel computer even worked. It’s a wonder you didn’t die.”
“Maybe I’ve just been kidding myself all along, thinking that Crane and I could be together.”
“Look what time it is,” Geneva said. “Did you forget about the party? It starts in just over an hour. Your father has already dropped by twice to check on you. He says the queen will die of embarrassment if you’re late. She invited hundreds of guests.”
“I do not want to marry Will Wincraft. He’s a nice enough guy, and I could probably learn to love him…eventually…to some degree, but I want Crane.”
“I know you do,” Geneva replied, “but if he doesn’t want you…”
“Maybe Mother is right,” Conroe said. “At any rate, I cannot let her down. I will become queen.”
24
The Royal Banquet Hall served as the venue for all parties hosted by the queen. With a capacity for one thousand guests, it easily accommodated all the high-ranking officials and prominent business owners of the kingdom, as well as their families.
At one end, a massive, three-tier, semicircle staircase extended across the full width of the hall. The first tier, the largest one, served as a stage for the Royal String Orchestra, which was playing one of the queen’s favorite pieces: Mozart’s Serenade No. 13. The second, smaller tier was intended for a speaker or an ensemble of singers. The top tier, the Royal Tier, was for the queen and her husband, who observed the activities below from their royal chairs. A door at the rear of the Royal Tier opened to the main hallway of the second floor, which led to the royal living quarters.