Chapter 3
They relaxed just a tad. Obviously, the Professor’s sense of reality was a little off, although somehow, he did not seem threatening or dangerous. However, it didn’t alter the fact that they positively could not find a door and they needed to leave.
Reece leaned closer to Sean. “Do you remember seeing wheels on this thing?”
Sean thought briefly. “Well, we didn’t step up into this. . .place, so I can’t see how it could have wheels.”
Reece’s mouth creased into the tiniest smile. “Well, if we didn’t step up to get in here, and it doesn’t have wheels, then it must be a little hut so we can’t go anywhere.”
Sean’s face lifted. “The Professor is. . .one card shy of a deck.” He’d heard that phrase used somewhere. “So, maybe there’s another way to get out of here, and he just isn’t telling us about it. Let’s look.”
“A doorknob,” said Reece. “We need to check for a doorknob.”
While the children searched for a doorknob, the Professor continued to fiddle with dials arranged in vast arrays along the entire wall. Finally, he exclaimed. “That should do it, I hope.” And he stepped back to wait.
The children heard Bear sniff ferociously at something then turned around when their dog uttered a low growl. His nose followed a ball as it rolled slowly along the floor. It was about the size and color of a grapefruit. Suddenly, it stopped and dozens of blinking lights sprung out all over its round body.
“Stop following me or I’ll spit on you!” it hissed.
Bear’s ears shot up as the children widened their eyes. Bear took one more cautious sniff, sidled behind the children, and watched the grapefruit from a safe distance.
The children looked back at their dog. He sat there with his head drooped and quivering. He’d never been afraid of anything before. What was in that blue Frisbee he ate?
They stepped forward and cautiously bent down. The ball was perfectly smooth on the outside, but there were lights flickering on and off close to the surface as well as deep within. Several times the ball turned on all its lights at the same time. The surface lights were arranged in seven circles evenly spaced around the ball. Inside each circle were seven triangles with a point of light in the corner of each angle, so that twenty-one lights blinked within each circle. As they stepped even closer, suddenly a rod pierced its top and two small propellers shot out, and they began to whirl. The ball lifted off the floor, flew to the end of the cot, and set itself down on the floor. Then, they heard this squeaky growling sound as if it were actually grumbling about something in a disgusted sort of way. . .a little bit like the Professor did. Finally, it snapped off all its lights.
The children had followed the grapefruit through its entire routine. They blinked a few times then turned to each other in wonder. A grapefruit that talks and flies?
“What do you think it is?” Reece asked her brother.
“You’re two years older; you ask,” Sean whispered back.
“Uh, Professor?”
“What is it?!”
“Wh-what’s that thing?”
The Professor turned around and searched the entire area finally ending where the grapefruit sat. “Well, that’s put the lid on it! What did you say to her?”
“Nothing,” they both said. It was impossible to imagine that a grapefruit could possibly be insulted, but somehow they’d done just that.
“She is very sensitive and one must exercise extreme caution not to offend her.”
“Really, we did not say one single word to, uh, her,” said Reece. “We just looked at it. . .her.”
“Well, she positively abhors people staring at her. She tolerates short glances, but I wouldn’t even do that very often.”
“So, she’s a girl grapefruit,” said Sean giving the round object the briefest of glances. “Does she have a name?” he added.
“My dear boy, of course she has a name!”
He’s given his grapefruit a name. Well, that was a first.
“What do you call her?” asked Reece.
“ANNA.”
Sean searched his memory bank for the standard response parents gave each other. “That’s a nice name.”
The Professor sighed exhaustedly as he stared at the ceiling attempting to collect his thoughts. “It is not just a nice name. ANNA is an acronym for Aerial Nautical Navigation Assistant.”
Neither child was sure where to start with this. “What’s an acronym?” asked Sean.
The Professor squeezed the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. “Just how old are you two?”
“Well,” Sean wet his lips. “I’m seven, and Reece is nine.”
“I see, well I’ll see what I can do here. I must think of something that is common in your time period.” The Professor stroked his long, narrow face for a few seconds. “Have you ever heard of SCUBA diving where someone puts on a tank with a hose leading to the mouth so he can breathe underwater?” After the children nodded their heads vigorously, he continued. “I see, well, at least you know something. SCUBA is an acronym, and the letters stand for Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus.”
Sean looked up at Reece in surprise. “I didn’t know that, did you?”
The Professor cut in. “Well, now you both learned something. In the case of ANNA, the “A” means aerial or having to do with the air. A set of blades pops out of the top, and she can fly in the air.” Then there’s the first “N”. That stands for nautical having a bit to do with the sea, since she can swim underwater if necessary.”
Swim underwater. The children didn’t dare look at each other. It was plain to see that the Professor expected a great deal out of this round ball.
“Now we come to the second “N” which is navigation.”
Sean thrust up his hand. “I know what that means. When we go somewhere, whoever sits in the passenger seat is the navigator and reads the map and tells the driver where to turn.”
The Professor lifted a lazy eyebrow. “Right, well ANNA has built in radar and a GPS, so if I get lost, she leads the way back here.” At that, he turned back to the bank of blinking lights.
“What does the last “A” stand for?” asked Reece.
“Oh, assistant. She’s my assistant. So, there you have it. ANNA is an acronym for Aerial Nautical Navigation Assistant.”
Sean dared another glance at the ball sulking in the corner. “So, where did you buy this thing?”
The Professor’s hands froze over the dials for a full five seconds before he turned around. He stretched his considerable height over the children. They would have stepped back except for Bear who still cowered behind them. “One does not buy a brilliant piece of equipment like ANNA, one designs and constructs her.”
Reece had grave doubts about this grapefruit-like ball. “I know ANNA is a girl’s name, but why do you call it a ‘she’?”
The Professor had already returned to his work, but muttered irritably. “Didn’t you hear her speak? It’s distinctly a female voice.”
“Sounds kind of grouchy,” Sean said.
ANNA blinked one set of seven lights and actually harumphed and snorted, then snapped them off again.
The Professor sighed. “Yes, a true harridan,” he said with a note of regret.
Did they dare ask? But, their silence spoke volumes, and the Professor cleared his throat before whispering. “A harridan is a cranky, bad-tempered old woman.”
Well, ANNA definitely fell into that category if what they’d heard so far was an example. Reece looked up at the Professor’s back. “Can a man be a harridan, too?”
The Professor’s hands ceased fluttering, and he slowly turned around. “Certainly not! But by virtue of what you just asked, I do wonder if you had someone specifically in mind.” His left eyebrow arched to the middle of his forehead.
Honesty was highly valued in their house, but they’d been taught to choose arguments wisely. Maybe this was one of those times. “Oh, no,” Reece assure
d the snarling face. “I just, well, I just. . .”
“She just wanted to know.” Sean was so good at rescuing.
A buzzer sounded on the control panel, and the Professor turned back. “Good. We’re there.”
The Door Into Time Page 3