WHEELS

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WHEELS Page 4

by Lorijo Metz


  Principal Provost shifted his gaze as far away from Mrs. Snipe as possible, aware that she was smiling at him.

  Thank goodness. Mary Boncher appeared to be reaching the end of her speech. “And now I’d like to introduce Mimi Rosenbush,” she said. “Mimi is going to give us a preview of next year’s Parent-Teacher Partnership Program. I’m sure Principal Provost would agree planning for our children’s future is an effort well worth…”

  Blast it! If only Revolvos had listened to me. If only I’m not too late. IF ONLY THIS WOMAN WOULD STOP TALKING!

  Chapter 6

  DIARY OF JULIANNE WELLS

  London, England 1896

  continued…

  Upon entering the study, the pounding, pulsating sound became almost overwhelming. My brother was nowhere in sight. Uncommonly eager regarding his safety and disregarding all protocol, I placed the teacup and saucer upon his desk, crossed to a bookcase in the back of the room, and withdrew a tattered book entitled, Olmecs and the Cultivation of the Rubber Tree. Reaching into the empty space, I twisted a handle hidden therein; then, stood back and watched as the door to Herbert’s secret laboratory slid open.

  The pulsating sound, overwhelming a mere second ago, was now deafening. My eyes did not—could not comprehend the chaos which lay before me. A whirling tempest spinning out of control, yet like so many pieces of a shattered mirror, a storm clearly composed of what had once been my brother’s laboratory. Slowly, very slowly, for it was as if the sound itself was pulling me forward, I stepped in. Words cannot do justice to the moment, for as my foot entered the room, it was as if my body began merging, bit-by-bit, blurring into a vast swirling storm of debris.

  Frightened, I stepped back relieved to find myself whole again. The experience had not been painful in a physical sense, but indeed, excruciating to my sensitive and yet unworldly perception.

  The next part is still not clear, whether I saw Herbert sitting inside his invention within the storm, or only heard him, the sound of his voice imprinting the suggestion of him on my mind. Whichever, the image will be forever fixed, remembered as the very last time I saw my brother, combined with the sound of him shouting, “It works Julianne, it works!”

  Paralyzed, I remained on the edge of the precipice fearing for my life, for Herbert’s life, but not for one instant believing that he was traveling through time or space; but rather, that through his experimentations he had disrupted something. I could not imagine what, but likely, it was threatening to do great harm to Herbert, to our house, and possibly, to our world.

  All these thoughts ran through my mind as I stood there for what seemed an eternity, when suddenly I became aware of the sound again…fainter now.

  I breathed for what I believed was the first time in several minutes, relieved to find I could now discern the outline of my brother’s form amidst the storm.

  Dazed, I watched, hopeful that my brother, as well as the room, would return to their solid state. Slowly the oak walls and floor, tools and tables, chairs and lamps, and other fixtures perfectly reestablished themselves to their former positions. However, as my brother’s form became clearer, filling in like the center of a jigsaw puzzle, I had the uneasy feeling that something was not right.

  The next moment I gasped in horror, for there in front of me was this thing; an abomination of nature! Resulting, I was certain, from an incorrect joining of the particles that made up my brother and his machine. Herbert appeared, to my unsettled mind, to possess one large sphere where his legs had once been.

  Now, dear diary, I must pause…

  ***

  FAR, FAR, AWAY…

  Monday, March 16th

  McKenzie waited, afraid to do or say anything. Truthfully, she wanted Hayes to touch the box. To see if anything would happen, because—maybe it wasn’t only her. Maybe she wasn’t crazy. Maybe—

  “It’s not warm anymore,” Hayes announced, shrugging his shoulders and turning away. “Must have imagined it.”

  Imagined? McKenzie chose her words carefully, watching Hayes’ face for any kind of reaction. “Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I imagine things like that all the time.”

  Hayes’ brown eyes crinkled in obvious amusement. “What ‘things’ do you imagine?”

  “Nothing!” McKenzie looked down at her paper. “Nothing at all,” she snapped.

  Hayes continued to fiddle with the box. “I can’t open this. I can’t even see through the glass; it’s grimy.”

  McKenzie looked up. Hayes was holding the box. He poked and prodded, feeling around the edges as if looking for a button, a hook, or anything he could push or maneuver to open it. After a thorough but fruitless search, he placed the box on the floor and began walking around it, examining it from all angles.

  “What do you think?” she whispered, unable to control her curiosity.

  Hayes shook his head. “Probably empty.”

  “NO. It’s NOT!” McKenzie blushed. “There is something, I saw it.”

  “Then you open it.” Hayes picked up the box and set the box on McKenzie’s tray. “My aunt says girls are better at finding things. I suppose you qualify.”

  McKenzie ignored him and stared at the pale-blue box. Sitting on top of her tray, it towered over her head by at least a foot.

  “Don’t worry.” Hayes strolled over and planted himself in front of the door. “I’ll keep watch.”

  McKenzie felt strangely calm considering Principal Provost or Miss Chantos could appear at any moment. Slowly, very slowly, she touched the glass. Or rather, reached through it, for it had become frighteningly clear that there was nothing there except a thin film of loosely knit molecules creating a smoky screen of confusion for anyone who looked. Anyone, it seemed, except McKenzie.

  As McKenzie’s hand penetrated the smoky haze, the sound she’d heard earlier began to reverberate through her head, pulsing twice as loud now. Whether Hayes heard it too, she couldn’t tell. Hayes was whispering loudly in the background, “Put it back, put it back, he’s coming.” But, McKenzie was no longer entirely of this world. She was part of the box—her hand merging with the molecules, beating with a force not entirely her own.

  Inside the box, sitting squarely in the center, was a small pyramid. The box was larger on the inside than on the outside, which for some reason didn’t surprise her. On the tip of the pyramid, perfectly balanced, was a thin, rectangular tile of metal. It shimmered. McKenzie had the impression that she only sensed the shimmer, rather than saw it—like waves of heat rolling across desert sand. She paused to wonder why Principal Provost would have such an object, and then slowly, carefully, reached for the tile.

  Outside the office door, Principal Provost could be heard fending off Nurse Prickel. “Principal Provost, you look plumb tuckered out. You’ve been doing too much for these kids. Take a vacation, someplace far away…”

  McKenzie lifted the shimmering tile off the tip of the pyramid. As if she’d removed the stopper from a jar filled with angry, buzzing hornets, all chaos broke loose. The pyramid, the tile, the box—and then McKenzie began to spin apart, breaking into tiny particles, flowing into a stream. It was like falling into a river—a melting golden river—only instead of drowning, she became the river. And it happened so fast. Alone, McKenzie might have been able to pull herself free, but Hayes was suddenly standing behind her, blocking her escape—and Hayes, undoubtedly shocked by the vision before him, was not going anywhere.

  McKenzie tried to warn him, but she couldn’t find her mouth. Holding on to the back of McKenzie’s chair the solid form of Rudy Hayes swiftly rearranged itself and became one with the river.

  Right before they disappeared, McKenzie thought she heard Principal Provost’s voice.

  “Concentric help me,” he exclaimed, “she’s GONE!”

  Chapter 7

  Excerpt from the personal log of Agent Wink Krumm

  Monday, March 16th

  Just outside Avondale

  The time has come for me to set out on what I refer
to as: Krumm’s Tour of Back Roads and Forgotten Highways. After a quick perusal of agency archives, I’ve gathered enough information to make this trip something to write home about.

  ********

  …an abandoned farm road, innocent enough, which should lead me straight to the little town of Avondale. A town I’ve recently discovered possesses a most “interesting” statistic. Sitting smack in the middle of a valley, surrounded by hills and farms, and isolated from the rest of humanity, Avondale has three major manufacturing plants and the largest population of wheelchair residents in the world. The ENTIRE World!

  Why? I have to ask myself. Why here? Conspiracy? Relocation? And now, of course, I have to know.

  ***

  MIXED MOLECULES

  Monday, March 16th

  Somewhere in the Universe

  She felt like stardust. As if her body had shattered it into a trillion pieces and been tossed it into a swirling stream of particles. Bits and pieces of metal and stars, planets and fibers, McKenzie and—Hayes?

  Hayes was here too. McKenzie could feel him, or—YUCK—she was him. At least a fragment of him. Creepier still, she could read his mind.

  I can’t believe he thinks I’m a snob!

  Pink? Hayes’ favorite color is pink?

  Sad? Hayes was sad. At least some particle of him. It wasn’t a thought; not like the color pink or the image of McKenzie.

  The incorrect image of McKenzie!

  No. More of an ache. An old ache.

  What am I seeing?

  Someone was crying. McKenzie could almost feel the tears. Whoever it was, was looking up, arms held wide, extended towards two people, a light-skinned man and a darker-skinned woman. They looked angry, maybe a little sad. Especially the woman. Sad and lost, thought McKenzie. Then a voice from behind shouted, “Leave! Take your drugs and guns and get out of my house.”

  “He’s my boy,” said the woman, but without much conviction. She held out her hand.

  McKenzie felt the boy—Hayes, only younger—reach back. Then there was a sharp tug around his waist, pulling him away. “He don’t need parents like you. Go, before I call the cops.”

  So, Hayes’ parents didn’t die. They abandoned him.

  The moment McKenzie thought this, the images disappeared, as if Hayes had snatched them back and hidden them away.

  Guilt?

  An overwhelming rush of guilt washed over McKenzie, only it didn’t belong to her. Hayes feels guilty because…? McKenzie began surfing the particle stream. Because his mother left? But why? You were just a kid.

  So were you.

  Whoa, that last thought had not been hers. Hayes was reading her mind! Fragments of McKenzie flew in all directions, dodging Hayes, dodging stars. “Stay out of my memories,” she screamed.

  Or at least tried to. Without a mouth, it was more like a telepathic blast.

  What if Hayes had seen her nightmare? Oh no. NO! Worse—much worse! What if he knew how she felt? What if he thought she—! Somewhere in the confusion of particles, pieces of McKenzie were turning red—flashing siren, emergency red! “I don’t like you,” she thought-screamed. “I mean, I do like you—but not like that!”

  Is this what it’s like to be dead?

  Hayes again. McKenzie was sure of it, but she had no answer for him. Dead? This didn’t feel like death. It felt more like being recycled. They were alive, but in what form?

  Suddenly, the pounding, pulsing reverberation McKenzie had heard back in Principal Provost’s office returned. One, one thousand; two, one thousand; three, one thousand…McKenzie began counting the pulses, surrendering to the rhythm of the stream. Six, one thousand; seven, one thousand; eight, one thousand…

  My heart! McKenzie’s heart was beating along with the pulse of the stream. We’re not dead. “Whatever this is, it isn’t death!” she screamed with every particle of her being.

  Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two… Her heart was beating faster and, all at once, she sensed a change.

  Hayes was gone.

  Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…fragments of McKenzie began slipping out of the stream, flowing like quicksand through an infinitely small hole in the universe. Follow, she thought. Follow. Don’t get left behind.

  The stream began to slow, lingering, drawn-out, slower and slower until there seemed to be no passage of time at all. Minutes, maybe even hours passed between heartbeats. McKenzie forgot about the particle stream, about Hayes, about everything…and, for one brief moment, existed. Simply existed.

  The moment became a picture, only not static and one-dimensional, but an entire moment captured with all other dimensions and feelings intact. It was as if she was in two places at once. There was the McKenzie viewing the moment and the McKenzie living it. Moreover, both McKenzies became aware that there was someone else present, only it wasn’t Hayes. And it wasn’t human!

  The presence began to take shape, a golden, willowy, human-like shape.

  A shape for our benefit, thought the two McKenzies. More powerful than anything they had ever experienced. Yet, they sensed something else; the being was nervous.

  A god wouldn’t be nervous. Why is it nervous?

  Both McKenzies reached out. It was like touching something solid, but not solid. As if the presence had put the image of solid into their mind.

  The presence began to shimmer. Thoughts formed. Coming. Not here yet. Searching.

  And suddenly both McKenzies understood. Another presence, like the first, was on its way. The first presence began to fade.

  It’s afraid?

  The McKenzie captured in the present moment reached out. “Help me to understand you.” The figure shimmered, took its two willowy limbs and placed them upon her head. Both McKenzies shut their eyes and allowed the pulse of the particle stream to flow back in, joining them as one into real time.

  Right before she slipped away, McKenzie thought she heard the presence whisper, “Help them!”

  Then McKenzie was back in the stream, frantically trying to follow Hayes through an infinitely small hole. Memories of the passing moment replaced by the needs of the present.

  The pulses slowed. Shadows danced in front of McKenzie’s eyes, and it dawned on her that if she could see, she must have eyes. And if I can see—

  This thought was interrupted by a cough. McKenzie was suffocating. How do I breathe? Breathe? How do I breathe? Panic overwhelmed her. McKenzie screamed, bringing air into her oxygen deprived lungs and—

  SLAP! “Get a hold of yourself, Mac.”

  Hayes was in front of her. Not particles of Hayes, but all of him. And, as far as she could tell, perfectly reassemble into his old, Rudy Hayes self. Although, he didn’t look quite as cocky. Hayes’ eyes grew wide and McKenzie could almost see the blood drain from his face. He pointed at something, his head did a funny little twitch and he turned, blocking McKenzie’s view.

  McKenzie studied her hands. “I’m solid!” And was relieved to find her legs, her chair and even her chewed up pencils rearranged properly back into place.

  Wherever they were, it was cold, dark and clammy. McKenzie was sure she could hear the sound of waves crashing against something solid. She shivered, not because she was cold—because she was scared. Avondale was located in a valley, surrounded by mountains and desert. There were springs, a few small lakes, but not an ocean in sight.

  Think, McKenzie, think!

  Mountains had caves, caves had water and—this felt like a cave. At least what she imagined a cave felt like. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled a thick, sweet scent, more fruity than fishy. It made her gag and feel slightly nauseous. Where could they be?

  Hayes was standing so close a step back and he’d be on her lap. Under normal circumstances, McKenzie would have shoved him aside. But, these were definitely not normal circumstances. Since she couldn’t see in front of her, McKenzie slowly, very slowly, looked back. An action she instantly regretted.

  Behind them loomed a wide, gaping black tunnel. Strange shapes, some of th
em massive, jutted out top and bottom like jagged teeth waiting for their prey. Visions of bats and bears, lions or worse, sent fear coursing through her body. McKenzie turned and, without a second thought, shoved Hayes.

  Hayes jerked forward and then instantly back, drawn like a magnet to McKenzie’s wheelchair.

  “HAYES!” she screamed.

  “HAYES, Hayes, Hayes…” the cave echoed.

  McKenzie shut her eyes and willed herself to stop shivering. Then, once again, she shoved. This time Hayes landed forward and slightly left, and McKenzie could now see in front of her.

  They'd landed on a smooth, semi-circular portion of the cave. Almost man-made in appearance, it bumped up against a small pool of water trickling under an oddly shaped opening. What light there was came from there. The rest of the cave was scattered with an assortment of stalagmites and stalactites. Some, so thick and long, they stood like pillars supporting the cave’s roof. Most, though, little more than growths, ugly pointed warts sprouting from the cave’s surface.

  “Ah!” It was a short, high-pitched eruption and sounded more alien than anything McKenzie had encountered so far. It was Hayes…so afraid he wasn’t even worried about sounding cool. Arms plastered against his sides, fingers spread wide, he was fixated on something near his feet.

  Carefully, slowly, trying not to make any noise, McKenzie backed up to get a better view. A little white ball of fluff, sniffing and grunting, wiggled its way between Hayes’ legs.

  A puppy!

  Hayes picked up his right leg and stepped aside. The puppy darted closer to McKenzie and yipped.

  “Rudy Hayes, I am never going to let you live this down. It’s a fluffing puppy!” McKenzie laughed. If a puppy was here, civilization couldn’t be far away.

  The puppy stopped sniffing, cocked his head and sneezed. McKenzie leaned over to pet it, but it turned around and—

  Holy Snaps!

  McKenzie shook her head.

  Holy Super Snaps!

  Her mind struggled to grasp what her eyes had seen. The creature had two front paws like any normal puppy, but instead of hind legs it had a round, wheel-like appendage. Like a soccer ball. The puppy rolled. He’d rolled away! What’s more, he was fast—and now completely out of sight.

 

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