CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – BREAKFAST
"Thomas Oakley, you are a brave lad. Many would consider you heroic considering what you have gone through these last few weeks,” the Professor said after Septimus had left.
“That’s rubbish, Prof. I’m no hero. I’ve spent most of the last few weeks terrified or running away. Heroes are brave and fear nothing.”
“Where then is the heroism?”
“Eh? What do you mean?” Tom frowned.
“A man who fears nothing and stands in danger’s path is not heroic. He might be considered perhaps foolish, or maybe lucky not to be afraid, but why heroic? More heroic is the man who is afraid and still faces the danger: because he chooses to for others’ sake – like you did, despite your misgivings about your talents, and despite the fact that you really just want to be normal, Thomas Oakley.”
“I see what you mean, sir. But I ... I mean, well I couldn’t leave those three to die. It wouldn’t be right,” Tom said.
“Maybe that is so, but there are many who would. Yes, you are brave. You will need all that courage in the time to come. Before this business with Redfeld is finished, before we try and rescue your family, you will also need to believe that what I – what we – must do will come right in the end. Belief is very important, Thomas. It’s all to do with acorns really.”
Tom blinked. Acorns? Had he heard the Professor right? “I’m sorry?”
Neoptolemas smiled. “Let me tell you a short story, Thomas.” He glanced over towards the fireplace. Tom followed his gaze to where, above the mantelpiece, was mounted a photo of an old building made of stone, but with a wooden roof. “That is my college at Oxford. Very old it is and possesses a great hall, used in my day and I think even now, for formal meals. The hall has a striking vaulted ceiling supported by timber archways all made from aged oak – black and woodwormed with age.
“Five hundred years ago, the then Master of the college ordered the Head Groundsman to plant acorns in readiness for the day when the roof would need replacing. Three hundred years later the then Master of the day looked up at the then rotten and derelict roof and announced that the college must have a new roof. ‘But’ – said the Bursar of the college – ‘where will we get the wood, for we have not enough money?’ At which point the Head Groundsman of the day popped up and said something like, ‘It’s funny you should say that but...’ for of course, by then the oak trees were mature and ready for cutting.”
Tom nodded still not sure what the Professor was getting at.
“The point is this, Thomas: when the original Master and Groundsman planted their acorns they were making a leap of faith and had tremendous trust that one day it would all make sense and their actions would be worthwhile. They knew it would be long after their time, but they were content to play their part in a bigger plan. Hold on to that idea Tom in the days ahead. If it all seems too big and beyond you, then trust that it will all come good in the end: remember that from little acorns great oaks do grow,” the old man finished with a smile and then added, “go; rest a while. If you like it, we have a telly in the lounge or there are books in the library. I’ll tell you when Septimus is back or when I have thought things over.”
Tom had been so engrossed in the Professor’s story that he had momentarily forgotten that he had no home to go to. The thought kicked in with a sickening lurch. He realised he still had many questions.
“Redfeld,” he asked, “who is he and where is he from? What does he want from me? Won’t he attack here, once he finds out where I am? Who is that man in the grey suit; the Custodian and the Office, where is that?”
The old man raised his hands to stop the flow of questions. “Relax, Thomas. I know all about our Captain Redfeld. Don’t worry; neither he nor anyone else can just Walk into here for all it looks like an ordinary house. There are ways of blocking access to the Flow of Time and creating barriers to access. But you must rest and eat," Neoptolemas insisted. "Tomorrow, I will answer all your questions.”
That was that. The old man rang his bell and Mr Phelps entered and led Tom out to the dining room. He was given some soup, but his stomach was still twisted up and he found he could not eat. He stumbled out and was shown to a bedroom. A pair of pyjamas his size were folded neatly on the pillow. He had assumed he would not be able sleep, but despite that doze on the park bench earlier, all the excitement and anxiety had exhausted him. He collapsed on to the bed and slept for hours.
The next morning he sat down to a plate of bacon and eggs. Still maudlin and thinking about his family he thought he was not hungry, yet his body needed food and after one bite he realised he was ravenous and stuffed the rest down. While he was eating, he heard a door shut and, looking out of the open dining room door, he could just see down the corridor to the Professor’s room. Charlie Hawker, Edward Dyson and Mary Brown were walking towards him, having just been in with the Professor. They came and sat down, opposite him.
It was the first time Tom had seen Charlie since the rescue. He was glad to see that the young man now wore jeans and a shirt, rather than still being almost naked. He was half expecting Charlie to react violently to what had occurred, as Edward and Mary had done, but he sat calmly in his chair. Perhaps it was because he was younger than the others, Tom reflected; and, of course, he had not travelled so far in time as had the other two. The world would still seem strange, but not that strange.
“Thomas Oakley, is it?” Charlie asked. Tom nodded.
“I have just been speaking to the Professor. I think it was a similar conversation that Edward and Mary must have had with him.” The others nodded.
“Charlie has had the same thing happen to him as us,” Edward said. “We have all been wrenched away from our time against our will and deposited here in this strange world. At first the shock is unbelievable and almost unbearable.”
Tom gaped; he had risked his life to save them and all three were angry at him. “Well the thing is ...” he started, but Charlie stopped him.
“Let us finish, Thomas, please. I was going to say that the shock is indeed horrible. But then we listened to the Professor. He explained who and what we all are ...Walkers is it? More than that, he explained that it was that part of us that made us show ourselves to you so you could feel us dying, all these years later. You could have ignored it, you know. You told the Professor you wanted rid of these strange abilities you had. You could have left us dead and gone on with your life, but you did not,” Charlie continued. “You came and rescued us at great personal danger. Not for thought of gain or reward and probably thinking it would be the end of the matter, is that not so?”
Relieved that he had mistaken their anger, Tom, feeling faintly embarrassed, just shrugged and nodded.
“So, whatever the shock we are going through, we all agree we owe you our gratitude. On balance we feel it is better to be alive now than to have died back then. Maybe it is also better to have a chance to understand who – or what – we are.”
“And you don’t mind that we brought you away from your world and your time?”
Charlie shook his head. “No, at least I don’t. I can’t speak for the others. I said it was a shock and it is, but you see I had no one in my time to worry about. I had no family left alive. My world was going mad trying to kill itself and we were losing the war. Know what I thought when I realised that I would die on that stinking boat? I thought that soon everyone would be dead and we would lose the war. I had a pretty carefree attitude to my own life because I did not think it would last long anyway. I had decided just to have fun and a few adventures along the way.”
He suddenly laughed. “It’s probably why I jumped into the sea practically naked and swam across to the U–boat. Seemed like a good idea at the time,” he went on. “My only regret was not knowing for certain who was going to win. Well ... now I know. The war is over; the world is safe and an amazing place to be. I don’t want to go back and I want to thank you and the rest for rescuing me. But what I also want is some bacon and eggs!” With th
at he got up and helped himself to a plate of food.
Edward glared at Charlie and then said with a certain emphasis, “We came to see how Tom was, not to have breakfast!” In response, Charlie just winked at him.
“Tom,” Edward said, “the Professor gave us each a choice; three options as it were. If we really objected to being here we could go back. Return to a few moments after we left and take our chances.
“But if you did go back to Isandlwana or Mary to the bakery and Charlie to the U–boat,” Tom said, “then ...”
“Yes. It would be certain death for all of us, but the Professor said there was no other way. If we lived on in our time the effects on the future would be unpredictable. So, the other choice is to stay here and try to become normal people. He would find us a place in the world and jobs and we would live out our lives in this time.”
“Or? You said three options.”
“Or we join the Institute and use our talents to protect the world and serve the aims of the Professor. He has given us some time to think it over.”
Tom looked at Mary. Last time he had seen her she had been almost delirious and convinced they were all demons. “How ... er ... how do you feel, Mary?” he asked tentatively. He braced himself for a tirade about them all going to Hell.
“Quite well, Master Thomas,” she said shyly, “I beg your forgiveness Master in that I called you a devil and demon.”
“Er, thanks, no problem. You were confused. But I meant what do you feel about the choice you have?”
“Well, like Charlie, I was bewildered by this place, ‘tis true. But when Professor Neoptolemas explained to me what I am ... what we all are, it was as if a veil dropped from mine eyes. It was clear as day that he spoke the truth. All my life I thought myself a witch for that which I could do, and believed I would hang one day and burn in Hell. When the fire came and then I found myself here, I imagined that I was in Hell and had been done to death. For the Bible it sayeth that ‘you shall not suffer a witch to live’.”
“Mary, you are not in Hell.”
The girl nodded her head. “I know that to be true, Master Thomas, and I know I am not a witch, nor are you demons. So, if I am still on earth it must be for a reason. I believe the Lord has given me the powers of angels and granted the same to thee. There is a purpose for all that has happened. I was meant to help you as were these kind sirs. The Lord may have brought me to a strange place out of my time, but it matters not. I will serve Him wherever I can. For the Lord’s purpose will be done!”
Tom blinked. He was not sure if Mary was any better off. Beforehand she was certain they were demons. Now she believed that they were all part of some divine plan.
“Mary, you need to know God did not send me. I had these dreams of the three of you dying and – well I had to help. It is true that we all have talents and powers, but I don’t want you thinking God sent me to bring you all here to serve His plan, even if I knew what it was. The truth is the Professor wanted me to save you so you could help him protect the World. As for me, I just wanted to save you and then go back to my normal life ... my normal life,” he repeated in a whisper as thoughts of his family came to him. He had no normal life to go back to. Not anymore.
Mary patted him gently on the arm. “Don’t alarm yourself, Master. I do not think these things because you have tricked me into believing them. I see the truth in what has happened even if you do not. That the Lord chose you to do His work might seem strange to you, but I am sure of it.”
Tom shook his head and glanced at Edward. The Victorian officer wore a modern suit and now looked quite at ease with his surroundings and all that had transpired. As if reading a question in Tom’s mind, Edward spoke now.
“As for me, I’m a rational man, born of an age when reason and science were driving back the superstitions of old times. I accept what has happened and seek to understand it. While that is going on, I am tempted to work for the Professor and help him in his aims to use these talents we have to protect our world and our time.”
“Our world; our time? What about all that you said about your time being over and that you should be dead? I thought you in particular might take the Professor’s first choice.”
“It’s my world and my time now, Tom. Isandlwana was part of my life, but I realise that it is a bit foolish to wish to have died just to make my conscience better because I lived when all my friends and fellow soldiers died. I still feel duty and loyalty ... I have not changed. I just need to find the right cause to vow that duty to.”
Tom now turned to the third figure at the table. Charlie was still munching on a sausage. “What about you, Charlie. What do you want to do?”
“I have not got that far. My plan till now was to have some fun,” he said in a muffled voice while piling in some black pudding, “but I reckon I will take a look at the world, hang about a bit and see what happens.”
Something about the image of Charlie eating his breakfast with such relish reminded Tom of his dad, who had loved a ‘full English’. The memory stirred his emotions yet again and he felt his eyes moisten.
Mary reached out and put her hand on Tom’s, which startled him, but then it felt comforting and he sighed.
“Thou feelest the loss most deeply: thy parents, thy sister. Dost thou not, Master Thomas?”
Charlie looked up, a sausage still held in the prongs of a fork.
Tom felt a gnawing in his middle and suddenly did not feel like any more food. He nodded. “Yes – I do. I still can’t believe they are gone! I was never born. But I am here. It doesn’t make sense.”
Suddenly he felt angry and needed to be alone. “None of this makes sense. What am I doing eating breakfast? What am I do talking to you lot? I should be somewhere else trying to sort this mess out!”
Pushing back his chair, Tom leapt abruptly to his feet and ran out of the room, his face burning, red with anger and frustration.
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