by R L Wagner
I opened Uncle Scott’s journal and read the camera operation instructions.
“Sis, when do we leave?” Benny said, tossing the tooth up and down like a baseball.
“It’s not that simple, Benny. If everything down there is really what we think it is, then Uncle Scott must have made hundreds of trips from here to there and back again; and now he is lost. We don’t even know where, or even know when.”
‘When’ seemed to get Benny’s attention. Uncle Scott may be in San Francisco, New York, Clayton or Calcutta; he could actually be in any of those places, but when?
“So,” Benny said slowly, “Uncle Scott could be alive, living in a time of five years ago, or fifty two years ago, or even two hundred and whatever years ago,” Benny said, becoming more and more aware of the complexity of our situation.
I kept reading the journal. “The red key,” Uncle Scott wrote, “travels to the point of origin.” I didn’t understand.
“Are we going to try to find Uncle Scott?” Benny asked quietly.
I could hear his frustration. He was ready to put up a fight.
“Just give me a minute. Okay, Benny?” I said while rereading the camera instructions. I knew Benny was staring right at me.
It sounded simple enough:
*To travel, one camera key must be set to Off and the other set to There.
*Simply hold an artifact, photograph it, and you’re THERE.
*To travel to the artifact’s point of origin, set the red key to There.
*To travel to the artifact’s prior location, set the green key to There. It seemed simple. Maybe that was Uncle Scott’s problem. He had done it so many times that it had become routine, and he just wasn’t as careful this one time. Something went wrong and took him by surprise. Maybe something bad almost happened once or twice before, so he felt he needed to make arrangements and write his “insurance letter.”
I finished reading and looked up seeing both Benny and Rammie’s eyes locked on me. I gave Benny a long look back. I remembered seeing this expression on his face before. He was raring to go, but I was holding him back. Uncle Scott meant a lot to him.
We lost Dad when I turned eight and Benny was almost five. Uncle Scott stayed with us for about a week. I remember he was trying to hold us both when Mom took that picture of us all laughing. The costume shop was heavy on Mom’s wish list. She had even picked out the location. Uncle Scott helped her make it happen. He helped with the business papers, startup money, and got her a ton of authentic looking costumes from somewhere. Now I guess I know where. The shop helped get us on our feet and made Mom boss of her own job, one that made a real living. What Uncle Scott did was so important. I thought a lot about the night before she opened the shop. We were hanging up costumes, and I asked Mom if I could help her with something important. Mom got this look on her face.
“Yes, Sally. Help me with you and Ben for the most important job: keeping both of you safe.” I remember Mom saying that. Right now, Benny’s face looked like Mom’s when she had said that.
“Uncle Scott is our family, Sis.” Benny stopped there, waiting for me.
I kept hearing Mom talking in my head. “Kids, I’m not sure this move is what we’re going to do, but I feel deeply about it. I think it’s right to give ourselves this summer as a trial run to help us make the decision. Who knows what we’ll find in Clayton?” Mom said.
Rammie looked at me, opened his mouth to speak, but only a quiet squeak came out. It was so tiny, almost inaudible. Benny kept watching me. Clearly it was my turn to say something.
“Benny, Rammie. We are absolutely going to try and find Uncle Scott!” Excitement grew on our faces and finally exploded into uncontainable smiles. It wasn’t easy keeping quiet.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Benny slugged his fist in the air. “What are we going to do? Should I wake up Mom?” He was moving at the speed of light toward the door.
“Hold up, Benny. Let her sleep. First let’s give this baby a trial run,” I said, standing up showing him the camera.
“Okay! Tonight! Right now!” he insisted.
“Okay, okay. First we need to prepare. Go get your backpack, a notebook, a watch, some water, and something to eat. Put on your black jeans and a gray sweatshirt. Wear your black sneakers, your pea coat, and your gray scarf.” I could hear a bit of uncertainty in my voice, but Benny sprung into action. I thought about the clothes in the downstairs office, but I had no idea where or when we would land. I threw on similar clothes and grabbed my gray camping coat. I figured these clothes were warm, and probably would stick out the least wherever we landed.
I checked on Mom. Benny came up from the kitchen and met me in her bedroom. She was quietly snoring.
“Mom’s totally beat!” I whispered through a small laugh.
“She’s kind of cute snoring there,” Benny whispered back, smiling. I gave him a goofy glance. “Well she is. Just saying.” Benny ran back to his room to get dressed. I returned to read more of Uncle Scott’s journal. I slipped it out from underneath Rammie who was lying on top of it purring.
“Give it up, old timer,” I told Rammie. One loud meow brought in Benny with his shoes and socks in hand. “Listen to this Benny.”
How we perceive time is relative to our experience of it – living in it, memories of it, and coming back from the past into the now.
Any time we live in the present, we perceive that as real time. We experience an hour as an hour, one day as one day.
We perceive time differently from a distance: We look back at yesterday, taking our time remembering it, as every detail is fresh in our memories.
We look at a past month in a shorter amount of time, remembering fewer details, fewer moments.
We look at ten years ago quickly, not remembering much more than the highlights.
We look back at a hundred years in no time at all, remembering next to nothing.
“So, why is this important?” Benny asked. “Here, Uncle Scott says it.” I kept reading. The important application to this is knowing what time has passed when coming back home into the now. This is tricky. Timing is everything. Here is a simplified rule of thumb based on my experience:
For every ten years traveled back in time, one day in that past equals five minutes in the present.
For example:
Traveling back ten years – one day there= 5 minutes of time passed here. Traveling back fifty years – one day there = 25 minutes of time passed here. Traveling back 100 years – one day there= 50 minutes of time passed here.
“Oh, I think I get it. If Sally travels back 100 years and stays 12 hours, then travels back home, how many minutes have passed here, when Sally returns home?” Benny said, trying to sound like a math teacher.
I raised my hand.
“If the lovely, divine, architect Sally chooses to come back after 12 hours of shopping
in the past, 100 years ago, 25 minutes will have passed in the here and now, when she returns with her cool stuff,” I said.
“Correct -amundo.” Benny smiled. “Does the journal say anything about the green light?” Benny asked.
“Let me see. Maybe this is it: ‘Home Camera Calendar Timer’,” I said and kept reading.
On the home camera, I have installed a time calendar. A clock calendar will start if the two cameras are separated for seven days. The time clock will record the time passed from the date of travel. After seven days of separation, the camera’s ‘Green There Key’ will additionally project the stone’s green light through the uncovered lens. I’m not sure why, but it does, and it’s not dangerous.
Home camera will project the green stone’s light, for a four-minute blast of light, which represents every year that the traveler has been gone. A shorter light projection of 5 - 20 seconds represents a week to a month.
The actual calendar days and hours are recorded on the home camera’s time clock. “Benny, do you remember how long the green light lasted?” To me it felt like an eternity because of h
ow frightened we were.
“The light lasted bout nine minutes from when we first saw the green light and downstairs for about five seconds.” Benny sounded clear on it. “But the cameras haven’t really been separated.”
“Maybe the home camera doesn’t know that because the green key on the travel camera has been set to There,” I guessed and Benny seemed to agree.
“Okay.” I wrote Mom a note and l eft it on my bed, just in case. “We can check the home camera’s clock to see how long Uncle Scott has been gone. You ready?” I asked.
“Ready.” Benny stood after tying his shoes.
I grabbed the satchel and the tooth, and we headed down to Uncle Scott’s desk to retrieve the rest. Rammie found his meow and trotted after us.
“Now, will it be upstairs or downstairs for the cat?” I asked.
“If we leave him upstairs, he’ll wake Mom for sure,” Benny said.
“Okay, let’s leave the bookcase open slightly. This is a trial run remember, we shouldn’t be gone long at all. Come on,” I said.
We walked down the stairs. I still found them creepy. I had butterflies in my stomach. I wasn’t scared like before; it was more like the feeling on the first day of school. I was excited about the adventure, but I didn’t feel completely comfortable with this.
“You okay Ben?” I asked.
“Yeah, you know, excited and …” he paused for a moment before he told me
something I’ll never forget. “Sometimes I like it when you call me Ben,” he said.
I smiled and clutched his shoulders as we walked down the stairs. “Okay, Ben. Let’s do this.” We turned right at the last step of the stairs and headed straight for the old tripod that held the home camera.
“The clock measured two long flashes, three short flashes, and two super short flashes. That recorded 27 months and 2 weeks.” I said it out loud for both of us to think about it.
“That means there’s been another flash since we’ve been here.” Benny said confidently.
“How did you figure that out so fast, Benny?” I asked.
“It’s not a video game, Sis. We saw a short flash. Now there’s another week recorded on the clock. Let’s go.” Benny sounded confident.
“Really, we lose a week that fast? Doesn’t that bother you a little?” I said, wanting to get him to think about the possible danger of it all.
“But we get it right back when we return. I just want to help Uncle Scott get back, Sally,” Benny said anxiously.
“Ok, then help me look through the satchel and the backpack. We’ve got the teeth, the camera, the journal, a change of clothes, water, and food, correct?” I asked.
Benny put his backpack on the Egyptian side table and started looking. Rammie jumped on the table too. “See! I’m telling you! Rammie knocked over the table, probably when Uncle Scott was about to take the picture and then Uncle Scott took it by accident,” Benny
explained.
I sorted through the satchel.
“You got the gun, Sis? Uncle Scott packed it!” Benny asked.
“Not the gun.” I walked over and put the revolver and the bullets on the desk. “This is just a trial run. I guess I have everything else. You ready?” I asked nervously, like we were about to blast off to Mars. Benny walked over to the X on the floor in front of the camera. He held up the bigger of the two teeth as a traveling relic.
“Ready, let’s do it!” Benny said.
I slung the satchel over my shoulder and walked over to the camera, making sure the green key was still set to There and the red key was set to Off. I took the shutter release cable in my hand. Rammie ran over to join us.
“No! Get away, Rammie!” I dropped the trigger and clapped my hands together loudly. Rammie ran back and jumped on top of Uncle Scott’s desk letting out one big, irritated meow.
“See what I mean?” Benny joked. He held up the dinosaur tooth again in front of his chest. “Stay, Rammie!” Benny ordered, and Rammie sat down. “Do you think this will hurt?” Benny sounded scared now.
“No, no. It’s not going to hurt. Uncle Scott would have said something if it would hurt us. And you’re holding up the dinosaur tooth because…?
“Yeah, it’s the most interesting thing in the satchel,” Benny said.
“And it’s consistent with the dinosaur books that we saw open on the table upstairs. Okay, on three,” I said. We both counted aloud, holding hands, and leaning our shoulders together.
“One, two, three . . .”
Benny held up the tooth, I pressed the shutter release, and surprisingly, I thought to myself, am I actually taking a picture too? A thundering clapping noise started us traveling. A million stars raced in, replacing our view of the fading office and the image of Rammie
meowing and reaching out his paw for us. The sign vanished, but I whispered the words to myself, “Expect the Unexpected.”
A tiny, green glowing dot of light appeared. It looked really far away. It grew brighter and brighter, larger and larger, racing towards us, and then it covered us completely. We were traveling silently for several seconds, just floating in green space and white stars.
I felt . . . healthy. My body felt like I had just taken a long, refreshing nap. It was the last feeling that I expected to have during this risky travel experience. I tightened my grip around Benny’s waist. A sudden bright flash exploded over us. The stars and the green light winked out. A dark, warm moment came and passed.
“Seven seconds,” I heard Benny say.
I squeezed Benny’s hand tighter, not wanting to lose him somewhere in time, or worse. “Maybe this was not such a good idea,” I said. A sudden unexpected explosion slammed into our ears. We landed “THERE”!
Clearly I never expected this.
6 THERE!
“Oh, WOW!” Benny and I said it together. Our seven seconds of calm floating vanished abruptly and erupted into a powerful explosion of sounds, smells, light and motion that slammed into our senses.
Suddenly everything everywhere was very, very, different.
The cool dampness of the night slapped against our cheeks. A loud rhythmic clack, clack, clack and the lively clamor of a bustling crowd rushed into our ears. The air smelled of smoke, horses, and perfume. Benny and I looked at our feet. We stood on an immense, cold, granite stairway leading above to massive columns festooned with scarlet and gold banners. I beamed, recognizing the Palladian architecture. Total surprise and dropped mouths stretched across our faces. We turned around to the striking view of the street below us. Here, existed a vibrant and active 19th century downtown boulevard bursting with life, and everyone spoke with old British accents. Tall, metal gas lamps glowed, illuminating the lines of horse-drawn black carriages. Busy coachmen arrived and departed to taxi their eager
passengers. Curbside, the uniformed valets opened shiny, wooden and glass cab doors for elegant couples dressed in fine suits and gowns, cloaks and capes, and top hats and feathered headdresses. Venders hawked scarves, books, and jewelry. The aroma of roasting chess nuts reminded me of holidays in San Francisco at Union Square.
Our gaze of this new world abruptly ended with Benny falling backwards, knocked down by a couple that was passing us on the busy path.
“Dear, are you alright?” The man reached for the woman dressed in green velvet and wearing large stone jewels. She had run right smack into Benny, stumbled, and they had both fallen onto the steps.
I scrambled to help Benny and accidently smacked him in the face with Uncle Scott’s satchel that hung off my shoulder.
“You okay?” I asked Benny, helping him up.
“I’m fine.” Both Benny and the woman said in unison, except she sounded very mad and irritated.
“Sorry, lad. I didn’t see you there,” the gentleman said.
“It’s like he came out of nowhere,” the woman hissed. “Young rabble, they’re
everywhere these days.” Without an apology, they moved on. “And did you see how they were dressed? She’s wearing p
ants, no less!” we heard her say as they climbed the stairs.
“So, are you ok?” I asked Benny again.
“Yeah fine. Gee, the camera totally worked didn’t it! I mean we’re here!” Benny sounded shocked and excited. “So, where are we Sis?” he asked.
I looked around slowly. It had finally hit me: we had gone back into the past at least 100 maybe 150 years, and we were in England! What a secret. This camera is amazing!
“Everyone here is alive and real. Maybe Uncle Scott is alive and here too!” I said.
“Yeah, it worked. It’s incredible! Come on! Let’s walk around! We didn’t come here to just stand and stare!” Benny said. His excitement was contagious.
I gripped the satchel strap, patted the bag, and grabbed Benny. Hand in hand, we climbed to the top of the stairs. Several couples were entering through large, ornate, brass doors, presenting some sort of invitation to the door attendants. The men received gold lapel ribbons as they went in. Above the doors carved in white stone read “The Museum of Natural History, Trafalgar Annex.”
“We’re in London,” I said aloud.
“Huh, so the teeth came from here! I could think of a lot worse places we could have ended up.” Benny sounded excited and relieved.
“Yeah, maybe so or somewhere close to here. Let’s find out. Come on,” I said. The door on the left was the least busy. The attendant was probably 19 years old. He was tall, slender, dressed like a bellhop, and had brownish-red hair parted down the middle. It looked like a good door to choose.
“Hello. My brother and I are here to see the curator. We have something for the
museum,” I said. Our attendant’s expression turned smug.
“Fancy that. On the night of the annual gala fundraiser, with a rather fine buffet included, you came to see Dr. O’Malley b ecause you ‘ave something for the museum.’ Come back in the morning, missy, after you two ‘ave gone to a proper ‘aberdashery!” h e said rudely.
“What’s a ‘aberdashery’?” Benny asked.
“Curious.” The attendant leered at us. “Now off with you both. The couple behind you has been graciously waiting,” the brash attendant insisted, waving us off.