He asked her if anything was wrong, which surprised her again, but she said no. He offered to help with some last minute cleaning, but she declined, visibly becoming more nervous. Instead of explaining anything, which he thought (knew) would make things worse, he decided to invite Mrs. Nolla and her husband to a non-existent faculty dinner on Saturday. She thanked him, and he left, wondering how quickly he could throw together a faculty dinner on Saturday if they decided to RSVP.
The dinner never happened, because while Justin sat in his third period Physics course, Mr. Nolla entered his wife's class and shot her dead in front of her twenty-six students. When he shot himself a few moments later, he had the decency to do it outside.
Justin tried to live with the guilt, but it kept growing inside him like a child, or like cancer. He sought ought a psychologist, who kept harranging that it wasn't his fault, a fact Justin knew in his head. But his heart didn't agree, and soon the pain inside him was so bad he had trouble keeping his food down. He kept noticing how his colleagues would look at him and whisper… or how their conversations would stop when he entered the room. Finally, he resigned, sold everything, and moved to Arizona. Sometimes he would call his sister; usually, he talked to his niece, Julia.
The friends he left behind had heard that he had visited Mrs. Nolla the morning of the shooting. A few even hinted that Justin had believed that something would happen, but not what or when. Mr. Nolla hadn't left a note - perhaps there had been an affair? But despite varying theories, the general consensus was that Justin had left due to his guilt — unable to save Mrs. Nolla's life.
They were wrong. Somehow, the life of Mrs. Nolla had seemed, and still seemed, out of his hands. Not his responsibility that morning. Instead, he had failed those twenty-six small, shattered lives. That was what had haunted him and turned his insides out. And as he shut himself away, he told himself that he was dealing with the problem head on.
For years, he had been left alone. The few who had tried to invade his privacy found out quickly that entrance into his life was by invitation only. Trespassers were sometimes shot at, but never actually shot — until today. If you can call a body that disappears "shot".
Justin lightly turned over the clipboard with his foot. He picked it up and raised it to eye level to be sure his eyes weren't fooling him — they weren't. Not a drop of blood anywhere.
He turned on a light and tried to make out what he could (given that the pages were no longer in order and had a bullet hole running through them). He found a white page, marked 3G, that read: Complaints, Problems, Irregularities:
1) I don't know who's been photocopying form 3G lately, but they have been doing so on white paper. Keep in mind that the color code system is there for your benefit, and all forms marked 'G' are meant for goldenrod. You'll find it tucked away under the photocopier (under the coral).
2) After taking notes on Justin and his recent activities, call Julia and leave a message. Tell her that Justin is ill and hospitalized but that all is well. Maybe a kidney infection (?).
Justin reread the note, stunned. Some kind of conspiracy. A big one, maybe. He had been right about the danger (but then, he had known that, although it didn't hurt his faith in his own sanity to get confirmation). His hand came to rest on some gray sheets that contained a series of mathematical formulas. He gave them the once over and almost put them down before he realized what they were. As quickly as he could, he gathered all six gray papers together, put them in order, and read slowly them through. When he was finished, he was so surprised that when he stopped to scratch his scalp he — literally — disappeared.
17. In Charge"Everyone rises to the level of their incompetence."— Traditional
"And he shot me!" the Lab Coat Man shouted (again), flinging himself into a swivel office chair. He put his hands to his forehead and massaged the red spot right between and just above his eyes that would eventually scar, forever to mark the spot where the bullet struck an instant before he had vanished and reappeared back in the basement.
"Right between the eyes!" he bleated.
"No, right between and just above," Neoldner corrected. "You've gone over this fifty times now…"
"Shut up!" the Lab Coat Man bellowed. "He shot me! If he had fired just a millisecond sooner…"
"You'd be dead," Neoldner noted. "So what are you going to do aboutForrester?"
Prof. Sigger, huddled quietly in the corner, added: "Well, I for one am very glad that you escaped with only —"
"Shut up, both of you! I have to think!"
There was yet another crisis. Not only had he been shot (almost), two unauthorized persons had possession of clipboards. Of the two, Nelson was the most likely to make sense of them, but there was no reason to be relaxed about the other. The problem was, no one had a spare. How was he supposed to look up the relevant procedure if he had lost his (damn) clipboard?!
Well, he was in charge now, at least until the Director showed up. Not Forrester, not the clipboard. And he needed some help. There was only one choice he could make. He walked out of the office and to the cell. Kurt was scratching his arm in the garish light cast from the lone bulb.
"I'm afraid we're running out of time. You know what will happen if we cannot conclude matters by a satisfactory hour."
Kurt continued to scratch.
"Does your arm bother you?"
"No."
It wasn't the answer that shocked the Lab Coat Man, but the fact that he had replied at all. "Good! I mean… too bad! Good that you answered one my questions, but too bad that — wait, what made you finally answer one of my questions?"
Kurt pondered this for a moment. "I don't know. I just got bored."
The Lab Coat Man reached for his pen in order to mark an 'X' on his clipboard, stopped, and sighed.
18. One Too Many"A story to me means a plot where there is some surprise…. Becausethat is how life is — full of surprises."— Isaac Bashevis Singer
Julia never lost that feeling of uneasiness, so she and Rhonda had left before the screening of "Bride". As Rhonda drove them past the usual road signs and over predictable bumps, Julia became aware of the magnitude of what had happened. She had lost her job and gotten a new one all in one night; she had felt something that she had always assumed was a figment of her uncle's imagination — possibly the first symptom of a mental illness; she had sat through one of the worst films she had ever witnessed without finding an excuse to leave. Everything that she had ever assumed about this dreary town, small in both size and its collective capacity to imagine, about her life, and just about everything else now seemed strange and unfamiliar. On top of this, Rhonda, after shifting into third gear, was running a hand up her thigh.
"Uh, I'm, uh… I'm straight," said Julia.
Rhonda muttered something and shifted into fourth, charging through the intersection of Central and Oak just as the light changed to red.
When Julia finally unlocked her apartment door, she found Cecil and two messages on the machine waiting for her. Cecil purred and rubbed her shins with his head. She picked him up and pressed play on her answering machine.
Message number one: "Hello, this is Dr. Bernstein calling for JuliaNelson. Your uncle Justin became dehydrated today and will be at St.Joseph's for a while. We'll call you as further developments ariseat…"
Uncle Justin in the hospital! I'll have to call the Manager and let him know she needed tomorrow off, she thought. Would he buy that? Oh great, I'm going to lose two jobs in two days!
Before she could rewind, message number two began: "Hon, this is Justin!" Julia gasped and dropped Cecil, who landed perfectly and returned to rubbing her shins. "Don't believe any messages you get about me unless they're from me! I shot a fella who got into my house… well, sort of shot him. I did and I didn't. He was there one minute and then Poof! Anyway, there's no body here, so there's no need to call the cops, but he left behind a clipboard that said he was going to call you and leave a message about me! I don't know what the hell this is all about, but it's not right! Say hello to that cat for me." The message ended, and Cecil, not contented with the action he was getting at foot level, jumped up to the counter just as Julia began dialing her uncle to find out just what the hell was going on.
19. The Meeting"He that communicates his secret to another makes himself that other'sslave."— Baltasar Gracian
Supervising Manager Denny was stocking shelves when the Lab Coat Man approached him.
"Denny?"
"How'd you get in here?"
"Back door."
Denny stopped shelving Snack Ramen (6 for a $1) for a moment and looked at his fellow conspirator. "The back door? We unlock one of the most important secrets of space and time, and you walk in through my back door?"
"We, uh… lost a clipboard."
Denny stared for a moment before throwing the empty packing box to the floor. "Oh, Lord. Who has it?"
"Remember Tom? He clocked Forrester at Popeye's. Took his clipboard.Which makes a total of two that are missing…"
"Two? What was Forrester doing with two?!"
"Oh, he only had one. I, uh, almost got shot by Mr. Nelson and, uh… well, I dropped mine."
"And you became a Hindu, I see?"
"What?" the Lab Coat Man asked, touching his forehead. "That was the bullet! Do you realize—?"
"Just kidding…"
"Kidding! I'm almost killed in the line of duty, and all anyone can think to do is make fun of me because at the last second I didn't die! Am I so dispensable that —"
"All right, calm down. We need to have a meeting about this."
"Yes, I informed everyone. They'll meet us."
"Good. We also need to discuss another complication."
"What's that?"
"Not what — who. Don't worry, I've fired her. Just a precaution."
The Lab Coat Man nodded vaguely and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Well if you're just going to stand there," Denny said, "how about giving me a hand with this mouthwash?"
The Lab Coat Man frowned, but began to arrange the bottles of mouthwash (3 for $2) on the opposite shelf. "If I had known I was going to be shelving, I would have brought the new kid… Kurt. Why don't you just… move them, you know? Since we've unlocked one of the most important secrets of space and time, why not just—?"
"Not until after the final phase, I keep telling you! We don't know who's watching! Like that Nelson. What do we know about him?"
"Zeke knows that. Brings him his mail."
"Zeke?" Denny asked.
"What?" Zeke replied, filling his basket with hemorrhoid cream (2 for $3) fifteen feet up the aisle.
"You askin' about Justin Nelson, Jr.? Oh, he's just nuts. Thought he saw a UFO once, but it was a weather balloon." The trio converged in the middle of aisle seven. "He asks strange questions, that's about all."
"He almost shot me!" the Lab Coat Man exclaimed.
"Would you leave that alone for a minute?" Denny asked. "We'll have to get him out of the way."
"And whoever has Forrester," Zeke added.
"Something happened to Forrester?!" exclaimed a black woman at the end of the aisle, who had been comparing prices of toilet paper (2 for $5). "Who was careless enough to let two of us be compromised?!" she demanded.
"Keep your voice down, Shenika," Denny replied. "Forrester was in charge of the daily operations, so he's only got himself to blame."
"And who lost the other one?" Shenika demanded. All turned to the LabCoat Man.
"I'm afraid I was responsible for the other mishap," he admitted, grudgingly.
"Yeah, right before you became a Hindu," Shenika said, noticeably not suppressing a smirk.
"Well, you can't be too hard on the old LCM, here," said Zeke, "'cause Justin has always had a quick temper. And since he's paranoid, he's more likely to notice something going on. In fact, I think he thinks there was something going on before he got hold of the clipboard."
"Like what?" Denny asked.
"I dunno, I was never able to get him to tell me."
"He's a fricking nut," said a police officer, who was passing through the store on his rounds. Aisle seven was filling up. "He reads books on UFO's, Bigfoot, crop circles, you name it! And he listens to Art Bell at lot…"
"But no one knows specifically what he knows?" Denny asked.
"Nobody," said the policeman. "He's never opened up to my people down at that hospital."
"And Julia is just like him," Shenika muttered.
"Rubbed off I guess," said Zeke.
"Inevitable," the Lab Coat Man added.
"Inevitable how?" Shenika demanded.
"Well, I just thought… inevitable," he mumbled, straightening another row of mouthwash.
An old lady turned the corner with a shopping cart. "Are all of you going to block the aisle?" she asked. The Lab Coat Man, Denny, Zeke, Shenika, and the police officer turned. At the sight of her, their backs stiffened and their heels ever so slightly clicked together.
"Don't worry about Julia. There's plenty of other work for you to be doing," she said. "All right! Meeting's over!"
The crowd, except for Denny, quickly dispersed.
"Now, young man," she asked, "I found my Depends, but could you tell me where I might find the Metamucil?"
20. Love in Bloom"Give me golf clubs, fresh air and a beautiful partner, and you cankeep the clubs and the fresh air."— Jack Benny
When Alona began to regain consciousness, she thought she saw Tom drag the body of what looked like a mad scientist inside the trailer home.
"I'm not feeling too well," she muttered.
"How's that, dear?" Betty asked, stroking her patient's head.
"I'm hallucinating about Tom dragging the body of a mad scientist — "
"You're not hallucinating. He just did," she replied. "Well, he might not be mad, but I wouldn't trust anyone with that mustache!"
"Oh."
For some reason, this did not disturb her. During her blackout, she had dreamed of a subtle shift in the circumstances that kept her universe in equilibrium. She was too disorientated to judge whether this was a dream or not, but at least she no longer felt like crying. In the kitchen, Ritchie, Tom's father, had just come home from work and was searching for a cold Pabst to drink in front of the news. He watched his son drag the man's body into the center of the room, drop his legs, and turn toward Alona.
"Who the hell's that?!" he cried.
But Tom wasn't listening. He was looking deeply at Alona, who was looking back. Alona felt her heart flutter; instantly, she knew. The trailer seemed to glow in a light she had never believed existed. Tom kept her gaze as he stepped over the body, stood before her, and took her outstretched hand in his.
"I did this for you," Tom said simply.
"I know," Alona said, and she did.
"Anyone care to tell me what this has to do with Kurt and that professor?" Ritchie asked, cracking open a bottle and taking a long-deserved drink.
Tom and Alona, their gazes locked, now holding both hands, seemed to glow somehow in the lower-middle class splendor of the trailer home. Betty, watching the exchange with incredulous eyes, finally sighed and her own hands slipped together over her heart. Ritchie, noting his wife's reaction, allowed himself an ironic smile.
"Oh, for crying out loud," he muttered. "Tom!"
Tom and Alona jumped and turned toward the voice, their hands dropping by their sides.
"Why did you just drag an unconscious scientist into my home?"
Tom turned toward the body. "Oh, him!" Tucked in the front of the man's trousers was a clipboard. Tom extracted it and handed it to his dad. Both parents read the top sheet, their faces turning pale.
"Does this mean what I think it means? Richie?"
He nodded slowly.
"This settles it. They were kidnapped," Ritchie pronounced authoritatively. Tom and Alona did not hear. Their eyes and hands had found each other's once again. Tom attempted to say something meaningful and clever but only managed a half-swallowed: "I love you."
"I love you," replied Alona, and the room seemed to begin to slowly revolve around a newly formed sun. Betty peeked at them over the clipboard, but Richie raised it again.
"Aww…" she cooed.
"Now, hon'," he admonished gently.
21. How the World Works "Courage is the capacity to confront what can be imagined." — Leo Rosten
Julia felt a scream building. Cecil wouldn't stop rubbing her legs, Uncle Justin wasn't answering the phone. He shot somebody, but there was no one there to have been shot. Rhonda, having flirted with all of the men in Tranquil, had started flirting with her. Seeing things that weren't there, or if they were there, things she didn't want to know anything about. Losing jobs, getting jobs. Being caught up in a world that she could barely make sense of, running by so quickly by that there was no chance to catch up. Concerns of that general nature were making it tempting to rip the phone from the wall and throw it through the sliding glass door.
She settled for slamming the receiver down. Cecil jumped and skittered away. Julia, for once, was going to make this a three cigarette day. And smoke indoors. She grabbed her purse and scrounged inside for the pack. Her old one was gone, but a new one, wrapped in a red ribbon, was in its place. Had to be from Rhonda.
"Oh great," Julia muttered. Do I take it or not? It's not exactly red roses or from someone I'd want roses from, so if I take them, am I sending a signal I don't want to send, or… The debate could have lasted longer — on a better day, it would have, but this wasn't one of those days. She ripped open the pack, jammed a cigarette between her lips, and flicked her lighter.
As the flame touched the end of her cigarette, a hand smacked it from her mouth, sending it flying over Cecil's head and onto the couch. The cigarette suddenly burst into a small fireball, sending a cushion up with it. As Cecil sped off for the safety of the bedroom, Julia grabbed her least favorite throw pillow and beat it against the flames. Whoever had just appeared next to her tossed a flower vase full of water (and one white rose) onto the cushion. With a sizzle, the fire died, leaving a burn mark and a pathetic flower on the center of Julia's couch.
"Well, this is the end of a perfect day!" she yelled, turning to whoever it was who had just appeared.
"I told you smoking wasn't good for you," Uncle Justin said, scratching his armpit with a clipboard. Julia figured that the worst thing she could do right now would be to have a temper tantrum, but decided to throw one anyway.
"What — is — going — on?!" she yelled.
Justin shook his head and motioned with his hand to calm down.
"Look, this is going to take some explaining. Let's sit down and — no, I guess we can't sit there now, can we?"
"I can hear it standing up! First, you're in the hospital; then, you're not. You shot somebody, but you didn't, and then you break into my apartment just as — "
"I didn't break in," he interrupted. "I just that second got here."
"Without opening the door?"
"Without opening the door."
Julia took a long look at her Uncle's face. He wasn't drunk, and he wasn't lying.
"OK, maybe I do need to sit down," she said, sitting on the carpet and pulling her knees to her face. Justin grunted as he managed to get his body to sit (and not fall) beside her. They waited in silence for a minute.
"So what's going on?" Julia asked.
"Something to do with this clipboard," Justin said, handing it to her."Flip to the front."
Julia read through the directions concerning Uncle Justin and the outline of how Julia could be removed if necessary. Someone would slip her some knock-out cigarettes.
"Knock-out cigarettes?" she asked incredulously.
"Well, from what I've seen, this isn't the most intelligent conspiracy in the world."
"You'd at least think they'd check to see if their knock-out medicine was flammable."
"Probably alcohol based."
"Why not just slip me a mickey, then?"
"How much do you drink?"
"Hardly at all. Occasionally when I'm with — "
"What?"
"Rhonda must be in on this."
"Are you still hanging out with her? She's bad news. Her family ownedTranquil's only brothel about eighty years ago, and —"
"No ancient history lessons, please," Julia said.
"Well it wasn't ancient to my grandfather, who -!"
"All right, pax, pax! Sorry for using that word. So how did you get in here?"
"That's the gray section, towards the end."
Julia flipped through and tried to read them. "This is worse than'Finnegans Wake'."
"You don't know the half of it. But as I was reading that, I got blipped to Wildwood Park."
"Blipped?"
"Pinged. You know, there one second, gone the next. Zap! All the way from Arizona to Wisconsin!"
"That's what 'blipped' is. OK, so what were you doing in WildwoodPark?"
"Hard to say. I was reading this over, trying to remember all the math I knew ten years ago, thinking about how I used to come up with ideas for class while I walked Roosevelt, about how we used to walk through Wildwood Park on Sundays, how I used to sit on that bench across from the swings, and next thing you know, I'm sitting on that bench looking at the swings!"
"So, you're saying that if I went through these pages and thought of, say, Nova Scotia, you would have blipped there instead?"
"Sort of. It's a set of equations that tells you how to travel anywhere instantly. It took a few more tries to get it to work again, but in the last few minutes I've been over half the globe."
Julia closed her eyes so Uncle Justin wouldn't see her roll them.
He tapped her on the arm, and when she opened her eyes, he handed her a brochure in French.
"From the Louvre," he said.
"I thought they'd be closed by now," she muttered.
"They are," Justin replied.
"You realize the damage this will do the economy," she said, flinging her hands in the air in mock exasperation. "No more gasoline, cars, airlines —"
"I don't need sarcasm right now, Jule," Justin said. "I need some help. Now."
"So," Julia sighed, "my choices are: either accept the possibility that you may have done the impossible, or ostracize you like a kook along with the rest of humanity despite the evidence of my senses. Right?"
"I think," Justin said, "you've finally figured out how the world works."
22. The Plan"If life doesn't offer a game worth playing, then invent a new one."— Anthony J. D'Angelo
Denny walked into the interrogation room to find Neoldner and Kurt giggling inside a cloud of smoke.
"Oh cripes," Denny muttered.
When they heard Denny in the doorway, they stopped moving, slowly turned toward him, and starting giggling again.
Denny clenched his fists and exhaled slowly. "OK, Neoldner, why don't you take five?"
Neoldner nodded in agreement and stepped into the hallway, giggling all the way out. Once he had left, Denny gave Kurt a quick stare, and suddenly, Kurt's giggling stopped.
"Whoa, what did you do?" he asked.
"I had to remove whatever it was you didn't inhale from your bloodstream," he said. His legs suddenly felt limp, and his steadied himself against the wall. "It takes something out of you to work that precisely." Slowly, he moved toward the other chair and sat down.
"When am I going to learn to do that?" Kurt asked.
"If we had a clipboard, we'd start ASAP, but we're kind of screwed right now. Forrester's taken, along with his copy; Justin Nelson has another. We were making more, but our copier ran out of toner."
Kurt pondered this for a moment.
"What kind of organization is this?"
"The shoe-string kind."
"Well, if you can't get your hands on some toner, how do you expect to take over the frigging world?!"
Denny gave Kurt a dark look.
"Sorry…" Kurt muttered.
"As it happens, we're not trying to take over the 'frigging' world.We're trying to create our own."
Kurt guffawed and slapped his knee, and stopped when he noticed that same scowl on Denny's face.
"OK, so, you're trying to create your own world…"
Neoldner, stumbling his way past door, and still giggling, shouted:"Planet Wisconsin! Woo-hoo!"
Kurt covered the smile on his face with his hand. Denny sighed, stood, and shut the door.
"Not a new planet, a new world. There's a lot we can do, now that we've figured out the secret. Moving from point A to point B in zero time is just one aspect. Moving from one alphabet to another takes organization."
"I'm lost."
"OK, follow the metaphor. You're in the restroom, then you're here.Point A to point B."
"Uh-huh."
"You're here, and then you're in a new world. Not another planet, another level of existence. Somewhere you normally can't get to from here. You've gone from point A to point µ. That's where we're trying to get to. Got it?"
Kurt thought about this.
"So why this conspiracy?"
"It'll take a concerted effort if we're going to take the town with us."
Kurt's jaw dropped. "All of it?"
"Every last citizen and every last piece of concrete. A community isn't an easy thing to build, is it? So we'll just bring along what we've got."
"Including Wildcat Graham?"
"Who?"
"She's a senior at Tranquil High."
"Yes, if she's in town."
"What about Wendy Branwell?"
"Yes, her too," Denny said, placing his head in his hands.
"And —"
The door burst opened. Denny and Kurt turned to see Prof. Sigger enter wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard — a smirk borne of a thousand cut-throat departmental meetings perched cruelly on his lips.
"Allow me," said the latest recruit. "Due to recent vacancies I was offered a post… tenure track, of course! Let me interrogate this capitalist."
"I'm a capitalist," Denny said, sternly.
"Oh yes, yes," Prof. Sigger replied. He turned to Kurt. "Now, when did you first notice that you were being indoctrinated by right-wing ideologues?"
"What?" Kurt asked, scratching his arm.
"When did you become a mind-numbed robot? Why have you become resistant to income redistribution?"
Kurt looked at Denny, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"It's going to be a perfect world with him along?" Kurt asked.
Denny looked up and stared at his colleague for a moment, who then disappeared. The clipboard fell to the floor. Kurt stared at the space before him that used to occupy Prof. Sigger.
"Cool…" he whispered.
23. Real Love"Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it."— Song of Solomon 8:7
Ritchie flipped through the clipboard one more time before placing it on the table between his recliner and his wife's rocking chair.
"Did you find anything useful?" Betty asked, without looking up from her knitting. Tom and Alona sat across from them on the coach, holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes.
"Did we ever look that stupid?" Ritchie whispered.
"Oh yes," Betty replied confidently.
"Thank God I'm getting old," Ritchie grunted.
"Now, hon'," Betty admonished gently.
"I only found one name in there that might help us at all. Any idea where Seltsam Street or Avenue or whatever it is might be?"
"No idea. Are you sure it's a street and not a name of somebody?"
"A couple pages referred to it as a meeting place. I guess we'll have to see if the Lovebirds birds know anything. Standby with a bucket of cold water in case I can't get through," he said.
Betty chuckled and kept knitting.
Ritchie cleared his throat. Getting no response, he tried again with gusto. He considered tossing the TV Guide at them, but figured that would be too humiliating. So he settled on using his 'voice of authority': "Hey, Lovebirds!"
The Lovebirds jumped slightly and turned toward the voice, as if unaware that anyone else had been in the room.
"Any idea where Seltsam Street or Avenue or whatever it is might be?"
"Seltsam? Sounds German," Alona said.
"Seltsam Way?" Tom asked.
"Could be," Ritchie said.
"That's that cul de sac that ends up behind the theater."
"Oh!" Betty said. "Remember when they rezoned Doege? They put in Vine Avenue and the library and cut off Seltsam, remember? There were those town meetings about it — oh my, that would have to be thirty years ago!"
"That has been a while! I forgot all about that street. Tom, does any other business have access to Seltsam?"
But Tom and Alona had already lost themselves again in each other's eyes.
"Oh for Pete's sake!" Ritchie muttered.
"They make such a wonderful couple," Betty sighed.
"A couple of what is what I'd like to know… Now listen here, Lovebirds!" The Lovebirds turned. "Whatever's going on, the people who are working with this guy," Ritchie said, pointing to the still unconscious Forrester, lying in the corner with a pillow under his head and Betty's second-best afghan over him, "meet at Seltsam. If the only place you can get to from there is that theater, then maybe that's where they are."
Tom slapped his hand to head. "The theater! The basement! It's huge, and the Manager never lets me go down there!"
Alona smiled and said: "I knew you'd figure it out!"
Ritchie felt like reclining his chair all the way back and calling it a night, but his wife reached over and patted his hand, which was all the support he needed, all that he would ever need, to get up in spite of himself and do what had to be done.
24. Challenging assumptions "I have learned throughout my life as a composer chiefly through my mistakes and pursuits of false assumptions, not by my exposure to founts of wisdom and knowledge." — Igor Stravinsky
"And there's something else about this movement business," Justin began, still sitting on the floor and leaning back against a dry portion of the couch.
"Where did Cecil go?" Julia asked, looking around the corner into the bedroom.
"I don't know. The thing about this instantaneous movement is — "
"Cecil!" she called. "Kitty, kitty, kitty!"
"He's probably in the bathroom," Justin grunted. "Hiding. He'll come out in his own time."
"I know, I'm just feeling paranoid right now."
"I understand. But the thing about this movement -"
"Look, I can barely follow physics when I can think straight — which is not now — so skip over that and just tell me where we go from here."
Justin sighed. What good was discovering something important if no one wanted to hear about it?
"There's only one thing we can do. We find Seltsam, whatever that is. That's probably where they're operating from. I don't know what they're planning, but from what's written in here, it's big!"
"Uncle Justin, you've stumbled on the secret of instant travel, you've gone half-way around the world in the last hour or so, and you don't have the first clue where Seltsam is. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
Justin grimaced. "Yeah. And with their freedom of movement, I'd say it could be anywhere on Earth."
"I think I can find out," she said, standing up and walking to the phone. She began to dialing, but suddenly stopped and turned to Justin. "Uncle Justin, would you mind… just going somewhere else for a moment? Like outside? No, go outside the normal way, through the door. Thank-you. And shut it behind you!" Justin allowed himself to be forced outside, where he waited at the top of the steps, wondering whether or not he could blip himself a coat if the wind got any colder.
"Oh, but baby!" Rhonda squealed on the other end of the line. "I'm not supposed to say! I didn't want to give you those cigarettes! Denny told me to!"
"Denny's in on this, too?!"
"Oops," Rhonda muttered.
"Well, forget Denny for a minute. I just need to know how to get toSeltsam. Is it an avenue? A street?"
"How to get to Seltsam-ee Street!" Rhonda sang, her voice growing farther away.
Just how wasted is she this time? Julia wondered. "Hello! Earth toRhonda! Put the phone back to your ear, darling. Tell me whereSeltsam is and I'll let you get back to… whatever it was you weredoing."
"Oh, I've been up to my eyeballs in what I've been doing — !"
Julia nearly hung up the phone, but decided she had to try one more trick before giving up. She leaned against the counter and tried to make her voice sound threatening. "Tell me where Seltsam is or I'll send you off God knows where!"
There was a sobering silence at the other end. "What?"
"You know what I mean. Zap! You're somewhere else. Only it'll be worse than Tranquil. Worse than Wisconsin!"
"Arkansas?!" Rhonda shouted with disgust.
"What's so bad about — I mean, yes, Arkansas! Right in the middle of… of Hindsville! In Madison county. A dry county!"
"Oh God, no!" Rhonda wailed.
"Uncle Justin has the clipboard all ready… On the count of three?One, two…"
"Stop! You win! It's Seltsam Way, the street behind the theater!"
"Where I just got hired? Was that all part of this too?!"
"Well, what do you think?" Rhonda said. "That it was all just coincidence?"
Julia stood listening to the silence for a moment, and then hung up the phone. Justin stepped out of the bathroom.
"I thought you were waiting outside!"
"It got cold. I didn't have my jacket!"
"I suppose you heard all of that," she said.
"Most of it. Where's Seltsam?"
"Seltsam Way, behind the theater."
"Oh yeah. I forgot about that road. Well, we better get going."
Julia picked up her keys. "Wait. You didn't see Cecil in there, did you?"
"Not unless he got inside the cabinets."
Julia went into the bedroom and looked around. She lifted the skirt of the bed and peered underneath. No cat. She looked in the closet. No cat (as far as she could tell, with all of her junk in the way).
"We have to get going," Justin commented.
"Cecil!" Julia called.
"He's just hiding! We have to go, now!"
Julia shrugged and sighed.
"So how's it done?"
"You won't need your keys, but take them if you want," he said. "Hold my hands."
For a moment, Julia began to feel the room spin. And then, she wondered how it was that she had reached the exact center of the universe.
25. When it hits the fan "Truth is the only safe ground to stand on." — Elizabeth Cady Stanton
When Prof. Sigger found himself standing three miles outside of town on County Highway A, he was, to say the least, chagrined. He tried thumbing a ride from a couple in a pickup, but no luck. They were too busy necking. One of them, however, did throw an empty beer can to him.
After studying his situation carefully, he decided that he either must walk the three miles or try that new method of movement that was supposed to be listed in the gray section of the clipboard. And considering that he hadn't exercised regularly in years, the clipboard seemed to be the better option.
With only the starlight behind him, he began to read his way through the higher math. It wasn't easy, but at the end of four minutes, he decided that the section in question had to be interpreted subjectively. This had been a theme of his academic career, so the conclusion hadn't come as a surprise. It was amazing how elastic a text could be given the right kind of reader. In fact, he had often convinced himself (when lecturing to a room full of stupefied students) that only he and his method could arrive at any kind of coherent, but highly tentative, meaning. When he had debated the subject years before, the experience of reading had come down to an indeterminacy that left out the possibility of conclusive understanding. This disappointed many of his undergraduates, but then, reality was more often than not a disappointment. His writings on the matter had taken him a long way at the beginning of his career, but after years of more ardent methods of spiritual exploration, late at night, with several friends keeping a bloodshot eye out for the police, his writing had lost something of the cohesiveness it once had. He had always assumed that he would get it back one day, but lately, the face he encountered in the mirror looked more like his father's than his own, and although he had taken some positive strides to get back into the lit. theory game, he hadn't enjoyed much success. This new venture, however, seemed to be the turnaround. Having this kind of power would turn not a few heads — networking being the prime ingredient in any good, tenured position.
Skimming through the pages one last time, he decided that he had arrived at a justifiable understanding of the matter. Perhaps he would make an entrance at the exact spot where he had left. Or just outside the theater. Or perhaps on the roof. Too dramatic? He settled for just outside the theater's back door, in Seltsam Way.
He closed his eyes in order to concentrate on the math, felt that peculiar sensation of vertigo, and felt a cool wind blow on his face. He opened his eyes to find himself hovering a thousand feet above Tranquil. His heart stopped beating as he began to fall, but began again, much to his relief as well as anguish.
He nearly let go of the clipboard, but managed to clutch it to his chest as the pages, his clothes, and the Earth, began to flutter violently around him. The fell past some kind of balloon, reached out to catch hold of it, but it was too late. Now, the only thing that could save him were those few pages whose contents he had just forgotten, thanks to a somewhat reduced short-term memory. The only numbers he could recall (as he struggled to find and not lose his place) was his rate of descent: thirty-two feet per second per second.
Something inside him wondered how long it would take to reach the end of his fall, and something else answered that this could not be known without ascertaining one's starting altitude. Strange, he thought, what you think of when you find yourself airborne without a parachute. But he forced himself to focus on what little he could read as he tumbled toward to the ground. And though he had spent the bulk of his academic career teaching his students that truth, with its duplicitous and mutable definitions, could never be found in a text, he began to search, quickly and sincerely, for meaning.
26. It Falls Together"Everybody has got to die, but I always believed an exception would bemade in my case."— William Saroyan
The station-wagon swerved around the corner (as it had all the previous), jolting and jarring its passengers from one side to another. Tom and Alona, in the back seat, were thrown next to each other at near regular intervals, wondering how long their luck would last. With a final, sharp turn of the wheel, Ritchie half-drove, half-skidded off Central and into the back alley known as Seltsam Way.
"There it is!" he shouted.
"This isn't a cavalry charge, dear," Betty muttered, having braced herself in the passenger seat as best she could throughout the horrible ride.
"Now we'll see what's going on around here!" he replied.
It was when a man dressed in a lab coat plunged from the sky and slammed into their hood, pitching the car forward and then back onto its wheels as the body rolled off the windshield and into the alleyway behind them that Ritchie finally applied the brakes. The wagon skidded to a stop, turning as it slid until the vehicle became lodged in the narrow alley. After the occupants caught their breath, Betty spoke.
"I think you hit him," she said.
"I didn't hit him, he hit me!" Ritchie replied.
"Look at the hood! The car's totaled!" Tom cried.
"He fell on us! How could I know he was going jump and land on my car?!"
"Who are they?" Alona asked, looking past Tom as they sat pressed against the door.
"Who?" Ritchie asked.
"That old guy and… isn't that what's-her-name from Osco?"
"Do the doors still work?" Betty asked in a shaky voice.
They did, and the four of them crawled out the driver's side and slowly made their way on unsteady feet toward the body.
"You got one!" shouted the old man.
"Justin…" the girl admonished.
"You know him?" Ritchie asked, pointing to the man the coat.
"Never seen him before, but I'm guessing he's one of them."
"How do you know?" Betty asked.
And, coincidentally, the contents of a clipboard came fluttering down upon them like leaves.
"Justin Nelson," Justin said, extending his hand to Ritchie.Introductions were made all around.
"Didn't you work at Osco?" Alona asked.
"Until they fired me!" Julia replied. "And then they hired me here."
"Here?" Tom asked. "Doing what?"
"Concessions."
"My job?!"
"Be glad you were out of it," Alona said.
"Yeah, but I wasn't even told I was fired!"
"So who is this guy?" Ritchie repeated.
"I don't know. No name tag," Justin replied.
"He's moving!" Betty shouted.
All turned toward the man who lay in the alley. Somehow, he was still alive, gasping for breath. When his gaze caught Alona's, she recognized him.
"Professor Sigger!" she shouted.
"Alona…" gasped the professor.
"You're involved in this?" Ritchie demanded.
"Tricked me… Fascist swine…"
Justin bent down to the dying man's ears. "Quick, man! Why are they doing this?!"
"Trying to take the town with them," he gasped. "Conspiracy… half the town… ran out of toner…"
"Shouldn't we call an ambulance?" Betty asked, wringing her hands.
Prof. Sigger looked back at Alona and with his dying breath said:"Damn…."
The group stood around the corpse, unsure of what to do.
"Half the town? Probably the police are in on this too, then. Can't call them," Justin said.
"Shouldn't we cover him up?" Betty asked.
"I think we need to get into that theater first," Ritchie said. "He said something about taking half the town."
"If they can, we're in real trouble," Justin said.
"But what does it mean?" Alona asked.
"The way they move. Instantly. That's how they kidnap people. They move them or themselves instantly from one point to another. That's probably what this guy meant. Their goal must be to take the town with them," Justin said.
"That's stupid," Tom muttered.
"No!" Alona said. "That's what happened to Prof. Sigger! He was there one second and gone the next! And that's how they got Kurt!"
"Just what is going on here?" Betty asked.
"We won't know that until we get inside," Justin replied.
"Right," Ritchie began. "Let's sneak in the back, and — well, we'd have to crawl over the car to get in."
"Forget that. They'll be expecting us now. Might as well use the front door," Justin concluded.
They agreed and began the short walk around the building to the main entrance. Julia, unusually quiet, was the only one who didn't follow immediately. Her attention was fixed on a piece of paper that had fallen on Prof. Sigger's face, covering him just as Betty had wanted.
Julia bent down and saw that it was a form labeled 3G, "Complaints,Problems, Irregularities:" The rest was blank.
"Did you ever have one of those days," Julia found herself repeating, "when you think you've noticed something everyone else has missed?"
27. Their Last Stand?"The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are alwaysso certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts."— Bertrand Russell
"You killed Prof. Sigger," said the Lab Coat Man, pacing back and forth in the basement hallway. "How could you?"
"I didn't kill him," Denny repeated, rubbing his face with his hands. He sat inside the small office, leaning back as far as he could in the one decent office chair the conspiracy had acquired. "I sent him outside of town, and the idiot tried to get back without using the proper steps."
"And shot himself a thousand feet in the air? On his first try?"
"You know what I know…" Denny leaned forward until he was sitting straight, took a cigarette from his pack, and lit up. The Lab Coat Man continued to pace.
"How could he interpret that from our notes?!"
"I don't know!"
"There's no smoking down here," the Lab Coat Man complained, as Denny blew a long, slow cloud into the room.
"There is now," he replied. "All I did was send Sigger out of town for a little while. The rest is on him."
"'Out of town'? You mean — you were trying to make sure we didn't take him with us, weren't you?"
"Don't tell me you weren't tempted."
The Lab Coat Man considered this. "OK, I won't, because I was, if you understand me."
Denny waved his hand as if to say: "Whatever."
"You'll still have to tell the Director," the Lab Coat Man. "I'm not going to!"
"Tell me what?" asked a voice. The men turned as the Manager walked in.
"We have bad news," the Lab Coat Man said.
"Or good news, depending on your point of view," Denny muttered. He avoided the stern look that the Lab Coat Man gave him momentarily.
"We've lost Sigger," the Lab Coat Man said.
"So? Get him back," the Manager/Director replied. "It's not like you need a travel voucher."
"No, we lost him," Denny said. "He's lying in Seltsam Way after falling from… a great height."
The Director paused. "How did he get to a great height in the first place?"
"He must have ignored the information on the second page," Denny said. "I sent him out of town to… to cool off. He decided to come back the easy way, and then —" Denny slapped his hand on the table.
"Oh dear," the Director replied.
"Indeed," the Lab Coat Man added.
"Indeed what?" the Director asked.
"Nothing," the Lab Coat Man muttered, turning away.
"I see you don't know, then," the Director said.
"Know what?" Denny asked.
The Manager swung his hands apart and then together in loud clap."They're right outside."
"Who?" asked the Lab Coat Man.
"All of them. Justin, Julia, Tom, Alona, Ritchie, Betty…"
"Outside?"
"Nearing the front doors as we speak."
Denny muttered a curse, stood up, tossed his cigarette to the floor, and crushed it under his foot.
"Get Kurt," he said to the Lab Coat Man, "Neoldner, anybody. Extra-Short Notice Emergency Meeting, or whatever the hell Forrester would call it. Whoever's available. No, I take that back. Whoever's available and sober."
"That leaves out Rhonda, then," the Lab Coat Man sighed.
"But what could they do?" asked the Director. "We've got almost the entire town on our side."
"Why do you think we take new recruits by surprise? It comes down to willpower. A willing or unsuspecting subject is a lot easier to move than someone who's fighting you. You'd have known that if you'd bother to read what we sent you!"
"I financed what I could, gave us a place to work, but I left it up toForrester to —"
"Never mind," Denny said. "Let's get up there before anything else happens." He brushed past the Director and the Lab Coat Man, past open cardboard boxes that contained their extra supplies, including clipboards, paper, and lab coats still wrapped in plastic.
28. Breaking the Law"As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are notcertain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality."— Albert Einstein
"Where's Julia?" Uncle Justin asked. Tom's hand had just reached the door of the theater, and everyone looked around.
"I thought she was behind me," Betty said.
"Did you see her?" Tom asked Alona, thankful for the excuse to gaze into her eyes.
"No," she replied, gazing back.
They heard footsteps, and Julia came jogging up to them from around the theater.
"Where have you been?" asked Uncle Justin, the concern evident in his voice.
"Thinking," she replied, brushing the hair out of her eyes.
"Couldn't you do that without waiting behind?"
"Like you should talk," Julia mumbled to herself.
The rest of the group began looking around at the other shops on the street. For some reason, they were all closed. Traffic had dwindled down to nothing. The street-lights had come on early, revealing a deserted town.
"We'd better hurry," Ritchie said. "Is the door open?"
"I think so," Tom replied, reaching for the door again.
"Wait," Julia said. "That's what I wanted to say. Something is wrong."
"What?" they asked.
"I don't know."
They stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was being serious. "Did you see something?" Uncle Justin asked, wondering if there was some danger that he had missed.
"No, that's just it. There's something wrong here. And it's more than this conspiracy."
"That may be," Ritchie began, "but right now we have to see what they're up to and where Kurt is. Try the door, Tom."
"But —" Julia began.
Tom pulled at the door, which swung silently open. The lights were on, but the lobby was deserted. A large sign rested on an easel announced the films of the evening. Tom walked up to it and gave it a kick, toppling the stand and sending the sign into the corner.
"That's theater property," said the Director, somehow stepping out from behind the concession counter.
"It's the Manager!" Tom said.
"No, not the Manager. I'm the Director. I have been for some time."
"Why doesn't he have a name?" muttered Julia to no one but herself.
"You've been directing this outfit?" Ritchie asked.
"About as well as Ed Wood," Tom scoffed.
The Director reddened.
"Hold on, let's remember why we're here," Justin began.
"Where's Kurt?!" Ritchie shouted.
"I'm right here," Kurt said, stepping out of the doors that led to the bigger screen.
"Kurt!" Alona said.
"Alona!" Kurt said, almost simultaneously.
"Butthead!" Julia said.
"Don't call me that!" Kurt said, and gave Julia a stare that meant only one thing.
"Move!" Uncle Justin yelled, pushing Julia out of the way. She stumbled and fell against the ticket counter. The artificial plant that had been just behind her disappeared.
"Hold it!" the Director shouted. "Let's not get violent."
"Why not?" asked Denny, stepping out of the emergency exit. "Did you think we'd get what we want by being nice?"
"We want a better world, Denny! I'm sure these people can be made to understand what we're trying to do."
"And what exactly is that?" Ritchie asked.
"We're going to move the town to a better place," the Director replied.
"Northern Wisconsin?" Alona asked.
"Minnesota?" Betty asked.
"Somewhere where they run bad movies 24/7?" Tom asked with a smirk.
"Somewhere that's not here!" replied Shenika, as she stepped out magically from behind the ticket counter. "Do you want to be stuck in this backwater state forever?!"
Julia stood up and tried to work out the kink in her back. "You hate Wisconsin, is that it? What kind of an excuse is that to start a conspiracy?"
"Most people know that everyone in Wisconsin hates Wis-" Kurt began.
"I like this state!" Ritchie said, Betty nodding in the affirmative by his side.
"It's not about this state!" Denny yelled. "Why stay in a world where…" He couldn't finish, but the nightmare he'd had since he was six flashed before his eyes anyway. A bang. Everyone jumps and covers their ears. She's sprawled on the floor. Blood running from her body. A man with a gun by the door. Another shot outside, and he falls.
"Where what?" Julia asked when Denny didn't continue. "Where on Earth were you planning to go?" Julia asked.
"That's just it!" the Director exclaimed. "Not on Earth! Somewhere else!"
There was a pause, and then Tom said: "You've been watching too many of your own movies. You're full of crap."
"We can do it whenever we want to, numb-nuts!" Kurt shot back.
"Then why haven't you?" Betty asked.
"Because we can't do it whenever we want to," Denny admitted, giving Kurt a dark look. "It takes planning, preparation… recruitment, teamwork. And it's going to be a lot more difficult if you stand in our way. So…"
"You want us to agree with you?" Ritchie asked. "To send this whole town to Fairy-Land just because you don't like it here? Why not just move?!"
"It's not the state that's the problem," said the Lab Coat Man, stepping out from the doors leading to the smaller theater. "That point has been exaggerated by one or two of my colleagues. It's this world that's the problem. Who would ever choose to live in a world like this? No one, in truth, and we've found a way out and want to take the town with us. You ought to be thanking us for our generosity, really."
"No wonder you recruited Sigger," Alona said. "You are such an ass… although I respect your right to religious difference."
"I'll have you know — !" began the Lab Coat Man, his hand moving to cover his forehead.
"Never mind all that," Justin interrupted, "it won't work."
All turned to him. The Director and Denny took a step forward.
"Like hell it won't," Denny said. "You should know that."
"Whoever wrote these formulas had a lot of insight… Had to. They solved the big mystery in physics: how gravity relates to the other fundamental cosmic forces."
The Director grinned. "Well, I'm not at liberty to say where they came from, but thank-you!"
"Like you had anything to do with it," Denny grumbled.
Kurt giggled until the Director gave him a scowl.
"Oh, I'm not saying it doesn't work. It does. But there's a flaw here."
"If this turns into a science class," said Zeke, who had appeared just inside the main doors, "I'm leaving."
"Don't be rude, Ezekiel," said the old lady, who appeared in a corner along with her rocking chair. "Go on, Mr. Nelson."
Justin scratched his head and went on. "You seem to be violating theLaw of Conservation of Energy."
"I told you he was a nutcase!" said the police officer, who had appeared at the Director's side.
"Seem to be violating…?" Denny said. "Either we are or we aren't."
"Which law is that again?" Tom asked.
"The Law of Conservation of Energy," Alona repeated.
"You're so smart," Tom replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"How does it work?" the Lab Coat Man asked. "And don't pretend I'm the only one who doesn't know how it works!" he added, rubbing the spot on his forehead in agitation.
"It's a law in the strictest sense. There's no way around it," Justin said.
"This is a science class!" moaned Zeke.
"Oh, have a seat and be quiet!" the Director snapped. "If there is a flaw in the formula, we have to know about it!"
"Assuming he's not lying," the cop said.