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Very Rich

Page 11

by Polly Horvath


  “Oh, Freddy, I think you’re right. I think they are following us,” said Delia, clutching his arm. “Do you think they’re criminals? Do you think they’re here to pick our pockets?”

  “How do I know? It’s not like I’ve been in jail maybe or prison for, like, just a short time for something I hardly even did where I could meet guys like that,” said Freddy indignantly.

  Meanwhile Uncle Henry had grabbed the opportunity to pull Rupert back into the crowd, saying, “Cheese it, they made us.”

  They quickly wound their way through the crowd, getting lost in it.

  “Now what?” asked Rupert when they stopped to catch their breath.

  “A Rivers never gives up,” said Uncle Henry. “Come on, we don’t have food or money but we still have four tickets left. Let’s go on a couple of rides and give your parents some space. Then we can find them again sometime before the fireworks start.”

  “Maybe we should just get in the time machine and go home,” said Rupert. He was getting tired and he never wanted to take his father’s wallet to begin with. He had never seen his parents having such a good time and he felt the right thing to do was to leave them alone to enjoy it.

  “I’m not departing this place until I get a funnel cake,” said Uncle Henry.

  “Okay,” said Rupert. “But there’re so many rides. Which one do you want to go on? I don’t want to be upside down again.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Uncle Henry. “I have given the matter some thought and have formulated a comprehensive plan.”

  Uncle Henry’s plan for picking rides was pretty much the same plan he had had for picking food. It involved surveying all the rides and then making a careful list of rides they most wanted to go on. This took some time but, except for Rupert’s ever-gnawing hunger and the wonderful torturous smells of the food, he enjoyed it. The crowds alone were fun to watch. And the unaccustomed preponderance of hot pink and baby blue. Sticks of hot pink and baby blue cotton candy drifted by in the sweaty hands of fairgoers. Hot pink and baby blue stuffed animals and balloons were held aloft. Rupert realized that just the newness of a place with such different predominant colors was wonderful. Newness was a great thing, he decided. It somehow woke you up.

  The only ride Rupert saw that he wanted to go on was the merry-go-round. But Uncle Henry seemed to have forgotten his terror on the roller coaster and how he had said he would never step foot on such a death machine again, and now he wanted to go on the octopus and the twister, the Tilt-A-Whirl, and a horrible thing that looked like a spinning cage. In the end, they compromised on the merry-go-round for Rupert and the Ferris wheel for Uncle Henry.

  Rupert enjoyed the merry-go-round even though Uncle Henry kept sullenly muttering, “It’s nothing like a real horse. Why do they bother? You can’t even canter them. This posting trot is getting tedious. And, I mean, pink and blue ponies? It’s nauseating. The polo club would vomit if they saw this.”

  Uncle Henry hadn’t eaten in a while either and unlike Rupert he wasn’t used to this. He could not even put his finger on the unusual sensations he was feeling. All he knew was that he was feeling cranky and there was a peculiar emptiness to his stomach. The mothers he accosted with advice about equitation were moving one by one to the other side of the merry-go-round until Rupert and Uncle Henry were quite alone.

  Rupert sighed. He wondered if Uncle Henry was going to cause them to be put off the ride, but after a bit Uncle Henry quieted down and looked sullenly out as round and round they went. The afternoon had faded into evening and lights were coming on all over the park as the sun began to go down over the river, leaving red and orange streaks in the roiling water.

  “It may almost be time for fireworks,” said Uncle Henry as they lined up for the Ferris wheel. “It is my experience that they shoot them off as soon as the sun sets.”

  “Maybe we should skip the Ferris wheel and go down to the riverbank to find a place to sit and watch them,” said Rupert, eyeing the enormous wheel nervously.

  “We’ve time. I’m sure we’ve time, and besides, it’s the perfect way to see where your parents have gotten to. We’ll be able to survey the whole park from the top.”

  Rupert knew it was useless to argue with Uncle Henry, so with trepidation he got on the Ferris wheel next to him. But as soon as it started to go up he realized that he hated this almost more than the roller coaster. It not only took you high up, the car swung back and forth and—oh, horror—stopped at the very top.

  “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” chanted Rupert, clinging to the safety bar with white knuckles. “Let us down. Let us down. There must be something wrong! Some reason it has stopped. We’ll be killed!”

  “Oh, get a grip. These things are always stopping,” said Uncle Henry, evidently enjoying himself. “Let’s see if we can make it really rock.”

  “Please no,” pleaded Rupert. His eyes were firmly shut.

  “AHA!” screamed Uncle Henry suddenly.

  “AM I GOING TO DIE?” screamed Rupert back.

  “No, you idiot. Who screams AHA when announcing imminent death? Surely you would scream, OHMYGOD! or IVEALWAYSLOVEDYOU or ITWAS­IWHOD­ROPPE­DYOUR­TOOTH­BRUSH­INTHE­TOILET! No, you twit, it’s your parents! I can see them. For heaven’s sake, open your eyes and quickly take a look. We’re moving again and soon we’ll be too low to clock them. Take note, they’re to the right of the corn dog stand and under that big tree.”

  Rupert opened his eyes and gasped. He could see the whole park, not that he wanted to. He looked where Uncle Henry was pointing until he found his parents. They were under a tree by the riverbank, kissing as if their whole lives depended on it.

  “My goodness,” chuckled Uncle Henry.

  Rupert was embarrassed but also fascinated. It had never occurred to him that his parents had ever felt this way about each other or done things like kiss passionately under a tree on a soft September evening.

  “Come on, we’ve got to get off,” Rupert said when they reached the bottom, but of course they couldn’t get off. The Ferris wheel went down but then backward and up they went again. Rupert had to endure three more loops. It was agonizing at first, but Rupert kept his eyes open this time and forgot about his fears in order to catch a glimpse of his parents again. And so he also saw the throngs of people moving in streams between food stands and rides. And the stars coming out in the sky. The twinkling lights of the riverboats and the moon now rising full and orange above it all. And every time they reached the top he saw his parents, their arms around each other as if holding on for dear life in the swiftly moving, always changing, mutable, morphable universe.

  By the time the Ferris wheel had stopped, loud speakers were announcing that the fireworks display was about to begin.

  People began to drift in that direction like tributaries trickling to the river.

  “Come on!” urged Uncle Henry, grabbing Rupert’s hand, and together they ran to the riverbank, dodging around the throngs of people heading the same way. The first firework had already gone off by the time they settled on the ground behind the tree underneath which lay Rupert’s parents.

  “I’m really starving,” said Uncle Henry. “If we can’t get your dad’s wallet I say we go after someone else’s. Come to think of it, I have no idea now why I’ve been so focused on only one wallet. Sheer idiocy. Tunnel vision. There’s hundreds of wallets here. Any one will do. It’s completely justified. People shouldn’t starve. Or be deprived of funnel cake. Completely justified. And, after all, soon we will be returning to our own time and it will be as if we’ve never been here, so what difference does it make? Who ends up with the money for funnel cake is, after all, a rather random thing anyway, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not as if they are more deserving than we are. And look, no one is paying any attention, they’re all looking up at the fireworks. Oh look, look, we caught a break, your dad is lying on his side, I’ve got a real good shot at getting into his pants pocket. Just watch me. Funnel cake is seconds away, boy.”

  Uncl
e Henry inched his way along the ground on his belly while fireworks went off above and the crowd oohed and aahed.

  “Oh, Freddy, it’s so beautiful,” sighed Delia. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “I meant what I said before, you know…What’s your name again?”

  “Delia.”

  “Right, Delia, you’re, like, my girlfriend now,” said Freddy. “Maybe I will move to Steelville. I mean, it’s not like Cincinnati. It won’t have the same kind of opportunities that a guy like me deserves, but I gotta a feeling about us, Delia.”

  “You do, Freddy?”

  “Sure, I do.”

  “ ’Cause I gotta a feeling about us, too, Freddy,” said Delia in almost a whisper. “I’ve had a lot of boyfriends but I never felt this way about a guy before. Right off the bat, you know? Gosh, my own parents didn’t stay together; I didn’t even much know my dad ever. And my mom—I don’t remember her ever being happy. She was sad the whole time I was growing up and I thought, you know, she just never had anyone. That was why she was so sad. And growing up watching her being sad all the time, I never wanted that for me. I never wanted to be lonely. I always thought, you know, if I could find the right person, then I could have a happy life. That’s what I think. If you’re with the right person who makes you happy, you can be happy forever, Freddy. I believe that. Do you believe that, Freddy?”

  “Yeah, Delia,” said Freddy, “I never talked to anyone like this before. But yeah, I do. I think I feel the same. I think I never met no one like you before. I feel, I don’t know, different. Like maybe life’s not such a rough deal after all. Like maybe you’re the good thing that’s going to happen to me in my life. I’ve been waiting for a good thing to happen. I always thought I was special, but nothin’ special ever happens for me. But now I think maybe you’re it.”

  “Oh, Freddy,” whispered Delia, turning her face up to kiss him. “No one ever said anything like that to me before.”

  Delia sat up again and Freddy sat up next to her and her hand found Freddy’s and they tilted their heads up to the fireworks. It was if they could see all of their young lives and ambitions and dreams and hopes exploding over their heads above them. Freddy leaned in closer now for a kiss but it wasn’t like the passionate kisses they’d shared earlier, it was softer, more innocent, it was what he wished he could have been if things had started out differently for him. Afterward Delia dropped her head gently on his shoulder, and they sat like that in one perfect moment in the warm dark.

  Uncle Henry was still scooting toward them, dodging out of sight every time Freddy’s angle changed, when suddenly he stopped.

  “What’s that sound?” he asked, turning to Rupert in sudden panic.

  Rupert was startled out of the trance he had fallen into listening to his young parents on the day they met, and he turned and said, “Huh? Oh, that’s a truck coming down the dirt road. It’s a…” His eyes strained to see in the dark.

  “What kind of a truck?” asked Uncle Henry in alarm.

  “A garbage truck,” said Rupert unconcernedly.

  But suddenly the meaning of this pierced through Rupert’s trance and he leapt up. Uncle Henry was already on his feet and running.

  The time machine!

  Uncle Henry and Rupert shoved their way through the packed crowd on the riverbank with people saying irritably, “Hey, you two, quit shoving!” But they ignored everyone in their desperation to get to the hot dog stand. When they finally reached it, panting and sweating, they found all the boxes gone.

  “You, garbage guys!” said Uncle Henry, chasing behind the truck and panting so heavily he could hardly speak. “Where are the boxes that were behind that stand over there?”

  “Whuh?” asked the garbageman, stopping the truck.

  “The boxes that were just here! The boxes?”

  “What do you mean? They’re in the truck, where else?”

  “NO! OH NO!” shouted Uncle Henry. “Well, you’re going to have to empty the truck back out. One of them was there by mistake. I need it. I can’t go home without it.”

  “What are you talking about?” said the garbageman. “Look, there’s empty cartons behind all the stands. Why don’t you just go get yourself another box?”

  “No, no, I don’t want just any box, I want a particular one,” said Uncle Henry. “It had something special in it.”

  “Well, it’s gone now,” said the garbageman. “This truck eats up anything we put in it. It crushes and mashes and packs it down. Your special box is gone, guy. Sorry.” And he leapt onto the truck and moved on.

  Uncle Henry and Rupert looked at each other, their faces pale.

  “This is terrible,” said Rupert. “Are we stuck here? But what will happen to us? How can we be at all if we haven’t been born yet?”

  “Well, you haven’t been born; I’m about thirty by now,” said Uncle Henry.

  “But that’s worse,” said Rupert. “That means there’s another one of you running around. And I don’t want to stay here. We don’t have a home or anything. What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” said Uncle Henry. “Let me think.”

  “Maybe you could invent another time machine,” said Rupert.

  “Are you kidding me? I don’t know how I invented the first one,” said Uncle Henry. “Now, it might not be that bad. I mean, maybe we just have to get back to Steelville. After all, back in 1971 I was living in the same house as I am now. We just go there and I say you are moving in and…”

  “No, that’s a terrible idea!” said Rupert. “There will be two of you. What happens when you’re both in the room at once? Which one will YOU be?”

  “We could tell people we’re twins.”

  “You can’t be twins if one of you is older than the other.”

  “Good thinking, Rupert. Well, I could be my younger self’s mentor. Mentors are always hanging around force-feeding people advice. I rather like the idea of myself in that role.”

  “I think they would remember that there didn’t used to be a mentor hanging around that looked just like your younger self only older.”

  “Would they? Do you really think people pay so much attention? Anyway, here’s another idea. Maybe the younger self disappeared when the older self appeared. After all, we don’t really know how all this works. Maybe only one version of yourself ever exists at any one time.”

  “Oh, sure, that would be just great—explaining to them how you’d suddenly aged so much. And what about me? How can I be ten if my mother hasn’t even given birth to me yet?”

  “Don’t fret so, Rupert. Time is a tricky thing, so let us leave the details to the physicists with their big brains. It is enough that at least we know where to find a roof over our heads.”

  “Argh,” said Rupert, pulling at his hair. “You have a nice house but I don’t want to live in it. I want my own home.”

  “Really?” said Uncle Henry. “Extraordinary. It can’t be as nice as my home. I would have thought you’d have leapt at the chance.”

  “NO, I just want my own life!” Rupert began to bellow in panicked exasperation when a garbage truck ambled by, going from stand to stand collecting trash. “Wait a second! Look at where the truck is going next.”

  “So?” said Uncle Henry.

  “It’s another hot dog stand. Uncle Henry, I don’t think this is where we put the box after all. I think it was at that other stand over there, closer to the gate.”

  Uncle Henry looked to the gate. “I believe you’re…holy moly, Rupert! Run. Run. The truck is almost there.”

  Uncle Henry ran fast. He was old but he had long legs. Rupert was young but he had short legs. They were both in a panic. They reached the stand together just as the garbageman stepped out of his truck to collect the boxes.

  “WAIT!” yelled Uncle Henry, rapidly throwing the pile of hot dog boxes over his shoulder one by one as he frantically searched for the time machine.

  “Hey, stop it, you’re making a mess
,” yelled the garbage guy. “I don’t want to be collecting all those boxes from…”

  But before he could finish Uncle Henry cried, “EUREKA! We got it, boy! We got it! Now quick! Before something else happens!”

  Uncle Henry opened out the box and jumped in, followed by Rupert. Before Uncle Henry could begin his arm-waving theatrics, there was a whizzing and whirring sound, and the next thing they knew they were sitting on the attic floor of the Riverses’ house.

  “Ha!” said Uncle Henry in triumph. “Ha!”

  Then they were both so exhausted they could think of nothing else to say. Rupert untied his shirts and sweatshirt and put them back on. Once they got their breath, they crept down the stairs. The Rivers family could be seen sitting in the dining room eating.

  “Well, I suspect you’re anxious to be off to your own dinner. Mustn’t keep you,” said Uncle Henry dismissively, practically pushing Rupert to the door. For truth be told, Uncle Henry was glad to be home and glad that it was no longer 1971. Glad that he didn’t have to introduce a new person into his household and more than glad that he would never again have to wear paisley.

  “Right,” said Rupert. “Well, thank you. I’ve had a lovely time.”

  “Oh, it was nothing,” said Uncle Henry, gently shoving him out the door.

  Suddenly they were both embarrassed and self-conscious for reasons that were hard to explain. As if they were two strangers finding themselves having shared an experience too chummy for their comfort.

  “Well, good-bye. Have a coat?” asked Uncle Henry distractedly, pushing the button by the front door that opened the gate. It was clear he wanted his supper and also that he’d forgotten Rupert didn’t own a coat.

  “No, just this,” said Rupert, fingering his worn sweatshirt. “Well, good-bye and thanks again.”

  “Think nothing of it.” Uncle Henry closed the door and Rupert trotted down the walkway through the freshly falling snow, shivering madly after the summer night he had just left. He was almost at the gate when Uncle Henry opened the door again and ran tearing up to him. Rupert had a sudden hope he was there to give him a sandwich or even a dinner roll, but instead Uncle Henry leaned in and whispered quickly, “I lied. It wasn’t the Christmas pudding I felt bad about. It was the prizes. I felt bad about the prizes. Now I’ve broken my own rule. But I don’t care.”

 

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