The Island of Dr. Libris

by Chris Grabenstein

  Billy peeked around his tree trunk.

  His mom and dad were staring at Walter.

  “Really?” said his dad.

  “Yes, sir,” said Walter.

  Then Billy heard a wind chime go TINKLE-TINKLE-GLING-GLING.

  “Okay,” said Billy’s dad.

  “Good idea,” said his mom.

  And the two of them climbed into the time machine.

  “Is that pie down there?” said Billy’s mom.

  “Looks like blueberry,” said his dad as he reached out, grabbed hold of the lever, and yanked it back.

  Wind rustled through the trees. The time machine suddenly swung around and around, faster and faster, until it became first a whirling blur and then ghostly streaks of faintly glittering brass and ivory.

  WHOOSH!

  It vanished.

  Billy left his hiding place.

  “Amazing!” hollered Walter. “We totally blasted your mom and dad into the past.”

  Billy glanced at the clock on his iPhone.

  “Okay. They’re young again. Eating blueberry pie. Falling in love. Maybe kissing and junk.”

  “I am so glad we’re not there to see that,” said Walter.

  “Yeah. Now let’s hope the Junior Wizard makes it back in time with the—”

  Before Billy could say “love potion,” the Junior Wizard bounded out of the bushes holding a bright purple bottle.

  “Is that it?” blurted Walter. “How’s it work?”

  The Junior Wizard started to say something.

  But he froze. His whole body sputtered. His pointy hat went jittery. His limbs stuttered back and forth like he was trapped inside a scratched DVD.

  And like the time machine, he vanished.

  “Billy?” said Walter. “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I shut down the Theta Receptors,” someone said in a deep voice.

  A tall man in a white lab coat emerged from the forest. The man’s sleek silver hair was neatly parted and plastered to the side. His eyes were intense behind thick black-rimmed glasses.

  “Who are you?” said Billy, retreating a step or two.

  “That’s Dr. Libris!” said Walter.

  “Hello, Billy. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Xiang Libris. Welcome to my island. I hope you and your mother have been enjoying your stay at my cabin?”

  “It’s okay,” said Billy. “It could use a TV.”

  “But you had all those books,” said Dr. Libris, staring at Billy as if he were an interesting blob of bacteria on a microscope slide. “And, of course, you had my island, where you could enjoy all sorts of adventures.”

  “We didn’t break anything, sir,” said Walter.

  “I know everything you boys have done out here.” He gestured toward a nearby tree, where one of the miniature security cameras sat, blinking its tiny red light.

  “You were spying on us?” said Billy.

  “I wouldn’t call it spying. Let’s just say I was recording data for a very important scientific study.”

  “So what happened to the Junior Wizard?” asked Walter.

  “He’s gone. They’re all gone.” Dr. Libris pointed to the wire mesh dome suspended over their heads. “I deactivated the Theta Wave Receptor Grid.”

  “The what?” said Billy.

  “It’s all rather complicated. Even your mother would have difficulty comprehending the full scope of the mathematical theorems governing the operation of my invention.”

  “Try me.”

  “Very well.” Dr. Libris smiled at Billy as if he were an infant. “The brain’s theta waves operate in the borderland between the conscious and subconscious worlds. While in the theta state, your mind is capable of deep creative thought. An abundance of theta waves in a person’s brain wave pattern, such as evidenced by the remote EEG I was able to run on Billy’s brain—”

  “What?”

  “The pillow. In your bed. It’s lined with sensors.”

  So that’s why it felt so lumpy, thought Billy.

  “Billy, your EEG readout indicates that you have what we term a ‘magical mind.’ ”

  “He’s got a gift, right?” said Walter.

  “Oh, yes. Billy’s brain generates more theta waves than any subject I have ever measured. I believe this is why you were able to project the figments of your imagination well beyond the limits of the dome. I found the beanstalk reaching up into the clouds to be particularly impressive.”

  “My sister and I helped on that one,” said Walter.

  Dr. Libris ignored Walter. “Billy, I knew you had incredible imaginative powers the instant I saw your answers to my ink blot test.”

  “And once you had me up here,” said Billy, “you captured whatever pictures the books put in my brain with the tin ceilings or the metal mesh in the dome. You made my imagination come to life?”

  “Precisely. We needed a magical mind like yours for the Theta Project to reach its full potential. Other children can read things here on the island and the net will catch even their feeble theta waves. Only you, Billy, could send your literary imaginings clear across the lake.”

  “Why didn’t you just do it yourself?” demanded Billy.

  “I’m afraid we adults lose our capacity for imaginative flights of fancy as we age. That’s why you and your mind are such treasures, Billy. Treasures we will soon exploit to our mutual advantage. If you could so easily conjure up Hercules, why not an aircraft carrier? If you could build a time machine, why not a fleet of luxury automobiles that run on nothing but tap water? This is why I sent you that message in the bottle, Billy.”

  “You mean ‘On this island, you shall find great treasure’?”

  “Yes, Billy. Treasure. Because you and I are going to be rich. Very, very rich!”

  Billy’s brain felt scrambled.

  “Wait a second. What about my parents?”

  “Oh, they’re far too old to be of any practical use to us. Your father shows signs of minimal creativity and your mother is familiar with the mathematical theories of parallel universes, but—”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” said Billy, trying to block out the loud thumping noise coming from somewhere over the horizon. “Me and my stupid theta waves just put my mom and dad into a make-believe time machine and sent them fifteen years into the past.”

  “Yes,” said Dr. Libris, straining to be heard over the whump-whump-whumps. “A brilliantly plotted plan. Kudos on that.”

  “How do I get them back?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How do I bring my mom and dad back from the past?”

  Dr. Libris’s smile slid into a wolfish grin. “You don’t have to stay stuck with those two, Billy. Frankly, you could do much, much better than William and Kimberly Gillfoyle. Why, you could have Mary Poppins for your mother and King Arthur for your father. Better yet—Glinda the good witch and Atticus Finch. Choose the right books and your mother and father will be everything you ever wanted them to be.”

  “I don’t want perfect parents. I want mine. How do I get them back?”

  “Not sure,” Dr. Libris hollered as the throbbing noise grew closer. “Use your imagination.”

  “But I need the dome!”

  “Pardon?”

  “The dome! You need to turn it back on!”

  “Impossible. The neural net must remain down for routine maintenance while I fly off to meet with my investors.”

  Suddenly, the trees started swaying and scattering their leaves as a whirlwind swept across the clearing.

  Billy looked up.

  A sleek black helicopter with the words “Theta Project” painted on its sides descended into the field.

  Dr. Libris crouched down and dashed toward the passenger-side door.

  “But my mom and dad!” shouted Billy.

  Dr. Libris just waved, as if he couldn’t hear.

  “Turn the dome back on! Dr. Libris? Dr. Libris!”

  The scientist
hopped into the helicopter and pulled the door shut.

  The chopper lifted off and sailed away through a wide opening in the center of the dome—the dome that wasn’t catching Billy’s “magical” brain waves anymore.

  “This is bad,” muttered Billy. “Really bad.”

  Instead of losing one parent in a divorce, he’d lost both of them in a time warp.

  “We need to find the control booth. If Dr. Libris could turn the whole thing off, there has to be a way to turn it all back on.”

  “He popped out of the shadows over that way,” said Walter.

  “That cinder-block building behind the electrified fence! It had a satellite dish on the roof, remember?”

  “That’s the control center!” they said together.

  Billy ran.

  “Wait for me!” Walter ran after him.

  They followed the trail until they returned to the chain-link fence.

  Billy reached out with his hand.

  “Don’t!” shouted Walter.

  Billy closed his eyes and grabbed a fistful of wire.

  Nothing happened.

  “Dr. Libris must’ve shut off all the power,” he said. “Try the gate.”

  It swung open with an eerie creak.

  And even though they had both just seen the crazy professor fly away in a helicopter, Billy and Walter crept as quietly as they could up to what had to be the mad scientist’s secret lab.

  Billy flipped on his flashlight app and shone it through the building’s tinted windows.

  Inside, he saw banks of dead computer screens and video monitors. Not a single LED flickered on any console.

  “There must be a generator somewhere,” said Walter. “Maybe back on the mainland.”

  “That cable your dad’s company laid under the lake was probably the power line,” said Billy.

  “So the generator must be—”

  Billy motioned for Walter to be quiet.

  Somebody was coming.

  The two boys peered into the darkness.

  Billy saw a silhouette slinking through the shadows.

  It was someone, maybe a boy, carrying a fishing pole over his shoulder.

  Billy couldn’t believe his eyes.

  It was Tom Sawyer!

  “You’re still here?”

  “I reckon I is,” said Tom, coming into the clearing behind the building. “You boys find you any treasure?”

  “But the Junior Wizard disappeared,” Billy mumbled.

  “So I heard tell,” said Tom. “Me and Robin Hood was just talkin’ ’bout that.”

  “Robin’s here, too? How? The dome is off.”

  Walter nudged Billy. “I dreamt up the Junior Wizard. You imagined all the others. Maybe Dr. Libris was right. You have a magical mind!”

  Billy didn’t know what to think.

  “Don’t mean to interrupt your ponderin’, Billy,” said Tom. “But me and Robin was kind of curious—can you crack open a fresh book and read us up some fish?”

  “But there aren’t any fish—except prehistoric ones—in The Time Machine, and that’s the only book I brought with me tonight.”

  “So use your magical mind,” said Walter. “Just think about fish.”

  “We’d appreciate it considerable,” said Tom. “Haven’t had nary a nibble all night.”

  “Do it, Billy,” urged Walter.

  Billy sighed and closed his eyes.

  This is ridiculous, he thought.

  But he gave it a shot.

  He tried his best to think about fish instead of his mom and dad.

  After a while, a familiar Dr. Seuss rhyme ran through his brain: “One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish …”

  “By all the saints in Paradise!” Billy heard Robin Hood cry. “Come, Tom, and marvel upon these most magnificent fish! Why, one is red, the other blue! Ah-ha-ha-ha!”

  Tom winked at Billy. “Thank you kindly.”

  And off he dashed through the trees to help Robin Hood haul in their colorful catch.

  “Don’t you see?” Walter insisted as they hiked back to the meadow near the gate. “With you, it isn’t just the island or the books from the bookcase or even the dome!”

  “I don’t know if I—”

  Walter tossed up his arms. “Would you please, before your mom and dad are marooned forever on the space-time continuum, stop doubting yourself? You sound like me before I met you. Did I mention how fast I canoed across the lake tonight?”

  Billy smiled at Walter. Then he looked up, straight through the gaping hole in the middle of the wire mesh theta wave dome. If he tried this crazy thing, he’d be working without a net. Literally.

  Okay, he thought, it’s time to crank it up a notch. Because if I want a happy ending, I need to write it myself.

  Billy closed his eyes and concentrated.

  Until Walter nudged him again.

  “Ooh! I have an idea!”

  “What is it?”

  “When you bring your parents back, make sure you say that they’ll be all lovey-dovey forever—like we were going to do with the love potion. That way, they’ll never even think about splitting up!”

  “No,” said Billy. “I’m kind of glad the Junior Wizard disappeared. Maybe Mom and Dad have to do that part on their own, to choose to stick together. Maybe they get to write their own story, too. All I can do is try to bring them back with a couple good memories so they have a chance for a happier ending.”

  Walter nodded. “You’re right. It’s up to them.”

  “Okay,” Billy said when he’d finished composing his story in his head. “Stand back.”

  “Will there be another explosion?”

  “I hope not. But maybe we should hide over there so they don’t see us right away.”

  Billy and Walter ran to the edge of the forest and ducked behind some thick underbrush.

  “Billy?” Walter whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you add a sentence or two saying this vine I’m kneeling on isn’t poison ivy?”

  “No problem.” Billy cleared his throat and started narrating. “With a blinding flash of dazzling white light, the time machine zips forward to the present day and lands safely on the island in the middle of Lake Katrine.”

  Blindingly bright light filled the clearing.

  His mom and dad were back, sitting side by side on the driver seat of H. G. Wells’s time machine.

  “It worked!” said Walter.

  Billy kept narrating. “The instant they return to the present, however, the time machine and any poison ivy in the general vicinity disappears.”

  The sled-like contraption vanished! His parents fell on their butts. An empty pie pan rattled around on the ground.

  “Oh, man,” moaned Walter. “They ate the whole pie.”

  “Sorry,” said Billy before jumping back into his story. “The jolt of their landing makes William and Kimberly Gillfoyle forget how Walter Andrews tricked them into coming out to the island.”

  “That’s good,” said Walter. “Erase any questions we can’t answer.”

  Billy nodded. “They also forget all about their time traveling and the time machine and anything else that was totally weird. All that remains are the happy memories they gathered on their journey back into their shared past. They remember how it felt when they first fell in love.”

  “Ooh,” said Walter. “That last bit was good. Poetical.”

  “Thanks,” said Billy. “The end. The rest is up to them.”

  Billy’s mom and dad looked confused.

  “Where are we?” asked Billy’s dad.

  “I’m not sure,” said his mom.

  Billy’s dad stood up, dusted off the seat of his pants, and held out his hand to help Billy’s mom stand.

  “Another nice touch,” said Walter. “Very romantic.”

  “I didn’t write that bit,” said Billy. “Dad did.”

  “Billy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m really enjoying this story. I
t has heart, drama …”

  “Shhh.”

  Billy’s dad looked around, trying to get his bearings.

  “Huh,” he said. “I think we’re out on the island. In the middle of the lake.”

  “Impossible,” said his mom.

  “No, look.” He led her to a silvery smooth tree. “Remember? We carved our initials on this old beech.”

  Billy’s mom put her hand on the tree’s bark. “So how’d we end up on the island?”

  “Maybe we entered one of those parallel universes from your dissertation.”

  Billy’s mom smiled. “Have you actually been paying attention to what I’ve been doing with my life?”

  “Not as much as I should have, but yeah. You have a very beautiful brain, Dr. Gillfoyle.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  They were gazing dreamily at each other.

  “Billy?” said Walter. “I’m closing my eyes. They sound like they might start kissing and junk.”

  Billy smiled.

  Mission accomplished.

  “How dare you look so happy, Sir William!” cried an angry voice.

  Billy whipped around.

  The Sheriff of Nottingham was stalking through the forest with his dagger drawn. “Didst thou honestly think thou couldst be rid of me so easily?”

  Billy was too stunned to speak. He and Walter scrabbled out of the bushes.

  “Billy?” said his dad.

  “Walter?” said his mom.

  The sheriff hobbled out after them.

  “Who’s he?” asked Billy’s dad.

  “Methinks he is but a cowardly villain!” cried Robin Hood, swinging into the meadow on a vine.

  “You’re Robin Hood!” said Billy’s mom. “You were my favorite.”

  Robin Hood did his grand, hat-twirling bow as Maid Marian leapt out of the shadows, her broadsword at the ready.

  “You fools!” cried the sheriff. “The two of thee hath, once again, fallen into my trap.”

  “Nay!” said Marian. “It is thou who hast fallen into our trap!”

  Robin raised his bow and arrow. “All for one!”

  “And one for all!” The three musketeers and D’Artagnan charged into the moonlit field with their fencing foils swirling. Hercules and Tom Sawyer were right behind them.