The Jovian Legacy

by Lilla Nicholas-Holt

  Jack feels numb.

  What now? he wonders, feeling his heart start to race. He tells himself to calm down. He knows he has to think of something.

  Maybe I accidentally typed in sixteen hours instead of six. That’ll make it ten tonight when I’m supposed to return. He feels himself relaxing at the possibility, and decides to wait until then before freaking out.

  He realises that he hasn’t had anything to eat all day and, after the long walk up the hill, is feeling quite hungry. He decides to help himself to some food, waiting until no-one is in the kitchen then seizes the moment. He quietly opens the cupboard door and sees a few items: Edmonds Baking Powder in a tall round tin, a jar full of sultanas and a bag of salt. Below the cupboard is a tall narrow pullout drawer, the opening at the top and hinged at the bottom. In it sits a large sack of flour. Beside it in another pullout drawer is a large Hessian sack of potatoes.

  Jack spies the tomatoes ripening along the windowsill and thinks a tomato sandwich will do the trick for his now grumbling tummy. He finds some leftover bread that Marjorie has made that morning, and proceeds to make his sandwich. He tucks into the sandwich and finishes it in less than a minute. Though he still feels hungry, so has to make another one. He is unaware that Marjorie has walked into the kitchen at that moment.

  Poor Marjorie sees a knife slicing into a tomato all by itself and then sees the sliced tomatoes jump onto a piece of bread, the salt shaker fly through the air and sprinkle salt over the tomatoes, and then jump back to its original position on the shelf. She gasps in horror as she witnesses the top piece of bread fold itself on top of the bottom piece and the whole sandwich raise in the air by itself, a bite being taken out of the sandwich, then another, and another until it has all disappeared.

  Jack looks behind him, realising Marjorie is there, and the instant he sees her she sucks in her breath and lets out a scream that makes his toes curl. She brings the whole house down. She also gives Benjamin a terrible fright, who is in the next room playing. Jack hears his sudden wail.

  He thinks he’d better bugger off, and retreats to the bedroom that he’d woken up in that morning. The time is a little after three p.m. so has another seven hours to wait to see if he will be transported back to his Megan, and out of this sticky situation.

  Megan stayed by Jack’s side that day holding his hand, listening to his breathing. His eyes were focussed straight ahead, blinking in the normal manner, every five or six seconds. Megan was quite surprised at how many times a person blinked.

  Not something one would particularly dwell on.

  Someone from the research team brought her lunch, which she gladly accepted, though felt sad she couldn’t share it with Jack; she thought he must be getting hungry by now.

  Jack continued to stare straight ahead as if he were in a coma, though wide-awake. It was quite unnerving for Megan to see him like this. If he didn’t snap out of it within the next few hours, she determined, she would consult a medic. Jack had to get some sort of sustenance into him sooner or later.

  She solemnly reminisced about when they’d first met and how she’d fallen in love with him, how she was in turmoil over discovering he was her cousin, and then learning he wasn’t biologically related to her after all. The elation she’d felt when they knew they could eventually become husband and wife. She’d been so happy ever since.

  The unexpected ‘arrival’ of her twenty-four sisters all at once was mind-blowing, but she wouldn’t be without them now.

  After a moment Megan became saddened at the prospect of returning to Earth for their ‘mission’, having to leave everyone behind. She didn’t want to think about it so decided to concentrate on Jack; the only trouble being there was nothing else to do in that research laboratory except dwell on things.

  Jack sits in the room by himself, listening to the movements of the household. He is so glad he hadn’t grown up in this era; everything seems like such hard work. No electrical appliances to make life easy.

  And with families - this family - so large with young babies, he thinks, bringing back to mind the young Benjamin Dunlop.

  “That’s really scary!” he says to himself. It is as if Benjamin knows he is being thought about because he hears the now familiar sound of a crawling baby coming up the hall.

  Baby Benjamin pokes his little head around the corner of the doorway and chuckles with glee when he sees Jack sitting there on the bed. He giggles excitedly when he makes a beeline towards him, this time to Jack’s outstretched arms.

  I guess there’s no harm in cuddling him. Except they’ll probably wonder how he got himself up onto the bed. Oh, what the hell.

  Benjamin feels soft and warm and Jack can’t help but cuddle him. Benjamin snuggles deep into Jack’s chest, his tiny fist holding on tight to Jack’s shirt. It is as if he loves Jack like his own father. There certainly is a strong bond.

  “This is so so weird.” He pulls Benjamin off him and plonks him down at the top end of the bed. Jack sits at the other end, facing him. They sit there staring at each other. Something in little Benjamin’s eyes makes Jack feel quite strange, and it brings to mind the saying that a person’s eyes are the windows to their soul. Benjamin has a deep soul. It is almost like he can foresee that Jack is going to be his son one day. Jack observes his father in this young body, this little man who appears way beyond his years and isn’t yet a year old. Benjamin crawls up to Jack and snuggles into him again. Within a minute he has put his thumb in his mouth and is fast asleep.

  Although it is only a short time ago that he had eaten the two tomato sandwiches it feels to Jack like he hasn’t eaten for days, and begins to feel quite weak. He finds it hard to stay awake after such an exhausting day, and he too closes his eyes and falls asleep; father and son sleeping soundly together.

  Megan’s heart started to sink when she saw the time. Eleven hours had passed while she’d been at Jack’s side. He hardly ever went on one of his journeys for this long. It was usually only two or three hours at the most. His face was pale and Megan knew she had to do something. Jack had had nothing to eat or drink since yesterday. She couldn’t remove the device so there was only one option. She had to get the medics to put Jack on life support right there in that room. Right now.

  Megan got up and gave her boyfriend a kiss and went off to organise it.

  A team of medics screened off the area and gently lay Jack out on the comfortable wide gurney. Megan lay down beside him after the team had inserted the intravenous tube, cuddling him and listening to his heartbeat, until she too fell asleep.

  Jack is dreaming of a banquet when he is woken by the sound of baby noises. Benjamin is lying on his arm talking to himself. He’d had his sleep and now wants to play. Jack curiously feels much better too after feeling so weak the night before. He feels great in fact, and full of energy. He is not hungry anymore, which is strange, as he hasn’t eaten anything apart from the tomato sandwiches. Then realisation dawns on him that he is still here in the 1940s in his father’s farmhouse. The words, “You may alter the course of history” drums in his head, haunting him. He fears that he’ll never see his family again.

  He needs to use the bathroom so he gently lifts Benjamin off his arm. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and is about to stand up when he looks up to see the entire family standing in the bedroom looking at him, absolutely shocked.

  My God, they can see me! What the heck does that mean now?

  Benjamin’s mother quickly grabs her baby boy up in her arms and tells her husband to ring the police.

  “Please don’t. I’m not a bad man or paedophile or anything,” Jack blurts.

  “A pedda what? What the hell is that young man? And who do you think you are bedding yourself down in our house as you please? Are you a drunkard?” Mr Dunlop questions.

  “Please…let me explain. My name is Jack, Jack Dunlop. I’m your…er… relative,” he falters.

  Mr and Mrs Dunlop look at each other, stumped.

  “Arthur?” Jac
k hears Benjamin’s mother say. Mr Dunlop senior shakes his head at her and shrugs his shoulders.

  “Please let me explain,” Jack quickly repeats, wondering what in the world he is going to explain. He is merely biding his time so they don’t ring the police. He knows he’ll get thrown in the slammer for sure.

  “All right, we’ll give you a chance,” Arthur softens, “Come into the kitchen. Margaret, be a dear and make us a cuppa tea.”

  “Oh, I suppose so,” Margaret grumbles. “Don’t know why we should be giving him a tea party though.”

  Jack has a mug of tea shoved in front of him, hot tea splashing onto his hand as he goes to accept it gratefully.

  Man, my grandfather must’ve loved his mate heaps to have married this old dragon.

  Arthur Dunlop stares at him. “Well?”

  “Well…,” Jack replies taking a sip of his tea and putting it down slowly on the table. “As I said, my name is Jack Dunlop. I came up from the South Island looking for you.” He feels himself redden.

  “How on Earth did you come up from there? Shanks’s pony?” Arthur questions, glaring at him.

  “Well, that’ll explain the God awful clothes!” his wife chips in.

  “Margaret, that’s enough,” Arthur scolds his wife, his own cheeks flushing. It takes Jack by surprise; he didn’t think the old man had it in him.

  Looks like he’s a bit scared of her though.

  Margaret turns her back and grumbles away to herself.

  Jack is allowed to continue. “I came across on the Aramoana and then by train from Wellington. My…er… father gave me a some money and told me to find you. He has always wanted me to meet you, but didn’t get a chance to get us up here. He told me this just before he passed away.” Jack is on a roll, surprising himself.

  Arthur looks uncomfortable. “Oh, I’m… ah…sorry to hear that, Son,” he says.

  He called me ‘Son’, Jack says to himself, a little smile creeping across his face. Little does he know how close to the mark he is.

  “What was his name?” his grandfather quizzes, still staring at him.

  Jack tries desperately hard to remember the names of his father’s ancestors. He remembers looking at the family tree once or twice, that was folded up inside a huge family Bible which he used to lug out of the end cupboard to look through sometimes.

  “Samuel,” Jack answers when a name pops into his head. He’d seen a few Samuels in the family tree.

  Arthur looks towards the ceiling, squinting, thinking hard. “Ah yes, I believe I do have a cousin Samuel. Quite distant though,” he adds.

  Jack breathes a sigh of relief. Arthur puts his hand out and Jack and he shake hands. He has, in fact, never met his grandfather, as he’d died before Jack was born. All he remembers is looking at his grandparents’ wedding photo as a boy. Now he is shaking his hand. It feels very surreal to him indeed.

  Jack is served breakfast by Marjorie: fried free-range eggs on toast.

  Good old Kiwi breakfast, he thinks and smiles to himself.

  His nice thoughts are destroyed when he hears that scratchy voice again.

  “Well, you don’t think you’re going to have free board and lodgings, do you? You’ll have to earn your keep,” the old trout snarls. “Otherwise you can go to Halifax.”

  “Where?” Jack queries, looking to Arthur for some help. Arthur smiles and winks at him.

  “Don’t take any notice of her, she’s always growling about something,” he jokes.

  Margaret mutters a “humph” and stomps across the kitchen to go outside. Jack looks down at her feet and sees that she has the widest feet he’s ever seen.

  Great slabs. No wonder the floorboards are rickety.

  “Samuel,” Arthur repeats, his ‘distant cousin’s’ name. “Hang on a minute, I’ll just go and get something.

  After a few minutes of ratting around in the bedroom Arthur comes back into the kitchen and drops something down on the table with a thud. It is the family Bible, big enough to sink a ship, the same one that Jack had been thinking about. It is in perfect condition.

  “This was my father’s,” Arthur says. “It’ll go to Benjamin when I’m dead and gone.”

  Of course, Jack realises.

  Inside is the same family tree, folded up as Jack had remembered it. There are the Samuels all right; a favourite name amongst the Dunlop clan.

  “Now, tell me, which is your lineage,” Arthur asks. Jack looks at the family tree of five generations and picks the one that has a Samuel in it, in his generation.

  “There, that’s my father.” Jack points out. The only thing is, that Samuel doesn’t have any ‘Jacks’ as children. He does, however, have a John. As quick as a wink Jack points to the John and says that is him. He says his real name is John, but gets called Jack for short.

  He’ll know I’m lying for sure, he thinks, cringing.

  “Well, actually Jack is a version of John. It’s quite common for Johns to be called Jack,” Arthur confirms, believing everything Jack has told him.

  Better stop while I’m ahead.

  He wants to go through the family Bible again like he did as a boy. “Um….would it be okay if I had a quick squiz?” he asks cautiously.

  “Well, sure, Son,” Arthur replies, intrigued, passing him the large book.

  Jack opens the Bible to beautifully detailed illustrations etched in gold, pages so thin they are almost transparent. He knows exactly where his favourite illustrations are. He didn’t so much as read one word of the Bible as a boy, instead spending hours quietly looking at the pictures.

  Margaret marches in at that moment and, surprise, surprise, starts complaining again, saying something to Arthur about how the family Bible is out of bounds to their children and yet he lets a perfect stranger handle it.

  Jack’s grandparents then proceed to have a bickering match in the kitchen. He hasn’t heard two people bickering in a semi-whispering way before, like they are hissing at each other. He finds it quite amusing.

  “Well, how long do you plan on staying?” Margaret asks bluntly, giving up on the argument and turning her attention back to Jack. Jack hadn’t planned on staying at all. He wishes he could go home. Before he has a chance to answer, his grandmother speaks again.

  “There’s work to be done and you can chop the wood. You do know how to chop wood, don’t you?” she questions when she sees Jack’s surprise. “If you’ve come from the freezing South Island you’d know. That’s if you’re telling the truth of course,” she says, squinting suspiciously at him.

  Man, she is one sour cow!

  “Yes, Maam,” Jack fibs, trying not to show it, which proves difficult with Margaret’s cold eyes boring into him. In fact, he’s never chopped wood in his life apart from competing in a competion at a school gala. He’d got the axe stuck on his first swing.

  “Good!” she barks, “there’s a pile out the back of the washhouse. After you’ve finished that you can churn the butter for me.”

  Churn butter? Lady, haven’t you ever heard of a dairy? Jack thinks, cracking up.

  Chopping wood is one thing; he knows he is already going to be the laugh of the century. But churning butter? What is this, the Waltons?

  In his peripheral vision he observes that she is still glaring at him, so decides to retreat and go look for the axe.

  “I hope I get taken back home again before I have to churn the friggin’ butter,” he mutters to himself, his mind racing.

  Man, their lives must’ve been boring if they had to make butter all day. To think that we would get up around 9, maybe do some skiing before lunch and then have a barby with our mates, watch some videos until eleven and go to bed at midnight. And these guys would’ve spent most of their day churning butter!

  Jack resigns himself to the fact that he is stuck in this era for a while and that he’d better get used to it. He takes the axe from the two nails holding it up on the wall, and prepares himself.

  Megan woke up in the research laboratory. At firs
t she wondered where she was and struggled to get her bearings, until she realised she was still in Jack’s office, lying beside him on the gurney. Her boyfriend was still in his semi-conscious state, awake but staring straight at the ceiling. Megan knew he was well and truly stuck somewhere in his virtual reality world.

  She swung her legs off the bed to go and freshen up after a surprisingly restful night’s sleep. When she returned a breakfast trolley was waiting for her. Feeling famished, she sat down to eat.

  A medic approached to her. “You may as well go home to your family Miss McGlew, there’s nothing more you can do here. We’ll take care of Jack and will let you know as soon as he wakes.”

  “Oh, okay,” she reluctantly agreed. “As soon as he wakes?”

  “Yes, of course,” the medic assured her.

  Megan dutifully drove back home. I wish there was something I could do. I want to go into his world and rescue him, and pull him back to reality.

  She felt helpless, frustrated, angry, and most of all, a deep-seated fear that her beloved boyfriend may never return.

  She began to feel annoyed. “If he comes back, I’m going to kill him! That’ll teach him to meddle with his computer. Well he might’ve changed the course of bloody history alright!”

  Then she began to weep, stopping the car in the driveway as she couldn’t see through her tears. She turned the key off, buried her head in her hands and sobbed her heart out. After a few minutes she heard people running towards her on the pebble driveway. Her door was opened by Ben, who had, along with Nancy, a worried look on his face, expecting the worst kind of news. The girls started to mill around the car as well, with Eshe climbing inside and throwing her arms around her big sister. Megan pulled herself together, giving Eshe a quick hug.

  “I’m okay, don’t worry, Jack’s okay too. He’s at work,” she quickly explained. She saw the relief on everyone’s faces.

  “Well, what’s going on then?” Ben asked, wondering why she was so upset if Jack was fine.

  “Jack is at work….but he’s not there working. He’s on a virtual reality journey. He’s been on it for over twenty-four hours now,” she said, pausing. “I think he’s stuck in a time slot.”