by Gary Hoover
He had the brief – crazy – idea that he had some mental connection with the ant. He imagined the ant turning to the left . . . and . . .
. . . The ant did start moving to the left!
Then Jeff imagined it moving the other way. . .
. . .And . . .
It continued going the way it had been going.
But THEN . . .
. . . It stopped and turned the direction Jeff had been imagining!
Wild! Jeff thought to himself. He glanced at Baldwin who didn’t seem to be paying any attention.
He looked back at the ant, and willed it to do a back flip.
. . .
. . .
. . .
It didn’t.
It pretty much just kept walking the way it had been.
Jeff leaned back and smiled at his own silliness.
“Uh oh,” Baldwin tensed noticeably.
“What’s wrong?” Jeff asked.
“Here comes Magnus Duanan. He’s such a jerk. He‘s the one with the blue shirt.”
Jeff glanced over to where Baldwin was indicating with his eyes. He saw two big kids - probably about his age. They were walking and tossing a glowing blue ball back and forth. The ball looked like it was made from some sort of energy field, and they were each wearing special gloves.
“Do you want to go?” Jeff asked.
Baldwin shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.”
Jeff saw Magnus say something to his friend, and then he pointed in their direction.
Jeff had a bad feeling.
It seemed that jerks were an unfortunate, universal fact of life. The same little voice that told Jeff he could trust Baldwin and his family was telling him just the opposite about these two.
The thuglings worked their way casually toward Jeff and Baldwin. They continued throwing the ball as if they were just playing catch, but Jeff was sure they were intentionally trying to get closer to Baldwin.
“Hey, there’s Winfred,” Magnus said as if he had just noticed him. He was intentionally speaking loudly enough that Jeff and Baldwin could hear him as he continued to casually toss the ball. He had an expression - an almost comically exaggerated leer - that Jeff might have found amusing . . . if it wasn’t being worn by someone who might be kicking his ass in the next few moments. “I’m surprised he’s not helping his father on some project to help Doclotnuryians wipe their back-ends or something.”
Baldwin tensed. Jeff could see the anger rising in his face, but he clearly wouldn’t have a chance against these two goons if things got physical.
Jeff was getting nervous himself.
Even though he didn’t know these two, he knew their type. They were the type who could look at a nest of freshly hatched birds, see their beaks open and close as they teetered awkwardly - spreading their wings for the first time - and think: “I wonder what kind of sound it would make if I hit them with a rock?”
“Hey Winfred! Why don’t you go live in Doclotnury if you like them so much?”
Jeff could see the internal battle Baldwin was fighting. Part of him wanted to go punch Magnus, but he was being held back by the part of him that didn’t want to get pummeled into a mushy, bloody mess.
“Yeah,” the other goon joined in. He was tucking his special glove into his belt - apparently getting ready in case Baldwin decided to play. “Why don’t you move to Doclotnury if you like it so much?”
“Your father could probably get a job cleaning toilets or something,” Magnus added.
That insult did it.
Baldwin’s brain was no longer in charge, and he jumped up. Jeff grabbed his arm, but he jerked it away. He charged toward Magnus, but before he could get to him, Magnus’ friend – goon 2 - got him from the side.
Goon 2 put Baldwin in a head-lock. Baldwin struggled, but he was no match for the larger, stronger boy. He squirmed and twisted, but the other boy’s grip just got tighter. Baldwin’s feet were kicking – at times both feet lifted off the ground simultaneously leaving him dangling by his neck. A few curious onlookers began to gawk, but Jeff didn’t see any adults or anyone else who seemed willing to get involved.
Jeff saw Magnus grinning, and he got a sick feeling in his stomach. When it was clear Magnus intended to punch the captive Baldwin, Jeff got to his feet: “NO!!”
The three looked at Jeff.
Magnus turned to face him.
Be confident, be confident, be confident. Jeff told himself. He looked Magnus right in the eye. But the sharp angle at which he had to tilt his head to accomplish that wasn’t making him nearly as confident as he was hoping to be.
Magnus grinned . . . a stupid, toothy grin. The two faced each other for what seemed a very long time, but Jeff had found his perception of time was often skewed in situations like this. Out of the corners of his eyes, Jeff could see a small crowd gathering now.
Without any warning, Magnus punched . . . but somehow Jeff saw it coming. He was so focused, that it almost seemed like the thug was moving in slow motion. He caught Magnus’ right hand with his left, and, for a brief moment, the two of them looked down at the joined hands in equal surprise.
Then Jeff THREW the hand down with as much force as he could manage, and Magnus teetered off balance for a moment. As he teetered, Jeff grabbed two solid handfuls of Magnus’ shirt. He jerked Magnus toward him, and then pushed him back just as quickly, releasing his hold on the shirt at just the right moment to send Magnus flying.
Magnus went back so fast and with so much force that his butt was leading the way, and he had had no hope of getting his feet under him. He stumbled and fell . . . hard on his ass about ten feet from Jeff.
For a brief moment, Jeff felt 100 eyes on him, then he put his attention back to the only two that really mattered at the moment. Magnus looked at him from the ground with a mix of what looked like surprise and . . . amazingly, fear.
Magnus got shakily to his feet, keeping his eyes on Jeff, but not getting any closer. He glanced at his friend who dropped his hold on Baldwin as if by wordless command, and the two of them walked away - calmly, but awkwardly.
Baldwin looked at Jeff with an expression of complete gratitude and awe. “Wow! How’d you do that?”
Jeff looked at his hands. “I don’t know. I guess it was adrenaline . . . maybe I took him by surprise . . . plus a lot of luck.”
“Let’s just try to avoid any more adventures today.” He smiled. “I don’t think we could get that lucky twice in the same day.”
Chapter 20:
Jeff decided it was time to come clean.
He fidgeted nervously and pushed his food around on his plate.
He felt he could trust these people. He wasn’t sure where it would go from here, but he was hoping maybe they could help him find his father.
Artimus Winfred - though Jeff never would have guessed based on his home-life - was a very important person in this strange place.
The thing that seemed most difficult to Jeff was raising the subject. He had been lying for the past day, and it was a little awkward to admit his deception to this family who had been so kind to him.
He tried to make eye contact with Artimus, but it seemed that every time he tried, Artimus was looking somewhere else.
Jeff fumbled with a bowl and nearly dropped it. He was tense and nervous and his hands felt a little shaky.
Again he looked at Artimus and this time Artimus met his look. Artimus’ eyebrows lifted inquisitively.
. . . And . . . Jeff quickly looked down at his plate.
There were several more minutes of awkward silence and then Artimus spoke: “So, Jeff, I ran your retina through the computer and it didn’t match anyone.”
Artimus paused, took a bite of food and allowed that to sink in.
The perfect opening, Jeff thought. He opened his mouth to speak . . .
. . . And nothing came out.
Artimus continued: “Now, as you may know, we have pretty good record keeping, and everyon
e who is born is registered, so it’s very unusual that you wouldn’t come up.”
His face turned a bit more serious than Jeff had seen up to this point. He looked Jeff directly in the eye. “I don’t want to accuse you of anything, but is it possible you know more than you’re telling us?”
Jeff was nearly quivering now, but he just couldn’t find the words. He tried to imagine how to even begin to explain . . .
Artimus continued, this time in a slightly quieter, subdued voice: “If you’re a Doclotnuryian, you should know you’re among friends.” His face became inquisitive . . . almost hopeful.
Jeff’s face flushed. He decided to just get his mouth moving and see what came out. “Ummmm . . . I’m really sorry, but I haven’t been telling the complete truth. I didn’t really want to deceive you . . . it’s just . . . I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
He looked around the table at all three faces. He felt terribly guilty . . . but also very relieved that he had gotten past the part he had been most dreading and would, hopefully, soon be completely unburdened.
The table was absolutely silent. The three were listening intently to every word, and now that Jeff had gotten this far, he ran into another mental wall. How could he explain it?
“Uhhhh . . . this is going to sound crazy . . .” As Jeff imagined his next words, they really did seem crazy. Will they buy this at all?
“I . . . uh. . . I . . . I’m not from here . . . I’m from a different place.” Jeff decided that a phrase like ‘alternate dimension’ might lose them. He decided to start from the beginning and ease into it.
“My father was a scientist, and he . . . ‘disappeared’ . . . about a year ago. The police assumed he had met with foul play and was probably dead.” Jeff was getting a little choked up. “I never believed that . . . I knew I was probably thinking with my heart instead of my head, but I felt like he was still alive . . . somewhere.”
The three were listening to him intently. He almost wished someone would jump in with a question or something. He could feel his mouth going dry, and he was starting to feel a little uncomfortable being the complete center of attention.
“Anyway, yesterday I was in his office, and I found this really weird . . . thing. It had an opening that seemed to . . .” He paused before deciding to just charge ahead. “It seemed to lead to another world.”
He paused again to read the faces of his audience. They were paying absolute attention to him, but he couldn’t tell if they believed him or not. There were no expressions of either shock or disbelief at his last pronouncement, but he couldn’t tell if that meant they did believe him . . . or just thought it was so stupid it didn’t even justify a response.
“I dropped a rope through this . . . portal . . . and climbed down. It was . . . like a hole in the sky . . . over the forest. That’s how I ended up there.”
Well. That was it.
Jeff had said it.
He couldn’t tell if his hosts believed him or not. They seemed to be at least considering it. The four of them sat in silence for a few moments, and the longer the silence went, the more uncomfortable Jeff became.
Finally, Artimus broke the silence: “So why did you tell us you couldn’t remember anything?”
“I’m REALLY sorry about that. I just thought it would be best . . . until I knew more about this place. I didn’t think anybody would believe me if I told the truth.”
Artimus nodded. He seemed to believe him.
There was another long silent moment.
“So, you’re looking for your father,” Artimus said. “Is there any way we can help you? What’s his name?”
Jeff felt a huge sense of relief wash over him. It seemed Artimus believed him. “His name is Jeffrey Browning . . . Dr. Jeffrey Browning.”
Artimus seemed to be thinking. “Hmmm, I don’t know anybody who goes by that name, but that gives us something to start with. I can run that through the computer. I certainly haven’t heard of anybody falling out of the sky.” He thought a bit longer but seemed to be drawing a blank. “Do you have any photos?”
Jeff shook his head. He never carried photos . . . Wait!
Jeff remembered the locket and fished around in his shirt. As he pulled it out, he saw Artimus’ fork stop in mid-air. His eyes shot to the locket and his mouth hung open in what Jeff interpreted as a shocked gape that lasted a second or two. Artimus looked pointedly at Nahima who seemed confused and then Artimus’ eyes went back to the locket.
Jeff pulled the chain over his head, opened the locket and held it out to Artimus, but Artimus didn’t reach for it.
Jeff began to get a little nervous. Artimus seemed to be acting very strangely. He was staring fixatedly at the locket, but not moving. Finally, after 10 seconds, he began to reach, slowly, slowly for the locket. Jeff thought it looked like his hand was trembling.
As he touched the locket, he looked at Nahima again, but she didn’t seem to know what to do or say.
Artimus held the locket, but kept it at arm’s length. He looked at the photo of Jeff’s father then up at Jeff, then back to the photo. His face was very hard to read. He seemed nervous . . . or . . . something.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Artimus said somewhat abruptly. “I need to talk to Nahima for a moment.”
He got up, and walked briskly out of the room with Nahima close behind.
Baldwin shrugged and went back to his food.
From the other room, Jeff could hear the conversation. They seemed to be talking in forceful whispers, but the acoustics and volume of their speaking carried their voices clearly into the kitchen.
“What’s going on? Did someone put him up to this?” Artimus asked.
“I don’t know.” Nahima responded
“Who would do something like this? Is Jeff part of it, or is someone just using him.”
Jeff flushed. “This is a little embarrassing.”
Baldwin’s cheeks were stuffed with food. He looked at Jeff silently but quizzically. He gulped heavily and said: “What are you talking about?”
“Them.” He looked in the direction of Artimus and Nahima’s voices. “The way they’re talking about me.”
Baldwin still seemed confused. “Are you sure they’re talking about you?”
“Well their voices are carrying fairly clearly.”
Baldwin gave him a strange look. “I can’t hear anything.”
He shrugged and went back to his food.
“Do you think he’s just a run-of-the-mill con-artist?” Artimus asked. “Maybe it’s just a scam to get some money.”
“Dad,” Nahima said. “I trust him.”
There was a long, silent moment before Artimus responded.
“You do?”
“Yes dad, I do.”
“Well you know that means a lot to me.”
“I feel fairly strongly about it.”
There was another long pause before Artimus spoke again. “Well that changes things. . . I’m still skeptical, but maybe I should give him a chance.”
Chapter 21:
It took several minutes after the conversation before Artimus and Nahima came back. Jeff was getting more and more nervous. It was clear that they had doubts about his story, but, he wasn’t supposed to know that . . . am I? As far as he knew, they thought their conversation was private. Baldwin didn’t seem to hear it. Maybe it’s just something about where I’m sitting.
Artimus and Nahima took their seats, and Jeff noticed Artimus was holding Jeff’s baseball bat.
“I’m sorry,” Artimus said with a forced smile as he took his seat. He ate a couple bites and tried to act casual, but he was clearly not as calm as he tried to appear. “Tell me Jeff,” he reached down and lifted the bat. “What is this?”
Jeff realized this was a test and he took the bat from Artimus. “This? This is a baseball bat.”
Artimus nodded and looked intently at Jeff. “Tell me about . . . baseball.”
“Well, sometime in the 1800’s . . . in my world, we a
re in the year 2008, so we’re talking about maybe 150 years ago, I’m not clear on the details . . . but anyway in the 1800’s a guy named Abner Doubleday, created a game called baseball. . . I’m not sure of the details, and there may have been more people involved . . . but he seems to get the credit.
“To play, you have a large field called a baseball diamond. It’s called a diamond because the bases are laid out in a diamond.” Jeff used his hands to show the approximate lay-out of a baseball field as he spoke. “There are four bases . . . if you count home plate. The bases are 90 feet apart. Home plate is here, at the point of the diamond, and the foul lines run out through 1st and 3rd bases here and here. 2nd base is between 1st and 3rd bases here. The area defined by the bases is called the ‘infield’, this area out here. . .” He swept his hand across his imaginary outfield. “Is the ‘outfield’. You have four ‘infielders’ - first baseman, second baseman, shortstop and third baseman. In the outfield you have a right fielder, center fielder and left fielder.
“The pitcher is on the pitcher’s mound, here, in the center of the diamond, and then you have the catcher behind home-plate.”
Jeff looked up for a moment to read faces. He was sure none of them were really following what he was saying, but they were paying attention.
“The visiting team bats first, so the home-team is in the field to start the game. When they get to the bottom of the inning, they’ll switch places and all the people who were in the field will come in to bat . . . of course in the American League they’ll have a designated hitter bat for the pitcher . . . I never was a fan of that, but what are you going to do?
“The pitcher has a small, white ball with red stitching about this big.” Jeff illustrated the size of a baseball. “He throws it and tries to get it past the batter who waits and swings one of these baseball bats and tries to hit the ball.” Jeff lifted the bat to illustrate and then decided to take it a step farther. He stood up, got a good grip on the bat, took a batting stance, and, after making sure he had plenty of room, began taking some practice swings.
