The Time Bubble

by Jason Ayres

  Charlie offered little more than a grunt in return as he took his seat next to Josh.

  “Right, I guess we should make a start”, said Peter, taking out his copy of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. “Where did we get to?”

  Peter bemoaned the lack of sci-fi on the A Level syllabus. Brave New World was about as close as it got, so he always made sure it was the first book he did with his students each year. After that, the rest of the year tended to go downhill a bit.

  Even now, over a quarter of a century after he graduated, he wondered if perhaps he should have become a science teacher rather than an English teacher.

  Oh well, they had better get on with it.

  “Right then, page 132…” He felt like it was going to be a long afternoon.

  =============================

  Thankfully the rain had relented by the end of the day. Charlie tried to slip away quietly but Josh caught up with him by the school gates.

  “What’s up, mate?” he enquired.

  “You know what’s up”, replied Charlie.

  “Is it because Kaylee won’t go out with you?”

  “You know damn well that’s not what it is. It’s you lot taking the piss out of me all the time”.

  “I’m sorry mate – I was only joshing with you”. This was one of Josh’s favourite phrases and he used it whenever he could.

  “It’s not so much you, it’s Dan. And Lauren’s been dead off with me as well”.

  “You don’t want to worry about Dan – he’s a loser. You’ve got a lot more going for you than he has: a six inch smaller waist size for a start. There’s more chance of Oxford United winning the FA Cup than there is of him getting a shag”.

  Josh was doing his upmost to make light of the situation to cheer Charlie up and it seemed to be working.

  “Yes, you’re right”, said Charlie, his mood lightening. “Shall we go down J’s for a bite to eat? Mum’s not going to be at home tonight so she won’t be expecting me for tea”.

  “You twisted my arm – are you buying then? I spent all my dosh on the booze for the party”.

  “Come on then!” With Charlie smiling for the first time that day, they headed off towards town.

  J’s Diner was the latest addition to the town centre. In the last couple of years there had been a resurgence of interest in 1950s culture, and J’s reflected this. It was brightly lit with strip neon lighting, seats and tables shaped into the style of classic 1950s muscle cars, and a Wurlitzer jukebox playing the likes of Elvis, Little Richard and Chuck Berry. It captured the mood of the era perfectly.

  As soon as they opened the clear glass door Charlie spotted Kaylee and Lauren sitting at the closest table to the window. Hit by an awkward wave of teenage shyness he tried to look away, but it was too late. Josh was already making a beeline for their table.

  “Hey girls, fancy bumping into you here”, opened Josh, as he slid effortlessly into the seat next to Lauren. This left only one place for Charlie to go – right next to Kaylee. Before he could sit down, though, Lauren chimed in with “Well look who’s here – stalker boy!”

  “We didn’t know you were here – honest”, said Charlie as he nervously took his place next to Kaylee.

  “It’s OK, Charlie”, said Kaylee softly, turning to him. “It’s no big deal. You guys should lay off him”.

  “Fair enough”, said Lauren, “but I’m watching you”, giving Charlie a warning look.

  Charlie always felt a little uncomfortable around Lauren. She was so cool and streetwise, seemingly full of confidence and lightning fast with responses that could knock a man dead at ten paces. He could never be sure when she was joking and when she was being serious.

  It was no wonder she and Josh got along so well. He couldn’t see their recent encounter leading to anything serious, though. They were both just too busy enjoying themselves for that.

  Charlie didn’t think like they did. He just wanted to be with someone special and wasn’t interested in any of that ‘playing the field’ stuff. To be precise, he wanted to be with Kaylee, but with Lauren seemingly acting as a very effective guard dog it seemed unlikely he’d ever get near her, especially after last Saturday’s performance.

  Charlie’s musings were interrupted by Josh asking: “Who’s for milkshakes then?” Nobody was likely to refuse. J’s Diner made an amazing range of milkshakes which were all up on the wall on a huge painted canvas. There must have been at least 50 different varieties on offer.

  The four of them chose what they wanted and Josh got up to go to the self-service counter.

  “I’ll come up and help you”, offered Kaylee, leaving Charlie in the uncomfortable position of being alone with Lauren. He was pretty sure he was about to get the third degree, but his fears were unfounded.

  “Listen, Charlie. I don’t really think you’re a stalker. In fact Kaylee really likes you”.

  “Really?” he asked. Charlie hadn’t expected this from Lauren. He was so full of self-doubt after Saturday that he scarcely dared believe that Kaylee might still like him.

  “Yes, really. But you made a right fool of yourself on Saturday night. If you really wanted to blow your chances with her, you certainly went the right way about it”.

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not very good at this sort of thing. Josh seems to find it so easy”.

  “Yes, he does, and that’s one of the reasons I would far rather she ended up with someone like you than someone like him”.

  Charlie was momentarily taken aback by this. He hadn’t expected to hear her criticise Josh. He replied with “But, on Saturday, didn’t you and Josh…?” His words tailed off as he couldn’t bring himself to say it, but she saved his embarrassment by cutting him short.

  “Yes, we did – and that’s the whole point. People like me go with people like Josh. Kaylee’s different. She’s sensitive and I don’t want to see her messed about. You’d be good for her, but you can’t afford any more scenes like Saturday”.

  “What do you suggest, then?”

  “Just play it cool, take your time, and let things happen. Don’t try to force it”. Lauren looked up to see the others returning to the table. “And one final thing – if you break her heart, I’ll kill you”.

  Coming from Lauren, he could well believe it.

  Josh plonked a tray down on the table. “OK, here we go, guys: pineapple for Lauren, chocolate for Charlie, banana for Kaylee, and toffee for me”.

  “This is very generous of you, Josh”, said Kaylee.

  “No it isn’t. Charlie’s paying. I’m broke”, replied Josh.

  “Well then. Thank-you, Charlie”, said Kaylee. She looked at Charlie and smiled.

  ‘Peggy Sue’ was playing on the jukebox as Charlie sucked up his milkshake through the crazy swirly straws that J’s provided. He was starting to feel much better. Perhaps this would turn out to be a good day after all.

  =============================

  It wasn’t turning out to be a good day for everybody. Across town Peter was sitting in the waiting room in the Doctor’s surgery.

  He had been there over twenty minutes waiting for his appointment to be called. He had flicked unenthusiastically through the small stack of reading material available which consisted of back copies of Country Life and Homes and Gardens. Now he was eyeing up the various self-help leaflets alongside them on the table.

  “Are you drinking too much?”, said one of them. “Check your testicles”, said another.

  He didn’t want to depress himself any further by imagining any more problems so he decided to give the leaflets a miss. He always felt a little uneasy in surgery waiting rooms anyway, wondering what diseases other people who had handled the magazines and leaflets might have been carrying.

  A young woman sitting a couple of seats away from him had been coughing and sneezing away as well. She had made no effort to use a tissue or even put her hand over her mouth, and he could see some small globules from her nose had landed on some leaflets implo
ring people to eat more fruit and vegetables.

  Eventually he was called and he made his way down the short corridor to his doctor’s room. Since his cancer, he had to have regular tests and on this occasion his family doctor and friend for twenty years, Doctor Alan Dickinson, had some bad news for him.

  “What’s the score then, Alan?” he asked tentatively.

  “I’ll come straight to the point, Peter”, replied Alan, with a notable absence of his usual jovial manner. “We aren’t happy with the last lot of bloods you did”.

  “Is the cancer back?” he asked immediately, a feeling of impending doom spreading over him.

  “Now I don’t want you to panic. We found a lot of abnormal white cells in the latest tests. It does not necessarily mean that the cancer is back, but I am going to have to send you into hospital as soon as possible for some more tests. I’ve got an appointment for you next week”.

  Peter thought ahead. It was half-term next week so no one would need to know. He really did not like talking about it with anyone and, other than the headmaster, no one at school even knew of his illness.

  “OK. I’ll be there. What’s the prognosis, though? Just give it to me straight”.

  “I’ll be honest with you. It does look as if the leukaemia may have returned but I don’t want you to worry unduly. The survival rates are very good these days, and if it hasn’t developed too far you can be treated”. Alan was doing his best to reassure him.

  “But it’s not certain? I could die?” he asked.

  “Nothing’s certain. But things are getting better all the time. There are some revolutionary new treatments being trialled in the States that are showing amazing results. We should have them over here within a few years – by which time we may be able to cure you completely”. Alan was doing his best to sound upbeat.

  “But will it be in time to save me?” asked Peter.

  “You’re not at death’s door. Even with the treatments we have now, the five-year survival rates are excellent, so there’s a good chance you’ll be around when these treatments become available”.

  “How much chance is there? Can you put a number on it?”

  “It’s not a game of poker, Peter. I can‘t quote you odds. At least not until we know more. Go to the hospital next week, get assessed, and then we’ll reassess the situation. The appointment is on Wednesday”.

  “I guess that’s what I’ll have to do then. Thanks, Alan”.

  He walked out feeling somewhat deflated. Wednesday was nine days away and it seemed like a very long time.

  Chapter Three – 22nd October 2018 (5.00pm)

  It was after 5pm by the time the boys left the diner. The weather had improved dramatically, and they were able to enjoy a little early evening sunshine on the way home.

  There was a distinct chill in the air, though, as the nights drew in and leaves were blowing around everywhere in the breeze.

  Their route took them through the newly constructed tunnel under what was to become the new HS2 railway line. Although construction was at last underway, the project was not scheduled to be complete until 2026. The boys therefore found themselves walking through a tunnel above which no trains would run for at least another eight years.

  On the way home the topics of conversation had varied considerably, now turning to one of Josh’s favourite subjects, football.

  “You’re wasting your time with Oxford United, mate. They are never going to get out of League Two”, said Josh.

  “True, but they are still our nearest club – so we should support them”, replied Charlie.

  “They aren’t that near. It’s just as quick to get up the motorway to Birmingham. Quicker still when this railway’s finished”, said Josh, pointing up to the embankment as they approached the tunnel entrance.

  “I’m not supporting Aston Villa, mate, and that’s that. Give it up. I’d rather support Man Utd than them, and they’ve been rubbish this season. Besides, I hardly think HS2 is going to be wasting its time stopping here”.

  The banter continued as they entered the tunnel. It had only been open about a month and few people used it yet. Work was progressing on a road tunnel nearby, but that was a long way from completion. For now the main entry road to the estate still crossed the path of the new railway line, about 50 metres further along the track. But for the boys the tunnel represented a significant short cut.

  Today they were not the only ones using the tunnel. There was a middle-aged man walking about thirty yards ahead of them. They weren’t paying any real attention to him for they had no reason to. He was just a bloke walking along the same route as them and there was nothing unusual in that.

  However, on this occasion, Charlie just happened to look up when he noticed something very odd indeed.

  Right in the middle of the tunnel the man suddenly seemed to disappear and then a split second later reappear, continuing to walk on as if nothing had happened.

  “Did you see that?” gasped Charlie, astounded at what he’d just seen.

  “See what?” asked Josh, who obviously hadn’t or he would have said so.

  “That bloke – he just vanished”.

  “No he didn’t. Look - there he is!” exclaimed Josh, a strong tone of sarcasm in his voice.

  “Yes, you can see him now but honestly he just vanished for a second and then reappeared”.

  “Are you on drugs?” asked Josh, enjoying taking the piss as usual. “You’re having hallucinations”.

  “Look – just stop here a minute”. They were just a couple of yards short of where Charlie thought he had seen the man disappear. The man in question was now at the far end of the tunnel, passing by a couple of rough-looking youths who were spray-painting something on the wall at the exit from the tunnel.

  “Seriously – when that bloke got to about here he flickered out of existence for a second or two. I’m not on drugs and I’m not hallucinating. I definitely saw him disappear and then reappear”.

  “So what are you saying – if I step through here I’ll vanish?” said Josh with a scornful tone in his voice. He stepped forward and he did indeed vanish.

  “Josh!” exclaimed Charlie, alarmed. But as fast as he took in what was happening, Josh reappeared.

  “You see!” boasted Josh triumphantly! “Nothing happened”.

  “But it did!” exclaimed Charlie. “You disappeared just like the other bloke, but it seemed longer this time”.

  “I did not disappear”, said Josh. “You’re losing it big-style, mate. I think all this stuff with Kaylee’s gone to your head”.

  “I am telling you, when you walked forward just now, you disappeared for a couple of seconds”.

  “OK then”, said Josh. “You try it”.

  “Alright then, I will”. It was obviously the only way he was going to prove it to him. Charlie stepped forward and this time it was Josh’s turn to be surprised.

  “This is some sort of trick, Charlie. Where are you?” he said into the empty tunnel. Then Charlie promptly reappeared.

  “OK – I’m convinced!” he said. “You did disappear”!

  “Did I?” It was Charlie’s turn to be surprised. “It didn’t feel like I did. How long for?”

  “I’m not sure exactly – maybe about five seconds?” said Josh.

  “That’s interesting”, said Charlie with a pensive look on his face. “I’m pretty sure it was less than that the first two times. Maybe we should try it again?”

  “OK – well, I’ll use the stopwatch on my phone”, suggested Josh. He got his latest Android gadget out, found the stopwatch and said, “Right, I’m ready – let’s go”.

  Charlie stepped back through in the opposite direction this time, but nothing happened.

  “That’s odd”, said Josh.

  “I was going the opposite way before”, replied Charlie. “Maybe it only works in one direction. Let me come back again from this side. Are you ready?”

  “Ready”. Charlie stepped through and vanished.

 
; “10.5 seconds precisely”, stated Josh as Charlie reappeared. “I was starting to get worried you weren’t coming back”.

  “That’s the longest one yet. Let’s do it again. You go this time, and I’ll time it”.

  While he was waiting for Josh to reappear, Charlie looked up the tunnel towards where the two yobs were spray-painting. They were engrossed in their artwork and were not taking any notice of what Charlie and Josh were doing. After 21 seconds, Josh reappeared.

  “You know I’m beginning to see a pattern here. It’s doubling in length each time”, said Charlie. “Try it again and I bet it will take 42 seconds”.

  “Why don’t we both go through together this time?” suggested Josh.

  “If we do that, who’s going to set the timer?” asked Charlie.

  “Put the phone down on the floor, set the timer and then we’ll step through together and check it when we get back”.

  “What if someone nicks your phone while we’re gone?” asked Charlie, looking again towards the end of the tunnel, but the two graffiti artists had disappeared.

  “We are only going to be gone 42 seconds. No one is going to be able to get from the end of the tunnel, steal a phone and get away again in that time, are they?” There was no denying the logic of Josh’s argument.

  “That’s a fair point”, conceded Charlie. “OK then, here goes. Set the timer”.

  “Right - now we must step through together”.

  “Hold hands?” suggested Charlie.

  “Now you’re being gay”, said Josh, laughing. But he grabbed Charlie’s hand anyway and they stepped through.

  “Did anything happen?” asked Charlie. It hadn’t seemed as if anything had.

  “I’ll check the timer”, said Josh. “Hang on. It only says about eight seconds has passed, which is about how long ago I started it”.

  “Maybe only one person can step through at a time? It doesn’t work for two?” suggested Charlie.

  “I don’t know – how or why would that work?”