“So where was Dad in this situation?” Mym asks between bites.
“That’s the thing. We really don’t know. You and he just sort of left, I guess.”
“He left you the journal, though,” Francesca says. “Show her.”
I reach into my back pocket and pull out Dr. Quickly’s journal. Mym stops chewing when I lay it on the table. She swallows and sets her sandwich down. She traces the front cover of the book with her fingertips, but doesn’t open it.
“Wow. I’ve never known him to even show that to anyone other than me before, let alone give it to someone.”
Bob has been listening quietly until this point, but now leans in. “This Stenger person. What happened to him?”
“I don’t really know,” I say.
Blake interjects. “We had our friend Robbie tip off the cops about him. So we’re hoping they picked him up eventually.”
“That doesn’t seem very conclusive, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Bob replies.
“We aren’t the cops,” Blake says. “I’m not really sure what else we could do.”
Bob’s eyes linger on the chronometer on my wrist for a moment, but then he picks up his plate and stands up. “Yes. I suppose not.” He opens the screen door and goes back into the kitchen.
“We really are just trying to get back to 2009,” Francesca says. “That’s been our goal this entire time. We could really use some help though.”
“Things haven’t been going great,” I add.
Mym chews another bite of tuna melt and then replies, “I’m sure Cowboy Bob can help you out without too much trouble. We were just going to take a quick blink up to 1993 and back today, but we could probably talk him into going farther if you want. He’s kind of a push-over if you ask nice enough.”
“That balloon of his will go that far?” Blake says.
“Oh definitely, that is one of the best distance time machines ever. Not a lot of people know about it because he’s pretty private, but other than some of the transverse wormhole gates they come up with later, his is the best. The gates are always fixed points, too, so even though they can travel farther, the fact that his balloon is portable and actually flies makes it way more versatile.”
“What’s the farthest you’ve been?” Blake says.
“With Cowboy Bob? Or in general?”
“Either I guess.”
“Dad took us all the way back to the 1860s when I was a kid. He said it was part of my history lessons. We were in the crowd when Lincoln gave the Gettysburg Address.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s awesome.”
“Were you tempted to go find John Wilkes Booth and kick his ass?” Francesca says.
“No. I was only thirteen then, and dad was doing one of his ‘paradox-free’ trips. He tries not to mess with historical events at all. He was really intent on my education being thorough. It was mostly pretty great. But I had a hard time when I was young, because my parents put me in regular school sometimes, so that I could have that experience. I never got along very well with any of my history teachers. We argued a lot.”
“I guess they don’t get a lot of grade schoolers with firsthand knowledge of history,” I say.
“You’d be surprised how wrong textbooks can be, too. I’ve realized that people are happier thinking what they know is true. Telling them the actual truth doesn’t always improve things.”
Cowboy Bob returns with Connie and she snatches up our plates of crumbs. I notice he has his boots back on. “We can help you with the dishes,” Francesca offers.
“Nonsense, honey,” Connie replies. “You just sit and visit. I know you all didn’t come all this way to scrub pots and pans.”
Bob stays standing at the end of the table. “So what’s the plan?”
“They need to go to 2009,” Mym says.
Bob considers us. “You need to get there right now?”
“Is that an option?” Blake asks.
“Well, I was going to make some other stops. I could get us most of the way today, if you like. I’ll probably need to stop and recharge the batteries somewhere. I could probably get you there by tomorrow though.”
“Really?” Francesca says.
“That would be amazing!” Blake’s hands go to his head. “I can’t believe it. Thank you!”
“That’s awesome,” I say.
“We should take them to the meteor shower,” Mym adds.
“Yeah, we could do that.” Bob nods. “Which ones have I already taken you to?”
“We did a couple Leonids, and we did Haley’s Comet.”
“Okay. We could hit another Leonids on the way. They’re always good.”
Mym turns back to us. “The meteor showers at night here are amazing. The sky is so huge and dark. I like to watch the Space Shuttle go by a lot when I’m here. You can see it pretty easily on a clear night.”
“That’s really cool,” I say.
“When do you want to go?” Bob asks us.
I glance at the others. “Um. Whenever, I guess.”
“All right. I’ll tell you what. After lunch we’ll do a big move to maybe the late nineties or early two thousands, since the balloon is already set up. Then we can stop and relax. I’ll charge the batteries overnight, and we can go the rest of the way in the morning.”
“That is so great,” Blake says. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem,” Bob replies. “I’ll go finish prepping the balloon. Just come out to the field when you’re ready.” He gives Mym a nod and strides off around the side of the house for the barn.
“I can’t believe it.” Blake smiles. “We can be home tomorrow!” He stands up. “I’ll go get our shoes.”
“One of mine is by the barn,” I say.
As he disappears inside, Francesca turns to Mym. “Speaking of shoes, is there any chance you have any extra clothes I might be able to borrow? We have been wearing the same things for what I guess is years now, and I feel kind of gross.”
“Oh definitely.” Mym smiles. “My stuff is already packed up in the balloon, but once we get through the trip and stop for the night, you can look through what I’ve got and see what you like.”
“Oh thank you. That would be amazing.”
Mym looks to me. “Cowboy Bob could probably hook you guys up with some clothes, too, if you need them.”
“Okay. That would be cool. We’ve been having a lot of difficulties there. That reminds me. I want to ask you something. How do you get around with the anchors? We brought some with us, but then we realized we couldn’t use them because they have gravitites in them. How do we fix that?”
Mym tilts her head slightly. “Dad didn’t give you guys a DG?”
“What’s a DG?” Francesca says.
“It’s what we call the device. I guess it’s called a ‘degravitzer.’ We always thought that sounded cheesy, so we called them DGs.”
“No. We never got one of those,” I say. “Aren’t they really big? I saw some pictures in your dad’s journal and it looked really complicated.”
“Oh yeah, the ones in his lab are. Those are for doing lots of items simultaneously, or for really big items. Those work better and faster, but if you’re just doing anchors and stuff, the portable ones work okay. I have a spare one actually, I can loan it to you till you get home.”
“That would be fantastic,” I say.
“I wonder why he never told us about that?” Francesca says.
“We missed out on a lot of things, apparently,” I reply.
“How long did Dad train you for?”
“About a week, I guess.”
“Huh. Yeah, that’s not a very long time, considering . . . but don’t worry. Cowboy Bob is a pro. He can get you home okay.”
“How did he become a time traveler?” Francesca asks.
Mym smiles. “I’ll let him tell you that story. Come on. Let’s say bye to Connie.”
She picks up the pitcher of tea and heads for the kitchen. I grab the lemonade a
nd follow. As I get through the door, Mym grabs Connie from behind as she’s trying to wash dishes and gives her a hug. Connie pats Mym’s forearms and turns around.
“You all set to go now?” she asks.
“Yep. We’re going to show our new friends one of the meteor showers around 2000. Bob says they’re great then.”
“Well, Bobby would know.” Connie smiles. “You all have a good time.” She turns and extends her arms to us. “It was great to have your company.”
Francesca steps in for a hug. “Thank you for lunch, it was delicious.”
“Thank you,” I say, getting a hug also. “It was really great meeting you.”
“So . . . does this mean you won’t see Cowboy Bob again for . . . twelve years?” Francesca asks.
“Oh, no. I’m not worried about that. I know how you time travelers are. You might be cluttering up my kitchen again tomorrow for all I know.” She smiles at us. “Bobby always finds his way home before too long. And he’s never once missed my birthday. He’s a sweetheart like that.”
Francesca grins. “I’m glad he has you. I’m pretty jealous.”
“You just come back anytime you want, honey. There are lots of good times to be had out here.” She pats Francesca on both arms.
“Thank you.” Francesca smiles. “I’ll try.”
“Okay, now get going. I want to see that pretty balloon do some flying.”
She shoos us out the front door, where we find Blake returning from the barn with my other flip-flop. I tell him to keep them for himself and I snag our backpack from inside the door. Connie waves from the porch as we cross the barnyard through the pasture gate. The horse has migrated across the far side of the pasture, but she lifts her head and gives us a contemplative stare as we enter, before going back to her grazing.
Cowboy Bob is inside the gondola, adjusting the gas on the burner. Little flowers of flame shoot up with pops and spurts. The balloon is upright again and shifting gently in the light breeze.
“This is so cool,” Francesca says. “I’ve never been in a hot air balloon before.”
Me either.
“Um. I’m not super great with heights,” I say.
Bob smiles. “Don’t worry. The sky never hurt anybody. It’s hitting the ground that gets you. Go ahead and climb in. Levi is going to release us.”
I look past the burner and see the ranch hand on the far side of the balloon, near one of the iron rings. He doesn’t appear to have changed a bit. From his expression, you would think he was staring at a blank wall and not a massive, multicolored, flying time machine.
I climb over the wall of the oversized basket and drop inside. I take a firm grip on the metal frame of the burner assembly.
“Sorry about the lack of a door,” Bob says.
The interior of the gondola has been divided up. While the overall shape of the basket is a rectangle, two diagonal opposing corners have been made into storage areas. The remaining passenger space is made up of the two other corners and the space directly below the burner cans. There are four burners total, mounted to the frame above the gondola.
Once we’re all in, Cowboy Bob lights off the burners in earnest and I feel the balloon pop up and settle back down on the grass momentarily. Bob gives Levi a thumbs up and he begins unclipping the winch lines. Cowboy Bob reels the cables in as the balloon drifts slowly upwards. The moment we leave the ground is silent and smooth.
That wasn’t so bad.
Francesca grips the edge of the basket with both hands as she watches the pasture dropping away. The balloon rises fast, and in a matter of seconds, we can see over the barn to the front of the house. Connie waves to us from the porch and I pry one hand loose to wave back. Levi disappears into the barn.
We are still tethered to the ground, but the one remaining cable is long and thin and runs away toward the center of the pasture. As we rise, it rises with us. I lean forward and look down to watch, as the breeze pushes us over the anchor point for the line, and away from the house and barn. We traverse perhaps a hundred yards of pasture before we reach the end of the tether’s length.
“How high are we?” Blake asks.
“A little under a thousand feet,” Cowboy Bob replies.
Mym is in the opposite corner of the gondola, looking away from the pasture at prairie hills stretching to the south. I squeeze past Bob to join her.
“This is pretty awesome,” I say. I try to look casual, but I take a firm grip on the railing.
She glances at me, and smiles. “Yes. This is my favorite part of my visits. Sometimes we cut loose and drift for hours before we blink.”
“How do you get back?” I ask.
“I guess normal people drive,” she says. “Bob usually has some anchors from the ranch that he has set up beforehand for whatever time he wants to get back. You degravitize one and attach it to the anchor line and you’re ready to blink home. It’s pretty painless really.”
“Is that what he’s going to do this time?” I ask.
“I can’t yet,” Cowboy Bob says from behind me. “I don’t have any anchors set up from the ranch in 1999. We’re going to have to use the tether or just use local anchors.”
“What are local anchors?” I say.
“Usually other people’s involuntary contributions,” Mym says.
“They’re not always involuntary,” Bob says. “Well I suppose mostly they are, but what you do is this.” He leans down and picks up a metal ball with a ring sticking out the side that has been lying at the inside edge of the basket. “You take something like this and attach it to the end of your cable. You lower that down till it touches the ground. You make your move and you end up in that same spot at your target time just using the ground as your anchor.”
“And sometimes you get stuck in a gymnasium,” Mym says.
“You see what she’s like?” Bob gestures toward her. “You take her on adventures, and she likes to bring up your every little mishap.”
“What did you mess up?” I say.
“Nothing really. My end went fine. But it turned out that the empty field I dropped my anchor into, got developed into a middle school while I was gone, so when I arrived, my anchor cable got fused through the top of the gymnasium. It wasn’t a big deal.”
Mym laughs. “They just had a hard time figuring out why they had a stainless steel cable running through their foundation, and out onto their roof the next day.”
“Yeah.” Cowboy Bob scratches his beard. “In hindsight, I could have tried to let the wind push me away a bit, dropped another shorter anchor and zapped the other cable out of there, but it may not have worked. I just cut it loose and drifted away and then avoided the area for the next few years.”
“There weren’t any little kids in the gym at the time, were there?” I say.
“Oh no. Luckily I showed up during the summer. That kind of stuff is rare though. Most of these fields have been fields for a hundred years. Hopefully they will be for hundreds more.” Bob drifts back to the burners and lets off another burst. “You guys ready to see 1999?”
“Sounds good to me,” Blake says.
Cowboy Bob steps to the controls near the tether winch and dials in some specifics. The instrument cluster reminds me of an airplane, only with a lot more clocks involved.
Mym opens a trunk in one of the storage areas and hands each of us a wool blanket. “You might want these.”
“November 17th, here we come,” Cowboy Bob declares.
Francesca looks at me as she unfolds her blanket. “November? How cold is it going to be in Novem—”
The next moment, we’re in fading twilight and the night air sends a chill right through me.
“—ber,” Francesca finishes.
“Wow that’s brisk.” Blake shivers.
I promptly wrap myself in my blanket, and as Bob sends up another burst of flames into the balloon, I find myself stepping forward to take advantage of the radiant heat.
“Actually not bad out.” Bob shines a f
lashlight at the gauges. “Temp gauge is showing forty-one degrees. That’s pretty balmy for this time of year.”
Francesca clenches her blanket to her chest in silent argument. Mym is snuggled in a blanket also, but her eyes are happy. She looks at me, and smiles.
That smile again.
I lean out of the basket to look up at the sky. To the east, stars have already begun to appear. Cowboy Bob tugs on a line and the balloon sinks. He cranks at the tether winch and draws us back toward our anchor point. The breeze has shifted and it helps move us closer to the barn. He eases us into the pasture and we land with a gentle thump.
“Go ahead and get your things out before I collapse the top,” Bob says.
Mym moves to the storage areas and begins handing us suitcases and a couple of boxes while Blake vaults over the edge of the basket so we can relay the items out to him. I boost Francesca over the side, and after all the gear is moved, follow her over. Mym glides over the edge easily and slips down next to me.
“Here’s where we could use the horse,” I say, surveying the luggage.
“Hey. It’s not that bad,” Mym retorts.
“I’m just messing with you. I’m sure you left a couple of things at home.”
“At least I was smart enough to bring shoes.”
“Hmm. Touché.”
We carry the bags and suitcases to the long ranch hand building, while Cowboy Bob opens a cupboard that’s mounted to the outside wall of the barn. He pulls a handful of paper scraps from a coffee can and begins reading them.
I nudge Mym with my elbow as we walk. “What’s that about?”
“Oh. He’s checking his notes. He likes to leave himself messages so he knows what has changed since he was here last. It’s been a long time, so he probably has a lot of them from future versions of himself to read.”
“Huh,” I say. “That’s cool.”
Mym opens the door of the guest room closest to the house. I check the windows of the main house, but there’s no sign of Connie. A door slams behind me and Levi strides out of his room and across the barnyard to assist Bob with the balloon. He doesn’t look at us at all. The room Mym has opened is small, but tidy, with two beds in it. It contains a kitchenette and a bathroom. It doesn’t have a fireplace like Levi’s end of the building, but there’s an electric heater. She sets her bags down and turns it on.
In Times Like These: eBook Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 28
