Thomas said, “Abigail is not dead, but she soon will be—along with your sister. You see, I tried to bring Trisha to you, but I failed, and we ended up at the hospital in England where you were working. Trisha is too weak now to make the journey here, so you will have to go there.”
Brittany said, “How did Trisha end up there?”
Thomas said, “Let’s not worry about blaming anyone right now.”
“But, Thomas, I don’t have any medicine or supplies.”
Chad ran over to the backpacks and pulled the other jar halfway out.
Brittany looked at Chad. “Of course! I will try that. Professor, can I take a bunch of syringes filled with the red gas? With the gas and the healing drool, I think I can help.”
Professor Mend said, “I wish you could, Brittany, but the minute you leave this place and travel to England, the gas will have dissipated, and you will end up with a bunch of empty syringes.”
Chris said, “Why don’t we fill a bunch of the syringes with the giant’s drool, and she can give the patients a shot? It has to be better than drinking the stuff.”
The professor did not know if the gel would even be able to make it through the time travel, but he saw no harm in trying.
They all dropped what they were doing to fill the syringes. In less than twenty minutes, Brittany had all the syringes that the professor could spare filled and ready to go.
Jon asked his sister, “Do you know how to give a shot, Brittany?”
“No! But I’ll try to find a nurse.”
Thomas said, “Brittany, follow me. We must hurry.”
She quickly gave her brothers hugs. She was getting worn out traveling to her siblings back and forth and trying to deal with their black plague.
Jon wanted to come. “Chris and I have already been exposed. We need to help Trisha.”
Thomas said, “The opening into that time and place is too small. As it is, Brittany will have to let go of her backpacks, or she will not fit through.” Thomas was starting to doubt his abilities as a travel guide anyway.
All the transporters were too far from the village to take the three of them back to Bat Cave. But Bihydrant, Quill, and Kaver had the sled ready, so off they went.
This ride was just as wild as the first one, and twelve-year-old Brittany hung on tight to Chad and the backpacks. The scenery was beautiful, and the Bundlebobs were able to maneuver around the trees without hitting any of them. The fruit trees were weird because there was snow covering everything, and it looked like they held large eight-inch orange dates. There were trees that looked like weeping willows, but they looked like giant green beans hanging down, scraping the ground. The black wax globes that hung from trees were glowing. The larger treetops had different-colored snow. The colors were fresh, as if they had just been created. Brittany was used to seeing things with a slight cast of darkness from the pollution in Boston. Nothing you would notice when living there, but now the colors were jumping at her, demanding her attention.
In all too short of a time, they were in front of Bat Cave.
“You don’t have to go any further.” Brittany gave each of the Bundlebobs a quick hug, while Thomas ran past her into the cave. Brittany had a hard time carrying the two backpacks and Chad, but she did not have far to go—she hoped. As they moved away from the entrance, it grew darker. Brittany got out the flashlight that the professor had given to her. He had said to use it sparingly, but this seemed like a good time. They went deeper into the cave, and for a minute, Brittany wondered if Thomas had gotten some bad information. Thomas began to wonder himself. Brittany’s flashlight was fading.
The rat stopped at a small opening in the floor of the cave. “Chad, you go first.”
Chad was not scared of anything, so he jumped into the hole and disappeared. Brittany put the backpacks down, intending to ask Thomas how she would get the bags to travel with her. She was sucked through the hole, and Thomas put her bags into the hole behind her.
Thomas softly said, “I hope they all end up together. I hadn’t exactly gotten Trisha to the right place, but I had assurance from a close family friend that this was the way for Brittany and Chad to go.” He looked down the hole and saw nothing but blackness.
CHAPTER 35
Chris wanted to keep busy and keep his mind off his sisters. He did not have any idea what kind of hell his sisters were going through. It seemed like Brittany and Trisha had ended up with the worst adventures. He wanted everything to be all right. If he didn’t put his idle mind to work, he would worry himself to death about Trisha and Brittany.
Brittany could hopefully help Trisha with the horrible disease. She did not exactly help her brother, Jon. Professor Mend had extracted the plague out of him, but with the help of the syringes filled with the giant Bundlebobs’ drool, she prayed she could pull this off. Maybe Trisha did not have the bubonic plague. What does a rat know about such things? she thought. Brittany liked Thomas, and he would not lie, but this was way over his head.
Meanwhile, Chris asked Tompack and Professor Mend to help make the freezer. Tompack had never attempted anything this complex, but he had built several small gadgets. He eagerly showed Chris all his prototypes.
Tompack had made a pencil that had a lid with a sharpener in it. The pencil, much too thick for Chris’s fingers, was perfect for a Bundlebob’s. He had invented hard plastic pliers to remove broken light bulbs. They did not last long, but since they were all plastic, no one would be shocked.
Tompack had electrical currents running through his body, but the other Bundlebobs could get severely injured or die from shock. Tompack was born with the number five and a half. He was the only one, a fluke of nature. Bundlebobs only came in whole numbers. The day the Bundlebobs discovered Tompack was five and a half, they also discovered he had electrical powers that no other Bundlebobs had. Not that many light bulbs broke, but Tompack thought every Bundlebob should have the pliers just in case.
He had invented enormous nail clippers to make mealtime easier and quicker. Unfortunately, he discovered that most Bundlebobs would rather break off their toenails. He had also made several hundred copper blankets. Packaged smaller than an average man’s wallet, they opened to the size of a regular blanket, just super thin.
Chris said, “I used a blanket sort of like this when I was on a camping trip, but it was silver. It was freezing outside, and no one brought anything warm. Our scout leader gave these little packets out, and they kept us warm. Except for when a pen I had in my pocket ripped a huge tear in it and no one would share their blanket.”
Chris and Tompack worked all day. Tompack was a great asset. He even used his copper blankets to insulate the freezer. It sat in the corner of Professor Mend’s lab. About ten feet by ten feet, it had a huge door with a double-paned window. Professor Mend was highly intelligent, and could have built the freezer with his eyes closed, but he let Chris be in charge. He just guided Chris and Tompack when they ran into trouble. Now, the freezer was almost finished. Chris wanted to keep working and secure the shelves so the glass jars would not fall and break, releasing the viruses.
Professor Mend and Tompack left just as Bihydrant, Quill, and Kaver came into the lab.
Bihydrant asked, “Can we help?”
Chris gave Bihydrant a screwdriver and said, “You can tighten the door handle.”
Kaver said, “Aren’t you finished? Let’s go throw the ball around.”
Chris’s lacrosse bag sat by the freezer door. Bihydrant went to the bag and pulled everything out. He picked out one lacrosse stick and threw one of them to Kaver.
Thomas jumped up on the lacrosse helmet. “Do I smell muffins?” He looked in the lacrosse bag and saw the other half of the crumbs that Chris had promised him. He had almost forgotten those.
Kaver and Bihydrant tossed the ball back and forth. After one long toss, Bihydrant backed into the freezer door, and the door slammed shut.
Bihydrant ran and opened the door. Chris sighed. “Guys, go throw the
ball outside. I’ll be out when I get done.”
I sound more like my mother than an eleven-year-old, Chris thought. He took back one of his lacrosse sticks and used it to prop the door open. He felt cold working in the freezer. He used to love the cold, but since he had nearly frozen to death under the ice, he could not handle it anymore. Chris rubbed his temples and the palms of his hands. He remembered going under the ice, but waking up with a deep tingling sensation in his temples and palms. He did not want to know the reason he had been dressed only in his boxers on a makeshift table with Bihydrant standing over him with his green fur singed.
The three Bundlebobs went outside with the ball, and Chris kept working on the shelves. He was proud of himself. The freezer had turned out better than he expected. He had outdone himself.
In the lacrosse bag, Thomas busily ate his reward. The crumbs were stale and dry—crunchy, the way he liked it. The lacrosse bag started inching its way toward the freezer door. Thomas had no idea that he was eating with so much enthusiasm that the bag moved the lacrosse stick out of the way and the door slammed shut on Chris, inside.
Chris ran over to open the door, but the handle fell off in his hand. “Bihydrant was supposed to tighten that.” Chris put a screwdriver into the hole where the handle had been—no luck. He tried several more things, but none of them worked.
Chris ended up pounding on the freezer window with his fist and kicking the door repeatedly. On the last kick, he let out a yell. He knew he had broken his toe. It felt exactly like when he had broken it in elementary school.
Thomas, having finished his meal, lay curled up in the lacrosse bag, fast asleep. He had no idea that Chris was now locked in the freezer.
Chris sat down against the back wall, wrapping his arms around his legs. He told himself that the situation might not be so bad. Some of the cold air must be escaping through the hole in the door where the handle fell off. He would only have to be in the freezer until Bihydrant or one of the other Bundlebobs came looking for him to play lacrosse. Chris tried to stay awake, but he shortly drifted off to sleep.
Outside, Professor Mend approached Jon, who watched the Bundlebobs playing lacrosse with just one of Chris’s sticks.
The professor looked Jon in the eyes. “It is time for you to return to your home.”
Jon returned the professor’s strange look. “Why do I have to go back? I’m perfectly comfortable here.”
Professor Mend handed Jon a stack of thick brown paper—the Sporbit plans. “Here. Take these plans with you. They may come in handy. Now follow me. You may want to say good-bye to your brother.”
Jon really did not want to go back to the corporate world, but Professor Mend insisted that he return. “Jon, you need to finish what you have started.”
“I’m not sure I know what that is.”
“Once you come to the end, you will know the reason. Now it is time for you to go.”
Back inside, Jon looked everywhere for Chris. He peeked into the lab, where he had seen Chris last, and could not find him. Before Jon could really worry, Professor Mend came up behind Jon and gave him a shot. Jon could hear himself slurring his words and talking funny. He remembered smiling, and then he hit the ground—or at least he thought it was the ground.
Jon was now once again about nine years older than his actual age. He was back in the corporate world, but to Jon this was no different than being at school. There was always someone ready to take down a smarter student. It did not matter if you wrote a better English paper or made a better invention in robotics, someone was always trying to challenge another student for their honored position at the school. It was the same on the lacrosse field. Even his younger brother would give anything to take over Jon’s attack position on the summer league.
He knew that life’s lessons began at an early age and followed a person until they died. Figuring out another person’s intent was the name of the game.
Jon woke in his office. He had fallen out of his chair and hit the floor. Jon shook his head. “That was some dream.” As he slowly stood up, the room started spinning, but he did manage to see something on his desk.
It had not been a dream after all. There, on his desk, lay the plans for the Sporbit on the thick brown paper. The paper looked a little wrinkled and torn from the trip, but the plans were still legible.
Linda, his assistant, came into the room. “I see you spent another night at the office. You have an early morning appointment, so you’d best get presentable.”
Jon rubbed his eyes. “With whom do I have this meeting?”
“You not only look terrible, but you have lost a portion of your mind. Let me get you some aspirin while you get showered and changed.”
Jon went and took a shower, and for some reason that shower felt better than any he had ever taken. After changing into a fresh suit, he went back to his desk. A large cup of black coffee, a few warm rolls, some aspirin, and a glass of water waited for him.
Just as Jon finished his coffee, Linda returned. “Your eight o’clock is here.”
Jon said, “Linda, can you restore my memory about this meeting?”
“Of course. You are meeting with a gentleman about the Sporbit.” She pointed to Jon’s desk
“Linda, give me a few minutes and then show him in.” Jon did not know why, but he picked up the plans and put them behind the door to his lavatory.
A tall man walked in, shook Jon’s hand, and then sat down. He did not waste any time starting his pitch about a partnership with Jon to produce the Sporbit. “You see, Jon, I have the capital to back this decision, and I have others willing to invest if need be. If this Sporbit does everything you say it can, everyone will come out with a hefty purse.”
After about half an hour, the man asked to use the lavatory. Jon offered him his private bathroom. The man spent an exceptionally long time in there. Jon walked near the door and heard some clicking—the sound of a camera shutter.
How could I be so stupid? The Sporbit plans are in there. Jon knocked on the door and said, as humorously as he could, “Did you drown?”
“No.” Jon heard nothing else from the man. When he finally came out of the bathroom, the man smiled.
“I don’t feel well. I’ll reschedule the rest of our meeting on another day—perhaps next week.”
If he’s sick, why is he smiling? Jon shook his hand and noticed a trail of blood on the floor. He had seen that before. This man was a backstabber. He quickly glanced at the floor, and, sure enough, the trail of blood led to the lavatory.
The man backed his way out of Jon’s office. Jon showed him to the door, saying, “I don’t think you will be needing this.” He deftly pulled the camera out of the man’s pocket. The man protested, but could not deny that he was a backstabber. Jon retrieved the Sporbit plans from the bathroom and put them back on his desk.
The door burst open. Jon, thinking it was the backstabber, quickly put the plans under his desk. When he looked up, he was shocked to see his brother, Chris, on the other side of the desk.
“Hey. That man who just left your office seems like a nice guy.”
Chris has a lot to learn about people, thought Jon. Chris and Jon hugged.
Jon said, “I tried to find you to say good-bye. Where were you?” Jon noticed Chris was very cold and pale. Even his eyelashes were tinted white. Jon called Linda. “Can you get a large hot coffee for Chris?”
Jon had no way of knowing that Chris was having an out-of-body experience. He was freezing to death in the freezer that he had built in Professor Mend’s lab.
Linda popped her head in and said, “Cream or sugar?”
Chris said, “I would prefer a large hot chocolate, if you have it.”
“Yes, I think I can find that.”
Chris said, “What’s up, big brother? I see you need to have your carpet cleaned. I just stepped in some red paint or something.”
Linda came back into the office with a large cup of hot chocolate, which she handed to Chris. He thanked
her and immediately drank most of it.
Linda said, “Your nine o’clock conference is about to start. Should I get another chair for Chris?”
Chris really did not want to stay for a conference meeting, but he did not know where else, in his frozen state, he should be right then.
Jon said, “Yes, Linda. I want Chris to see the business world I work in every day. It looks glamorous to the outside world, but it really isn’t.” Chris followed Linda out the door, while Jon sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Linda pointed down the hall to the conference room. “Chris, I think you can find your way. It’s just down the hall, and I will go dig up an extra chair for you. I also need to get some sustenance for the meeting, or they will have my head.”
Jon did not know if he had fallen asleep—he had only closed his eyes for a couple of seconds—but a woman now stood in front of his desk. He jerked himself forward and blinked his eyes several times. Jon recognized the woman from the dungeon. It was Mrs. Toddles, with the brooch and the narrow lips.
“Jon, are you ready?” she asked.
Jon cleared his throat. “Yes. Let me get my papers for the meeting. I already sent Chris in there.”
She looked at Jon with sorrowful eyes, then placed her hand on his. “No, Jon. I need to show you what will become of your life.”
Jon had no idea of what Mrs. Toddles meant, but he followed her to the conference room. As Jon and Mrs. Toddles hovered in one corner in the spirit world, they could see Mr. W talking with Jon.
Mr. Windbag greeted him warmly. “Jon, glad you are here. You’re like my son. Linda, give Jon his plane tickets for the next few days.”
Linda handed Jon several plane tickets. Jon just looked at them. Linda mouthed the word “sorry.” This grueling itinerary included four destinations in just a few days. He would have to sleep on the plane, as he had done so many times.
So far the woman who wore the brooch had not shown him anything new or disturbing. This was his life. Jon had worked for Mr. Windbag for a while now, and any day Mr. Windbag would retire and Jon would be in charge. Jon had enough money—four million dollars in savings. That figure did not include his penthouse apartment, which he had bought outright.