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ELMO’S INVENTION, CHAPTER 4

ELMO’S INVENTION

CHAPTER 4

NEW TEST SUBJECTS

The next day Elmo drove to Brooker’s Egg Farm. He pulled into the small, graveled parking lot. He liked old-man Brooker. He was a no-nonsense kind of fellow. Getting out of his car, Elmo surveyed the property. Row upon row of low-slung chicken sheds took up most of the land, and the air was full of the constant clucking of the residents.

Nate Brooker, owner of the farm, left his office and walked toward Elmo. Nate was ancient, grizzled and walked with a limp. He was a ‘take no shit’ kind of guy. If you tried to feed him a line or make small talk, he would shake his head and say, “For Christ’s sake, get to the god damned point, will you. I ain’t got all day.” And if you didn’t, he would leave you standing there, alone. Elmo was not talkative, and that suited Brooker just fine.

Extending his hand, Brooker asked, “How you doing, son? Come for a dozen of my fine eggs?”

Brooker was surprised when Elmo said, “Not today. Today I need six fertilized eggs.”

“Fertilized eggs! Are you gonna be raising your own chickens and stop buying from me? Maybe selling eggs yerself. You must be shittin’ me. Get your ass back in your damn car and get the hell off my damn property.”

To say that Elmo was taken aback would have been putting it mildly. “No, sir,” Elmo said. “I need the eggs for an experiment. I have no intention of raising chickens.”

Elmo knew about Brooker’s reputation, but this was a side of the old man he had never personally been exposed to.

“Well, young fella, I guess that’s okay. But if I find out that you’re shittin’ me, they’ll be hell to pay.”

“I assure you; the eggs will just be for an experiment.”

“I’ll hold you to your word, son.”

As they walked to one of the chicken sheds, Brooker asked, “How many you need?”

“I should think about six,” Elmo answered.

They entered the low-slung building, and Brooker pointed out, “This is where we keep the hens for mating.”

Elmo noted the roosters screeching at the top of their lungs.

Brooker began gathering eggs, about a dozen, and then motioned for Elmo to follow him to a small room. “This is where we candle the eggs to see if they’ve been fertilized.” He held the eggs up to the light, and after testing nine, had six fertile ones. “Here you are, son.” He handed Elmo a six-egg carton.

“How much?” asked Elmo.

The price surprised him. He was charged three times as much as he usually paid for a dozen eggs.

Brooker walked Elmo to his car and remade his point, “You sure you will use these eggs for an experiment and not hatch them. And what kind of experiment are we talking anyway?”

Elmo hesitated before answering, “Nate, the experiment is kind of complicated.”

“Well, what the hell isn’t nowadays,” Brooker asked.

“And, Nate, if my experiment works, some of the eggs will hatch.”

“Shit, I knew it.” Brooker was developing a slow burn, so Elmo rapidly said.

“Tell you what,” said Elmo, “if any of the eggs do hatch, I’ll bring the chickens back to you along with the empty shells. Also, I’ll return any fertilized eggs I don’t use.” Elmo thought this would assure Brooker that there was nothing but an experiment going on.

“No, son,” Brooker said. “For some stupid reason I guess I can trust you. I’m sure you won’t start a chicken farm. You’re not the type.”

Elmo could see a slight change in Brooker’s demeanor, the man appeared to relax, somewhat, and said, “Okay, son, I’ll hold you to your word.” With that Brooker walked back to his office and Elmo had his subjects for his next experiment.

Elmo was relieved to observe this vote of confidence. He walked to his car and was about to drive away when he realized he forgot to ask some very important questions. He got out of his car and went to the office, opened the door, and saw Brooker at work sitting at his desk.

“Mr. Brooker,” Elmo asked, “how long will it take the eggs to hatch, and what is the lifespan of a chicken?”

Brooker said, “Fella, you sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who does not intend to raise chickens.”

Elmo could see doubt replacing the relaxed expression Brooker had had before. Elmo quickly said, “This is just information I need to conduct my experiment.” And said once more, “ I am willing to return the chickens, if you want.”

With some trepidation, Brooker said, “That’s okay, son. If you screw me, I’ll find out about it and there will be hell to pay.” Brooker answered the questions and returned to his work.

Elmo was worried that he had asked too many questions. I could have looked that information up in a library,” he muttered.

The day Elmo purchased the eggs was a Friday. The following morning, after a hearty breakfast, and then lingering over coffee, Elmo said to his wife, “Mil, I think I have some grip on the question of what is happening in my time machine, but I need to perform three more experiments. Please, dear, come into the cellar with me. I want a witness to what I am about to attempt. You may be witnessing history.”

Mildred had been through this scenario so many times before. She loved Elmo, but knew how he would react when the experiment did not work, and she was sure that it wouldn’t although the fact that Elmo thought it kind of worked still baffled her. She did not understand his excitement after the rat experiment. With the prospect of something going wrong she knew he would sulk for days and remain to himself, and this was the beginning of the weekend, the only time they spent extended time together. Trying to inject some enthusiasm in her voice, she said, “Okay, Elmo, but don’t get too disappointed if you don’t achieve the results you expect.” She saw the usual glazed eyes before Elmo performed an experiment. He turned and went down the cellar stairs. She followed him not knowing what to expect.

After arriving at the bottom of the stairs, Mildred immediately noticed, sitting near the ‘Time Machine’, a half carton of eggs and said, “Elmo, these eggs should be in the fridge.”

“No, my dear, these are very special eggs, historic eggs, and putting them in the cold might kill them.”

“Oh, Elmo, how can you kill an egg?”

“Mil, these are special eggs. They have been fertilized.”

Elmo looked at his wife and from the expression on her face knew an explanation was required. “You see, Mil, I think I can explain the results of my rat experiments. I’m about to attempt the definitive experiments that will confirm my theory.”

Mildred smiled and prepared herself for the worst. She was beginning to plan what she would do for the next two days without her husband. That’s at least as long as it would take, she thought, him to get over a failure.

Elmo, not catching the doubt on Mildred’s face, placed two eggs into the chamber and began adjusting dials, and then started the process. Once again the interior of the chamber produced great flashes and filled with mist. When it cleared, there stood two baby chicks.

Mildred looked with wonder at the results, and said, “Oh, Elmo, they’re so cute. Now your machine can kill rats and hatch eggs.” She was quite afraid to ask the next question but couldn’t help herself. “Elmo, are you happy with the results?”

“Extremely, my dear. There are two more experiments to perform which will completely verify what the machine is doing.” With that he selected two more eggs, was about to remove the chicks, but decided to leave them in the chamber. Once again he adjusted the dials, and began the experiment, once again the chamber filled with sparks and mist. When it cleared, there stood four chickens clucking their heads off.

Mildred saw the manic gleam in Elmo’s eyes. She saw the same look when her mother’s china teacup disappeared. “Maybe that’s enough,” she said to Elmo. What she was really saying was maybe he should quit while he was ahead, if he was ahead. She actually couldn’t tell. But she also knew nothing she could do or say would stop him now.

She could see the joy in Elmo’s face, and he began doing his little dance, as he shouted, “It worked! It worked!”

Mildred did not understand the reason for Elmo’s excitement. “Elmo, I thought the subject of the experiment was supposed to travel into the future, or perhaps the past. Something definitely happened, but they stayed in the chamber.”

“I know, Mil. There still remain some details to be worked out, but don’t you see, time changed within the chamber. Granted, the subject was supposed to leave the chamber and travel through time, but for now, the time change is occurring in situ.

Mildred was confused, she asked, “In whatto?”

“In situ into the future, and then reappear after the end of the experiment, at the end of the, my dear, it means in place. The subject in the chamber was supposed to disappear preset length of the trial, exactly as he was before he left.”

Mildred said, “Okay, Elmo, but that didn’t happen. The eggs didn’t go anywhere. They just hatched in the chamber.”

“Thanks for noticing that little detail,” Elmo responded. “Granted, this experiment is not free of problems, but I feel I am on the right path to creating a time machine. You see, the subject ages in accordance with the time set for the subject’s journey. That is why, in my first series of experiments, when I sent the rat twenty years into the future a rat’s skeleton was the result.

Leaving the four chickens in the chamber, Elmo reset the dials and then stood back with great anticipation. He began the experiment and when the mist cleared all that was left were four chicken skeletons.

Mildred began to hate this infernal machine, whatever entered it would eventually die, rats, chickens, what was next? She believed in her husband, and something was definitely happening, but whatever it was it wasn’t good. She was amazed when Elmo began jumping up and down and dancing around the cellar. He shouted, “It works! It works! He then grabbed Mildred continuing to dance and shout.

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Published on February 14, 2025 09:04

ELMO’S INVENTION, CHAPTER 3

ELMO’S INVENTION

CHAPTER 3

THE TIME MACHINE

When Elmo did arrive home that night, Mildred was full of vinegar. As he walked through the door, she shouted, “In God’s name, Elmo, what on earth are you going to do with an iron lung?”

Elmo’s eyes brightened, “It came! I can’t wait to begin my next project.”

Mildred repeated, with added anger, “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH AN IRON LUNG, AND HOW MUCH DID THIS THING COST?” She could see Elmo’s eyes glaze over when he first heard of its delivery. In the past, this had never been a good sign of things to come.

“Mildred, I’m going to build a time machine.”

Mildred stared at Elmo with the heat of hostility in her eyes, and said, “You are forbidden to use any of my mother’s China,”

Elmo, trying to look contrite, said, “Mil, that will never happen again. I promise you. Anyway, this experiment requires live subjects.

Mildred shouted at the top of her lungs, “I AM NOT GOING INTO THAT THING!”

“My dear, I will never use a person until my theory is proven. But there will come a time when I need a volunteer.”

“Not me.”

“I can assure you, my beloved, it will not be you.”

Mildred gazed into Elmo’s eyes and felt no comfort. He had been known, in the heat of a scientific effort, to go back on his oath.

* * *

Many months passed during which Mildred was not allowed to venture into the cellar. Elmo forbad her entry until the equipment for his experiment was completed. If she needed anything from below, he would gladly get it for her. Just to ensure his secrecy, he attached a sturdy padlock on the outside of the cellar door and he had the only key. All this security did not do much to increase Mildred’s comfort level.

Then one sunny Saturday morning Elmo announced, “Mil, my time machine is finished. I can’t wait to show it to you.”

With a great deal of trepidation, Mildred followed Elmo down the cellar stairs where a large shape was concealed under a canvass shroud. Mildred could tell that Elmo wanted to build mystery while he presented his invention.

“Now, my dear, I present to you Elmo’s Time Machine.”

He pulled at the canvass, and there beneath was the iron lung, but greatly altered. If it had been decades later, Mildred would have said, “The tanning bed has already been invented,” for that is what Elmo’s invention resembled.

Elmo beamed as his wife beheld his creation. The top of the iron lung had been altered. It was now hinged to allow someone to climb in and lie down. The base held a complex array of dials and meters, the controls of the device.

Mildred looked in wonder at the device, and she couldn’t help it. Her curiosity got the best of her. She had seen the results of Elmo’s past experiments, but in spite of herself, she had to ask, “Elmo, what does it do?”

“I told you, Mil, it’s my Time Machine.”

Then she noticed, for the first time, cages of rats and asked, “What are the rats for? And if any escape you are going to be in so much trouble.”

Elmo forced a smile, for he knew Mildred had a temper. He had already pushed the limits of her anger more than once and did not care to explore that territory again. He explained, “They are the test subjects. You didn’t expect me to get in there for the first test.”

Mildred recalled the experiment with her china teacup, and said, “I would hope not.” Yet Elmo could not miss the brief smile that appeared on her face.

Elmo hurried to interject, “I need live subjects for this device,” as he pointed to the rats. “Let me explain my theory to you. It is quite …” He was thinking of saying simple, but instead said, “Complicated,” for he knew Mildred would require the simplest of explanations.

Mildred sat down and prepared herself for an explanation that she was sure would be long and one she would not understand.

Elmo began, “I’ve been thinking, for quite some time now, about the universe and Albert Einstein’s famous equation, E = mc². We consider space to be infinite. I reasoned that if the speed of light was constant, then the relationship between mass and energy must also be constant. Therefore, in the infinity of space, matter and energy do have a limit.

“My thinking settled on the constant of the speed of light, c². What if the speed of light could be changed; then, to keep everything in equilibrium, time would also have to change, if c² was to remain a constant. It’s pretty simple really, to change time you merely have to change the speed of light.

“As we know from Einstein, everything is relative. So, I toyed with the idea of changing the speed of light to change time. If c² was truly a constant, I could go forward or backward in time depending on how I changed the speed of light. If this held to be true, if I could increase the speed of light, time would slow. If I were able to slow the speed of light, time would increase.”

Mildred stared at Elmo and said, “My head hurts.”

Elmo, of course, disregarded this comment and pressed on. “I then designed a chamber with a series of magnets and mirrors to manipulate the speed of light. If the concept of relativity held, then time in the chamber would adjust to the varying speeds of light. The result is my Time Machine. I know that time machines are something out of science fiction. Fictional time machines would transport the subject into the past or future. Always, transporting into the past, as most stories go, had the risk of changing the future. I reasoned that going into the future had the same risks. Because, that future would be someone’s past. Therefore, to make as little impact as possible, my machine stays here, only the subject travels. You can’t imagine how difficult this thought process was to ensure absolute safety.

“I’m sure I can’t,” mumbled Mildred.

“However, there were important precautions that needed to be considered. Namely, viruses, fungi and bacteria that might travel along, in either direction, with the time traveler. You see, my dear, all clothing worn by the time traveler must be thoroughly sanitized along with the traveler and the machine. We wouldn’t carry any unknowns into the time being explored. By the same token, everything the time traveler wore would, along with the machine and the traveler, also need to be sanitized when he returned. I plan to work out any other details which may arise.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mildred said while rolling her eyes.

Once his lecture was completed, Elmo smiled. He was filled with his own brilliance.

Mildred loved her husband, loved his eccentricities, but this was too much to swallow. “Elmo, remember my teacup. You had that all figured out too.”

Elmo could see he was losing ground with Mildred, but he held firm. “Mildred, my dear, this invention is much different. With my earlier machine, granted, I had not worked out all the details. My matter transference machine had a few quirks that just needed to be worked out. Granted, I may have used it prematurely. However, my time machine has been through extensive planning and calculations, and, of course, it will need to be tested. I’m sure that it will work. The difference with this invention is that it will need a living subject.

“This sounds very familiar, Elmo. You assured me that my teacup would be safe, and now it is gone.”

Elmo rapidly interjected, “This machine is fool proof.” He noticed Mildred’s eyebrows rise when he said the word ‘fool’. He continued, “I have gone over my calculations again and again. I’m sure it will work.”

Mildred sat looking at Elmo and he could read the doubt on her face. He knew he had to talk fast. Also, he needed someone to witness the test of his invention, to witness history being made.”

Finally, Mildred said, “As long as none of my china is involved, I guess I can watch.”

Elmo beamed, “Watch this, Mil. This test of my Time Machine will be recorded in history books.”

Elmo went to a cage, selected a rat, and settled the animal into his machine’s chamber and closed the lid. He set the time advance device for one year and the length of the journey for ten minutes. If all went right, and he was sure it would, the rat should disappear, and after ten minutes, reappear from its trip into the future. Through a small porthole at the top of the chamber he observed the rat, expecting the animal to disappear.

Once the machine was started, a series of blinding flashes filled the chamber, along with heavy mist. In seconds the mist cleared, and Elmo looked down on the rat. Nothing happened to the rat.

Once the supposed ten-minute trip was over, Elmo raised the lid of the chamber, and the rat calmly stared into his face. The experiment was a failure.

Elmo was sure of his calculations. He looked at Mildred, who was shaking her head, not saying anything. “Dear, it didn’t work.

“I’m sure it was a valiant attempt, Elmo, but not everything goes the way you expect.”

Gazing at the rat, Elmo decided to give it another try. “My dear,” he said, “maybe there is an unforeseen limitation in the apparatus. Perhaps it does not function correctly for such a short time span as one year.

“I shall attempt to send my subject twenty years into the future.” He adjusted the dials and initiated the machine’s process. Once again the interior of the chamber began to flash, and a heavy blanket of mist obscured the interior. After the mist cleared, Elmo gazed at the skeleton of the rat.

Mildred observed the same result, and with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, said, “Elmo, you have apparently invented a process to kill rats, but first you have to catch them.” As she looked at her husband, she immediately regretted her comment. He was devastated by the results. She went to him and gave him a hug, and said, “I’m sure it just needs a little fine-tuning.” Knowing Elmo wanted to be alone, she went upstairs and left him in the cellar with his machine and thoughts.

Elmo spent the next few hours going over all his diagrams and compared them to the device he constructed. No fault became readily apparent. “Maybe there was some kind of power fluctuation that caused some sort of anomaly. That’s it. That has to be it.”

With new invigoration, Elmo went to the cages and selected another rat which he deposited in the chamber. He first set all the controls to zero and then duplicated the conditions of the last experiment. Once again flashes, and then a dense mist filled the chamber. When the mist cleared, he hurried to observe the results only to see another rat skeleton.

“It’s a failure. I’m a failure,” he shouted.”

After climbing the stairs Mildred heard Elmo’s muffled shouts. She knew he was feeling down and went out of her way not to antagonize him. She had learned when to be playful and when to be serious with her husband.

Elmo came up the stairs and sat in the living room, in the dark, until dinner was ready. He pondered the results of his experiment. There was no doubt that something had happened, but what? Why should a rat survive when the machine was set for one year, yet not survive when the time was set for 20 years? He racked his brain but could not come up with the answer. He had gone over the wiring diagram and compared it to the machine; everything was fine. Perhaps there was a problem with the basic science. Blocking out the world around him, he let his mind wander for an answer. After a short time, a smile grew on his face and, he shouted, “That’s it! That’s it!” and began dancing around the living room.

Mildred sometimes thought that he suffered from manic depression. Elmo’s actions now only strengthened that opinion. She mentally prepared herself and called, “Elmo, dinner.”

Her husband lightly danced into the dining room, held her in his arms and danced to his own inner music. He whirled Mildred around and there was joy in his eyes. Mildred tried to catch her breath, and then asked, “Why are you so happy, Elmo? Your experiment failed. At first nothing happened, you tried again and killed the rat. I wouldn’t call that a reason to be happy.”

Elmo giggled and replied, “You missed it. I tried again and killed yet a second rat.”

Mildred questioned, “And you call that a success, something to celebrate?”

“Well, in the strictest sense of the word, it was not a success, but something happened within that chamber. I’m considering my experiment a partial, tentative success. Better yet, I think I know what happened.”

“Then what did happen, Elmo?”

“I’m not going to say just yet. I need to run a few more experiments. Tomorrow, after work, I’m going to Brooker’s farm.”

“You mean the farm where we buy our eggs?”

“That’s right, Mil. I need some very special eggs, historical eggs.”

Mildred stared at Elmo and now was sure he was manic.

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Published on February 11, 2025 09:45

ELMO’S INVENTION, CHAPTER 1, CORRECTING MISTAKE

I made a mistake in posting chapter 1 of Elmo’s Invention. It was not complete. Here is the complete version. ELMO’S INVENTION

CHAPTER 1

ELMO’S WORKSHOP

“Mildred,” Elmo Baker shouted, “Come down here. I have something important to show you.” Standing at the base of the cellar stairs, Elmo was in his usual excited state when a project was completed. Of medium build, with a broad face and a mass of curly black hair, Elmo’s passion was science, physics in particular. Mildred, with great trepidation, began walking down the stairs to the cellar. At the base of the stairs stood Elmo, beaming, not a good sign, and Mildred could tell by the twinkle in his eye as she approached her husband, that a demonstration or explanation of an invention was about to take place. And that twinkle would slowly if the experiment failed, which was often the case.

The year was 1966, and Mildred loved Elmo so, but shortly after their marriage three years ago, it became clear how intense Elmo’s love for science was and that love would follow them all of their lives. Mildred loved Elmo’s sense of curiosity but not the prospect of cleaning up the destruction, the mess of a failed experiment.

“Come here, Mil, I’ve got something to show you.” Elmo held out his hand to Mildred and said, “You have got to see this. I’m ready to make the first test.”

Mildred was not looking forward to what Elmo might present to her. Her husband was one of the first ‘dumpster divers’. Los Alamos was the government facility known for its research of the atom, and it was where Elmo worked. And he knew that when an experiment failed, some of the materials that went into the effort were tossed, deemed trash. Lab bosses also discarded equipment they considered ‘obsolete’ to be replaced by the latest version. But Elmo thought of this trash as treasure. This was much to Elmo’s benefit and was the source that supplied his cellar laboratory. At the end of his workday at his Los Alamos lab, Elmo would back his car up to the dumpster area and go to work. On many days, he would come home with the backseat of his Chevy filled with scientific odds and ends. To Elmo, Los Alamos’ trash was the building blocks of his inventions.

Elmo led Mildred to the corner of the cellar where he had his workbench and lab of the cellar. The remainder of the room was occupied by the usual accumulation of life which now had no use but never thrown away. Below a bare overhead bulb was his invention. Which looked to Mildred like and iron lung, one she had seen delivered. Elmo could see the confusion on his wife’s face, and proudly said, “Doll, I have invented a time machine.”

* * *

Mildred kept her love for Elmo strong, although that could be difficult at times.

Elmo was two years older than Mildred. He was handsome, but that was not what had attracted Mildred to him. It was his passion for a new curiosity he discovered, usually scientific. He found the world of science fascinating, with the wonder of a child enthralled by a rattle. At times he could sit for hours just thinking and occasionally smiling. However, the toys that mystified him were sometimes slightly more dangerous than a toy.

Mildred could not recall how many times Elmo called from the cellar, “Call the fire department!” Shortly thereafter, dense smoke would issue from the open cellar door and begin to fill the kitchen. This was long before 911 existed. Mildred knew the phone number of the local fire department by heart.

She recalled the time Elmo constructed two small chambers attached by wires to an intricate control device with a host of dials and flashing lights. The device was meant to transfer objects through space. He wanted to test the machine before building the full-scale model.

Unfortunately for Mildred, she had been busy in the cellar doing some unpacking. She wanted to display in her hutch the beautiful delicate six china teacups and saucers her mother had left her. She knew exactly where they were packed and couldn’t wait to see them again.

The search did not take long, and while admiring one of the cups, she heard Elmo mutter, “I need something small.” He happened to glance at Mildred and exclaimed, “Perfect.”

Before she realized what her husband was up to, he grabbed a cup and put it in one of the chambers.

“Elmo, what are you doing? That was my mother’s cup!” shouted Mildred. “It’s precious to me.”

Elmo was only half listening as he began turning dials and focusing his attention on the chamber containing the cup. “Don’t worry, Mildred. Your cup is perfectly safe. I’m just going to send it to the chamber at the other end of my workbench.”

Much to Mildred’s surprise, her vision of the cup appeared to waver, and then disappears.

Much to Elmo’s surprise, it did not reappear in the other chamber.

“Don’t worry, Mildred. Let’s just give it some time.”

An hour later Mildred went storming up the stairs with five cups and six saucers, angry and sad at her loss.

Elmo continued to stare at the second chamber scratching his head and repeating over and over again, “I wonder where it went.” He was happy that his wife wasn’t there when suddenly he began laughing hysterically, thinking of the cup suddenly appearing someplace quite by surprise and mystifying some unsuspecting person. He was sure the cup went somewhere as matter. For if it had been converted to energy, all that would be left of his house and most of the surrounding area would be cinders.

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Published on February 10, 2025 10:21

ELMO’S INVENTION, CHAPTER 1