Walt Trizna's Blog, page 49

Elmo’s Invention Chapter VI

CONFLICT

Mildred watched as the members of the Tinkerer’s Club ascended the stairs from the cellar and prepared to depart.  Harold Kinter, William Dupree and James Forsyth bid her goodbye.  Much to her surprise, Kingsley Dasher took her hand and said, “Elmo has a marvelous intellect and his invention could someday garner you a great deal of money.  Only time will tell.”  With that he walked out the door and was gone.  

Elmo was the last to depart the cellar and Mildred could immediately tell that things had not gone as well as he had anticipated.  She was puzzled by Elmo’s downtrodden appearance and Kingsley’s departing comment.  Wanting to question her husband, she asked, “Elmo, why don’t I pour us some coffee and we have some dessert?”

Elmo, distracted by his thoughts, after a moment, replied, “That’s fine with me, my dear.  I have a great deal on my mind, and perhaps talking would help.  Things did not go as I had hoped during the meeting and I need to gather my thoughts.  I am confused about the future of my invention.  Nothing is going as I had planned.”

Mildred set the kitchen table with two steaming mugs and plates of Elmo’s favorite dessert, spice cake.  She watched Elmo sip his coffee, and then push the dessert away.  Now she knew something was definitely wrong.  Elmo never refused spice cake.  “What happened in the cellar?” Mildred asked.

Elmo hesitated, and then began, “I demonstrated my time machine using the kitten and the results were as I expected.  To everyone’s surprise, Kingsley made a comment after the experiment.  As he began to speak, I expected him to give insight into why the machine was not working, but to my surprise he said that it was working.  Only it was working in a manner not that I appreciated.  He said that I had invented the perfect prison and that my machine had the potential to change society.”

Mildred sat deep in thought remembering what Kingsley had said before departing.  Suddenly her face lit up, “He’s right.  I never would have made the connection.  The man’s a genius.  I’m so proud of you, Elmo.  Your invention will change our society.”

This did not serve to heal Elmo’s fragile ego, instead, Mildred’s comment only served to increase its fragility.

Elmo had invested a great deal of effort in planning and then building his machine.  Now, not only did it not work, but someone else had discovered its use.

Mildred could see that her husband was deeply upset.  She extended her hand across the table and said, “Come to bed, my dear.  Perhaps there is something I can do to improve your mood.”  Mildred was successful, but it wasn’t long before matters took a drastic turn.  Once again it was something that Kingsley had hinted might happen, but even he could not predict the extent of the turmoil Elmo’s machine would cause.

* * *

To this day Elmo doesn’t know how it happened or who was the one to break the secrecy surrounding the meeting of the Tinkerer’s Club. For a moment he thought maybe Mildred, but no, she would never break his confidence.  He was sure it wasn’t Kingsley.  Kingsley had trouble communicating with the members of the club.  Elmo could not picture him going to the press, or even breaking the club’s confidence with a friend.  Elmo doubted he had few friends outside the club.  That left James Forsyth, William Dupree and Harold Kinter as the culprit.  He questioned them all and every one denied that they talked about the machine.  Elmo knew one of them was lying.  His money was on either James Forsyth or William Dupree.

James was a people person and loved being the center of attention.  He also enjoyed talking about his work and Elmo could just picture him letting slip the nature of the Tinkerer’s meeting.  James’ tongue was often ahead of his brain when he really got going in a conversation.

William was also suspect.  Being short, and as most short people, he feared being ignored, feared being lost in a crowd – literally.  So how better to avoid being lost then becoming its center.  Elmo could picture him trying to impress people.  Telling them of a great new device that would do away with prisons and save society billions of dollars.  And after explaining all this, whispering, “Now promise that you won’t tell a soul.”

The more he thought about who the culprit might be, the more Elmo became sure that William was the guilty party, but William, as well as the rest of the members present that night, emphatically denied speaking about the machine to anyone.

The manner in which Elmo discovered that the secrecy of the Tinkerer’s Club meeting had been broken was a phone call he received from a local newspaper.  Published only once a week, The Los Alamos Herald was primarily concerned with community events, births, weddings and funerals.  Most of what was news in the town of Los Alamos was Top Secret so there really wasn’t much to report.  When word of Elmo’s invention began to spread through the tight-knit community, the paper was all over it.

One evening, while Elmo and Mildred were enjoying their supper, the phone rang.  “I’ll get it,” said Elmo as he rose to answer.  This was long before the age of telemarketers, and for that matter, answering machines.  When the phone rang you knew it was something important.  Elmo answered, “Hello.”

A voice on the other end said, “Hello, this is Nate Bush calling from The Los Alamos Herald.  I’d like to speak to Dr. Elmo Baker.”

Mildred watched Elmo and saw his expression range between puzzlement and fear.  

Elmo said, “Elmo here.  What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been told you’ve invented a rather unique machine, a machine that may do away with prisons.  Could you comment on this device?”

Elmo did not know how he should answer.  He thought the events of the meeting would remain confidential.  He now felt anger and frustration and did not know where to direct it.  He had to respond. He couldn’t lie because he would soon be filing a patent for his machine.  “I have built a device that can age the occupant to a predetermined age.”

“How long does this process take?”

Elmo responded, “Oh, just a matter of minutes.”

“How exactly does it work?”

Elmo was not about to admit that he really didn’t know, that it was intended to be a time machine and that something went wrong, so he answered, “I’d rather wait until I patent the device before I divulge its workings.  Also, I’d appreciate it if you would postpone writing any article until I receive the patent.”

Nate was disappointed at this request but felt he had to respect Elmo’s wishes.  He responded, “I’ll write-up the article and wait until I hear that your patent has been granted.”

Elmo, somewhat relieved, said, “I would appreciate that a great deal.  I’ll give you a call when the patent is approved.”

After hanging up the phone, Elmo said to Mildred, “Someone broke their word.  That was The Los Alamos Herald and they wanted to know about my invention.  I can’t believe all this is happening about something I truly do not understand.”

* * *

Later that day George Holkum walked over to Nate’s desk.  The paper was losing money and George, the managing editor, needed to turn that around.  

He asked Nate, “How did that prison thing interview go?  Are we dealing with a nutcase or what?”

Nate began to perspire.  He knew that the paper was in trouble and needed sales.  He also knew he had a fantastic story, but he had given his word.  Nate said, “I think it’s the real thing.  The man is a scientist and he wants to keep things quiet until he gets a patent.”

George said, “Publish the story.  Maybe it will increase our circulation.  We’re not in a position to not publish something important.  We have a responsibility to the stockholders.”

Nate responded, “But boss, I gave my word.”

“Your word won’t sell papers.  Publish your story!”

* * *

The following Wednesday Elmo went to work and immediately became aware that something was not quite right.  Everyone stared at him as if he had two heads.  His usually friendly coworkers were avoiding making eye-contact with him, were uncomfortable to be in the same room with him. Someone finally handed Elmo the latest edition of the Los Alamos Herald, published that morning.

Elmo was shocked at the headline, shouting in huge bold print, Scientist, Elmo Baker Has Invented a Prison that will Change Humanity.  He couldn’t believe it.  He kept muttering to himself, “They promised not to publish.”  He read on and found to his dismay all the details he shared with Nate Bush.  How would this change his life?  He was sure it would not be for the better; trouble was surely down the road and he had a feeling the road would not be a long one.

After sitting in his cubicle, he immediately phoned Nate.  “You promised not to publish anything about my invention.  I trusted you.”

Elmo could hear the guilt in Nate’s voice as he answered, “I wanted to honor my promise but the managing editor insisted I publish the article.  Circulation is down and he wanted something that would catch the readership’s interest.  All we ever get to report is the local news, and with the gossip in this town, most people know what we publish before we publish it.  This story is big.

“But I trusted you.  People at work look at me as if I’m some kind of freak.  What are the rest of the people in Los Alamos going to think?”

“Take it easy, Elmo.  I’m sure this will blow over in no time at all and everything will return to normal.”

The next day Elmo’s life would change in a big way.

* * * 

The Los Alamos rag was read by the locals for local news. Because interest in the paper’s stories appealed to former Los Alamos residents, stories were posted with a wire service.  That’s how Elmo’s problems reached a new level.

The Friday morning after the story appeared in The Los Alamos Herald, Elmo and Mildred were sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast.  Mildred asked, “Things calmed down at work, Elmo?”

“Things are better now.  I explained, to anyone interested, that I discovered the ‘prison’ by mistake, that I’m not really sure that it has any practical purpose and that’s the truth.  I can’t picture the thing being used, and Kingsley Dasher hinted that there may be problems down the road even though he was the one who first envisioned the device as a prison.  I sure didn’t tell anyone that it was a time machine that I really wanted to invent.  I can just imagine the response I would get from that bit of information.”

Elmo was about to continue when the ringing phone interrupted him.

Mildred said, “I’ll get that.  Hold your thought.”

Elmo watched as she answered the phone.  At first she had a puzzled look on her face, and then her eyebrows knit and her forehead wrinkled with shock and confusion.  She said to the caller, “Yes, Mr. Slattery, this is the residence of Elmo Baker.  He’s right here.”

Elmo was puzzled.  He didn’t know a Mr. Slatterly.

Mildred held her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “He’s a reporter from The New York Times.”

A film of sweat broke out on Elmo’s forehead.  He knew this was going to be trouble.  He slowly took the phone from Mildred.  “Hello, this is Elmo Baker.  How can I help you?”

“Dr. Baker, this is Joe Slatterly from The New York Times, the paper is extremely interested in the wire story published by The Los Alamos Herald.  I’d like to come to New Mexico and interview you and take some pictures of your machine.  It could change the penal system as we know it.  We feel that the public needs to know about your invention.”

Elmo thought about the reaction that the locals had when they read about his invention.  He could not imagine what it would be like if the entire country, no wait, the entire world knew about his invention.

Elmo said, “I don’t think I’d be comfortable letting the world know about my invention.  The reaction locally was not the best.  I’d rather forget about the whole thing.”

“But Elmo.  Can I call you Elmo?”

“Sure, Elmo’s fine.”

“You could change society for the better.  The convicted could fulfill their debt to society and not experience the degradation and dangers of prison life.  There would be less recidivism.  Prisoners could get on with their lives without the scars of prison life.” 

Elmo began to weaken.  “I suppose my machine could serve a benefit to society.”

“I’m sure it would.  Have you thought much about patenting and selling it?”

“I do plan to patent it, but after that, I don’t know.  I’m just now getting over the shock of how the news was taken around here.”

Slatterly talked fast.  He didn’t want to lose Elmo.  “Well, an article in The New York Times would certainly provide a great deal of publicity.  It might cause some rough spots for you, but it would definitely make the public aware of your device, especially potential customers.  And you know what they say.  ‘There’s no such thing as bad publicity.’”

Mildred listened to Elmo’s end of the conversation and could tell he was wavering and began to think he would do what the reporter wanted him to do.  The gleam in his eyes was beginning to frighten her.  See had seen that look too many times before.

After a few more minutes Elmo finished his conversation by saying, “That would be fine, Mr. Slatterly.  I’m looking forward to seeing you the day after tomorrow.”

After Elmo hung up Mildred immediately asked, “Elmo, what are you doing?  Are you going to talk to that reporter even after how our neighbors and friends reacted after they found out about your machine?  How could you?”

Doubt passed over Elmo’s face, but he quickly recovered.  “Mil, I could help society, free-up money for uses more important than prisons, like education and medical research.”

“Oh I see, Elmo.  You are going to save the world while we become lepers in our own community.”

“That’s a little harsh, Mil.”

“We’ll see,” Mildred said as she stormed out of the room.

* * *

Two days later The New York Times reporter, along with his photographer, appeared at Elmo’s front door.  They called ahead from the airport before they left New York to let Elmo know when he should be expecting them.  When the doorbell rang Elmo wanted to get to the front door before Mildred, who had been moody ever since the reporter’s call.  

Elmo opened the door and extended his hand to the young smartly-dressed man before him.  “You must be Joe Slatterly from The New York Times.”

“That’s right, sir.  And this is my photographer, Larry Hitchcock.  I’ve been looking forward to this interview and seeing your machine.”

Elmo began, “First, call me Elmo.  Let’s go down to the cellar.  I’ve been planning a demonstration for you.”  Elmo led the way to the cellar door and found Mildred standing close to it.  She was civil to the two men from The New York Times, Elmo knew she would be.  What he feared was how she would react and what she would say after they left.

As the group descended the stairs to Elmo’s laboratory, Elmo said, over his shoulder, “I’ve arranged a little demonstration to show you how my device works.” 

Once in the cellar, Larry said, “Look, Joe, an old iron lung.  I haven’t seen one of those in years.  Elmo, do you collect old medical equipment too?”

Slatterly was in a hurry.  He wanted to see the demonstration, talk to Elmo and get out of Hicksville as soon as possible.  “So,” Slatterly asked, “where is your machine?”

Elmo pointed to the iron lung, “That’s it, gentlemen.  I needed a chamber that would fit a human.  Although it may not look like much, what makes this iron lung unique is the electronics I’ve incorporated.  Let me show you how it works.”

Walking to a cage at a far wall, Elmo extracted a rat he had recently obtained, and returned to the iron lung.  He put the rat in the chamber and motioned for Larry to approach.  “Larry, you might want to take a ‘before’ photo of the rat.”

“Sure, Elmo.”

Once the photo was taken Elmo said, “I will conduct this experiment in two stages.  This rat is about four months old.  The lifespan of a rat is about three years.  I will first set the time dial to two years and the length of the experiment to one minute.”  Elmo pushed the initiate button and said to the men, “Please observe.”

They stepped closer to the chamber and saw that a white mist had enveloped the rat, and then quickly disappeared.  The rodent appeared to be slightly bigger than before.

Elmo said, “As you can see, the rat has increased in size.  Now I shall set the time dial to twenty years.”

Once again Elmo initiated the sequence and once again the chamber filled with a white mist.  As the mist began to clear, Nate and Larry could see the rat shrivel.  It became no more than a husk and then collapsed into a mound of dust and bones.  Elmo told Larry, “You can take the ‘after’ picture now.”

Joe and Larry were speechless.  Both expected this claim, for a device which could serve as a prison, to be the fantasy of some demented scientist, but here was the proof before their eyes.  They were truly amazed at what they had witnessed.  Larry took the picture but still couldn’t believe what he had seen.

Joe, still mystified at what he had witnessed, asked, “How did you do that, Elmo?”

“Well,” Elmo began, “the science is rather complicated.  Let’s just say that the theory and principles behind this device are based, for the most part, on Einstein’s work.”  Elmo could not reveal, in reality, that he did not truly understand how it worked and that it was meant to be a time machine.

Joe asked, “So this thing will kill the occupant?”

Elmo was shocked and quickly answered, “Oh no, no.  As you witnessed, the first run only aged the rat.  I wanted the rat to expire in order to demonstrate that time, in the chamber, had truly advanced.  I wasn’t sure if you would believe, with the first experiment, that the rat had aged.

“If a human had been in the chamber he would have aged twenty years in a matter of minutes.  His debt to society, paid.”

After a few more questions for Elmo, Joe said, “I guess we’re finished, Elmo.  This will make a great story and the pictures should really open the eyes of the public.”

Elmo felt apprehension with the last comment.

Joe asked, “Elmo, could we get a photo of you standing in front of your machine?”

Elmo hesitated, but finally said, “I guess it would be all right.”

Larry took the picture and the trio then walked up the stairs out of the cellar.  Joe and Larry said their good-byes and drove away.

As Elmo closed the door he could hear Mildred walk into the room behind him.  This was the moment he dreaded.

“Well, Elmo, were those fellas impressed by your machine?  Did they get the story they wanted?”

“Yes, dear, I think things went rather well.  I demonstrated the device and they were most impressed.”  

Mildred turned and, as she left the room, said with coldness in her voice, “We’ll see what happens when the story comes out.  I hope I’m wrong about bad things to come and soon the entire matter just fades away.” 

Elmo began to think that this was going better than he had hoped, but that thought was short lived.

Elmo’s Invention Chapter V

ELMO’S PRISON

When Kingsley rose, everyone looked in his direction.  It was not unprecedented that he would speak at a meeting, but it was definitely a rare occurrence.  What Kingsley said to the group would usually solve the problem at hand.  Elmo prepared to hear great things from Kingsley and gain insight on how to fix his machine.

After once again clearing his throat, whether to gain everyone’s attention or because he found talking to be an effort, no one was sure, he began to speak.  “Elmo, you must be rewarded for your effort.  Although you have not accomplished what you set out to accomplish, and perhaps never will, your invention could possibly change the course of society.  I have no doubt that mankind will greatly benefit from your invention, if they choose to embrace its benefits is a different matter.  Only time will tell.”

Elmo, along with the rest of the group, was both puzzled and full of anticipation.

Kingsley continued, “However, I am a mathematician and not an ethicist and cannot predict the consequences of your discovery.”

Elmo said, “I am totally lost.  You say I have made a great discovery, yet at the same time say that its use will produce ethical problems.”

“That’s correct, Elmo.  Your invention, in my mind, would be the perfect prison.”

Elmo, along with William and James, stared at Kingsley in total disbelief, and then slowly began to understand what he was saying.

After a few moments of deep thought, Harold Kinter voiced his thoughts to the gathering, “Of course, I can see it now.  Elmo, your invention, though unintended, could do away with prisons as we know them.  Year-long sentences could be served in a matter of minutes.  It would save society millions of dollars and save prisoners from the dangers inherent in incarceration.

“Think of it!  No matter what the length of a prisoner’s sentence, the punishment could be delivered in a matter of minutes.  Your invention could funnel money into projects that benefit society, and save prisoners from harm.”

They all looked at Elmo.  His visage was one of disappointment and disbelief.  “I meant my invention to be a time machine; instead you say I invented the perfect prison.  I failed.”

Kingsley stepped totally out of character and attempted to comfort his colleague.  “Elmo, some of the greatest discoveries in the world were made by accident.  Look at all the lives that were saved by the discovery of penicillin.  If Fleming had not noticed that petri dish with mold and dying bacteria, who knows how long it would have taken for someone else to discover that life-saving antibiotic.

“Think of the value of your discovery, and someday I am sure that you will determine the principle behind the device.  With your invention, no matter the length of a prisoner’s sentence it could be served in minutes with virtually no expense to society.  And when it comes to a death sentence, your machine can accomplish that too, but a death sentence is a death sentence no matter how it is accomplished.

Then James Forsyth began to speak, “I can think of another question which requires an answer. After a prisoner serves his term in your machine, what is his mental state? Is his mind the same as it was before the prison term? Or does his mind age along with his body?  Although I cannot imagine how the mind ages with the lack of experience.”

Elmo can think of no answer to the question of mind aging. I feel this can only be determined with the test of a said, “I human subject. But I must add I owe a great deal of gratitude for introducing important questions I had not considered.” 

“Your device could save society millions, perhaps billions of dollars and funnel the revenue into efforts that would better society.  Education, medical research, providing for the elderly and that is only the tip of the iceberg of what could be affected by this machine.  But I fear there will be obstacles to this scenario which I cannot anticipate.

“You see, our society is inconsistent.  It professes one set of values, yet lives by another.  We say how important education is, but we do not support it the way we should, not to mention that the key to education is parental input.  We pay lip service to medical advancement, but do not fund the conjecture that could become reality.  And when a discovery is made, many times it is beyond the reach of those who would benefit.  We say we value the elderly, yet turn away when we could make their final years more comfortable. 

“I fear there will be great objection to your discovery, but cannot anticipate the form it will take.  Good luck, Elmo.  You have a difficult path ahead of you.”

ELMO’S INVENTION CHAPTER IV

THE TINKERER’S CLUB

With the experiments completed and his understanding of what he had observed, there was only one thing to do: Call a meeting of the Tinkerer’s Club.

Elmo moved in a circle of physicists, mathematicians and theoretical scientists at Los Alamos.  They referred to themselves as the Tinkerers, one member or another constantly came up with ideas to explore and devices to construct.  There were approximately ten members, the numbers would vary with interest and transfers to other parts of the country.  Gatherings of the members would take place with as little as two or as many as all current members.  It all depended on what the member’s specialty was, or were too busy involved in their own ideas.  They would ponder, on their own time, ideas no one would pay them to ponder.  The opportunity to contribute to the knowledge of man was their driving force, also if successful, develop a second income. They referred to their efforts as ‘cellar science’, although they did not all have cellars, but the original members all did. What they all had in common was the joy in letting their imaginations run wild without restrictions.  They all didn’t work in cellars, some worked in garages and some in rented space, but they all shared a scientific curiosity. 

Elmo was the youngest member.  Age was not a factor for being accepted into the group, only a passion for science and a high level of intelligence.  Most of the members had projects in progress, or theories they wanted to explore.  When a member felt his work had come to a milestone he would call a meeting to be held in his laboratory.  Those who would attend would study the results and give advice, if they could, but there was almost always encouragement to press on with the project.

Elmo took a week to prepare his presentation.  It would usually involve the member’s theory, applications of the project and any problems which needed to be solved 

The night of the meeting four members arrived to analyze the conjecture Elmo would present.

Harold Kinter promised to attend the meeting.  He was forever the first to a meeting for he had only one thing in his life, and that was his science.  Physics was his field and he had occasion to work with Elmo.  A few years older than Elmo, Harold was portly and a bachelor, and would likely remain so all his life.  He spent his workdays and after work hours contemplating esoteric theories to occupy his mind.  In another life, he could well have been a model for Sherlock Holmes.  Although his habits did not readily welcome others into his world, he was not a loner.  He chose to surround himself only with those who could stimulate and impact his thoughts.

Another member, James Forsyth, also agreed to come.  Forsyth was also a physicist but the direct opposite of Harold.  James was so gregarious that when someone met him, they immediately thought he was a salesman.  He had the life of an average guy, married with two children.  In his mid-forties, his chestnut hair had begun to gray at the temples.  It was only when someone asked him what he did for a living that the impression of James Forsyth changed.  He would begin talking about physics and couldn’t stop.  Only when he opened his mouth about work did those around him realize he was far from the average guy.

Also due to arrive was William Dupree.  He was a mathematician who also craved human contact.  Now in his mid-fifties, and a bachelor, he was exceedingly short.  At just over five feet tall, he found himself often ignored.  Desperately wanting his voice to be heard, he found the Tinkerer’s Club an avenue to have a more intimate relationship with his colleagues.

Elmo was surprised when Kingsley Dasher also agreed to attend.  Kingsley rarely attended meetings.  When in attendance, he would make Harold Kinter appear to be the life of the party.  Kingsley defined the term ‘loner’.  Tall and thin, with a shaved head, he was at least sixty but no one knew for sure, well, no one also  knew if he was married, had children, or anything of his background and education.  Although he rarely attended meetings, when he appeared he was more than welcome by the presenter for Kingsley was considered ‘the brain’.

He would sit alone and listen to the presentation and arguments.  Often during the course of a meeting he would not say a word.  When the presentation and discussions were completed, at times he would merely rise and leave, never saying anything.  However, when he did speak there was total silence in order to grasp every word he uttered. 

Two days before the meeting was scheduled to occur, Elmo informed Mildred that the Tinkerer’s Club would arrive to discuss his time machine.  She responded, “I’ll have a pot of coffee and dessert ready for them.”  She knew the coffee would be consumed, along with perhaps a second pot, but the dessert hardly touched, except for Harold Kinter.  He definitely would enjoy a dessert.

The day of the meeting, Elmo made a decision on his way home.  Mildred made him get rid of the rats and he agreed to.  In reality, they were beginning to smell up the entire house so he had no problem in agreeing. Also, it was work to maintain them.  However, now he needed a subject to demonstrate his machine.  Elmo recalled that his wife had, for some time now, been aching for a pet cat.  She loved cats and often told Elmo, “If I had a cat it would keep me company while you’re at work.”

With this in mind, he stopped at an animal shelter on his way home and selected a six week – old orange and white tabby kitten.  When he arrived home and walked into the kitchen carrying a cardboard box, the kitten inside began to meow.  Mildred ran to Elmo and took the box he was carrying and peered inside.

“Oh, Elmo, you brought me a kitten.”  She lifted the kitten out of the box, and hugging it to her breast, and was rewarded with instant purring.  “Elmo, she’s beautiful.  Thank you so much.”

Elmo asked, “What will you name her?”

“I’ll have to think about that for a while.  I just hope you can tolerate the damage she’ll do until she’s old enough to be declawed.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem, Mil.  You’ll be able to have her declawed tomorrow.”

“I can’t do that tomorrow.  She’s much too young.  She must be at least … Oh no, Elmo, you’re not putting her into your chamber, are you?”

“Dear, you made me get rid of the rats.”

“They were stinking up the cellar and I could smell them in the house every time you opened up the cellar door.”

“Mil, I need to demonstrate the time machine tonight to the Tinkerer’s Club.  Look on the bright side; she won’t have a chance to cause damage with her claws.”

“Elmo, if anything happens to my kitten there will be hell to pay.”  Mildred looked down at the little ball of fur and scratched her ears which intensified the purring, saying, “I’ll miss your kittenhood, but in all honesty, not the damage you might cause with those front claws.”  With a final squeeze she gave the kitten to Elmo who put her back in the box and took her down to the cellar.

After dinner the Tinkerers began to arrive.  The first was Harold Kinter, as was the custom.  He accepted a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of cake, and then descended into the cellar.  In rapid order, James Forsyth and William Dupree appeared at the front door, accepted mugs of coffee, and then joined Harold in the cellar. 

The last to appear, as also was the custom, was Kingsley Dasher dressed in a suit and tie.  All the rest of the members were dressed casually.  Kingsley had never been a casual person.  Mildred was ready for him.  “A cup of Earl Grey, Kingsley?” She knew he preferred tea.

“Why, that would be much appreciated,” he answered.  After obtaining his beverage, he joined the rest of the group in the cellar to witness tonight’s presentation.  He took his usual location of choice, away from the rest of the group.  He would appear to be indifferent to the entire event, but all the members knew he would be listening intently and would only comment when he thought his input would be of value or steer the meeting in the direction which was required.  Stationed in an old recliner in a corner of the cellar, Kingsley tented his fingers and closed his eyes.

In the meantime, Harold, James and William gathered around Elmo’s machine with great anticipation.  Elmo was identified as a valued member for his curiosity and intelligence.

Elmo began, “What you see before you, my friends, is my attempt to produce a time machine.  I chose to construct it around an iron lung so that a person, a time-traveler, could comfortably recline inside.  The intention was to have the time-traveler travel forward in time and return after a preset interval, however, the machine would remain here.”

Elmo went on to explain his theory for time travel and his calculations.  The group was amazed as he discussed the basis of his theory for time travel.  Kingsley listened through half-closed eyes.  Elmo continued, “However, there is a problem and that is the reason I called this meeting.  I have tested my device on a variety of animal subjects, including fertilized eggs.  It was with the eggs that I determined the flaw in my machine.  You see, the subject does travel forward in time, but does not leave the machine.  Rather, they age, and after the preset interval of the journey, they do not return to their original state but remain at their future age. Fertilized eggs become chicks. Chicks become chickens. Given the required length of time, rats become skeletons.  I would now like to demonstrate this phenomenon.”

“Before you demonstrate your device,” Kingsley asked, “How does it create mass? As you describe your results, mass was created with your egg experiments and where did mass go when you produced a rat skeleton?”

Elmo’s face showed puzzlement. He had not thought of this question before.

The mass question produced total silence in the group. They all knew of the balance between mass and energy. That the formation of mass should result in a tremendous drain of energy from somewhere. By the same token, the loss of mass should result in a dramatic increase in energy. Enough energy to obliterate the area surrounding the experiment. The question of the production and loss of mass stymied the Tinkerers.

Suddenly Harold Kinter began to smile. He thought he had a possible answer to the mass question. He began, “There is only one possible explanation. Somehow, and I’m sure no can answer how, Elmo’s machine has been able to tap into the realm of dark matter and dark energy. I feel that can be the only explanation.

“The existence of this strange form of matter and energy is postulated, and may someday be proven as fact. And can be the only explanation for the creation and deletion of mass which I can think of.”

The entire group pondered this explanation and were unanimous in their agreement  Elmo then went to the cardboard box and picked up the kitten which immediately began to purr and lick Elmo’s hand.  “This kitten, six weeks old, is tonight’s subject.  I will set the journey into the future to six months.  The length of the experiment will be five minutes.”

He deposited the kitten into the chamber, and after adjusting a few dials, initiated the process.  As usual, the chamber lit up and filled with mist.  After the haze cleared there stood a nearly full-grown cat with the identical markings of the kitten. Elmo lifted the feline out of the chamber and went upstairs to deliver the nearly mature cat to Mildred.

When he returned, Harold, James and William were excited and at the same time puzzled.  Harold began, “This is truly amazing, Elmo.  I’m sure you are not far from inventing a true time machine.”

William and James concurred with Harold’s observation.  James added, “When the problem is worked out, this could be an invention of unimaginable proportions.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, Kingsley cleared his throat and began to speak.

ELMO’S INVENTION CHAPTER III

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 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 in 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 a 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 as 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.

* * *

The next day Elmo drove to the 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 a some very important questions.  He got out of his car and went to the office, opened the door, and saw Brooker fast 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, my dear, it means in place.  The subject in the chamber was supposed to disappear into the future, and then reappear after the end of the experiment, at the end of the 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 to dance and shout. dancing around the cellar.  He shouted, “It works!  It works!  He then grabbed Mildred continuing dance around the room.

ELMO’S INVENTION CHAPTER II

BEGINNING OF THE TIME MACHINE                                                                                                                  

One day after visiting the supermarket, although in those days they weren’t very super, Mildred was pulling her two-wheeled shopping cart down the street and was amazed to see a pickup parked in her driveway.  It was three in the afternoon and four burly men stood behind the truck.  They looked relieved when they saw her approach.  In the bed of the truck was a huge piece of equipment.  Mildred recognized it immediately.  It was an iron lung.

Just recently, the newly developed polio vaccine began distribution on sugar cubes. Gradually iron lungs were no longer needed.  However, Mildred had lived with the fear of polio, knew people who had contracted the disease. Some still depended on the device for their lives to continue. “Where do you want this, lady?” asked the man obviously in charge.

“I don’t want it anywhere,” answered Mildred.  She had no idea why they had brought this to her home.  Then her mind had a flash, Elmo.

“Does an Elmo Baker live here?” the man asked. 

There it was.  Her husband had bought an iron lung.  Shaking her head, Mildred said, “I’m sure it belongs in the cellar.  I’ll show you the way.”

After many grunts and groans, the machine rested on its wheels in the cellar.

 “What could Elmo want with this thing?” pondered Mildred out loud.

Hearing Mildred one of the men said, “I don’t know nothing, lady.  We just deliver.”

The crew went back upstairs and climbed into their truck and left. And Elmo had some explaining to do when he came home from work.

ELMO’S INVENTION

As promised in a past post, I will be posting chapters of my novella, Elmo’s Invention, every two or three days. Followed by published short stories.

Following the short stories I will be posting chapters of my novella, Elmo’s Sojourn which is a squeal to Elmo’s Invention.

Hope you enjoy these works.

ELMO’S INVENTION

                                                   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 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 strong her love for Elmo, 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 tea cups 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, the cup appeared to waver, and then disappear.

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.

MEMOIR II

                                     ESCAPE FROM THE CITY

As a youngster I was a member of scouts for years, going from Cub Scout to Boy Scout and on to Explorer.  Along the way I earned an Eagle Award and learned and explored many things a city boy would not normally encounter.  One of the activities I enjoyed the most was the opportunity to go camping.

An hour’s drive northwest of Newark was a Boy Scout campground near Booton, New Jersey.  My troop would camp there several times a year, mostly in the winter.  Cabins of various sizes dotted the campground.  The only source of heat was a fireplace and cooking was done on a wood-burning stove.  One winter, the weather was so cold that the pipes to the old hand pump burst and we had to melt ice for water.  It seemed the harsher the conditions; the more we enjoyed the outing.  City boys were facing nature head on.

The camping trips were formal outings organized by the troop.  The less formal day hikes to the local Boy Scout area located in the South Orange Mountain Reservation, would be organized spontaneously, when a group of us were just hanging around with nothing to do.  For a group of boys ranging from maybe eleven to thirteen, these trips were a real adventure.  The beauty of these outings was that the city bus could take us to the base of the mountain.  No adult input was required, once permission to go was obtained.

We usually caught the bus fairly early in the morning because once we arrived at the base of the mountain; it was at least an hour walk up the mountain to the Boy Scout area.  Sitting amongst commuters going to work or out to do some shopping, we were ladened with packs and canteens and any other camping paraphernalia we thought we might need.  We rode through the Newark downtown area, then north through some of the blighted areas of the city, and finaly on to the more affluent suburbs.  The bus would leave us in the shopping district of South Orange, where we would start to trudge up the hill to what us city boys considered wilderness.  We hiked past stately homes with manicured lawns, a far cry from our homes in Newark.  Finally, the houses were replaced with trees and the sidewalks with a dirt shoulder – we were almost there.

Our destination lay down a dirt road branching from the main highway.  The area was large and open, set aside where scouts could build fires and cook their meals.  Across a stream bordering the area and up into the trees, stood a few cabins for weekend trips.  The day hike area was also supplied with a generous amount of wood provided by work crews trimming trees.  For a bunch of boys who thought starting a charcoal fire by themselves was an adventure – this was nirvana.

Everyone’s lunch was usually consisted of hot dogs and foil-wrapped potatoes and onions.  The fire built to prepare these meager meals was immense to say the least.  Once everyone tired of throwing on wood, we had a fire too hot to approach to do any cooking.  Either you waited for the flames to die down or had to find a very long stick to cook our hot dogs. Late afternoon found us journeying down the mountain to catch the bus home.  People on the bus would stare at us for we smelled of smoke on our ride home to Newark

THE DESIRES OF AN OLD MAN.NO GOING BACKI want to go backT...

THE DESIRES OF AN OLD MAN.

NO GOING BACK

I want to go back

To right my wrongs.

I want to go back

To enjoy the moments,

The best moments

Of my life.

I want to go back

To experience the good,

And obliterate the bad.

I know this is a dream,

Impossible,

But in my dreams

The impossible

Is accomplished. 

A NEWARK MEMORY

THE NEWARK DRIVE IN

Tucked along the eastern edge of Newark, in the shadows of the Jersey City and New York City bound bridges was the Newark Drive In.  Surrounded by factories, junkyards and tank farms, the drive in was almost directly under the flight path of nearby Newark Airport, which at times, made listening to the movie something of a challenge.  When approaching the drive in, you were greeted by the swampy, musty smell of Newark Bay.  ‘The Dumps, ‘an area living up to its name, also boarded the drive in and added to the odors of its refineries and sewage treatment plants creating the ambiance of the area.

  Our Newark drive in was a large are with a tall wooden fence constructed as its boundary and a total lack of landscaping of any kind, being true to the Newark life style – bare essentials are all that you get.

On warm summer nights the family would pack into the old Chevy, supplied with food and pillows and drive out to the drive in.  The smaller kids would already be in their pajamas in anticipation of not making it to the second movie of the double feature.  Being the oldest, I was given the opportunity to sit up front. In those days, the front seats being bench seats, there was plenty of room.

We would arrive at the drive in just before dusk, pay our money and be given the PIC and off we would go.  PIC was an insect repellent product.  A flat spiral affair. you lit the end and it would give off a pungent aroma daring mosquitoes to venture near.  I really don’t know if it worked because we would also douse ourselves with insect repellent to ward off the visitors from the nearby swamps.

We’d find our spot and park the car at just the right angle on the mound that ran the length of the theater to get a perfect view of the screen for everyone.  The smaller kids, in their pajamas, would head for the playground and run around till they couldn’t see what they were doing which also indicated that it was time for the movie to begin.

One movie I recall seeing was entitled Macabre.  The movie was supposed to be so scary that you were issued a life insurance policy when you entered the drive in.  It was good for the length of the movie and if you should be unlucky enough to die of a fright-induced heart attack during the movie you collected, or you next of kin anyway.  The movie was a real bomb; the cartoon was scarier.  I wondered though what would have happened if someone would have dropped dead of your usual run-of-the-mill heart attack. Would they have collected?

There was always an intermission between movies.  Time to advertise the goodies available at the snack bar.  The screen would be full of dancing hot dogs and talking cups of soda all counting down the fifteen minutes till the next show.   The audience was your typical Newark crowd, the women in their smocks and the dads in their handlebar t-shirts.  One snack that was advertised every time I went to the drive in was Flavo Shrimp Rolls.  The only place you could buy a Flavo Shrimp Roll was at the drive in, they did not exist outside their gates.   I’m sure you could get other shrimp rolls someplace, but I don’t think your typical Newark crowd, at this time, ate many shrimp rolls.  But up there on the screen, after the hot dogs had danced off you could see the cartoon characters lining up for their Flavo Shrimp Rolls.  I think we actually bought one once, only once.  I used to wonder who looked at the crowd coming into the drive in and said to himself, “These people will buy up Flavo Shrimp Rolls like there’s no tomorrow.”

The Newark Drive In is gone now, long gone.  Last I heard, a movie theater stands where the drive in once existed.  And I’m sure with the demise of the drive in went the opportunity for anyone to buy a Flavo Shrimp Roll.

I’M BACK

It has been quite a while since I posted on my blog.

But I’m back.

I plan to post a few portions of my memoir beginning with this piece about my youth and where I grew up.

Also, I will share my novella Elmo’s Invention.

Elmo’s Invention is a prequel to an earlier novella I wrote, Elmo’s Sojourn. Elmo’s Sojourn was published online by Bewildering Stories in 2006. Later, it was published by another publisher in a print anthology.

I sometime ago, purely by accident, found that the first two chapters of Elmo’s Invention were published in China in 2008. I have no idea how that happened.

At the end of Elmo’s Invention, I will provide a link to Bewildering Stories taking you to Elmo’s Sojourn. You will then have an opportunity to read the novellas in chronological order.

                                                 MY NEWARK EXPERIENCE

I was born and raised in Newark, New Jersey. I am often reminded that there is a Newark in Delaware, but they use a different pronunciation than the New Jersey version. I guess they don’t want to be confused with my Newark. Just conjecture.

Born in 1947, I lived in Newark until I was eighteen. That’s when I left for Oklahoma to attend college. Graduation was followed by four years in the air force.

Now a description of my Newark home.

Our dwelling was a two-bedroom flat in Newark’s Ironbound section. You entered through the kitchen. Then walk straight into the first bedroom, then straight into the second bedroom, and finally into the parlor. One long line of rooms. No doors between rooms. Total lack of privacy. There were six in my family when all was said and done. A tight squeeze with only two bedrooms.

I enjoy exploring page three of the Sunday New York Times’s real estate section and the dwellings for sale. Usually priced in the millions with many bedrooms and bathrooms and laugh at the downsides sometimes given for the houses. One often mentioned problem is the lack of a window in the bathroom. I realize now how good we had it. Our one bathroom had a window. The only drawback was it lacked a bath tub, shower and running hot water. No running hot water in my home. I thank my lucky stars that we had a window. I lived in that flat for eighteen years.

            In the summer air conditioning was supplied by an open window.

In the winter, heating was a challenge.

There were two stoves offering heat fueled with kerosene. One in the kitchen and one in the other end of the flat in the parlor. The stove in the kitchen kept the room cozy in the winter. No heat in the bedrooms and the stove on the parlor was useless.

I slept for years in the parlor in a single pull-out bed. I would drape my clothes on the stove next to my bed during the winter to get them warm. The stove could barely accomplish the task. During the winter ice would form on the inside of the parlor windows. Once it began forming on a wall. I laughed when a few years ago I saw a woman on the news complaining that during the winter she could sometimes see her breath in her apartment. Compare to the way my home looked, her apartment appeared a palace. I’m thinking, What’s your problem? Seeing your breath during the winter in the parlor with a stove was a common event.

This is a taste of my past.

More from my past will follow with entries from my memoir.