The Time Sphere (3 page)

“Actually, I would like to request two ply toilet paper and not the one ply variety,” stated Robbie in a very snobbish tone, causing Billy to roll his eyes to the ceiling.

“Ya, Robbie, that’s a great idea, so you can clog the toilet twice as bad,” grinned Joe, as he tossed the football to him.

“Joe, you’re sooo funny,” Robbie answered sarcastically.

“Ok, since everyone is taking this meeting so seriously.  How about you, Aaron, Billy?  Any input on the running of the house?” asked Sandy, as she attempted to bring the boys into the conversation and steer it away from where it was going.

“No suggestions here, Sandy.  The house is tip top as usual,” replied Aaron.  He even saluted her afterward an
d then resumed reading Plato’s
The Republic
.

Sandy sighed, shook her head and returned her attention to Billy.  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  Billy hated being the center of attention, probably due to the fact that when he was, it was usually a bad thing.  “Um, no guys, it’s all good,” he said, as he quickly averted his eyes, hoping that would take the heat off him. 

Sandy opened her mouth to say something to Billy, when someone spoke up.  “I’d like to have some friends.”  This statement came from Toby who was sitting on Sandy’s lap at the end of the couch. 

“Honey, we’re talking about things that can be improved in the house,” Sandy replied.

“But you said that house meetings are so we can improve stuff and I’d like to have more friends.  I think that would improve things a lot,” stated Toby, as he lifted his chin high to demonstrate how strongly he felt about this.

“Tobe, you know that you can invite friends from school to the house anytime you want,” she said, using that sweet tone when she was trying to reason with him.  “What about Ryan?  You told me that you and
him play together all the time.  Why don’t you invite him over for dinner this week?”

Toby’s eye grew wide, filled with tears and his lips began to quiver.  “He can’t come over,” he replied in a low voice.  “I asked him to and he said that he’s not allowed to play in a group home.  He said his mom doesn’t want him to get lice.”  At this last statement, Toby began to cry in earnest.  “He said that he’s not really supposed to play with me, even at school, but he does it anyway,” choked Toby, who was having difficulty talking at this point due to his wracking sobs.

Nobody could say anything.  What was there to say?  This was an old story and had happened to all of them at least once.  People just don’t get it.  They think that living in a group home means that the residents are sub-standard kids who are the cause of lice epidemics in schools and may even corrupt your children.  Even Robbie didn’t tease Toby about this, probably because it happened to him too.

Billy looked up at Sandy and could see that her lips were pursed white.  This meant that she was calmly waiting until she regained her temper.  Finally, she took a deep breath and smiled down at Toby.  “Well Tobe, I know how you feel,” she said, as he looked at her with wide eyes.  “You may not believe this, but I once had a friend who had to stop playing with me because my dad worked in the factories, and her dad was a fancy lawyer in the garden district.”  Sandy lowered her head and stated mischievously, “Her mother didn’t think I was a good influence.  So I ran home crying and told my mother and you
know what she said?  She said, ‘Sandy my darlin’, you’re going to have many friends in this life, but that little girl isn’t going to be one of them.  It’s not about how many friends you have, anyway.  If you have one true friend in this life, then you’re a lucky girl.”  

“So
, Toby, if this boy still wants to play with you, I think that says something about him, don’t you think?  And I think his mom will come around, you need to have faith and believe that what’s right will overcome all obstacles.”  She kissed Toby on the forehead, causing him to giggle and put a little blush in his cheeks.

That
was Sandy.  She may have been the strict one, but she always had a story or some kind of motherly advice to give when one of them was feeling sad or angry.  Even Robbie was not impervious to her caring and nurturing ways.  Billy sometimes wondered how true her stories were, but he knew that this one was.  There was a glimmer of hurt even after all of these years in her eyes.  Ya, that’s what made Sandy real, in some small way she knew how the kids felt.

Resident’s meeting was finally done and after saying goodnight to everyone, Billy went upstairs to settle for bed.  He wasn’t really an early sleeper; he just enjoyed the peace and solitude of being alone in his room. 

The meeting really got Billy thinking.  Toby was the baby; Aaron the brainiac and Robbie the tough guy.  Where did he fit in? What was his title, his role to play? 

Quite frankly, Billy thought that he was a little boring.  There was really nothing he was good at and made him stand out.  He was way too quiet, which usually meant that he was an easy target for others. 

Billy lay on his bed and looked out of his window into the night sky.  He didn’t know why, but he had always had this nagging feeling that he was meant to do something.  Then he would berate himself because he knew he wasn’t that special and to stop thinking such ridiculous thoughts. 

That
night was no different than any other.  The stars twinkled the way they do every night.  He could hear Sandy reading a story to Toby.  Robbie was throwing a ball against his bedroom wall.  Nothing ever changes, Billy thought.  Get with the program, kid, and just accept the way things are and you’ll be way happier.  These were Billy’s last thoughts as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

The next morning was a bright and sunny day, perfect for exploring the French Quarter.  Billy ran downstairs and was immediately struck with the pleasant aroma of pancakes and sausages.  Every Saturday morning, Sandy made the house a big breakfast and he always looked forward to this weekend ritual.

“Good morning, Sweetheart!’” drawled Sandy, as she flipped one of her famous buttermilk pancakes.  Billy sm
iled as she wiped her hands on her apron, but was unaware of the flour all over her face.

“Hey, Sandy, breakfast smells great.  Um, are you cool if I head out after breakfast and wander around the Quarter?” asked Billy, as he stuck a sausage in his mouth.

“Not at all, but make sure your room is clean and vacuum the carpets before you go.” Saturday morning always meant a great breakfast, but it also meant weekly chores.

As Billy dragged the vacuum into the living room, he stopped in his tracks.  Toby was sitting on the floor and what seemed to be half a bag of marshmallows stuffed into his tiny mouth.  He eagerly waved to Billy, who had to stop himself from laughing because the kid had white goop smeared all over his face and saliva dripping down his chin and onto the carpet.

“Toby, what are you doing?” Billy asked with laughter in his voice.

“Arugh rugh,” Toby grunted.

Just then Robbie came into the living room and he pulled a marshmallow out of the bag.   “Ok, Tobe, I know you can do one more,” Robbie said, as Toby clapped his hands and his eyes danced with glee. 

As Robbie pushed the last marshmallow into Toby’s overflowing mouth, a shout came from behind.  “What are you doing?  He could choke, Robbie!  Toby spit those out now!” Sandy commanded. 

Toby looked at Robbie, then Sandy and he shook his head.  “Now, Toby!” Sandy stated in a tone that meant time in his room if he didn’t relent.  Finally, he spit the gunk all over the table.

“Ahhh, come on, Sandy!  We’
re on the verge of breaking a world record, aren’t we, Tobe!”

Sandy stared down at Robbie, “Clean that up, sir,” she stated in a clipped tone.  “And you, you
ng man.  Put your coat on, Joe’s taking you to the store,” she said to Toby, as she walked back into the kitchen, her face a slight shade of red.

“That was awesome, buddy,” Robbie laughed, as he gave Toby a high-five.

Billy could hear Sandy say something to Joe in the kitchen and they both suddenly burst out laughing.  He couldn’t help but smile.  The truth was, that was Robbie actually trying to be a nice guy. 

Later, as Billy was finishing his breakfast, Joe and Toby walked through the front door holding a bag of groceries.

“My thanks, gentlemen,” called Sandy from the kitchen.  “Joe do you mind putting the fruit in the fridge.  Oh, and, Toby, get ready, your mom will be here soon.” At this announcement, Toby jumped for joy and ran upstairs to get ready for the focal point of his week.

Finally, Aaron decided to grace everyone with his presence.  As he plunked himself down, Billy stared at him in amazement.  The boy was sitting groggily at the kitchen table, his hair the usual mess and he was wearing what appeared to be clothes six sizes too small.

Joe walked into the room, stopped to stare at Aaron and began laughing so hard he had to lean against the wall to support himself.  “Oh my God, I love my job!  Sandy!  You need to see this!”

Sandy walked into the room while wiping her hands on a towel.  At seeing Aaron, she just rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.  “Seriously, Aaron, how does this happen?”

“What?” he said sleepily, as he looked down at himself.  He didn’t seem to notice that his shirt sleeves only covered his arms at the elbow and his pants just below the knee.

“Where did you get those clothes?”
Sandy demanded.

“From the basket in the hall, you didn’t finish my laundry.”

“Actually, I did, they’re in your dresser.  Those,” she said, as she gestured up and down, “are Toby’s clothes.”  At that, everyone began to laugh, even Sandy.  Billy knew that Aaron was definitely thin for his age, but this was ridiculous.

Aaron’s expression of confusion changed to one of understanding.  “So that’s why my underwear was too tight.  I was wondering why I had a perma-wedgie.”  Aaron smiled as if all was right in the world, pushed up his glasses and began piling pancakes onto his plate. 

Billy shook his head and laughed.  He definitely had to mentally bookmark that as a group home moment.

A few minutes later, Robbie came waltzing into the kitchen, slumped into a chair and proceeded to place three sausages in his mouth at once. 

“Robbie, I’m not in the mood to do the Hymelic maneuver today,” stated Joe darkly, as he dug into his own plate of breakfast.

“Yeah, leave some for everybody else, please and thank you,” added Aaron primly, watching with disgust as Robbie slowly attempted to chew his food. 

Robbie responded by opening his mouth and grinning so that Aaron got a glimpse of his food in the pre-digestive state.  He made sure to do it when Joe wasn’t looking, but of course, Sandy caught him. 

“Excuse me!  You can now wait until everyone else is done eating before you finish your own, mister.  Go start cleaning your room, thank you very much!  I’ll call you down when we’re done!” 

At this command, Robbie grabbed a fruit from the fruit bowl.  He then stomped up the stairs using only his heels so that everyone would know exactly how he felt about Sandy’s request. 

“Thanks a lot Indiana Jones wannabe!  Too bad you’re boring and you suck!” ranted Robbie, as he made his way to his bedroom.

Billy looked at Aaron through the corner of his eye.  He could see a subtle blush form on his cheeks.  But in true Aaron style, he just smiled, shook his head and resumed eating his breakfast. 

A typical morning in a not so typical household.
 

Billy put his coat and shoes on, yelled his goodbyes to everyone and began his trek into the heart and soul of New Orleans.

Billy strolled aimlessly through the streets of the French Quarter.  He enjoyed people watching and would immerse himself in the overall atmosphere of this exciting and sometimes chaotic section of town.  

Of course, he had to stop in the local skateboard shop and drool over the newest boards.  He didn’t have one of his own yet, but he was anticipating that his birthday in a few months would prove to be a fruitful one.  He dropped hints to Sandy at least every other day.  Although she pretended to not hear him, he continued to hope he’d get one.

Billy finally wandered into Jackson Square and as he watched an artist draw a portrait for some tourists, he noticed his favorite tour group walk by.  As usual, Billy was quickly caught up in a story about a local building that was supposedly haunted. 

That was when Billy saw him for the first time. 

He was short, just a few inches taller than Billy and on the slender side.  He had thinning white hair and was dressed like an old British man.  He wore tailored tan slacks, a crisp white lawn shirt and a tweed vest and coat.  The look was completed with a pocket watch hanging from his jacket pocket and a dark mahogany cane at his side.  But these things were not what drew Billy’s attention to him.  He possessed a regal and confident bearing that was intriguing. 

As Billy continued to stare at this odd, but interesting old man, the man himself turned to meet his gaze.  He was struck by the intensity of the man’s eyes, which were a startling and brilliant cobalt blue. 
Billy was immediately filled with the feeling that he knew this man, but he just shook his head and forced himself to focus on the tour guide.

Billy continued to follow the group; however, he couldn’t help but look at the man from the corner of his eye.  The strange gentlemen appeared to be completely engrossed in wh
at the guide was saying.  He only moved when he would take out his pocket watch to check the time.  Billy thought it was strange that he would do this every few minutes.

The group continued to move down the street and listen to the stories and facts about the many buildings that lined it.  Billy was particularly captivated by a story about two young lovers, which of course involved magic and an untimely death.  He momentarily forgot the odd little man in the crowd. 

Suddenly, he heard a voice with a sharp British accent, coming from behind him. “Oh, what rubbish!” it said, followed by a quiet and merry laugh.  Billy quickly turned his head, only to stare at the very face he had been spying on for the past half an hour.

“What stories!  But I must say, I do enjoy them!” said the little man, the laughter still in his voice.  He was looking at the guide when he said this, but was unmistakably talking to Billy.  “How lucky you are to enjoy these tours regularly and such cheap entertainment,” said the man, as he gave Billy a quick
wink.  He turned to meet the young boy’s gaze, again startling Billy with the intensity of his eyes.  Yet, he saw no malice in their depths. 

Billy began to blush due to the fact that he regularly tagged behind these tour groups without actually paying
the fee to join them.  He quickly replied, “Excuse me, sir.  I have to go find my parents.”

Billy was already moving away as the little man spoke once again.  “I have noticed you converse with no one.  You live in this great city, I dare say and make regular jaunts to this place on your own.” 

Although Billy felt a familiarity with this man, rule number one was no talking to strangers.  He again started to exit the crowd when he heard that clear and crisp voice say, “I have traveled far to see you, Billy Townsend.  We have an appointment to keep.”

Billy again looked into the man’s eyes and saw that this was no joke.  He was mesmerized by the steely will of purpose penetrating from his gaze.  However, the man’s stare quickly reverted back to its original countenance of kindness and playfulness.
  Billy felt momentarily captured by those eyes, but forced himself to tear his gaze away and began to quickly rush through the crowd. 

What
the? Billy thought as he stood at the entrance of an alley way, watching the man continue with the tour as if nothing had happened. 

He didn’t feel fear exactly, but he did feel confused and a little shaken up.  How did that man know my name?  Who was he?  Billy decided that the man meant him no harm; he even felt an affinity
towards him.  He again wondered about the sure feeling that he knew him, almost like an uncle or a grandfather. 

Billy began to walk in the opposite direction of the tour and decided he should avoid the little man.  He was only allowed in the Quarter alone because Sandy trusted that he didn’t talk with strangers.  And boy was this one strange! 

Billy couldn’t help again wonder how the little man knew his name.  He knew that bizarre things happen in the US capital of weird and forced himself to shrug it off.  He decided to continue his walk and forget the whole thing happened.  Of course, the memory nagged at the edges of his mind as he continued down the street.

Billy decided that the best distraction would be a visit to his favorite book shop located in the heart of the square.  ‘Yuri’s Used Book Store’ was owned by a short, round Lithuanian man, and his store was as chaotic as he was. 

Billy walked through the front doors, once again amazed by how many books could be shoved into such a small space.  There were bookcases everywhere.  But that didn’t include the hundreds, maybe thousands of books that were stacked up on walls and spilling into the aisles.  There were books of every shape and color piled on Yuri’s desk and all along its sides. 

The small shop had a slight moldy smell, but that didn’t bother Billy.  These pungent aromas made him think of places and people he had never met, times that he had never experienced.  He always felt this odd sense of expectation when he ventured over the little shop’s threshold, hoping to find a book into that world. 

“Billy, my boy, haven’t seen you since, oh I don’t know, three days ago?” 

Yuri yelled this greeting while attempting to hold at least twenty books in his short and chubby arms.  A few fell down and the little shop
keeper bent over to retrieve them.  Billy quickly rushed over, picked them up and placed them on Yuri’s desk. 

“Hi, Yuri, anythin
g new come in?”

“Why, I’m holding a few gems right here
in my arms!” Yuri enthusiastically replied, as he dumped the rest of the books on top of his desk. 

His eyes immediately lit on one in particular.  “Well, I just got in some Jules Verne.  Now there’s a true visionary!” he said, while shaking the book in his hands. 
“‘20,000 Leagues under the Sea!’  Every young lad has to read this one!  What with Giant squids and nuclear subs!  What adventure?”  Yuri was really getting started.  He pulled a bandana out of his shirt pocket and began to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead.

“Oh,
here’s one, ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’!  Revenge, treasure, and a prison break!  I just love these old stories.  They don’t write them like they used to, I tell ya.”  Yuri held these two books in his hands and gazed at them fondly.  He seemed to be remembering the time he had read them himself as a young boy. 

Billy took this moment to wander over to the science fiction section.  Well, the giant mass of books that Yuri told him was the science
fiction section.  But he wasn’t really into this genre and he was in the mood for fantasy today.