Time's Up

ould you believe how much junk is up here? Betsey Sinclair tossed a dirty stack of papers to her older brother, Alex.

"Probably," he answered with a wry smile. He rummaged around in a small cardboard box.

"Didn't you find the decorations yet?" Betsey turned to her brother. He raised a wad of colored shoelaces and waved them. Betsey sighed. The next day was their parent's 25th anniversary, and all they could find was junk. Alex picked idly at the shoelaces.

"It'd be so much easier just to have seen what their anniversary was like 25 years ago," Alex informed his sister. He dug under the old bureau for a moment then resurfaced raising a stack of worn photographs, showing Betsey his find.

"What? Are we going to write a term paper on some old pictures you found?" Betsey asked her brother, annoyed.

"Easy, Betsey. There must be an anniversary photo taken in here somewhere." Alex thumbed through the stack quickly while Betsey settled down with a dusty magazine. "Let's see now_we have your wedding pictures, your basic black and white pictures, great-grandparents, a-ha! Anniversary pictures!" Alex thought to himself. He held the small color photo up to the dim light source that barely filled the room. The picture was taken poorly. It was slightly blurred and off center. Alex could just barely make out his parents off in the corner, reading a map of Europe, where they celebrated their first anniversary. A small British castle was set behind them, and in the photo they were smiling and waving. Even with such a poor snapshot, he could almost immediately pick out the features both he and Betsey shared with their parents. Betsey had gray eyes like their father, and dark blond hair like their mother. Alex had brown eyes like their mother and black hair like their father. Both teenagers were quite tall for their ages of 17 and 16, Alex then Betsey. "Hey Bets, I found a photo from their anniversary. All we need is a_uh_European, atmosphere, or something. And I think_hey, what are you reading?" Alex questioned his sister. Betsey looked up, preoccupied.

"Hmm?" She murmured.

"That," Alex gestured toward her magazine. "You haven't been listening to one word I've said, Bets. What are you reading?" Betsey flipped the page that was opened shut.

"Well, I was just reading this great article about a man who's like a human time machine! He says he can concentrate on a picture from the past and transport himself into it. He can go to any time he wishes, just from when the photo was taken, and he's able to be seen and heard as though it's any old day!" Betsey exclaimed. Alex rolled his eyes and held up her magazine.

"National Exploiter? Junk! Like everything else up here," Alex uttered in disgust. He dropped the magazine disdainfully and sat down with the anniversary picture.

"It is not junk!" Betsey protested. Her sight fell on the picture. "What`s that?" She asked. Alex sighed.

"I've only been trying to tell you this whole time. It's one of mom and dads' anniversary pictures." He rolled his eyes. Betsey stood up and put her hand on her hip.

"You roll your eyes one more time, mister, and you will be sorry!" Alex rolled his eyes for good measure, and Betsey threw her arms up in defeat. "But Al, wouldn't it be neat to travel back in time and see mom and dad so young and on their anniversary?" Alex groaned.

"You and your fables, Betsey! Spare me." Betsey looked insistent.

"Please, Alex? Please Please Please Please?" Betsey whimpered. Alex was a sucker for her whimper.

"Sure, whatever," He sighed and allowed himself to be dragged to an oak trunk. Betsey ran a hand nervously through her hair.

"Okay, where's the picture_the anniversary picture, I mean. Al? Where is it? Oh! Should we pack lightly maybe? Should we leave a note for mom and dad?" Betsey babbled. "Dear Mom and Dad," Alex raised his voice to a mocking high palmetto and continued, "Betsey, that's me, and Alex have decided to wish ourselves back into a photograph taken for your first anniversary. We should be home in time for dinner! Love ya'! Bye! Love, Betsey and Alex." Alex laughed. "Classic, Betsey, classic!" Betsey stood now with both hands on her hips.

"Come on, Alex, this is serious!" With that she bounded around the room and returned only moments later with a disposable camera, a few dollar bills, a dark hooded cloak and a armload of change

"For the European trains," Betsey explained. She deposited a handful of the coins in my palm, including 3 gold amusement park tokens, and handed me the cape.

"What's the cape for?" Alex wanted to know.

"We should stay in the shadows and not be seen," Betsey explained with a laugh, as though this were common. She pocketed the camera and her money. Alex draped the cloak around himself and snuck up behind Betsey.

"I VANT TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD!" He cried with a fake vampire accent. Betsey jumped. "Stop fooling around, and come back to the trunk." When Betsey was satisfied with their positions, she snatched up the photo Alex held. "Hey!" He complained.

"Shush!" Betsey commanded in a whisper. Alex rolled his eyes to the floor. "I saw that!" Betsey pointed at Alex.

"SHUSH!" Alex yelled, then smiled sweetly at Betsey. She shut her eyes and appeared to be counting to ten. A minute later, she opened her eyes and returned the sweet smile. "All right, Alex, here we go." Betsey intertwined her hand through Alex's.

"Okay, the article said that the man focused his eyes on the picture and just wished and wished and wished to travel into it." Betsey held up the photo and gazed at it intently. She nudged her brother. He, too, stared at the picture. "Just keep looking at it_.look into it. Find your way into it_.Just keep looking at it, look into it_.." Betsey repeated over and over. Strangely, Alex felt as though he was flying backwards. He felt very dizzy and off-balance. Still, he kept squinting at the picture. He could see his parents, their faces, their waving hands. All of a sudden, the castle in the background filled the space around him.

"Help!" he cried. "Help!" Everything was coming in closer. Their parents, their faces, their waving hands, and then the castle once again. Until everything went black.

I sat up. Was that my own voice calling out for Betsey? Couldn't be. She was probably still reading that silly magazine of hers.

"Alex?" I could hear her muffled voice. I opened my eyes to darkness. "Maybe," I thought, "My eyes will adjust." I waited a few moments, but they didn't.

"Betsey? Turn on the light, will you?" I swiped the air for hopes of finding the light cord, but to no avail. "Must have gotten caught up in the nails on the ceiling again," I muttered. Slowly, I stood up and padded my way across the floor. It felt a little unsteady, and the room smelled a bit too much like old fruit. "Betsey, did you forget to throw out your apple core?" I called out. "Because if you did_Ow!" I knocked my head against something cold. "Dumb window!" I thought angrily. I gingerly touched the sore bump on my head and grimaced. I reached out to open the window, but instead I found no window. I let my arm graze the space in front of me. I could tell there was a small candle. I dug into my back pocket and retrieved my old lighter. I flicked it a few times until flame remained there. I located the candle and lowered my flame to light the wick. Now light flickered around the room. "Oh my God!" I flattened up against a wall. "Please don't let this be happening, oh please oh please!" I pleaded in a frightened whisper. New light danced off strange new walls. Browned fruit hung, lining the full length of the room in layers. The wooden floor boards were unstable and rotted, and a stale odor rose up around me.

"Alex?" I heard Betsey's voice muffled in the corner. I noticed a pile of meat scraps part, and a chill went down my spine. A familiar blond head poke up from within. Betsey's gray eyes searched the room quickly. She turned to face me, shaking.

"Betsey? Are you sure we're in 1961?" Thump Thump THUMP!

"What was that?" Betsey cried.

"An earthquake?" I guessed. We listened more intensely. Thump Thump THUMP!!!

"Whatever it is, it's getting closer!" Betsey sounded frantic.

"I think someone's coming up here. If here is `up' at least." I grabbed Betsey's arm, lifting her to a standing position. "Betsey, look, I don't know what we did, but someone's coming! We have to go!" I said softly in Betsey's ear.

"Oh! Alex, look!" Betsey sucked in her breath. A small trapdoor was being unlatched from the outside. Slowly it raised higher, then higher_

"Betsey, quickly!" I took Betsey's hand and dove into a pile of rotten fruit.

"Who hath trespassed? Speaketh now! I command thee!" A male voice bellowed. Through my position in the fruit, I could make out the trap door as it was flung open. I had been preparing for someone, anyone I knew to pop through that door and yell, "Surprise!" But no. What popped through that door was something I would not have expected in a million years. A man now stood aloft the trap door. A large beret type of hat plumed a large feather from it's side, and it sat smartly upon his head. His frilled white shirt was tucked neatly into his brown velvet breeches and thin white tights. His pointed shoes were heeled and shiny. He held a small crossbow in his huge hand. He crossed the room in long strides. I noticed Betsey poked her hand up through the fruit.

"Betsey!" I whispered loudly. She grabbed at a string of apples, sending a row of them rolling in all directions. The man jumped and pointed his crossbow accusingly at the fruit rows. He cursed under his breath. A moment later, we heard the sounds of the door opening, closing, and latching. We waited for at least another full minute before we sat up slowly. We stared at one another, wide-eyed in disbelief. "This can't be," I murmured. Betsey leaped to her feet.

"It's a dream, Al! A dream!" Satisfied with her decision, she began drawing the curtains of a heavy wooden window frame. She set down the sheet of wood blocking the light and stood at the now open window. I crossed my arms over my chest and shivered. I joined her at the window.

"If this is a dream, we won't die if we jump?" she asked me, staring at the ground about two stories down. "I suppose not. Let me guess. We're jumping?" Betsey nodded. I gulped and looked down at the dense mass of foliage and plants. Even for a dream, that was a long way down.

"Okay, Alex. On three. One, Two_" I grabbed Betsey and jumped.

"Threeeeeeee!!" I sounded on the way down. I dropped like a stone, Betsey attached. She shrieked as she went. "Ooomph!!" I uttered. The bushes weren't as comfortable as they looked from two stories up, and I rubbed my sore back. Betsey didn't seem phased in the least. The bushes had broken her fall completely. We raised to our feet cautiously. The scene before us was so unbelievable, we were taken in by it. Speechlessly, we gazed at the merchants pushing wooden carts of goods, noble people regally outfitted, dirt-streaked beggars on church steps, common people in simple clothing walking down the dirt roads loaded down with dirty sacks and boxes. "Betsey_"I whispered hoarsely. She didn't respond. I followed her gaze to a series of small shops. A blacksmith, a schoolhouse, some tiny houses. I glanced to my left and I had to gasp. I mean, there was a castle right smack dab on the edge of the village. A grand castle with a sturdy drawbridge and majestic stone towers reaching up into the sky. "Betsey? I think_ Betsey?" I glanced around, and noticed her by a merchant's cart. I jogged over. She was looking at some items with her hand full of dimes, nickels, and quarters. "Betsey, what are you doing? These merchant carts are a gimmick! It's not quality merchandise," I found myself saying. I smacked my hand against my forehead. "Quality merchandise? What the hell am I talking about?" A small man appeared by the cart. He was balding and plump. He wore a shirt with puffy sleeves and sported tight gold pants. I could feel his beady little eyes taking us in. I doubted he'd ever seen two teenagers in blue jeans and tee-shirts before, and I pulled my cloak about me tighter.

"Good morrow, all," The little man bowed slightly. "Doth thou need clothing? Bread? Jewels?" He held out his hand. On each fat finger was a crudely crafted jewelled ring. He pulled back a dingy curtain and pointed out red and brown velvet breeches, frilled shirts, short coats, thin cotton bodices, cloaks, and gowns in red and lavender. He opened a trunk filled with rolls, bread, and biscuits. My mouth watered, and I realized just how hungry I was. "I am Dorrin. What doeth others call thee?" The man asked us. "I think he wants to know our names," Betsey whispered to me.

"I am_.Jandus, and this is my sister, um, Clairee.

"Good morrow, Jandus and Clairee." Dorrin smiled and shook our hands with a strong grip. "Something perhaps, for the lady?" He removed a thin red gown from one rack, and a lump of hard bread from another. He tugged at his ruby colored ring and placed it on top of the bundle. "Sixpence silver pieces?" Betsey dug in her pocket and returned with 2 gold tokens.

"Doeth thee accepteth, uh, goldeth?" She stuttered.

"Ah! For such beauty I shall accept!" Dorrin slid the bundle into a bag and made a point of touching her hands while giving it to her. I could barely keep myself from laughing. I gently pried my sister away from Dorrin's grasp and waved. He sat there making goo-goo eyes at Betsey's retreating figure.

"I think somebody has a crush on Betsey!" She just laughed and told me she wanted to try on her new things. She handed me the bread lump and sneaked inside a tiny wooden wagon. As I waited, I wondered what had gone wrong, How could we have ended up here after concentrating on the picture so hard? Unbelievable. Betsey and I would have to try to go back. I gazed down at the bread lump. It was completely hardened and freshly powdered. I took a bite, and tears came to my eyes. It was hard! But it soon filled my empty stomach. I stretched my arms. "Where's Betsey?" I wondered aloud. I glanced at her wagon. It was gone! After frantically searching for the missing wagon, I noticed it slowly beginning it's climb for the castle. I dashed after it but soon lost sight. I grabbed a woman holding a baby. She clutched her child tighter. "Ma'am, where does that path lead?" She followed my gaze to the path on the edge of the village.

"It leads up to the castle of His Majesty," she said cautiously. She drew the baby tighter to her chest. I bowed slightly as Dorrin had done. Then I hurried up the dirt path leading to the castle's drawbridge.

"Halt!" Commanded a uniformed man. A coarse spear blocked my path to the castle. The man's cold black eyes studied me. "What is thy bidding of thy castle?" I peeked frantically around him hoping to see the wagon. Another spear sliced by my face and I jumped.

"Is there a problem, Conan?" Another man was gripping the spear which had so closely sliced my nose clear off. He seemed of greater importance, and Conan seemed to straighten up a bit.

"Well, Adrian, this little one seems to think high enough of himself to stroll right up the path to his Majesty's castle," Conan sneered. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Well, you see, sir, me and my sister were joking around and we got zapped back to this time period. And she started talking to a nice fellow called Dorrin who liked her. So he let her buy some things with two gold tokens from an amusement park. So she bought a red gown and some stale bread and a pretty ring and she went to change behind a wagon and the wagon went there and I need to get her," I finished in one breath. Conan and Adrian stared at each other for a moment. The next thing I knew, Conan's spear fell and he was steadying himself against Adrian and all the while laughing hysterically. Adrian's spear dropped out of his and, too, and nicked my ankle. I yelped and grabbed it in a painful dance. "Darn spears!" I thought angrily. Conan poked Adrian and gestured at me. Their faces were beat red from laughter. They looked at my funny hop and laughed even harder. Adrian stopped for a long moment as though a new recognition was dawning upon him. He steadied Conan and spoke up.

"Thou art his Majesty's new jester? No?" Between my cut and their laughter, it took me a moment to realize they had stopped.

"What?" I gave them a blank look.

" The new jester" he repeated. "His Majesty requested a new jester. Thou art the jester, correct?" "Think! Think!" I commanded myself. "On one, hand, my sister was there, and I could easily find her this way. On the other hand, what is this `majesty' guy finds out I'm not his jester?" I stared at the ground.

"Well?" Conan's wheezy voice caught me from my train of thought.

"Um, yes. I am the `majesty guys' new jester," I managed to say.

"Oh! Another joke, I see. The `majesty guy.' How divine!" Conan chuckled. " Did Thou hear that, Adrian?" Adrian nodded and bore his eyes into Conans'. Conan retrieved their spears and cleared his throat. " Er, his majesty awaits thee". Conan shoved his stubby fingers into his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. A fancy wagon led by a well-groomed brown horse pulled up beside me. A small curtain was drawn by Adrian, revealing a cramped little space with an equally little stool. I plunked down on it on the curtain was shut with a little wave from Adrian.

"GIDDY-UP!" A loud voice sounded, and the snap of a whip. A moment later the wagon rolled along, and me on my little stool just bounced right along. Five minutes later, I heard gravel crunch under the thick floorboards. I could feel the wagon go over bumps continuously right after that, and I assumed we were crossing the massive drawbridge I had seen earlier. From behind, I heard a window open, and an old woman handed me a strange costume.

"Put this on, child," she cackled, and the window slammed shut. I was left holding a loud one-pieced array of the brightest colors I have ever seen. I stripped off what clothes I had on, and feeling rather silly, I slipped into the itchy material and buttoned up the back. Jingle-jingle! Jingle-jingle! "Great," I thought. "It has bells." My head piece was huge and heavy, and I swayed under it's weight. It formed four banana-shaped ridges with, yes, jingling bells on each one. A small round mirror hung just above the curtain, and I peeked into it. I could see my blushing face reflecting right back at me. I could see my banana hat, my skin-tight spandex suit gleaming with multicolored hues and ruffles at my collar, hands, and feet. I felt like melting through the floorboards. The wagon stopped abruptly, and I flew into the wall. I heard snitches of conversation, and the crap of a whip. Now I was thrown against the opposite wall. I was a human Ping-Pong ball. My pride was all that was wounded, though. The wagon moved stealthily along, and this time, the ground felt like cobble stone. Slowly, the wagon eased to a stop.

"BRING FORTH MY JESTER!" A powerful voice thundered. I gingerly peeled back the curtain and drew in my breath. This place was about a quarter mile long on each side, garnished with solid gold trim and pure white stone walls. A long silk spun red carpet stretched to the end of the room, where a closed drawbridge discouraged any idea of visitors. I noticed a massive throne area of pure gold and blood red. The window slid open once again, and the lady's face appeared where if had left before.

"Hey! Get me out of here!" I whispered loudly. The woman's bony hand lifted to the curtain, then she shut the window once again. "Hey! What gives?" I pried at the window and tried to claw it open. No such luck.

"My jester! AT ONCE! Where are you, you blithering idiot? You stupid fool?" The powerful voice went off like dynamite. I pushed through the curtains, almost shredding them in my trembling hands.

"Who are you calling a fool, you slimy bastard!" I found myself face to face with some man of obvious power, seated upon the grandest throne I could ever have imagined. After staring at him for a moment, I realized who he was. I couldn't believe it. We had studied this guy in school last year! He definitely looked like the pictures of Edward II. If I was right, this plump balding little man before me was one of the weakest Kings England had ever seen. From 1307-1327, He let his personal problems with his ex-wife Isabella get in the way of his power, and ended up being dethroned by Isabella. He was known for the suffering of others in his behalf, and being as intolerant as possible. I shuddered. "I uh, didn't mean_what I said just now," I stammered. I gazed at my feet to avoid his glare. Not much better. The floor around my shoes were lined with sinister gargoyles leading to the throne area. I hardened my stomach in case someone would decide to give me a blow there for what I said, and I held my breath. After several tense moments went by, I looked up. Edward's face looked as though it was about to burst. It turned from dead white to blazing red. He opened his mouth. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and balled my fists together.

"BRAVO! BRAVO!" The king announced cheerfully.

"Huh?" I thought, and my head snapped up. I looked at him , stupefied. To my amazement, he seemed to be waiting for something. He watched me in anticipation. I cocked my head to each side, and noticed everyone else was just staring at me with encouraging grins and a glazed look in their eyes. And then it dawned on me. "I am the court jester," I thought with a smile. I stood there, happy with my discovery for a full minute. "Entertain them, dummy!" A voice sounded in my head. The only thing I could think of to do was run around and do somersaults , which I hadn't done since I was, like, three or something. So I ran around and did somersaults. Edward clapped and sat forward in his chair. I pretended I was a mime climbing a rope, slipping and slipping each time. I felt so_used and foolish. I decided I never wanted to be a clown when I grew up. The audience was filled with jaunty laughter and incessant smiles. I was really hamming it up, now, really getting into the feel of things. I even attempted a few handsprings, and made a big deal when I tumbled to the ground in mock pain. When I thought we'd all seen enough, I bowed to the king and pretended to trip. He smacked his kneecap and roared with laughter that must have been building up inside of him. Not sure what to do, I stood up and brushed myself off and stood up. Edward called over an man with skin like rotten apples and hair snowy white. He was dressed in a clean white robe, and his thin hands were clasped together. He whispered something in the strange man's ear, and they both laughed and the old man glanced at me. The old man called me over, and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Havok mventop, shallok paru," he repeated those words while tracing invisible patterns in front of me. Smoke seeped out from some unknown source, and I heard a huge POP! I felt myself spiraling downward to the floor. I heard a hush fall over the spectators. I squinted at a girl in a royal blue gown that flared above her feet. A girl with golden necklaces adorning her neck. A girl who's dark blond hair, now swept lovingly into an elaborate coil, and twinkling gray eyes were very familiar.

"Alex!" The girl, my sister, screamed. "Betsey!" I squeaked. Squeaked? I found that in the clearing cloud, everything seemed larger than it was a moment ago. My ear itched, and I reached my hand to scratch it. "Ah!" I squealed. Squealed? Not again. I felt something claw me when I scratched my ear. I hope I had remembered to cut that stupid hangnail off this morning! I lifted my hand_and stood in shock. I had no hand. I had a paw. A paw complete with tiny, pointed nails and soot-colored fur. My nose quivered, and I could smell things I had never been able to smell before. The king, for one, smelled like old food and soap. I could even smell the dirt on the commoner's shoes from here. I turned around and patted a long tail nimbly with my paw. I was sitting in the remains of my jester costume.

"Good riddance!" I thought to myself happily. "Never-mind the costume, I'm a mouse!" I murmured, my eyes darted left and right. I made a mad dash for Betsey, but the old man was too quick. He pinched the nape of my neck and lifted me painfully to his skeletal hand. I sunk my two largest teeth into his palm, creating two neat dots of blood, side by side. He cried out in distress and threw me down. Suddenly, the ground looked closer and closer. I prepared for the worst. Out of nowhere, a hand broke my fall, and scooped me away from danger. I looked up at my rescuer. "Betsey!" I cheeped. I had never been so glad to see someone in my life! The old man began to quickly sketch imaginary patterns into the air before her. "Betsey! Look out! I shrieked. She whipped out her disposable camera and snapped a picture in the old man's face. A brilliant flash went off from the camera, and he wailed and threw himself to the floor in cover. Betsey aimed her camera at King Edward and clicked the button. The flash went off and he, too, screamed and hid behind his own throne. Guards began to surround her, and she held up the camera with her finger poised over the button. They immediately dispensed. She ran with me into a small room, and latched the door. We could hear the outraged royals trying to come in. Betsey set me down and sighed. She took out her wallet, and withdrew a recent photo of me and her standing together in our attic last week. "Betsey, how did you_" I began.

"No time for questions, I'll tell you later. For now, concentrate!" She held the picture in front of us. "Think forward in time to us, Alex! Think hard, and concentrate. Put yourself in the picture_In 1997_" Betsey whispered. The picture swelled up until it was the only thing I saw. Then everything went black.

Was that my own voice calling out for Betsey? Or was it another illusion. I sat up to_our attic! Betsey sat up beside me. We looked at each other. "We're back!" We danced around the room and laughed. "What happened?" I asked Betsey. She shook her head.

"I don't know, but it's pretty unbelievable, isn't it? You as a mouse, me as a Queen_" Alex interrupted.

"A Queen? You didn't tell me about that part. Was that when you were in that costume?" Betsey nodded.

"Apparently, King Edward was very fond of his wife, Isabella, until they had a disagreement a little while ago. He was in search of a Queen, and he saw me. I was just playing along with it." I had an itch on my ear. I went to scratch it. "Ah!" I screamed. Betsey looked at me in fear.

"I'm not a mouse!" I felt like laughing. So I did, along with Betsey. A few weeks later, the disposable camera's pictures came back. A picture of our vacation, some of her friends, and no evil sorcerers. It was kind of a relief, and kind of strange. Something you knew happened, but there's no proof to make you think you're not crazy.

"Hey, Betsey, Alex, come here a minute!" Their dad held a huge European book on his lap. They had decided to get their parents a book on England, where they celebrated their 1st anniversary, and would soon be spending their 25th anniversary the following weekend, another gift from their children.

"What's up, dad?" Alex strode into the kitchen, followed by Betsey.

"Would you believe this? It says here, under King Edward II's reign, a court jester apparently caused mayhem to him and his new Queen Clairee. She then apparently took out a `Strange magical device which held a blinding flash of light.' I never remembered reading that. Do you?" Their father closed the textbook and took off his reading glasses.

"No, Dad, I don't remember reading that," Alex said with a wry smile.

"Maybe you should have your eyes checked, dad. I never remembered reading that either," Betsey piped in. They looked at one-another and laughed. Their dad sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"I never will understand you kids."

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