As you'll recall in last week's episode of Trapped in Time the boys were about to have breakfast, yum! Wonder if Doll ever gave in and ate a bug? Let's find out! Then don't forget to visit all the other Wednesday Briefers, whose links can be found at the end of this post!
Trapped in Time #12
“I don’t suppose you have any bacon?” I ask hopefully. Charlie gives me a confused look, and Vittorio whispers that the poor creature is a vegetarian, and that if any prehistoric pigs exist in this point in time, the odds of find them and getting them to roast themselves for our benefit are slim to none.
Is it very wrong of me to hope we find a little schwein, and that perhaps a bolt of lightning…
Breakfast is done, and I’ve managed to avoid adding bugs to my diet, at least for now—too bad Myron can’t say the same; he’s looking decidedly green, but I have to hand it to him, he hung in there and took it like a man.
I’m sorry, that image is wrong on so many levels… I’d like to erase that from my memory… now.
My stomach is indignant and not being shy about letting me know it’s unhappy that there’s been no sign of any wurst. Not bratwurst, or knackwurst, or bockwurst or blutwurst; not even leberwurst, which my mother makes herself and is very delicious! No sign of meat of any kind, and I’m craving it in the worst possible way.
But on the brighter side, we’re going to get my penny farthing, for apparently the spot where it was last seen lies along the route that we must travel to get to the Professor. Or so Charlie says. And as we are strangers in a strange land, it is only reasonable that we trust to this native-born… man… in order to get the lay of the land.
Vittorio and I clean up the remains of the meal. Just because we’re trapped in time does not mean we need not maintain our high standards as regards cleanliness and orderliness. It is ingrained in me, and he has learned it from me. We gather everything together that we shall require for our journey. Charlie is unsure how far away the Professor is, and he has no understanding of measurement that he can put into any terms that we can relate to.
There is very little to carry, I’m afraid. We have the clothes on our back, and some food which we are taking with us, just to be sure of eating along the way. Vittorio—my very clever lover—has taken some of the larger leaves and formed a makeshift travel bag which we can take turns carrying.
Just as we are about to depart into the unknown, suddenly a strange creature drops from the trees.
“Snakes!” Myron screams, instantly flinging his arms over his head in a protective gesture. As if that would even stop a snake, if he wished to attack?
Being calmer, Vittorio and I watch the bundle of fur as it clambers up Charlie’s leg, chittering in a high-pitched squeal.
“Calm down, Myron, it’s not a snake, it’s a monkey,” I tell him; he’s quivering more than a bowl full of lime Jell-o.
Hmmm… could this be Charlie’s… wife? Why I think that, I don’t know. There’s nothing inherently female in this primate, and I think Charlie’s voice was just as screechy as this one’s is.
Charlie and the other chimp exchange a few “words” in their native tongue before Charlie walks the newcomer over toward the still shaking Myron. He says something in chimp, points to Myron. The monkey screeches again, its voice rising at least an octave.
“Myron,” Charlie addresses his lover. “This is…” Another word I can’t understand, but obviously one that refers to the monkey in his arms. “She is my sister,” he adds.
Ah… so much for my theory that monkey Charlie has a mate. Other than Myron, that is.
“Sister?” Myron quivers, but I can see he’s growing a little bolder now, looking between Charlie and the monkey.
“Yes, my sister. She’d like to come with us. Do you think you can make her like me?” He sounds very hopeful, placing a lot of trust in someone whose skills with a wand are negligible at best, and often dangerous.
“You want me to do what?”
Vittorio and I trade glances. Just as Myron pulls out his wand, we move together with one purpose. I restrain Myron’s arms and Vittorio takes his piece of wood away. It’s for his own good, really it is, as well as ours.
“I am sorry, Charlie,” Vittorio apologizes, “but your sister is welcome to come as she is. Maybe the Professor can help her when we find him?”
Assuming Charlie doesn’t change back in the meantime, I can’t help but think. We’ve got no real ideal of the stability of any of these spells he’s “cast.” In fact, we might just find ourselves back where we started without a moment’s notice. Best not to tempt fate.
Charlie doesn’t seem overly upset. He chatters to his sister, and then she chatters back, before she leaps from Charlie’s arms into Myron’s, and plants a big kiss on his cheek.
Runs in the family, does it?
Myron seems a bit unnerved, but he takes it in stride, all things considered.
“You should give Charlie’s sister a name,” Vittorio suggests. Yes, something we can all pronounce would be nice.
Myron looks flustered. Perhaps anything to do with the opposite sex is beyond his ability to deal with. But at last, he says, “Mary.”
I understand immediately. He’s just named her after Mary Pickford, America’s Sweetheart. Good choice. Vittorio vocally agrees with me. He reaches out to the newly christened monkey, and introduces himself, offering his hand, which she takes and licks, producing giggles from me.
Well, that’s all settled, now we are really ready to go.
Charlie and Myron take the lead, with Mary clinging to Myron. I guess she has become attached to him in the short duration of their acquaintance. Charlie and Myron are holding hands. Vittorio and I follow them, our hands likewise engaged.
We’re going to see the Professor. Maybe he can find us a way home?
to be continued
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Michael Mandrake m/m
MA Church m/m
Until next time, take care!