Part 6 (1/2)

Dad got to his feet and went into the hallway, obviously knowing where the phone was kept.

Alice stared at the pictures on the wall and started to get up.

aDonat,a I warned.

aBut theyare Mandelbrot views!a she hissed in obvious astonishment.

aCoincidentally, I think. I hope. Clara painted them and sheas a bit sensitive. I imagine some Cubist must have criticized them.a Alice had been fascinated even more than I when the Mandelbrot Set became famous in the late Eighties. She had programmed the lab workstation herself to investigate it at ever-increasing levels of detail and magnification. Now she crossed her arms and glared at me. aYou havenat been back long enough!a aHuh? Long enough for what?a aDidnat you say you arrived about six weeks ago? You havenat had time to describe it and criticize a painter to such accuracy.a aNo, of course I havenat. What are you talking about, Alice?a She pointed to one of the paintings. aThat view is from what I call the ab.u.t.t crack,a a quarter of the way up the rim, at magnification 2000 or so. Itas identical to the printout that has hung on the wall of my lab office for the last ten years. You should remember it, aside from the colors, which are arbitrary. I t.i.tled it Aladdinas Slipper. You stared at it often enough.a By G.o.d, she was right! Now that she mentioned it, I recalled that picture. This one, except for the color scheme, seemed identical a” as closely as memory can tell with something so complicated as a Mandelbrot view. I stared from the painting back to Alice. aBut how could that be?a She made a disgusted face. aI suppose itas possible in principle that someone with enough dedication, whoas willing to devote a lifetime to the task, might create those scenes without a computer. The math is simple enough, but the calculation is astronomical, and thatas no exaggeration!a She chuckled wryly. aDo we dare to question her about it?a aWhy not?a I asked thoughtlessly.

aBecause how do we know about Mandelbrot?a Just then Clara returned with two gla.s.ses of lemonade and handed one to Alice with a smile. When she offered me the other, she leaned down slightly and gave me a stare, which I returned guilelessly. She then retreated to an armchair that faced us with her eyes still on me. aIt seems youall have another companion for your visits next week, Timmy. Iam certain we shall have a very enjoyable time.a She turned her attention to the girl. aAlice, youall be staying with me for awhile. I hope you wonat be too bored.a aOh, I donat think so, Clara.a She caught herself. aI mean, Mrs. Edgeworth. You have such a fine house here, and your yard is so large. It should take me days to explore it all. And then all those books!a She waved at the impressive bookcases. aI must inspect them too.a aThe library has many more, Alice, but you may not find them interesting. Theyare mostly on scientific subjects. They are my late husbandas collection.a aIam good at science,a Alice responded like a boasting child.

aTim,a my dad interrupted from the entrance of the living room, awould you come here for a moment?a I got up and left the room. Dad pulled me aside.

aThe police were at our house this morning,a he whispered. aAlice has been reported missing and your address was found among her things in Chicago. They want to talk to you.a

Chapter 5: Clara.

A police car stood in front of the house. Mom met us at the backdoor. aYouare just in time, Frank. They returned only a couple of minutes ago.a We found two policemen in the living room, one in uniform and the other in mufti, who was the only one of the two to speak. His manner was that of an owner, as if we were the supplicants. I resented that automatically, as I always have. Dadas expression was neutral.

aSit here, please,a said the plain-clothes cop in a commanding tone of voice and pointed to an armchair.

My small boy was tempted to defy the copas smug authority, but my old man restrained him. I sat as he indicated.

aYou are Timothy Kimball?a I nodded.

He looked at Dad. aYour son?a Dad nodded.

Again he addressed me. aHow old are you?a aTwelve.a aDo you know a girl named Alice Colsen?a aI donat know her, but I sent her a letter and she sent one back.a aWhy did you correspond with Alice Colsen?a aWeare supposed to be pen pals. It was a school project.a aDo you have the letter she sent you?a aSure. Itas upstairs in my room.a aWould you please get it?a I dashed upstairs, retrieved the letter from under the bed, performed a little sleight of hand and clattered back downstairs. This time the boy overcame the old manas desire for a measured tread. I handed the letter to the cop, who read it with a frown on his face.

Dear Tim, Thank you very much for write to me. My teacher sayed you wood. I am glad you did. It is hot in Chicago now. Is it hot in Hightower too? I do not know what else to say. You are the first boy I ever writed to. Please write back to me again. It sure is more fun than talking to my crazy mom.

Your new friend, Alice M. Colsen aWell,a he said turning to my parents, athis certainly helps the investigation. I wonat need to ask your son any more questions.a Mamma looked startled. She extended her hand to the policeman. aMay I see the letter, please?a His eyebrows rose but he pa.s.sed the folded paper across. She scanned it and turned her gaze upon me. Her eyes were marbles of astonishment. She opened her mouth to speak but the officer was first.

aDo you have any other correspondence with this girl?a he asked me.

aNo, sir.a Dad asked, aDoes the girl have a problem at home?a The cop looked pointedly from Dad to me.

aExcuse me,a I said and went into the kitchen, where I strained to hear their conversation, the most important part of which was the copas concluding statement.

aThe girlas mother is batty. She was committed this morning. She claims her daughter is an alien and two other aliens came to the house and took her off to their UFO. We suspected this crazy woman was somehow responsible for the girlas disappearance, but the letter suggests she was aware of her motheras illusions. She has probably run away.a I breathed a sigh of relief and fixed myself a sandwich.

Mom saw the cops out the front door as Dad came into the kitchen.

aThe letter worked,a he said. aI donat think theyall bother us again.a He smiled. aYouare a cool one. Whereas the original letter?a aYes,a Mamma interjected at the kitchen door, aIad like to hear your answer to that.a aRight here.a I pulled it out of my s.h.i.+rt and pa.s.sed it to her. aDid they take the new one?a aYes, they did.a Her eyes verified the original. aWhat if they show your fake to her teacher?a I responded around my mouthful of peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly a” surprisingly tasty on a young tongue, aYou mean, will the handwriting match? It will match. Alice wrote the second one too.a aOh.a Her gaze turned to Dad. aFrank, when do you think you might recall that Tim is my son, too, and that I am your trusted wife?a Dad sighed and put his arm around her. aCome on into the living room, Pattie.a She allowed him to pull her. aWhatas going on, Frank? Isnat it enough that our son has gone weird? Now we have the police poking into our lives. And what I find hardest to believe, you seem to be cooperating with Tim to fool the police!a I stood in the kitchen eating my sandwich, straining to hear their conversation. My mother was clearly upset, judging by her tone of voice, which was uneven and trembling.

aIam afraid weall have to get used to this, Pattie,a my father said. aThings will never be as they were before.a Mamma was almost sobbing in frustration. aBefore? Before what? Whatas happened to him? You seem to know.a aHeas a very unusual boy, more than just precocious. I suppose he possesses a genius that has suddenly overwhelmed him.a Mamma didnat buy that one. aFrank, thereas something wrong with him. It started when he fell off his bike a while back and landed on his head. We should really take him to the doctor.a aAnd get his head examined?a My father snorted, dismissing the notion. aThatas not the problem, Pattie. Thereas nothing physically wrong with the boy. Itas just that heas revealed himself to be a true genius.a aAll of a sudden? It doesnat happen that way, Frank, and you know it!a aMaybe it has to do with his s.e.xual awakening. Heas at that age.a What a lame argument! I thought. Dad was floundering.

as.e.x!a my mother exclaimed in disgust. aI know it can drive some boys to stupidity, but it doesnat cause this sort of craziness.a aHeas not crazy, Pattie. Heas probably more rational than the two of us. Heas certainly brighter than we are.a aAll of a sudden! All of a sudden!a Mom was nearly screaming. aI feel Iave lost him, Frank. He frightens me at times.a The last words were m.u.f.fled as if spoken into my fatheras shoulder. Silence ensued briefly.

aClara a understands the boy.a My father spoke hesitantly. aSheas told me sheall take care of him if weall let her. Perhaps that would be best.a aWell, I can understand that.a Mammaas voice contained a tinge of sarcasm. aClara has always wanted him and sheas rather strange herself. But are you suggesting we give up our son?a aNot give him up. Not that! He would just live with her and she would tutor him. We would see him regularly, maybe every weekend.a There was another pause in the conversation.

aSo itas Clara again.a Now Mammaas voice was bitter. aThis time she wants my son!a aBut Claraas our friend, Pattie. She has nothing but the best intentions.a aI know about you and her, Frank. Iave known it for years. Do you plan to settle Tim with her and then move in yourself?a aGood G.o.d, no, Pattie! I would never leave you. Now youare talking crazy.a aBut you donat deny whatever it is, or was, between you and her. You canat hide that sort of thing from a wife, certainly not from me. Iave noticed the way she avoids looking at your face. I recognize the guilt.a aThat was years ago, Pattie.a I could scarcely hear my fatheras voice. aIt just happened, and we never really enjoyed it because we both love you. We gave it up after a few weeks because we felt so awful.a aYouave always said she looks like a young girl, Frank. Is that what you want? Am I getting too dumpy for you in my middle age?a aItas over, Pattie! Itas been over for years! I donat want anyone but you. Please, letas not talk about it.a aNot talk about it! Yes, that would suit you fine! And donat tell me you didnat enjoy fondling her body and squirting into her. Iam not stupid, Frank.a Mom was ranting.

Again it was quiet except for some m.u.f.fled sniffling.

aDarling,a my dad almost whispered, aof course youare right. I canat deny that when Clara and I first made love we became extremely aroused. But surely you donat want to know the details. Please forgive me if you think I want to change the subject. I do, actually, but not to escape my guilt. I must confess there is something you should know about Tim. You may not believe it, but the boy has convinced me itas true.a aSomething I should know?a Momas voice was tremulous. aThat sounds ominous. Youare frightening me, Frank. Is it something awful?a aNo, nothing like that, nothing reprehensible. I donat know how to begin except to say that weave already lost him, Pattie. Heas a grown man. He only looks like a twelve year old.a aYouare talking nonsense, Frank! Heas still a young boy, but he has some kind of sickness that makes him weird.a aTim is from the future, Pat. Youave got to believe it. Heas older than I am.a Mom emitted a brief, screechy laugh, a derisive hoot. aAre you both crazy? Or are you, he and Clara trying to pull something on me? I wonat stand still for this, Frank!a aPattie! No one is plotting against you. What I say about Tim is all true, and I can prove it. Heas a very famous scientist, a n.o.ble Prize winner, at least he was where he came from.a aWhere he came from?a aYes. Tim is from another universe, from a future one or something like that. I donat really understand it either. But it explains why he knows so much. He came here on purpose and took over our Timmyas body.a aYou mean heas a stranger from another world? A body s.n.a.t.c.her? Do you realize how ridiculous you sound, Frank? You of all people!a aPerhaps I do sound ridiculous. No, Iall go further. This story does seem ridiculous. But it isnat, Pattie. You yourself have contributed to the proof of it.a aI?a aYes. Do you recall telling us at breakfast that some friend of Timas fell off his bike in front of our house and broke his ankle?a aYes, but a”a aTim predicted it the day before.a aHe a he aa She was obviously thinking it over.

aBut that is the least of it. I have interrogated him at length. He exhibits the judgment and the knowledge that only a mature mind might contain. But heas still Tim. You must accept this, Pattie. Heas the same person except for the addition of an adult inside who is also Tim as he became in another world.a aFrank aa Mom paused for a moment. aThis is too much for me to grasp, even though Iam an educated woman. It confounds everything Iave ever learned.a aThat statement applies to us both, my dear. But he has convinced me. I have a suggestion. Iall call him in here and you interrogate him in your specialty.a She sighed deeply. aNo, dear. I wonat suggest to my son that I distrust him.a She sighed again. aI canat say I believe you. I just canat. But I certainly wonat challenge my husband in so serious a matter when he is clearly convinced. If you think itas the right thing to do, Iall let him go live with Clara. At least she can afford the doctor bills heas certain to run up.a I did not want to hear any more, and I dreaded confronting my mother. So I scooted out the back door, letting the screen bang loudly behind me. My throat ached at the certain loss of Mom. We would never be the same together. But I was elated at gaining Clara all for myself.

Clara, standing in my fatheras living room, wore a light, early-fall s.h.i.+ft that clung to her torso most provocatively, suggesting the rest of her to be as succulent as the exposed limbs. She s.h.i.+mmered in youth, fully mature, fully adult, thirty years old.

aAre you ready to leave?a she asked with a smile and a two-finger touch to my cheek. aDo you have your stuff packed?a aYes. Itas all here,a I replied, waving my hand at a large suitcase near the door, but I looked at Alice, who stood next to the woman.

Clara noticed the direction of my gaze and grinned. aI suppose Iall have to play chaperone for you two.a aDonat guard us too closely,a I remarked seriously.

aTimmy,a Clara leaned close to me and whispered, asheas scarcely ten.a aAnd Iam scarcely twelve,a I replied softly.

Clara made a face, then turned to my mom. The two of them went off to the kitchen chatting about my new status as Claraas charge. I heard Mamma insist that I visit at least twice a week.

Alice said quietly, aThereas something weird about that woman, Timmy, besides her Mandelbrot paintings. Iave lived with her two days now. She has the latest Physical Review and Chemical Journal in her magazine rack, would you believe? And though she has no servant, her place is absolutely spotless.a aWeird, eh? Did she come on to you?a I grinned and pulled the girl to me with one arm.

aDo you realize how far youave fallen, Timmy?a she sputtered in exasperation. aYou were once a great man, and now all you can think about is s.e.x.a aIam just a twelve year old boy, Alice, and Iam more inclined to focus on shapely thighs than barren physics.a aWell,a she scolded me, aI wish you would concentrate more on my thighs than hers.a aI also like t.i.ts,a I said playfully.

aYou donat have to be so cruel. Iall have them in two or three years. I developed early, as I recall. But youare just playing with me, arenat you? As you always did. Word games.a aI love you, Alice, as I always have,a I said and gave her a small kiss.

aBut you want to fondle Claraas pretty thighs.a aMuch more than that, Alice. I want to taste them a” and her small t.i.tties as well.

aYouare a disgusting pervert!a aCome now, hardly that!a I responded deviously, adding in my soprano voice, aIam just a little boy,a and cupping my palm to her groin.

aNot now!a She barked.

aLater perhaps?a aYes, Timmy. Later and later and later.a Alice clung to me and kissed my face with an intense pa.s.sion.

aWell, what do we have here?a Clara said, interrupting us. Mom stood behind her frowning. Clara added, aArenat they cute at that age?a aBirds and bees,a I replied cheerfully. aItas as natural as that.a aBut itas unnatural until youare eighteen, according to the American public,a she teased. aYouare too young for that even in France.a aYou canat be serious,a Alice declared indignantly, sounding like an adult despite her high pitched voice.

aCanat I?a Clara regarded the girl with a strange look on her face.

Mamma was studying me intently. Abruptly she turned and hurried upstairs, almost as if she were fleeing the scene. Clara looked from her to me and made motions with her hands towards the porch.

aWeare going now, Pat,a she called upstairs. aIall bring Tim to visit in a couple of days.a I heard a m.u.f.fled response above the hurrying footsteps. Perhaps it was a sob. I knew that Mamma would not see me off.

aCome,a Clara said, leading us out the front door. She carried the suitcase for me, shoving it into the backseat of the new Packard.

Alice insisted on sitting between Clara and me in the front.