Thank you for joining us for another entry into the characters from my first novel. Chronolocity Vol 1 A Fistful of Chronotons. In this entry, we meet three children from history, no wait, there is a fourth. After a time travel accident Levy is housed with three other boys. These boys are all notable figures from the 20^th Century who will grow up to make their mark on history. I bet after seeing these little tidbits from the book, you can guess who they will be. Levy also has an unseen female neighbor who lives next door. They communicate through the connecting bathroom wall using Morse Code.  All of these historical personages make a more personal impact on Levy and the fate of history as we are about to find out.

 

The song, Four For Espionage is how Levy, Junior, Tom, and Albert plan an escape from their quarters and somehow help turn the tide of the time war, with a little help from their neighbor Annie.

 

 

https://theclockopera.bandcamp.com/track/four-for-espionage

 

 

Levy first meets a ten-year old Martin Luther King Jr. Junior and Levy both realize that the have a temper and they discuss how they deal with their anger. 

 

Askew?” Junior rubs the back of his neck.

“Yes, and twisted.”

“Ah, yes.” The light bulb switches on in his head. He snaps his fingers. “That makes sense. You know, it was really peculiar how I ended up here in the first place.”

“Go ahead, I would like to hear it.”

“Let’s see,” Junior begins. “It was a Sunday morning in March. My dad and I were having an argument.”

“Really, I couldn’t imagine Martin Luther King having a temper.” Junior eyed him suspiciously.

Levy’s big smile was back. Oh, gaww, I am just as bad as Mr. Cross.

“You act like you know me from somewhere.”

Levy backpedals, “It’s just that seeing you in person, I mean, you seem… like a pretty mellow dude, eh, guy, fellow. I couldn’t see you losing your temper that easily.” Levy knows now how Mr. Buckley must feel when he gets nervous. Levy sweats bullets. He hopes he didn’t give anything away.

Junior shakes it off. “Well, I admit it. I do have a quick temper, but I have been working on it.” He laughs. “I’m sure my dad has the older ladies in the Tuesday prayer group praying for his boy every week without fail.”

Huh, you have a green rage monster inside you, too?

 

 

Levy is aghast to find that his all hero, Thomas Edison is nothing like his eight year old version.  He isn’t sure how much he like him or trusts this bothersome kid.  

 

Levy pulls out a piece of folded notebook paper. “I think the key is to make a device that is sort of like a musical instrument.”

Tom leans over and examines the plans. He wrinkles up his lip as he processes what he sees. “It looks like a piano. Are you saying you can build one? From what?” he laughs. “That machine looks very sophisticated and boxy. I doubt we have the materials. How big is it?”

Levy points to the keys on the device. “Yes, a keyboard, and each of these keys will be wired to make a different note.” He holds out his two hands. “It won’t be the size of a piano; it will fit like a book in my hands.”

Junior and Tom look at each other.

“I know what you’re thinking. Where will I get the parts?” Levy reaches over and dumps out a small cigar box filled with crayons. He thumps the side, the lid, and holds it with both hands. “I think this will work. And I bet we could find some other items around here that we can use. Plus, my backpack’s secret compartment holds some tools.”

“So you think it will work, this plan of yours?” Junior asks as he finishes his meal.

“I hope so.” Levy sets down the box. “I am a decent builder and know how electronics work.”

“You’re not sure it’s even going to work, are you?” Tom questions. “Where I am from, electricity is something people are still experimenting with.”

It’s when you are from, Tom. Levy shakes his head. You are so in the past.  If he had any idea where he and electricity would end up he wouldn’t be so skeptical.

“All I can do is try. At least I’m offering to help.” Levy reaches out and takes everyone’s trash. Geez kid, could you be any more negative?

 

The third boy named Albert is a mystery to Levy.  He has an idea who this silent deep thinker is, but he is not totally certain. Maybe you have a clue? 

 

He flips himself over again. Levy stews over that for a while. He isn’t going back to sleep any time soon. Maybe it did mean something this time? How can you really tell the difference?

As he lays in that comforting fetal position, something else catches his attention. A song. A song? Someone is singing a song? He tries to concentrate on the words, but they are not easily understood. There’s something very familiar about that tune.

 

German. You’ve only been taking that class for three months now. Grandma Heiter and Mom speak it all the time when they get chatty or have a secret to tell each other.

 

“It’s in German?” The light bulb snaps on in his head. “That’s Grandma’s song.” He jumps out of his bed and his bare feet slap the floor.  Who’s up at this hour, anyway?

With a light wisp of air, the door opens. Levy’s ears perk up. He pops his head out the door to try to find the singer in the darkness.

Is that a girl singing? No, the voice singing isn’t a female one, but it is a boy’s voice singing soft and strong. “That sweet song is sort of eerie in the dark.”

His own voice is just louder than a whisper, but the darkened room amplifies the volume. Levy’s eyes fix on a lone figure across the common room. His lanky features are unmistakable.

It’s that kid at the window. Levy pinches himself. He isn’t dreaming this time. At the rate weird things are happening around here, I’m going to have a lot of bruises from pinching myself.

The moonlight beams, giving the place a blue, dream-like haze.

Levy rubs the back of his neck. Brainiac why are you and Arby tingling? I don’t think he is a danger.

Levy listens in wonder. “He knows that whole song in German.”

The boy finishes his song and gazes out at the brilliant moon.

There’s a good chance he never understood anyone because, duh, he probably only speaks German. That makes sense now. Levy builds up the nerve to speak.

“How do you know…?”  He stops and realizes he is speaking English. Levy attempts it again in very broken German. “How…do you know that…  song?”

Nothing like putting book knowledge into practice.

The boy finally acknowledges that Levy is there. He speaks in German: “It was the song my mother would sing to me when I was afraid.”

Levy smiles. I hope I heard that right. “My grandmother sings that song to me, too,” Levy explains. I am so glad I took Ms. Voltz’s class. Man, I never thought I would ever hear myself saying that.

The boy smiles warmly.

Whodeedoo, It’s a start. Levy knows he got it right. “How come you don’t…” Levy fishes for the right word, “…participate with the rest of us?” Levy taps his lip. What is the right German word for ‘hanging out’ with us?

The boy folds his hands. “I just like my time alone.” He pats his head. “It is my time to sit and think.”

Huh, I’m getting most of this, I think. I am glad he speaks very slowly.

“Ah, I am a thinker too. I understand.”

“I have many ideas that come to me, but….” He switches to broken English. “…I am not a good speaker with words.”

“I think you’re doing fine,” Levy tries to sound encouraging. “I’ll help you.”

“The moon is so…” The boy pauses.

“Large?” Levy says it in German as well.

The boy claps his hands. “Large. I noticed that we are not in a developed country,” the boy says in broken English. “There are no at-mos-phe-ric hazes or any other sign of in-dust-ri-a-li-za-tion.”

Ah, this guy has a brain. His English is better than my German.

 

The boys have neighbors in the complex. One of them, Annie, regularly attempts to communicate with Morse Code. Levy and she develop a friendship through a bathroom wall. 

 

The boy’s heart is thudding in his chest. Levy closes his eyes and knocks back. “H-I.”

There is a thunk on the wall and then she “speaks”. “H-I,  T-O-M.  H-O-W   A-R-E   Y-O-U?”

“N-O-T   T-O-M.” Levy takes a breath. “M-Y   N-A-M-E   I-S   L-E-V-Y.”

“O-H.” There is a pause. “N-I-C-E   T-O   M-E-E-T   Y-O-U.” Another pause. “L-E-V-I?”

No one gets my name right. It always takes more work. “L-E-H-V-E-E.” He adds, “N-I-C-E   T-O   M-E-E-T   Y-O-U, T-O-O.”

“S-O   Y-O-U   A-R-E   F-O-U-R   N-O-W?”

“R-I-G-H-T.”

“B-O-Y-S?”

Levy taps back a yes. He switches hands. Levy hesitates. I shouldn’t learn too much about her.

“H-O-W   M-A-N-Y   G-I-R-L-S   W-I-T-H   Y-O-U?”

“T-H-R-E-E   N-O-W.” There is a pause. “J-U-N-E   G-O-T   S-I-C-K.”

Levy knows all of these children and teens are people from history. However, he doesn’t recall anyone named June from history. Mr. Cross did say that there were a lot of unknown people in history, too.

“S-O-R-R-Y.”

“W-H-A-T   D-O   Y-O-U   L-I-K-E, L-E-V-Y?”

“F-O-O-D.”

“W-H-A-T   K-I-N-D?”

“C-A-N-D-Y.” Levy stretches his fingers. I need to choose my words wisely. I can’t say everything. This is going to kill my poor hands, and I need my hands to work on the remote.

“B-E   S-P-E-C-I-F-I-C.”

Levy shakes his head. Girl, you love details, don’t you? “C-H-O-C-O-L-A-”

“–T-E.” She begins knocking over his taps. “M-E, T-O-O.   Y-U-M-M-Y.”

She’s as bad as I am with sweets.

“Y-O-U’-R-E   F-U-N-N-Y.”

She quickly moves from foods to other interests. “I   L-I-K-E   M-E-C-H-A-N-I-C-A-L   T-H-I-N-G-S.”

No way! He doesn’t send that, but Levy thinks it hard.

“M-E, T-O-O.”

 

 

 

If this story interests you or someone you know, please check out our website:

ChronolocityHQ.com http://www.chronolocityhq.com or at Amazon.com. Want more music? Find Chronolocity the Clock Opera at Band Camp.com https://theclockopera.bandcamp.com

 

Your friend in time,

G.P. Avants