The light was slinking into my closed eyes, making it harder to appreciate the dream. I opened them for a split second as a reflex and by the time I shut them again, the dream was gone. I squeezed them shut, trying frantically to get it back, but it was impossible. Only lonely, random thoughts meandered through my mind. I sighed, and opened my eyes resignedly. I sat up, tangled in my bedcovers, and stretched leisurely. I found it kind of strange that I was snarled in my blankets, because I distinctly remembered falling asleep on top of them because I was feeling quite warm when I went to bed. I shrugged it off as my mom or Carl, and hopped out of bed. I crossed my room to the door, absently remembering that today was Saturday. My dad was on a business trip and he wouldn't be back until Monday morning. I was momentarily saddened by this thought, but instantly felt lifted when I remember his promise to spend time together once he returned.

I walked softly into the kitchen, where Grandma Lucille and Carl were making breakfast.

"Hello, dear," my grandma trilled happily as she cracked some eggs into a bowl. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine, Grandma," I answered. "What's for breakfast?"

Carl caught twenty pieces of toast as they popped out of the giant toaster. "Oh, just an ordinary toast, eggs and bacon affair." He grinned at me.

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Ordinary, in this house? Please, Carl." I joked.

He chuckled. "Just call everyone in, will ya?"

"Will do." I pressed the button on the intercom. "Calling all Robinsons, calling all Robinsons, please make your way into the dining room in an orderly fashion. Do not panic, there is enough bacon for everyone."

Carl looked at me humouredly. "Ok, come on Mr. Smart Alec."

"The name's Wilbur, not Alec." I followed him through the double doors.

I sat in between Laszlo and Uncle Art to eat.

"Does anyone was to hear Frankie's new song? He and Herbert have a wonderful duet in it." asked my mom, smearing her toast in honey.

Everyone nodded in agreement. My mom could be so obsessive with those frogs sometimes, but at least she always had time for me (and often a little too much time) unlike my dad who at times, just couldn't come see the snow fort I made, or didn't have time to play games. I shook these thoughts out of my head.

"Whoa, watch it, you could poke an eye out with that hair!" teased Tallulah, who was sitting across from me and had seen me shaking my head.

I scowled at her as everyone laughed along with her. I faked a chuckle as I sneakily loaded up my fork.

"Hey Tallulah?"

"Yeah?" She looked up.

I flung the scrambled eggs on the end of my fork at her. They landed beautifully, coating her hair, her dress, and her hat.

Everyone grew silent as she glared at me. Her eyes shot upwards and a hand rose to her hat. Then she gave me a death glare. All of a sudden her face relaxed, and she resumed devouring her bacon. I glanced around at everybody, and their expressions matched my own, giving me questioning looks. I shrugged, and finished my last bite of toast. I sipped my kumquat juice and waited until everyone was done. My mom thought it was more polite that way. I had never left the table until the whole family had finished before.

As everyone left to do what they pleased I ran upstairs to get dressed. I put on a pair of jeans, but had to slide on a belt as well because they were a tiny bit too loose around my waist. After rifting through my dresser, I found my favourite shirt. It had been my favourite for a few years now, but, despite my growth spurt, my dad and Tallulah had managed to find a way to make it fit me still. I will admit it was sort of dorky, with the lightning bolt symbol and stuff but I knew that I made it look cool. After slipping on my favourite sneakers, I was out the door. I wandered around the house for a while, not really sure what to do with myself, and realized I wasn't feeling like the energetic, can't-stay-still kind of guy I am. I needed some help. I needed to talk.

I needed Carl.

Carl stands for Constructive Artificial Robotic Life. Carl is pretty much my big brother, best friend, and ultimate confidant. The fact that he isn't human didn't mean anything to me. He has been around ever since I could remember, before I was born, actually. He was there first when I had a nightmare, he was the one who sat with me when I was sick, and he was the one always up for a game. More importantly though, Carl gives me a lot of advice, only some of which I listen to. He might be a robot, with wires, gears, and artificial intelligence but he is more real to me than anything. Even my dad wonders about Carl, because he shows emotions that he wasn't programmed with.

I went into the kitchen, where Carl and the mini Carls were putting away dishes. I knocked softly on the door.

"Hey, little buddy," he said, not turning around. I smiled faintly. That was Carl's nickname for me. He finished putting away the last stack of plates and turned to face me, his grin disappearing as he saw my strained smile. "What's the matter, pal?" he said in a softer voice, walking over to put his arm around me.

I took a deep breath. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure, anything, anything you need." He led me outside to a secluded spot under one of the few we have trees that aren't topiary. I guess he knew it would be hard to have a good heart-to-heart while sitting directly under a dinosaur's butt.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" he asked me after we had sat down.

At this point I was feeling kind of stupid, because I was 13 now, and I am the kind of guy that hates to cry because it makes me feel vulnerable, let alone talking about my feelings. I really needed to get this off my chest, though and this was Carl, not my mom or anything, so I sucked in a sharp breath and just let the words pour out.

"It's my dad, he's never around, he's always in his lab or working on an invention or something. I barely just get to hang out with him and when we do hang out he's always saying how if I work hard and 'keep moving forward', that I could be a scientist or an inventor just like him. But I don't want to be just like him! I don't want to be an inventor. I mean, it's really cool he invented so much stuff but that's his dream, not mine! He just expects me to be perfect like he is and…and…I…I-I feel like I'm just not…not…good enough f-for him." My voice started to break and my eyes were tearing up as I finished. I shook away the tears, trying desperately to keep my cool, not wanting to lose it, even in front of Carl. My shoulders shook forcefully as I struggled to compose myself. I closed my eyes and took slow, precise breaths as I counted to ten. I stood up. "Thanks, Carl."

"Anytime, little buddy. Are you sure…" he paused, not knowing how to continue.

"I'm good." I assured him, and ran into the house.

That was a close one, I thought as I dashed up to my room. I needed a distraction. I glanced around the room, and my eyes fell on the video game console on top of my TV. Perfect.

I pulled on the virtual reality suit and plunked the helmet on my head. Through the visor I could see an alien world, with power plants, pollution, and global-sized wars. This would be a great distraction.

I had just finished saving humanity from a nuclear war when my mom called me down for dinner over the intercom. I realized I was starving as I had completely missed lunch. I zipped through a travel tube into the dining room. I scooted my chair in a bit, this time sitting next to Grandpa Bud and Aunt Billie. I quietly ate my meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I barely noticed when Tallulah rose from her seat to stand behind my chair and called to Carl who was sitting in a chair against the wall, watching me with concern.

"Carl, hon, is there enough for seconds?"

Carl looked in disbelief at her plate. "You're not even finished."

She dumped the contents on my head. "Now I am." She replied innocently.

The whole family snickered at that, but I couldn't care less about the mutilated potatoes and meat dripping off my face. The laughter died down as my mom noticed I wasn't responding.

"Wilbur, honey, are you okay?" she asked anxiously.

Lefty dropped a towel on my head. I slowly removed it from my face and looked at my mom, conscious that everyone else was staring at me too.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I'm better than okay!" I laughed nervously. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

I wiped the contents of Tallulah's plate off my head and neck, trying my hardest to look perky.

"Are you sure?" She looked skeptical

I nodded, smiling tightly.

She gave me one last doubtful look before talking to Uncle Gaston again about the possibility of using frog crap as cannon fuel. As soon as possible, I tried to escape to my room, but I was stopped by my mom in the doorway.

"Can you take this out to the garage?" she asked me. I was handed a bag which was lighter than it looked. I slung it over my shoulder, and feeling almost like myself again, walked out to the garage, since the bag might make tube travel difficult.

I have often been accused of having a short attention span. This was proving to be a good thing right now, because I had almost forgotten about talking to Carl.

Suddenly I heard my mom's voice over the intercom.

"Wilbur, remember to shut that door tight otherwise the alarm system won't engage."

"Yeah mom!" I called, rolling my eyes. She talked to me like I was likely to forget important things. Suddenly I remembered the homework I had to do for English class.

I hadn't realized that I had left the door open until I heard a crash and saw the second time machine, the one my dad tried to make look a bit better than his first one, fly off into the stormy night, driven by a guy with a curly moustache and bowler hat.

This was bad.

I zoomed up the travel tube into Carl's room, where I hoped I could find him.

"Carl!" I shouted as soon as my feet hit the ground. He was sitting at his desk, sketching something. If robots had hobbies, sketching was Carl's.

"What's wrong, pal?" he asked, concern etched (figuratively) into his metal face.

"I am in so much trouble." I moaned.

Carl's face relaxed somewhat. "What did you do this time? Last time you were in 'so much trouble' you were only grounded for a month."

My pupil's dilated and I began to hyperventilate, the image of the time machine disappearing into the stormy sky squeezing me tighter and tighter…

"It's gone." I murmured, covering my face with my hands.

"What's gone? Look, talk to me!" Carl demanded.

I avoided his eyes. "It got stolen."

"WHAT? WHAT GOT STOLEN?" Carl shouted in my face.

I ran forward and covered his mouth. "Shh!" I scolded him.

"The time machine was stolen." I stared him fearfully in the eye, my voice shaking and quavering, just like my knees were.

"Ok, you are in so much trouble."

"More than that! If dad finds out, he'll be mad. If mom finds out, I'll be dead. If the guy in the bowler hat does something to the past then…"

Suddenly there was ice shards embedded in my gut, and my mouth went dry.

"Pal?" asked Carl nervously.

I couldn't breathe, let alone talk.

"Little buddy?" Carl shook my shoulders.

My mind could only think one thought.

"WILBUR?" he screamed in my face.

My voice went up a couple of octaves as I whispered "Then I might never exist."

Carl's eyes searched mine, or at least, as best as headlight eyes can.

After a moment I looked determinedly back at him.

"We need a plan."

I ran stealthily into the games room. I motioned for Carl to come in and he came down the hallway in one extended step. Dumping my models on the poker table, I grabbed a pointer out of the corner.

"How do you even know where he went?" asked Carl, his hands on his hips.

I fished some folded up paper from my pocket, and shoved a letter in his face. Written with terrible spelling, was a strange threat.

Hah, Cornellius Robinnson, it waz I who stoled your time macheen! I will reck your siense project and take it as my own! Then I will sel it to a larje companee and ruin your lif! You can never stopp me!

Carl looked at the letter, then at me. "Who is this guy?"

"I have no idea; I just know he has a bowler hat." I said. I arranged the clay figures accordingly, feeling proud of them despite my lack of artistic talent. I locked the door and turned to Carl.

"So this is how this is going to work," I announced, pointing to the clay people on the table.

"I will go back in time to find my dad as a kid, make sure his science project isn't sabotaged, then find the second time machine, and go home with both time machines with the space time continuum intact!" I finished enthusiastically.

"That's great, so how are you supposed to fly both time machines back at once?" Carl asked complacently.

My face fell. I rubbed my neck, thinking hard. Carl raised his eyebrows at me. I snapped my fingers as a light bulb went off in my head.

"When I get it, I'll come back here and get you, then I can drive one while you drive the other!" I grinned at him persuasively.

Carl stared hesitantly at me. "I don't know…"

"I know this will work. I'm Wilbur Robinson! What could go wrong?"

"Well let's think about this," said Carl soberly.

"No time! I'm off to save the world as we know it!"

Carl rolled his eyes at me as I hastened to the garage. I heard him mumble something about needing to relax but I was out of earshot in no time.

I started up the time machine easily. I had never driven it before but I had driven the hovercar before and the first time machine was just a flying car with a time stream mechanism stuck in. As I flew into the sky and punched in 17-06-2007 I tried not to think to hard about what I was getting myself into this time.