WHOO HOO! YAY AND NAY for being sick. It gave me time to finish typing this up. My sister wanted me to title this chapter "Tacos, Sombreros and Other Mysteries"... BWHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah no. PLEASE REVIEW! it would make my day. im serious. Well anyway, here ya go. Read and Reveiw and DFTBA!


-Chapter 2: Punishment and More Troubles-

Wilbur trudged up the walkway to his house, tired from the long day. He had to save three of the band kid's homework from being destroyed in toilets; he had forgotten his pre-calc homework on his desk at home, and to top it off he had a headache from the book that hit him in his head when he was at his locker. And, as he walked up the walk way, he realized he still had to get grounded.

Wilbur made it to the front door and was greeted by Spike and Demitri, "Hey ring my door bell!"

"Not now guys," Wilbur moaned. "Can I please just go inside?"

"Are you in such a rush to get grounded?"

"No," Wilbur sighed as he pushed the door open, "I just want to... take a nap."

"Hey there little buddy! How was your day?" Carl greeted Wilbur at the door. Wilbur handed Carl his backpack and walked towards the kitchen.

"It's been better," Wilbur shrugged. "How great could it be when I know that I am grounded as soon as I get home? Whatever the fluke was that got me out of trouble this morning, it's surely gone now. After dad had a successful project, he's back to his old self."

"Hey, just the man I was looking for," Cornelius Robinson said as he walked into the kitchen. He reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice.

Wilbur sighed heavily but managed to smile, "Hey dad. What are you doing home so early?"

Cornelius laughed, "When you find a cure for a type of cancer within the first hour of your work day, you kind of get the right to take off early, especially when you have unfinished business to deal with at home."

"Glad to hear that my punishment is reason enough to have you rush home."

Mr. Robinson rolled his eyes as he sat the bottle with a clunk, "I had other things too. I had to tune up the time machine, clean up the lab, and I thought that maybe we could talk or something… just because."

"Dad," Wilbur started as he quietly got up, "I really just want to take a nap or sit in a quiet room for a while. Maybe we can talk later?"

"How about I do the whole punishment thing now so that you don't have to deal with your mother and then I'll let you go?" Wilbur nodded (regretting it once his head started to throb) and sat back down.

Cornelius looked his son in the eyes and tried to harden his resolve, "You are grounded for a month. What I want you to do with this time is I want you to organize the library in the basement. For every five days this take, add an additional one day to your grounding. Sound fair?"

"Yeah," Wilbur said staring at his feet. "I assume that I have clearance to get down there?"

"Yep," Mr. Robinson smiled. "You can go now if you want to go take a nap or whatever."

"Nah, I'll go and start organizing the library," Wilbur said as he stood up and started walking to the travel tube. "Call when it's time for dinner if I'm not back before then."

"Will do."

Wilbur headed to the travel tube and shot through the house to the basement. He hadn't been down here in a while seeing how he normally didn't have a reason to make the trip. He remembered the library, or rather; he remembered what they called the library. Reality was that it was just an extra room that ended up holding all of the books that weren't in use. Upon entering the room, Wilbur realized that it also now contained many forgotten blue prints and journals of his father which were scattered around on the floor. This was going to take a while.

Wilbur started by going through the room and collecting schematics, sketches and scripts that filled blue sheets of paper that were dated all the way back to January 1, 2009. Wilbur smiled at the designs he recognized and puzzled quizzically over the ones he didn't. He organized the blueprints by date, for lack of a better plan. Surprisingly this didn't take too long for such a big and messy room. Wilbur felt a sense of assurance that he could finish before the first five days were up.

With half an hour before dinner, Wilbur started to work on organizing the journals spread everywhere with a flat surface. He picked up the first volume and was surprised to find that there was no dating anywhere on it. The only thing that helped Wilbur put a time on it was the fact that it was in a composition book which meant that it must have been early on in his father's career.

Wilbur's brown eyes scanned the room as he casually flipped the note book open. Surely his father wouldn't mind if he looked, just so that he knew where to put it for organization. Wilbur's eyes flew across the pages of drawings and equations, and smiled as he recognized his father's plans for the travel tubes. Wondering if the rest of the book was like this, Wilbur turned the page. The next page was full of Cornelius' neat script, although it appeared a little more informal. Wilbur read through the page:

"Violet and I were talking at lunch. She said time travel would never be possible because time is constantly moving forward. I tried to argue this with her but she kept making good points. 'If time is consistent then once something has happened it's happened. You can't go back. There wouldn't be anything to go back to. Then you'd also have to know if we are the past or the future? Is there time already in front of where we are or are we the front line? And then how would you go about traversing the timeline? What are you breaking into since time is not a tangible? It's not like there's a zipper you can just pull open and go through. It's not possible Lewis, too many unanswered questions.' I was so confused.

"Time travel is possible, or… it WILL be possible. It's not now, but it will be, as soon as I figure… you know what I mean. It is a possible thing to do because I have seen it, I have done it. But… Violet has a point. I guess only time will tell what happens. Maybe Violet will be able to help solve for some of those unknowns she mentioned. We all know Violet hates unknowns."

Wilbur couldn't help but smile after reading the page. This Violet girl seemed so set in her belief, but obviously time travel is a possible thing. Now Wilbur was curious, so he flipped a few more pages.

"Wilbur, time for dinner," Franny's voice rang through the room.

"Yeah, mom," Wilbur shouted back seemingly into the sky, "I'll be up in a minute."

"Okay, but better hurry, its taco night."

Wilbur looked back down at the open book in his hands and read the page in front of him. Once again, it looked like this page was more of a personal journal but a few things caught Wilbur's eye right away. The page was written by two hands which Wilbur recognized as not only his father's but also his mother's hands. The page also had some splotch marks on it. This combination was like a magnet and before he could say "Robinson Industries" he was reading the page.

Hello journal, it's Franny with Cornelius today. He doesn't want to work on anything or write anything so I am writing because I know that…

Franny, please stop.

I'm not stopping until you go do something. You said that you don't want to forget, and the things you don't want to forget you end up putting in here.

You're right.

I'm always right.

Yeah, well today was the day we all knew was coming. We all knew it was coming, but I just didn't see it coming.

Sorta like when Michael Jackson died.

Violet passed away. There I said it. Happy Franny? Our friend Violet lost her battle with Leukemia at 4:58 on May 2, 2011.

That was all that was on the page. Wilbur put the journal down with more questions than answers. He walked over to the travel tubes and shot upward towards the dining room.

Once in the dining room, Wilbur couldn't help but laugh. The room was definitely ready for a full out fiesta. A piñata hung from the ceiling swaying slightly from the slight breeze circulating around the room. A bright rainbow runner ran down the middle of the table. Frankie and the other frogs sang some Mexican song that Wilbur didn't know, seeing how he didn't pay enough attention to that class.

But what made Wilbur laugh the hardest was the sight of his mother chasing his father around in circles, trying to get him to wear a sombrero.

"Franny," Cornelius laughed, "Stop it."

"Dinner is served," Carl called as the rest of the family followed him inside. Chaos ensued as would be expected from the Robinson family. After burritos had been sent flying, and all of the spicy salsa had been consumed, the family sat quietly around the table which was a rare occurrence. Everyone seemed content, except a certain young teenager. Wilbur couldn't shake the fact that his father and mother never talked about Violet. Why hadn't they ever told him about her? Wilbur wanted answers.

Wilbur's eyes scanned the room for his robotic friend but to no avail. If he wanted answers, he had to go straight to the source.

"Hey dad," Wilbur started somewhat timidly, "I got a question for you when you get a minute."

Cornelius took the sombrero off of his head and looked at his son, "Go ahead."

"No, dad," Wilbur said as he handed his mother a plate she was reaching for. "I think this would be better…"

"Just go ahead and ask," Franny said as she started out of the room.

Wilbur gulped, "Who was Violet?"

CRASH! The plate that Franny was carrying shattered into a million pieces as it came into contact with the floor. Dead silence filled the room as all eyes danced between Cornelius, Franny and Wilbur. No one wanted to say anything to the three, they just watched with bated breaths.

Franny walked over to her husband and put an arm on his shoulder. Cornelius Robinson stood up and answered flatly, "She was a friend."

"Wh.." Wilbur stopped once he saw Franny's stare at her son that clearly said shut-up-this-minute-or-you're-grounded.

"Wilbur, go to your room."

Wilbur gaped in disbelief, "but Mom!"

"Wilbur… just go."

Wilbur sighed, got up from the table, and left the dining room. Franny's attention fell back to her husband. Just then, his pager went off.

He quickly looked at his pager before sighing, "I have to go to work, Franny." And he left without another word.

-END OF CHAPTER-

My sister's first and only question once she read this was "What did Wilbur have on his taco?"... I have no clue. Tell me what you think of that (AND the chapter over all) in a REVEIW! GO. Click it! Thanks. Keep moving forward and DFTBA.