At this point in time, I just really want to get this story over with. Once you read something over and over again just to edit the fine details, it poisons you. Sigh.
Chapter 7:
The roof closes as he lands the time machine in the garage. The clock by the wall shows that he has only been gone for two hours. It was quiet except for his heartbeat resounding in his ears.
Wilbur turns the engine off. The hatch opens, and he jumps out. Looking around, he doesn't see anyone tinkering with the machines. Not Carl. Not Cousin Lazlo. Not his father....
He jumps into the travel tube that leads into the main hallway.
"Mom! I'm home," Wilbur calls out as his feet land squarely on the ground. No response. "Mom?"
"Hey honey! Look at this…" A deep voice rings out. Wilbur's heart instantly races.
"Dad? Dad!" He runs toward that voice. It was coming straight from the living room.
"Dad!" He turns the corner and sees his mother, alone under a blanket, in front of the television.
"Wilbur? You're back."
He looks around, hoping and wishing that everything was back to the way things were. That his father was just hiding somewhere, ready to spring out and surprise him...like he used to.
"Franny! Look at this!"
The television catches his attention. That was the source of it all. "You don't wanna miss this! Wilbur's taking his first steps!"
His mother's voice comes in from outside the shot. "Oh my God! Are you taping this? Come on Wilbur! Come to mama!"
An infant Wilbur smiles, rushing towards her. He babbles and then as he reaches her, laughs in her arms.
Franny taps the seat beside her and Wilbur sits down, entranced by the video.
"You know…your father basically worshipped the ground you walked on when you were little." She sniffs, takes a tissue from her lap, and blows her nose. Her eyes were swollen and red. "How was he?"
"Who?"
"Lewis, of course…I figured that's what you were up to when you took the time machine."
"He's fine." He's a liar…
"Did you…speak to him?" She doesn't look at him directly, but he could tell all her attention was on him.
"Yeah…we had a long talk." He promised me. He promised he would get through this.
"Anything in particular?"
"Not really…I guess he was too busy inventing something…he wasn't really listening." Nothing's changed. The future is still the same.
"I was hoping…at least…" But she doesn't finish her sentence. Wilbur already knows what she was going to say…mainly because it was the same thing he had wanted too.
"I'm sorry mom…I failed."
"It's not your fault." She wraps her arms around him.
The video keeps going as they cry, just a little bit.
"Oh, Papa feels so left out! Wilbur, come this way now. Come here."
A younger Franny places the infant back on the ground, and the screen moves as Cornelius hands her the camera. Little Wilbur wobbles towards him, gains speed, and then falls. The look on his face starts out bewildered, and as if in slow motion, his mouth opens into an ear-piercing wail.
"Aw, don't cry Wilbur." Cornelius picks him up and rocks him. He smiles to Franny behind the screen, but it makes him seem as if he is looking straight at them through the television. "Shh…shh…don't cry. It's going to be okay…don't cry. Daddy is so proud of you…"
To Wilbur, the last few days go by in a blur. He finds himself waking up, the sun's rays barely showing over the horizon. Monday. The dreaded day he has to go back to school.
There is a little frost on the glass. "It's going to be cold today." He looks in the mirror, repositions his spike, and stares into his own eyes.
"Wilbur…keep moving forward." He smiles at his own reflection. "You promised that idiot. You have to man up now."
His smile slides for a moment as he thinks back. The lump in his chest seems to get heavier and heavier until he feels like dropping to the floor. Wilbur catches himself, looks at the mirror, and places the smile on his face once again. "Let's do our best!"
Downstairs, everyone was already gathered at the table. The conversation was solemn as it had been for the past week.
"Good morning everyone!" They all look at him, startled at first by the sudden noise, then confused by the strange disposition of the speaker. "So, what's for breakfast Carl?"
"We're having bacon and eggs." The robot opens his chest, grabs a plate from inside, and places the dish in front of the boy. "Is something the matter, little buddy? You're acting kind of…weird."
"Weird? Moi? In what way?" he asks as he begins to stuff strips of meat in his mouth. Halfway through, his words become slightly garbled.
"You seem…very cheery…"
"Carl, buddy, it's me!" He flourishes his hands around his face. "Since when am I not cheery?"
"Well…the whole of last week basically…"
"Oh that. Just a minor set back, Carl." The robot looks at Wilbur's mother, both worried.
"And besides…" The mask was slipping, and everyone could see it. "I know…dad wouldn't want us to be sad…even if he is gone. He's just that kind of guy, always thinking about us first."
There was silence. He berates himself for breaking the mood. That was the one thing he didn't want to do today.
Then it comes…the unmistakable sound of the meatball cannon, and the sound of meat sticking to Franny's face.
"Gaston…" She looks at her brother with tears in her eyes.
"I challenge you to a duel!" His eyes also gleam under the shadow of his strange, cylindrical helmet.
Franny wipes her tears away, and the look on her face turns deadly. "You'll regret challenging me…brother."
As his mother gets on top of the table, this feeling begins to grow softly in Wilbur's gut, and it rises until he bursts out laughing. It was an honest laugh. A laugh filled with joy…and it infects the rest of his family. They laugh with tears in their eyes because this situation was both too sad and too beautiful.
He thinks, "Dad would have wanted us to be happy…just like this."
Wilbur catches his mother's gaze. They smile at each other; the first in what felt to him was a very long time.
The bell rings, signaling the end of a long school day. Students rush out of into the hallway. To Wilbur, there was noise everywhere, from the clang of lockers being opened and closed to the stampede of feet as boys and girls rush to the nearest exit.
Wilbur's day had been awkward to say the least…
"Hey Wilbur." Kathy approaches him as he leaves through the front doors. "I heard about your dad. I'm sorry."
"Er…thank you…" He could say nothing else. This was Kathy. Katherine Eva Spiller, the most sought after girl in school. She knew his name! Well...yeah, she had to be stupid not to know his name, but it was the thought that counted. He blushes slightly, and strangely enough, can't seem to look straight into her seemingly gorgeous green eyes.
"Yeah!" Kathy's friend comes out from behind her. "We heard the news. And we totally don't think your dad was insane!"
"Um…thank you?"
"Take care…" Kathy states, just before dragging her friend away in embarrassment.
And the awkwardness rises once more.
It was like that all day. He could feel their eyes on him. And by "them", he meant everyone who saw or knew of him. That was quite a very big list. He had tried to ignore it, tried not to feel their pity, but with all his strength drained by just trying to be as cheerful as possible, this new development did not help his mood any.
Wilbur usually had Carl come and pick him up from school. Today was an exception.
"Hey Wilbur. Wanna hang out at my place?" His friend, Jake, had seen the look on his face.
Jake. One of the first people he'd met who hadn't been intimidated or even remotely impressed by his last name. The level headed one that kept him out of trouble in school. Heck, he was basically a human Carl. His first friend, after Carl of course. He could always depend on the shorter, brown haired boy to know what to do.
"No thanks…I just want to be alone right now..." He hears his voice and immediately straightens himself up. "No worries Jake. I'm not down or anything! I'm just tired. Just tired! But if you want, you can sleep over again this weekend."
"I've gotta ask my parents first…are you sure you're going to be okay?" He looks around. "It's weird that Carl's not with you today."
"Told him that I could just take a taxi home. I wanted to walk for a little while…"
"I understand bro." He shakes Wilbur's hand and adds a concerned squeeze in his grip. "Be careful okay?"
"Who do you think you're talking to? Wilbur Robinson is the master of being careful."
"Dude…if I believed that, I wouldn't have said anything." Jake chuckles nervously. A car honks by the parking lot. "Oh, there's my dad. Gotta run!"
A strong spike of jealousy rises in him, which he extinguishes as quickly as possible.
"No!" He shakes his head. "I can't think like that…I should get some ice cream. That'll make me feel better at least."
But his chosen path, inevitably, would have taken him across the city and right through to Robinson Industries.
He looks up and nostalgia sears through. The shining monolith now has a hole blasted off its side where his father's office once was. The deco paint marred by the black soot that ends halfway down the building.
Across from all the yellow tape keeping him out, police are busy investigating, and as Wilbur scans their faces, he meets the eyes of the detective from last week.
"…I should be going now," he whispers and turns to leave.
"Hey wait! Wilbur right?" The detective runs up to him. "I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot there."
"No…it's okay."
"I just wanted to apologize…I can be insensitive sometimes."
"I'm not a little flower that you have to be careful with," Wilbur says a little to harshly.
"No. I guess you're not." He smiles. "I'm Dan Maza. We weren't properly introduced last time."
Wilbur shakes his hand but doesn't look up. "So detective…have you found anything yet?"
"Nothing that I can disclose right now."
This was his father he was talking about! "Still think my dad was…how did you put it…mentally unstable'?"
"Sorry kid. Just doing my job."
"Well…you should get back to that then, instead of talking to some kid like me." Wilbur leaves feeling more agitated than he had expected to be.
As he turns away, he catches a glimpse of two people across the street. One is a tall man, made even taller by the top hat on their head. He is also wearing a large, brown trench coat. The second, shorter by comparison, is wearing a leather jacket with his hood up.
All-in-all, Wilbur could only assume they were men because their faces were hidden underneath the deep shadows of said hat and hood. There was, however, the prickly sensation, an intuition he would call it, that they were looking straight at him.
"Nah! Who am I kidding?" He laughs to himself, smirking just a bit. "I can't blame them for staring. I do have that je ne sais qoui..."
When he looks back, hoping to flash them his award winning smile, the two men had already disappeared.
"…Okay. I really do need that ice cream now."
