Rodney shook his head. Becky and Grover shook their heads. Wayne said, “But I feel like I’ve heard that voice before.”
“What if I were to say: ‘And now Wayne McCall will lead us all in the Pledge of Allegiance.’?”
Wayne had been trying to cut out a place for legs in the cardboard box desk, using a pair of blunt children’s scissors. He was having trouble holding the scissors the way they should be held, but he was determined not to give up. Now the scissors dropped from his hands. His jaw dropped too. “Is that you, Miss Lyttle?”
“It is me! Look at me! I look just the way I did when I was sixteen. Sweet sixteen. And my eyesight is so good I don’t have to wear my glasses anymore. Isn’t it wonderful, children? Do you know what I did yesterday? I helped two of the other teachers from our school lead a milk cow all the way up to the school roof. It was hilarious!”
Wayne didn’t know what to say to this. Neither did his companions.
The Mayor’s face now took on a serious, all-business look. “We have a petition we would like to present to Professor Johnson, if you would so kind as to—”
“A petition?” interrupted Rodney.
“Yes,” said Miss Lyttle.
“Well, I will have to interview you first. No one sees the Professor until an interview is given. Now, as you can see, I don’t have an interview desk yet, so if you will follow me over to the Professor’s sofa, we will proceed.”
“He is very good at this,” whispered Becky to Wayne.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Wayne, rolling his eyes.
“Now,” said Rodney, struggling to pull himself up onto the sofa.
“Would you like me to give you a boost?” asked the Mayor.
“No. That will not be necessary.” Rodney continued to try very hard to pull himself up, but his little arms were too weak. He finally decided to conduct his interview from the floor.
“Now, what is the nature of your petition, Mr. Mayor?”
“We’d like the Professor to cease work on the machine — what is it called?”
“The Age Altertron.”
“Yes, yes. This Age Altertron he is building. We would like for him to stop.”
“Why would you want to do that?” said Rodney.
“Because there are some people who — how shall I put this? — who are receiving some benefit from the way things now stand. Let us take Miss Lyttle, for instance. She likes being sixteen again. She has more energy and more — more—”
“Verve,” said Miss Lyttle, trying to be helpful. “I have much more verve now. Also, my vision is 20/20 again!”
“Thank you, Miss Lyttle. Now let us take myself, for instance. About the time I turned forty I began to develop a little arthritis in my hands and a little rheumatism in my back. It has only gotten worse with age. With my body clock being reversed, both of my ailments have vanished. So, you see that for some of us, there is great benefit to what has happened to this town. Perhaps it would not be fair to those people to restore things to the way they were before.”
“Tell him the other reason, Mayor,” said Miss Lyttle, who was still smiling. She was, no doubt, still thinking about how hilarious it was to take a milk cow up to a roof.
“Yes, tell Rodney — and me—the other reason,” said the Professor, who had just stepped quietly into the parlor.
“Hello, Professor,” said Mayor Stovall, standing up and extending his hand to shake. “I’m so glad you decided to take a break from your work.” Professor Johnson took the Mayor’s outstretched hand and shook it formally and without pleasure. “And you know Miss Lyttle, the children’s teacher, I believe.”
“Hello,” said Miss Lyttle, blushing a little.
“So, you have given the first reason why you want me to stop my work on the Altertron. Now give me the second,” said the Professor.
The Mayor took a deep breath. “Well, we have a theory — see, we non-Professor types have theories too.”
“Go on.”
“And our theory is this: whatever unknown party is responsible for all the things that happen to this town, whether it’s for good or bad—”
“Mostly bad, Mayor. But go on.”
“Well, we theorize that perhaps they are merely waiting to deliver a change to this town that we will agree to. And if we agree to that change, for example, this turning back all of our body clocks by eleven-and-a half years—”
“Eleven years, eight months, one week, four days, and thirteen hours to be more precise. However, I cannot be exact to the very minute and second without further calculation.”
‘Yes, yes,” said the Mayor, taking out a handkerchief to blot his perspiring forehead and neck. “Well, our thinking is that the— um — unknown party, whatever it is — might be happy that we’ve found a change we like. And if that is the case, why, they might just go and leave us alone. It is worth a try, don’t you think? Especially since the other way — the constant building of new contraptions to undo new challenges — well, that doesn’t seem to be working all that well, does it? Just think, Russelclass="underline" no more peach town or lemon town or bubbly town, or talking in numbers or having flippers for hands. No more of any of those things. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to finally be a normal, average American town again? And perhaps they will even remove the force field and then I’ll be able to take my family to Hawaii for a vacation. And who knows? Maybe Jackie will become a Hawaiian and decide not to come back home!”
The Mayor laughed at his own joke, but no one joined him.
“And what happens to all of the limbo children?” asked the Professor. “Will they ever get to go to Hawaii, or will they have to live the remainder of their days in a cloud?”
Miss Lyttle raised her hand as if she were one of her more enthusiastic pupils. “I would like to say something. I would like to suggest that your time might be better spent, Professor, using your scientific abilities to find the missing children, rather than working on this silly machine.”
“It isn’t silly!” exclaimed Becky.
“Not only is it not silly, it’s probably the best way we have to bring our friend Petey and all the other missing children back to Pitcherville,” added Rodney.
“And do you feel that way too, Professor?” asked Mayor Stovall.
Professor Johnson nodded.
“Then I will have no choice but to put it to a town vote. And since the voting age in Pitcherville is twenty-one, I have no doubt that we will win, because it is the older citizens of this town who have the most to gain by leaving things the way they currently are.”
“And when do you intend to have your vote, Mr. Mayor?”
‘Well, today is Tuesday and we must properly notify everyone and get the ballots printed. I see no reason why we shouldn’t be able to hold this vote by Thursday.”
“So that gives me two days to finish my machine.”
“You would do best to suspend your efforts now, Professor,” said the Mayor matter-of-factly, “and go and get some rest. Who knows how long it will take you to finish your invention, if ever?”