Ride the Universe

Henry

Henry

The noon sun shone high and hot as Teddy and Tem left the theater, but the starry sky filled Teddy's imagination. The shade of the trees played over the boys, and a gentle wind blew from afar. Teddy's shadow fell over Tem.

Teddy peered between the leaves, catching a glimpse of the crystal-clear blue sky. "I know it was just a movie," he said, "but something in me believes it was true."

"None of that stuff could happen in real life." Tem furrowed his brow. "How could a valley change into a lake? But it sure would be cool if it could. Hey, Teddy, what did you mean when you said you saw Fu Hsi before seeing the movie?"

"That's the part that makes me believe it could be true. I know no one will believe me, but I've seen this Chinese man before. He appeared once next to Jean's picture. Sometimes I see his face flash in the distance. Last night in a dream he spoke to me. He said, 'I am Fu Hsi.'"

"In a dream?" Tem laughed.

"That's why I haven't said anything." Teddy shook his head. "I thought I saw him when the movie started. I see him, then nothing."

"Wow. I have dreams, but no one like that ever speaks to me." Tem stopped walking. "You saw him?"

"I swear he winked at me from the movie." Teddy looked into Tem's eyes. "I just know I've seen him before, but I don't know why or how."

"Sounds like my mom. I keep looking around for her. I swear she's nowhere in sight, but then, bam, she's yelling at me."

"Yeah, that happens to me, too, but it's supposed to. That's what moms are for. No," Teddy continued, "this is something different."

"It's hot." Tem wiped his brow. "Let's go." He broke into a stride.

Teddy stayed where he was and glanced at the Sun. "The Sun sure is powerful. Do you think the Stars, Sun and Moon could guide us, take us on some adventure?"

Tem turned around to face Teddy and skipped backward. "I don't know. My sister told me she saw the Moon through a telescope at school. She felt she could reach out and touch it. I'd love to get that close." Tem's hands reached skyward.

"I think the Moon has special powers. I'd like to go there," Teddy said.

Tem c****d his head. "Special powers?" He slowed and waited for Teddy to catch up.

Teddy fell silent. He'd said too much. He knew he could tell Tem almost anything, but not about seeing with some unknown power of the Moon. First Teddy had to understand those special powers. He had to think of an escape. He kicked a rock, which hit the curb and bounced up, just missing the taillight of a parked car. "Let's go see my dad's new Thunderbird," he said. "It's steel blue."

"New Thunderbird? Yeah, let's go."

Teddy always knew he could distract Tem easily. Together, the boys ran down the sun-soaked street towards Teddy's house.

Teddy had always marveled at how ideas create things, and how those things worked. One year a car had a certain look, but the next year the same car had new features and looked different. He remembered the first time he'd looked under the hood of his dad's car. He had loved the smell of the engine and the oily dirt and the heat buffeting his face. His dad, Don DeXue, had taught him how the engine worked. Fuel pump, cylinders, spark plugs, oil filter, and radiator were all remembered flawlessly in Teddy's head. Teddy understood machines, but the natural world stumped him and promised endless exploration.

"Hi, Mr. DeXue," Tem chirped when the boys arrived at Teddy's house. "Wow, she's a beauty. Looks like a metallic cloud. Can we go for a ride?"

"Hold on, Tem." Don DeXue's horn-rimmed glasses glistened in the sunlight. "Don't get in with your shoes on. She's just off the lot. I don't want your dirt in my car."

The boys flung their shoes in the air.

"Dad, this looks as if it could fly." Teddy's eyes and fingers ran over the Thunderbird's hard metal fins.

"Stop!" Don thundered. "Your mother's coming out soon and the two of us are going for a ride, so scamper."

"But Dad, you know it takes Mom forever to get ready. We could go around the block three times and she'd never know."

"Are you ready, Margaret?" Don hollered at the house. He didn't mean to holler, but things had been different since Jean's death. Margaret was often distant, and he wanted to make sure she heard him.

"I'll be down in ten minutes, Don. What's the hurry?" Margaret called back, her voice edged with anger. It seemed to her that their conversations had betrayed an unspoken irritation lately. She wondered how much she still loved her husband.

"Oh, Lord," Don mumbled, "take your time. I'm going to take Tem and Teddy for a short ride."

Don sighed and looked down. The half-moon of his belly seemed to touch the ground. He didn't consider himself fat, just a bit portly. For a long time, he had been a happy man. He had married his high school sweetheart and had three great kids, Teddy, Marisa, and Jean. He had grown up with a love for how things worked, and that passion had led him to study math and science. He had excelled at his studies, and now headed the physics department at City University.

Though physics required extensive use of mathematics, Don enjoyed using math to create something new. He loved to design electronic devices. His instrument room was full of strange-looking gadgets. This past year he had been spending more time experimenting to take refuge from sharp conversations with Margaret.

Teddy would often wander into his dad's instrument room and ask questions, which Don answered happily. He began to teach Teddy the principles of radio transmission. He had encouraged Teddy to build a radio. Teddy relished the challenge to think and build. He felt he could conjure anything from his dad's stuff if he could only dream it.

Don opened the door of the Thunderbird, and as fast as Olympic hurdlers, Teddy and Tem launched themselves over the console and into the passenger seat. Don froze in admiration of the young boys' agility. Long ago he, too, could move like that. He climbed in.

Teddy yelled, "Dad, you broke the steering wheel."

"No," Don explained, "the steering wheel was designed to swing away and then swing back into position for driving."

"Why?" Teddy examined the locking mechanism.

"Someone thought it would serve a good purpose," Don answered with a smile, "and allow larger people like me to get in and out of the car with ease. Are you ready for this, boys?" His grin pushed up his cheeks, moving his glasses over his bushy eyebrows. With the flip of a switch, the roof began to move.

"Wow, the top goes down," Tem screamed.

As the roof melted away, Don turned on the engine, placed the transmission in reverse and rolled back down the driveway.

"Stop!" Teddy cried.

His dad fumbled the brake, jerking the Thunderbird to a hard stop.

Teddy flayed his arms in a panic. "You just missed Henry."

Teddy's beloved cat, Henry, had strolled lazily across the drive from the neighbors' tree. An Egyptian mau, he sported a dark, spotted silver coat with bright gooseberry-colored eyes. Unaware of the danger, he'd been a whisker away from being plastered between the tire and the asphalt.

"You had me worried for a moment, Teddy." Don exhaled. "I thought we were in trouble."

Teddy hit the glove compartment. "But, Dad, you almost killed Henry."

On the driveway, Henry looked up into Teddy's eyes, meowed, and trotted off, tail high.

Teddy had good reason to love Henry. Henry was a different kind of cat. He always seemed to know what was going to happen next and be one step ahead of everyone else.

For grown-ups, Teddy thought their neighbors, the Buckleys, were great. They were aware of how much their daughter Jesse loved to swim and invited the neighborhood kids to use the pool to cool down in the Midwestern summer heat. Jesse was a grade behind Teddy. She had sparkling green eyes and long auburn hair. Teddy loved to swim with her. Sometimes it was hard to strike up a conversation with Jesse at school, but goofing around in the water, he didn't worry about what to say. Jesse could take a splash and splashed back hard. She was fun to be around.

When Teddy was seven, he decided to go for a swim in the Buckleys' pool by himself, as he had done many times before when the Buckleys weren't home. Henry, who could get to any place he wanted, had perched himself on the gutter of the Buckleys' roof. Teddy backed away from the edge of the pool, ran and dove in. At that precise moment, Henry made his move. He jumped down and slammed his body hard against the gleaming glass patio door. The Buckleys' slumbering gray-haired schnauzer, George, startled awake, barked, and growled loudly enough to wake up bats and owls.

Darlene Buckley was home on this particular day. Hearing the commotion, she opened the patio door just in time to see Teddy slip, crash headfirst into the side of the pool, and fall into the water. She heard the sickening thud and watched in horror as blood mixed with the water. As she dove in after him, part of her couldn't help admiring the beautiful crimson life dispersing through the clear water.

Teddy was knocked out cold, with his momentum carrying him to the bottom of the pool. Darlene got him quickly to the surface, where he spat out water and regained his breath, and then sent Jesse to get bandages. Jesse had studied Teddy's face while her mom carefully closed the wound.

Henry had sauntered off. He had protected Teddy, and that was all that mattered. A stitch or two at the doctor's and Teddy came away bearing the wound of survival. He recovered with the memory of that dive etched in the hairline scar on his forehead.

Now, Henry climbed a tree, and Don and the boys set off in the Thunderbird.

Chapter 4