Читать книгу Apprentice Lost in Parallel - Kevin Colbran - Страница 2

"Well, here I am early again with 30 minutes to kill," I thought arriving at Ultimo Tech College (Biggest TAFE in the Free World) with the (sweet?) smells wafting in from the Kent Brewery on Broadway and the Sun Herald newspaper printers. The College consists of several purpose-built schools interspersed with shops and homes which were taken over to house offices and external courses altogether covering an area of roughly a square kilometre; interlaced with a labyrinth of streets and laneways.

Having entered the concourse of the Mechanical Campus from the car park end, I had walked past the stairs leading up to the Aircraft Maintenance School where I was to spend most of the day alternating between practical and theory classes. I was looking down the concrete hallway contemplating possibilities when something attracted my eye to the lift door opening nearby, and a man stepped out. On impulse, I slipped past the doors before they could close.

Looking around as the doors slid shut the row of buttons caught my attention. 'That's odd there are fourteen numbers including #13, doubly remarkable since there are only five floors in this building.' Not suffering from tridecaphobia, on impulse, I pressed the #13. The lift gave a strange lurch like it was going sideways, twisting as well as up. Lucky for my stomach this only went on for a few seconds.

The door slid open, revealing a corridor lined with lift doors of all sizes, whereas there should be only one alongside on an extended concourse. To quote Dorothy, ‘We are not in Kansas anymore, Toto.’

Failing to curb my curiosity I stuck my head out around the doors just as I heard 'bat twitter'; well you can imagine my surprise as at first glance it looked like a bunch of human-sized spiders coming down the hallway. Pulling my head back in, I desperately punched the 'door close button to no avail. "Well, what have here? Step out and let's see who we have.” When I remained, the cultured sounding voice coaxed, "Come on now I won't bite."

Tentatively I stepped out and was surprised to see a clown head perched on what seemed a natural face which in turn was sitting on shoulders and hairy arms.

"Come along, follow me," 'Clown head' said turning away down the corridor. Then noticing that I wasn't following, said somewhat testily. "Come on now; I haven't got all day."

I started to follow, and then one of the smaller spiders grabbed my bag. Surprised I protested. "Hey, that’s my lunch." There was a burst of the bat squeak, and then all of us moved off down the hallway, with no further drama. Clown head opened an office door and motioned me in; a Twitter apparently ordered the other spiders to go about their business. Following me in, Clownhead moved around to the other side of a low-slung desk, taking the clown head off like a hat and placing it on a corner. Giving his head a quick hand wipe, he reached into a drawer and pulled out something like a hairnet. He gave the net to me, with the clown head saying "Place this on."

Doing so, the apparent source of the speech now returned to Clownhead, "You may call me Silvertoe." holding up one foot adorned with a silver toenail to demonstrate why.

"Hello, my name’s Steve; Nice to meet you," I replied.

"Another one. What date and place are you from?" Silvertoe asked.

Despite being puzzled, I responded, "August 6, 1963, Sydney, New South Wales."

Holding a hand up to indicate enough, "Right, let’s see," Touching the top of the desk, which sprang into life with lines of writing and little pictures, touching several he announced "I have your origin now. I suppose you have a few questions?" When I stood there quietly; hopefully with mouth closed. Silvertoe carried on, "I will start then, now to flesh out the background, suppose you are walking down the road, and you come to a Y junction, you have no particular place to go, so you make a choice left or right. Each is as valid as the other. Following me?" I nodded, so he continued. "Having made a decision, there are now two worlds. We won't go into the mathematics just yet; potentially every decision made by each person creates a new world. Therefore theoretically the total is trillions, each with its’ timeline and future. In practice when two parallel worlds converge they merge with no one the wiser, and when the alternate world isn't viable, it also disappears."

"In my world's case, when my remote ancestors came out of the trees they had three pairs of limbs, and in your language, we could be called centaurs. Observe." With a few hand motions, a couple of figures appeared then rotated so that I could see a human like myself side by side with a spider/centaur standing on its’ hind legs. Another flick and two skeletons replaced them, and similarities were now very evident, the biggest difference being the shoulders supporting the extra limbs.

"Better have a stand-in while you are visiting." He flicked the screen, a view of a street and shop windows appeared, "Stop, turn left," now the window reflection showed the person who had stepped out of the lift at the start of the story. A couple of touches and then the picture changed to the clothes I was wearing. And now the face looked just like the one I had seen in the mirror this morning. Now dressed in the green jumper with grey work pants that I wore. "That's 457, an android or human form robot. He will join your class and then fill in for you until you return home. Since we have been studying your counterparts for years, he is fully programmed to act just like you."

Then a bell chimed, "Drat, someone just can’t get along without me; I will have to go out for a minute.Stay here and entertain yourself for a bit, shouldn't be too long, and then I’ll tell where your next destination." He replaced the clown head and then trotted out the door; only pausing to close it behind him.

Looking around, I located a chair beside the bookshelf, grabbing a book at random I sat down to fill in the time.

The title was 'Europe 1920 to 1950' by Adolph Schicklegruber.

'Odd yet familiar name' I thought, and then remembered that had been Hitler’s name before he took over Germany. Flicking through the pages there seemed to be no reference to the Second World War, which had finished a year before I was born. There was a confrontation between Russia and Europe; this had resolved to the 'Cold War' situation as I remembered. The next was similar except by Adolph Hitler and describes Germany reaching a peace agreement after the Poland invasion when confronted by the Allies and then joining the allies to confront the Russians who had invaded Poland from the East. Not able to concentrate on the books, I stood up and went to the window. Looking out onto a park which was not there in Sydney, within sight were several ‘spiders’ engaging in activities, sitting in the shade, running around and throwing balls, you know, just ordinary things.

Feeling a bit bored I opened the door and stepped out. Silvertoe's twin walked up, this time, with a 'Mephistopheles head' "There you are 267, follow me." Somewhat confused, I followed and then stopping at a lift door, he announced, "Into the lift you go, you have your instructions."

Doing as I was told, I entered the elevator; the doors slid shut reaching for the M button to take me home, 'Well, that's the end of that little adventure' the doors slid open onto the concourse I had left just a short time ago. Looking up at the clock I was shocked to see that the time was now late afternoon, for a couple of seconds, I thought 'Oops big trouble now ' until I remembered that `457’ was standing in for me.

One of my classmates walked by as I passed the bottom of the steps and looking puzzled, he asked,"How did you beat me down?"

I responded, "I know a shortcut, have to run." Knowing that the quicker I was, the less the traffic would be. Not quite running but I arrived at the car park to find that the old Morrie wasn't where I had parked it. Puzzled I looked around and spotted it a few cars away.

Feeling a bit silly for panicking, I started it up and joined the throng headed south down the Princes Highway. Slow it might be, but it beats walking to the train station, crowding into a carriage then standing for most of the trip and then finally walking the mile home. Finally arriving home in, Arncliffe, which overlooks Mascot Aerodrome also known as Kingsford-Smith Sydney International Airport where I was an apprentice with QANTAS, I parked the car, crossed to the back door and entered the kitchen.

Mum asked, "I thought you said the car was gone, and you would have to take the train instead?"

Puzzled because I hadn’t phoned, "Um, it was only a few spots over from where I thought I parked.”

"Right, tea should be ready soon, I’ll call you when it's ready," Mum directed.

“I’ll put away this stuff," Saying this I headed for my room. Contemplating the day’s events, I was trying to figure out how and if I should tell anyone. Suddenly the door flew open and in 'I' walked, mumbling, "How did the car beat me here?" Seeing me sitting on his bed, he demanded, "Who are you, and what are you doing in my room?"

Surprised I responded, "Steven and it’s my room." Then guessing, “Oh 457,” pulling the net out of my pocket and sticking it on; puzzle lit up his face as it did on mine when the expected sight of me looking back was instead a Classroom at tech. Thinking 'Oops wrong lift,' then said, "Sit down, and I will try to explain, not easy as I am not sure myself." I had just finished relating the story when Mum came in and asked, "And how do we explain that now you are twins?

I started to explain, but she told me it would have to wait till after tea before it was cold. So we followed her back to the kitchen to the dining table, it was amazing the looks we had from Dad and the others. "OK tea first, do you want anything Steve number two," Correctly guessing that I was an extra as I didn’t immediately sit down and eat.

"I'm not hungry as it is only a couple of hours from breakfast for me." I just grabbed an apple from my bag as according to my stomach clock it was only 9 AM. Everyone else hurried through the meal so that I could relate the story.

By the time, I had finished relating my adventure an hour had passed.

"Well if you are going to get home today, we had better drop you back to Ultimo before it closes. It's been nice meeting you though not much different; so there must be little difference between your and our world." Dad said.

Waving goodbye to my other family, Steve 1 and I climbed into the faithful old Morris Minor and headed back to town, hopefully for the last time. Having arrived at Ultimo Tech, I thanked Steven 1 for the help and walked up to the lift, putting my net back into position. Apparently, the net is the key because the lift doors slid open without pressing the call arrows, a lit lamp outside had indicated that it was on the third floor. The lift cubicle had the familiar #13 button, pressing this, followed by the now familiar twisting motion. The doors slid open onto the corridor, stepping out I first made a copy of the characters over the doors together with '= 267 +8 hours' to indicate the relationship to my world.

Having walked the route from and to the last door mentally, I decided that I had been short about 3 or 4. Gathering my courage, I approached the third set of doors, crossing my fingers I hit the open button stepped inside activated the #M waited till the doors slid open then checked to see where I had arrived. You can imagine my annoyance when the lobby that I could see was unfamiliar. 'Well’ I thought as I consulted my watch 'It is still only the morning at home, why not explore?'

Heading to what looked like the entrance, the sign on the doors read Heritage Building. No wiser I walked out to the footpath, the cars on the street were unfamiliar being lower and sleeker than what I was used to, some of the brand names I knew and some of the others I had never seen. I was nowhere near home, as the registration plates had QLD on them. Wandering up the road, I spotted a newspaper shop. The date on the local paper was 1993, 30 years later and the place was Toowoomba, never heard of it.

So next step have a look at a telephone book, taking a punt I looked up my name, now either a coincidence or not, so checking the phone I found another difference the price was ten times what I was used to paying. Hating to part with that much money I rang the number. After a few rings, a woman answered, "Hello, Who's calling please."

Improvising, I gave my Grandfather's name, Thomas, and asked if Steven originally from Sydney lived there.

"Yes, Steven will be excited to hear from you, he is not here at the moment he works in Toowoomba. Where are you?"

Glancing around, I located the Toowoomba Town Hall and conveyed this information. To which she gave me directions on how to get to the shop, approximately a 100 yards away. I said, "I had better check first. So that there is no embarrassment if I am wrong."

After hanging up the phone, I headed up the hill and crossed the road at the traffic lights, passing a large church and then passing the Shamrock Hotel following the directions that I had received. I located the shop, this being for television repair; this didn't exactly reassure me that I was correct. I entered the central door, and the shop itself was the first on the left. Something alongside the door buzzed as I entered, and a thickset man somewhat reminiscent of Dad, came out to the front and asked if he could help me. I told a thumbnail story of my circumstances.

He laughed and said, "Well I had a dream just like that a few years ago, even started to write a story about it. Wendy rang and told me I had a surprise visitor; you fill that description, though the hint was that it might be my son trying to find me."

"I thought using my grandfather’s name would be less confusing." I supplied.

"My first wife had the grand idea of naming him after his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father. So he rejoices to the name Thomas Samuel Steven. He and his sister returned to their mother about seven years ago. Last I heard he was in Adelaide." Steve three said.

"Long story I suppose?" I asked.

"Yes, perhaps I should hear yours first?" Steve three suggested.

Recounting the events of the day, which I was getting good at by now, Steven three as I thought of him as announced that the end of trading time had arrived he would shut up shop and head for home. Asking if I might like to catch up some more and perhaps have some tea. I agreed as stomach time was approaching lunch that would be good.

"I suppose I can bring you back a bit later; I had better call Wendy and tell to chuck another cup of water into the soup.”

After locking the shop behind him, he escorted around to the back of the shop to a carport. There was a red minibus, the 'Trusty' Tarago he called it.

Starting up, we drove out onto the road and turned right at the lights. There was a sign indicating Oakey. From the front seat, I could see the speedo run up to 60, after passing an airport, the sign indicated 80. Noticing my grip on the seat reassured me, "Kilometres per hour, about 47 miles per hour, A bit nippier than the old Morrie, Eh?”

As we passed a 100 sign and the van surged up to that speed, I agreed it was, though the other cars were having no trouble keeping up. Traversing about 12 miles of country we climbed a small hill, entering a small town and turned right into the first street, another right then finally left, arriving at number 6 and where we parked the van.

As we walked into the house together, Wendy met us and said, "Mm, isn't like I thought Tom would be, not blond, though he does look like you, poor thing."

Steve 3 poked his tongue at her, replying, "Actually he is not Tom, he is a younger version of myself from another world."

"God no!!" and then as we both rolled our eyes, let fly with some very unladylike language. "Sorry, one can be too much sometimes, but perhaps you haven't been corrupted yet."

Assuring her that as yet I hadn't, I launched into my story on how I arrived here and my dilemma. Steve 3 reminded Wendy of the dream and story he had tried to write in recent times.

"Oh yes, that one, poor Melynda only received a D for that." Wendy laughed.

From Steve’s grimace, I guessed that this had been a family joke. "It was so good the teacher thought it was plagiarised and just rewritten by Melynda," Steve 3 said aside to me then asked. "When's tea, my sweet?"

"Shortly, go and get changed,” Wendy said.

"Can't, have to run young Steve back to town after tea," Steve 3 advised.

"Okay if you must," Wendy accepted.

The meal having been served with the now familiar expectant audience and related my story yet again (for me). Having the routine now fulfilled, the whole family traipsed back to Toowoomba, Wendy having justified it had said, “Might as well go shopping while we are at it.”

Found the Heritage foyer open, fare-welled everyone, I then stepped into the lift with fingers crossed. "Here's hoping I get it right this time," I said to myself. Stepping out into Silvertoe’s corridor, again I copied the characters over the doorway, together with Toowoomba 93. Crossing my fingers I walked into the next, going through the process of character notation, button pushing and the doors to open. So far so good, Ultimo College, stop, check clock time against my watch, darn still out by an hour. ‘Time enough for an exploration,’ Looking out onto the car park, OK so far, cars the same as my era so am not far off.

Then I spotted the difference, most of the passing students were darker and looked aboriginal with only the balance being 'European’. Supposing the college library was in the same place I thought that would be a good place to do some research. There was the library, seeking out the history section; I found that about half the books were in English. Selecting one of these, it seems, Captain Cook did explore and found a moderately advanced civilisation up to the stage of trade and political federation somewhat ahead of the Maori culture. The local administration was quite welcoming and helpful. As time passed, commerce proceeded together with some migration, although without mention of convict transportation.

Strangely I had been getting a few startled glances; perhaps I reminded them of someone.

Given the time of day, this alternative would be in class or at work. Having established that this was not ‘my’ world, there was no point waiting around most of the day, just to have to explain everything again. I returned to the lift and the Transworld doors to try another.

The next door opened to a new location, still unfamiliar, so out of curiosity, I stepped out to explore. Going by the cars etc., this was still nowhere near my destination. So off for a stroll, first stop was at a newspaper shop; the area is Shoalhaven and the town of Nowra, the year 1979. Approximately 100 miles South of Sydney, as Steve 3 told me, he had been in the Navy near here. It was a charming country town with wide roads lined with trees and mostly low-set shops. Next stop, a phone box for the telephone book and there was my name. As I had been given a pocket full of change in case of need, I rang the number to inquire. I explained to the woman who answered the phone that I would like to talk to Steven on a family matter. Cheryl, his wife, said that he was home today and asked would I like to talk to him.

“Yes, that would speed things up, much appreciated,” I replied.

“Hullo,” came the familiar voice. “How can I help you?”

“This may sound strange, but I am you from an alternate world.” I began, “It still weird to me, but I'm lost you see, and as I find other places, I am touching base at each in the off chance that one of me knows the way home.”

“Strange, I’ll grant you that, I am afraid I wouldn't be much help in the getting home,” Steve 4 replied. “If talking helps, then perhaps we can meet and work something out.”

“Curiosity would be satisfied if nothing else. I’m at the phone box on the main street, opposite the paper shop.” I finished.

“Okay then, we will load up the car and see you in a few minutes.” Steve 4 said.

Finding a seat at the side of the street, I sat down to wait. A red station waggon pulled up, stepping out there was a familiar face wearing a woolly beard and glasses. From the passenger side a taller woman, Steve 4 introduced her as Cheryl, then from the rear, three children, Karen, Barry, and Sara, with me being identified as a cousin with the same name. The two older children were skinny and blond, so I guessed from the previous marriage of Cheryl’s. Sara on the other hand, short, brown hair, and a cheeky grin looked like my younger sister Sally at that age.

Steve 4 suggested a milkshake while we talked, everyone thought that was a great idea. The local milk bar proved to have the same quality milkshakes as I liked. While we were enjoying these, I gave a slightly abbreviated version of the day's travels. Talking to each other, I caught up with the current situation; it seems that ‘I’ was a petty officer in the Navy stationed at HMAS Albatross. He was waiting for transfer to HMAS Melbourne as ship’s company, something he wasn’t looking forward to, as Cheryl was expecting a child.

Without thinking, I asked. “Thomas?”

“What? That’s the name we thought about if the baby is a boy. Have no indication yet as to a boy or girl.” Cheryl and Steve said together.

“Um, just guessing, that was our Grandfather’s name.” was the lame explanation I put forward.

“No really?” Cheryl demanded.

“Well I haven’t been entirely accurate with you, I am a younger Steve, and I have met an older version. He mentioned that he had a son named Thomas.” This answer sounded a bit limp. I was starting to realise that further talk on the subject might bring out revelations best left unsaid.

Not mollified, Cheryl asked. “What year was this, and where?”

“93 and Toowoomba, Steve didn’t explain much past that the Navy retired the Melbourne after he left the ship. The replacement aircraft carrier purchase fell through because England needed it after a war in the Falklands. The Labour Government decided that we couldn’t afford a new ship, having been elected in the meantime.Therefore, the fleet air arm was reduced to helicopters only. Steve then took the option of transferring to the Army at Oakey in Queensland.”

Cheryl wouldn’t leave it alone. So she asked. ”And who else was there?”

“Well, understanding that it may not happen and a different decision could change everything.”

“Yes and what else are you covering up?” Cheryl kept digging.

“He had a different wife and the last he knew that Tom and Sara were in Adelaide, and that’s all I know.” This comment left the two of them puzzled by the way they looked at each other.

I went on, “I was on a short timetable and still trying to get home. As it is, my day is rapidly disappearing as this is the fourth place I have visited.”

“To give you an idea that any outcome is likely. Aboriginals who had been more advanced when Captain Cook arrived was the situation of the last place I visited,” I finished helpfully.

This explanation settled things a bit but being ever the loose lips; I added, "I guess that Steve only mentioned Tom because there had been a bit of trouble between Sara and Wendy." From Cheryl’s glare, I realised that was a mistake. Old and new wives are best not to be mentioned in front of the other apparently especially if children are in the mix.

“I had better get a move on before the day is out. Glad to have met you, Goodbye.” I finished. From the looks I received, my leaving was an improvement. Farewells exchanged I fled into the building with the lift. I hope I didn’t stir up too much trouble.

‘Well as they say’ I thought, 'Any day that you learn something new is not wasted.’

Trying the next door, I exited into the now familiar Toowoomba; I went through the routine of consulting the newspaper to determine the date. It was 2005 and later in the day, next step the phone call; ah, no listing for me though there was one for Wendy. Since I guess the connection between the alternates is myself at different ages, and this one was still active, therefore ‘I’ must still be here. So I rang Wendy and received the information; “Yes Steven lives in town, and he would still be out driving a taxi at this time of the day and normally be home around 5 pm.” She then gave me directions on how to get there.

This information was helpful but not too much so; as I received the feeling that all wasn’t right with them. I followed the instructions, and it involved walking about a mile or so. Arriving outside the address at the appointed hour, I knocked on the front door having confirmed that there was a red car parked in the carport. The door opened, and the oldest ‘me’ so far stood there adorned with a grey beard and minus the glasses. I introduced myself as Steve and then explained my quest. I could see by the understanding that he had had the dream.

“Come in, just cooking tea, if you are hungry I’ll throw a bit more on,” Steve 5 offered, “Haven’t poisoned myself yet,” He added with a smile.

“Thanks, never know when my next meal may be coming from,” I said; even though I had been only a part-time soldier a short time, I had already learned never pass up a meal or a rest.

Good to his word he placed another container full into the pot that was heating on the stove. “While that is heating I’ll show you something.” Saying this, he moved to what looked like a TV screen at the end of the room and typed something on a typewriter keyboard, “Here read this.”

Doing so, I was surprised to see my adventure written; up to the visit to the Aboriginal world. If not in the precise words, close enough to recognise what had occurred.

“That’s as far as I have been so far, keep losing books and computer discs, I have other fragments in the books that I scribble ideas.” Handing me a couple of notebooks, I read points about sleep rays and force shields, and of the theory behind the gateway used in the lifts.

I brought Steve 5 up to date on my adventure. He agreed that was the direction that the story was headed and added a couple of possibilities as to my progress to an ultimate scenario of the embodiment of the technology into our lives. This information delivered with a wry smile as the chance apparently had passed him. “Not to worry, I have been content with my lot, having had a career in aviation and electronics repair. Too bad the Chinese now make TVs too cheap to bother repairing nowadays.”

Reminiscing he said, “In your day the TV repairman arrived in a Rolls-Royce and would have the red carpet put out for him.” Laughing he added, ”By the time I started, the repair bill was still the same as over 30 years before; but they now complain of the cost. The repair cost in dollars was stable over the years not rising at all despite inflation; that is until the Chinese began making cheap TVs, making it cheaper to replace not repair. After closing the shop, I worked a couple of years as a civilian on Army helicopters. Loved the job but the contract was changed, and because I had annoyed Major Mac, I was put on the ‘B’ list; be somewhere else. Restarted a repair business, worked part-time in a TV repair shop and just to make life complicated started Taxi driving. The part-time shop closed and then I was offered a job full-time at another workshop. I am separated from Wendy though since I am always on call not that much apart. Did a years’ Bible College almost qualified as a Pastor; I will let you know doing homework at my age was a shock to the system. Then the bottom dropped out of TV repair, so I have now taken up full-time taxi driving. Not that it is bad, you meet a lot of different people, and now that I do the days, they are usually sober. The pay is not great, but with the service pension, I do well enough.”

Having finished the stew, I agreed that it was not likely to kill me and was nearly as good as Dad makes.

“I keep trying, one of these days I may crack the formula,” Steve 5 laughed and then asked, “Do you want to be dropped back to the Heritage Center or stay the night?”

“I suppose I had better keep moving, still early in the day for me. Either I find my home or run into Silvertoe again. Thanks for the meal and the talk. What’s the chance of a lift?” I asked.

“Yep no problem, come out to the car, and we can drive downtown,” He answered as he grabbed the car keys. “I just had a thought; if I can talk with Silvertoe, perhaps I can set something up for me here.” We then headed out the door.

The red car that I had seen before was a Mazda 2. He had carried three adults and two children down to Sydney in January with no problems. So there is no effort with just the two of us. The Heritage building was still open; we located, then entered the lift.

As I exited this time and looking at the next door, around the corner came the being with the ‘devil head’. “Darn not him again,” I grumbled as I ducked into the next lift to avoid any confrontation. Steve 6 stepped up to him to intercept, waving goodbye to me.

While the door opened as normal, I could see that the outside street was deserted, dirty with weeds growing in every crack. Not my world or time, but I thought I couldn’t go straight back, or I will run into devil head. Cautiously looking about I walked down the road trying to work out where I was. Could have been Sydney by the buildings, but deserted and very neglected. Determined not lose the sight of my lift I very tentatively explored the local area. A tattered newspaper billboard proclaimed martial law because of the epidemic. Part of the date was seventy-something; not reassuring or helpful. It may have been any time after that, according to the condition of the paper; even though the poster had been covered at some stage. Rustlings and dog howls echoing among the buildings put the hairs up on the back of my neck. Hoping that enough time had passed, I retreated to the elevator, re-entered, and activated the buttons. The doors rattled as something large ran into it just as the travel sensation moved me away.

Returning to Silvertoe’s world, I peeked past the doors and was relieved that the corridor was empty. So not waiting, I selected the next door and proceeded with the exploration. By now I was operating by habit, writing the symbols and position down for both the previous and now current with the comment about the last indicating that it would be avoided. Entering this `lift,' I went through the routine of pushing the #M and waiting for the disturbing sensations to subside and the door to open. `Ah, Toowoomba again’ I thought; as the corridor was the now familiar Heritage building which I had visited already. Checking the local date at the news agency it was about eight years later than the last time which would make `me’ about 66.

So off to the phone box to investigate, there was Wendy's phone and still no reference to my name. This lack wasn’t getting me home; so I rang and enquired, the information given was that Steve was driving his cab at the moment and that she would tell him that his cousin would be waiting at the Heritage Building. Thanking her, I hung up the phone and waited. After a few minutes, a taxi pulled up and parked, hopping out was a beardless and white-haired `me’, reminiscent of both Dad and Grandpa.

“Hi, Wendy rang and told me that I had a cousin waiting. Not that I remember any by that name, so here I am. Would you like to remind me who you are?” Steve 6 asked.

“I am not our cousin; I am you from another world,” I answered, and then asked, “Have you been writing about the parallel worlds by any chance?”

A look of comprehension came over his face as he said, “Oh the penny drops, and you are that lost soul that is looking to get home. That’s just ahead of the book where I have gotten to, but cheer up life should get interesting from now on.” Then he mused, “So the dream has a reality, pity I am almost past the time to take advantage. Still, I shouldn’t complain; I have had an enjoyable life which is far from over and not being a ‘Walter Mitty’ type, I haven’t tried to live out my dreams. Perhaps I may even have the option of getting a late education after Algy has finished.”

I wasn’t happy with the idea that further adventure would be reassuring and returned, “Sounds great I think, but I am getting used to it.”

“What I can tell you is that the journey is at a stage where it will become apparent, that the future is right,” He assured me, “So back into the breach and shortly you will be at the intermediate stop. So see you round like a rissole, eh-eh!”

I was just a little worried that perhaps as I get older that I may lose the plot. I farewelled Steve 6 and re-entered the lift to continue the travel. Perhaps it will be home as I hoped he meant.