Читать книгу Time - Roger Reid - Страница 15

“Fate, providence, destiny. So easy it would be to believe that Ashley Allen was born to discover fossil trackways at the Union Chapel Mine. Look at all the things that had to come together for him so to do.”

Dr. C. C. had a strange way of talking.

“Long ago. Long, long, long ago, a thing amazing happened.”

Dr. Curtis Carroll had told us we could call him C. C. He was older than my dad, so I felt strange calling him C. C. I had no problem calling him Dr. C. C.

“Five billion years into the deep, deep past, the ideal blend of hydrogen and helium congealed into a sphere with such mass that at its center there began a process of nuclear fusion.”

He was tall, an inch or two taller than Deputy Shirley Pickens. His skin was darker than a starless, midnight sky.

“Nuclear fusion, do you know what that means?”

The fact is I did know what that meant. Sometimes, though, even if you do know everything, it’s best to keep quiet. Besides, Dr. C. C. was doing a much better job of telling the story than I ever could.

“Nuclear fusion: that means this stuff, this hydrogen and helium that had been adrift in the coldest, darkest space, came together with such force that there was created light.”

Dr. C. C. had an odd accent, and sometimes his nouns, adjectives, and verbs didn’t line up the way I’m used to hearing them.

“Energy was created out of matter . . . can you imagine?”

Leah sat up straighter. She and I were sitting next to each other on the sofa in Dr. C. C.’s living room. She was to my right, and Dr. C. C.’s wife, Charlotte, was sitting to her right. The others were in various chairs around the room. Dr. C. C. was standing as he spun his tale.

“It was darkest dark. It was coldest cold. And then there was light and heat.”

Leah leaned forward. “The sun,” she said. “You’re talking about the sun.”

“Very good, child,” said Dr. C. C.

Child? There was something in the way he said “child.” It sounded more like “chil” with a long “i” sound and no “d.” Sometimes Dr. C. C. sounded South African, sometimes British, sometimes Jamaican, sometimes none of the above.

“And the good news for Ashley Allen and for you and for me is that from this mass of matter that coalesced into life-nurturing light there was enough stuff left over for there to be planets and moons. One of those planets had the fortune to be located in the circumstellar habitable zone. Do you know what that means, child?”

Leah said, “Well, I know what habitable means. A habitable zone would be a zone, or a place, where things could live. Circumstellar . . . that sounds like it might have something to do with a star . . . circum . . . means around . . . I think. So circumstellar would mean around a star . . . so circumstellar habitable zone would be a place around a star where things could live.”

“Very good, child,” said Dr. C. C.

I said, “The earth, third planet from our star, is in the circumstellar habitable zone, and our entire solar system is in the galactic habitable zone. We are somewhere between twenty-five and thirty thousand light years from the center of the Milky Way galaxy, and it’s doubtful life could exist outside of that range.”

Leah turned and gave me a look I had seen back in April when we were in the longleaf forest. It was a look that said, “You’re a know-it-all.”

Maybe I was showing off a bit. I just couldn’t sit there and let them think I was asleep on the couch.

“Excellent, Jason,” said Dr. C. C.

He called me Jason and not child. I liked that. I just wish I could figure out what accent he was using when he said it.

“So,” Dr. C. C. began again, “we here on earth are at the right place in the galaxy. We are at the right place in the solar system. But who can tell me the one other place we had to be so that everything would be oh so right?”

Dr. C. C. brought his large hands together at about chest level and fanned his fingers. He let his hands drift apart. They seemed to float about the room in opposite directions as if seeking an answer in the air.

I fixated on his left hand as it hovered between me and two people sitting side by side in chairs across the room. My focus shifted, and those two people became clear. That’s when it hit me.

I laughed. And I laughed. And I laughed. And I laughed. I laughed so hard I had to squeeze my belly. I thought I was going to die.

Leah jumped up and stared down at me.

“What is wrong with you?” she said.

I laughed harder.

Through my tears I could see that Dr. C. C. had crossed his arms. He did not look happy that I had destroyed his story.

“Dr. C. C.,” I struggled to say, “I’m sorry . . .” And then I laughed some more.

I clenched my eyes shut and tried to get control of myself.

No one said anything. With my eyes closed I imagined them looking at me—wondering if I had lost my mind. After what seemed like forever, my laughs became gasps for air. I had laughed myself right out of breath.

I opened my eyes, sat up straight on the sofa, and said, “Please, forgive me.”

Across the room, Deputy Pickens leaned back in his chair and folded his arms high across his chest. “Well, Jason,” he said, “I was wondering when it would get to you.”

I almost laughed again. Something in the deputy’s stern look and folded arms stopped me. Saved me.

The deputy released his arms and his stern look. He turned with a smile toward the man sitting to his left.

“Ashley?” Deputy Pickens said to Ashley Allen, “It’s tough, sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Shirley, it is,” said Ashley Allen.