Home in Time for Breakfast

My brother Frank was always the smart one. He always got fantastic grades, went to Monash, and is now a professor of some-such institution or other; he has told me so — no, he has rubbed it in many times. But quite frankly I really don’t give two hoots about it. What makes him happy is fine with me. He can keep it. I just wish he would lighten up, relax and just accept things as they are between us. He’s the smart one, I accept that. He doesn’t have to gloat all the time. Plain and simple.

Today was his birthday, and naturally, in his obscure, irritating, and confounding way he left a message on my answering machine. The light was blinking at me as soon as I got up. He must have left it in the middle of the night. Damn typical.

He said he wanted to see me straight away. Who does he think he is? I mean, I was going to see him anyway. I always did. Why must he be so, so melodramatic about things. Ahh, he’s infuriating sometimes. No, actually he’s infuriating all the time.

I played the message again as I fumbled for my car keys by the hall table. He did sound excited about something.

“Michael, come quick. I have something awesome to show you. I don’t have to tell you that this can’t wait, because I really don’t think that you would fully understand. So just come and see.”

See, infuriating. How I put up with him is anyone’s guess. I frowned, perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was my only sibling and much younger than myself. Sometimes I really hated being the bigger brother. There seemed to be an inherent responsibility with that role that sometimes I just did not want to know.

I pulled into his driveway. A neat and impressive driveway that led up to an equally neat and impressive house. There was one thing about my brother: he liked the finer things in life. A point he mentioned, like everything else, all too frequently.

I knocked on his door. He always liked visitors to announce themselves, no matter who they were. Another frustrating and downright annoying trait of my brothers if there ever was one. Family, Bah!

There was no answer after a few moments. Was he trying my patience by deliberately not answering? Especially when he knew all too well that I was here. He summoned me, after all.

I knocked again. Still no answer. Right, that tore it. I was mad. If there was one thing that I hated — well, I hated lots of things, but being made to wait outside someone’s door when they knew I was there. That made me really mad. Oh, and it was just plain rude, too.

I pulled my keys from my pocket in frustration. Peeling back each key on the ring with force until I got to my brother’s spare. I jammed it in the door and entered. I really did not care how he was going to react to that. I just felt like socking him one on his pretty-boy face right about now.

I quickly noticed that the house was empty. My mood changed from that of a bull being given the red flag to that of concern. If he knew I was coming, and indeed he did, why was he not here? I then checked his study. If he was going to be anywhere and not announce himself it was surely there. He seemed to be in there a lot lately.

I entered his study. In it was his old wooden table, his oversized arm chair and a massive bookcase. Just like it always had been. Frank, however, was nowhere to be seen. This was indeed odd.

I was just about to turn and leave when I noticed a note on the table. Curious, I naturally picked it up.

“Dearest Michael” it began.

God he was infuriating. When did he ever call me dearest? I really did owe him a punch. The damn little upstart. I swallowed hard and continued to read.

“If I am not back for breakfast on my birthday please come and get me. Something may have happened if I am not here with you right now —”

Something may have happened? What sort of thing was that to write? Something may have happened indeed. Yeah, I’ll bet something happened. I’ll bet that when I see him again I’ll see to it that it does happen. I sighed, unfortunately there was more to this cryptic letter.

“Please sit down in the chair, Michael. You may notice that there are a few buttons on it. I have made it simple to follow —”

I glanced at the chair in question. Sure enough there were three buttons on the left arm. Two green, one red. I continued to read, ignoring the making it simple crack in the letter. I just knew it was a snide reference as to his perception of my intellect. All This, however, was somewhat intriguing, and really had ignited my curiosity. I bet he knew that would happen too. Damn Frank. Damn family.

“The chair is only the ‘vehicle’ in which you will travel. Yes, Michael, I have invented something. Something profound. I can travel in time, Michael. Just think of it. IN TIME! And just in case you were wondering, the actual machine is far bigger than you can comprehend. I begins in my lab —”

Again, another reference. I winced, but read on. Realising that I was now sitting in the chair. I glanced passed the paper I held in my hands and looked at the buttons. The top green one said: Forward. The bottom green one said: Backward. The red one did not have any words on it but I could guess its purpose.

“I have set the co-ordinates to the exact time that I visited last. All you have to do is press the backward green button. When the screen flashes amber, don’t be alarmed. (It is only a signal to tell you that have reached the pre-set destination) Immediately press the red button to stop the machine —”

Now I really was confused. What screen? What machine? And more importantly, what the bloody hell was going on?

“See you soon, signed Frank. P.S. hopefully I am all right!”

Was he just showing off or was he just naturally a jerk? Knowing him, he was naturally a jerk. But this seemed different somehow. If he really was showing off he would be here right now, rubbing it in my face. I thought about it for a long time. I thought about it for so long in fact that I could not estimate the time that had passed. It seemed like an eternity. I felt like just getting up and leaving. Stuff him and his eccentric ways. Serve him right if he was in trouble. I thought.

I looked down at the green backward button. It was an intriguing notion. Imagine travelling in time. I smiled.

Finally, after much soul searching, and also I actually had to admit that I was a little concerned for my brother, I pushed the green backward button.

Immediately a holo-screen appeared in front of my face. On it was written the date: March 15th, 2005. Before I could blink the date changed: slowly at first, March 10th, 2005. Then it went back from there quicker and quicker the longer I watched.

January 15th, 2002 flashed before my eyes. It was quite thrilling just watching the numerals go backwards. Not because that was all that was required to excite me — no, it was because, knowing that I was supposed to be in the control chair of a time machine, that this was actually happening.

January 9th, 1999 seemed to come round rather quickly. Then, with another blink of an eye the date read: April 18th, 1927.

My head was spinning with the now blurred numbers and letters that just whirred faster and faster on the holo-screen until they were unintelligible. I tried to keep up with them, but could only occasionally grab information from that blur.

The last date I remembered before the screen blazed orange was: June 30, 1880. I stabbed the red button.

The holo-screen disappeared, as did Frank’s house. I was suddenly standing in the middle of a railway platform of all things. I looked up at the sign swaying gently in the breeze; squeaking as it did so. Glenrowan it said. I then had a terrible sinking feeling.

Not only did this time machine work -god my brother was the smart one — but I was also in a place, from what I remember from my high school history, as a place that I would rather not be at — for if this was Glenrowan he could really be in a pickle.

I decided there and then to see where my brother was. If nothing else it would give me satisfaction enough to see him; just so I could snack him one for being such a smart ass. Inventing a time machine; what a show-off.

I looked around the railway station. It seemed to be deserted. I knew the date meant something. And really knowing my brother he would not have chosen a random date. He would have chosen an important date, for he, unfortunately, was just as curious about things as I was.

It looked like it was just after dawn. The magpies had began their carolling, as had all the other birds; even a kookaburra or two laughed in the distance. I had to think about what had happened here. It was sure taxing remembering history. And I cursed myself for not paying attention all those years ago — well, I was paying attention, but it happened to be of the female variety, that’s all. Damn my stupid hormones. Damn Frank and his invention. Where the heck was he?

I then remembered the date again. June 30. It came to me like a bolt of lightening. June 30 was the date that, oh, darn that was the date Ned Kelly walked into the police line, basically giving himself up after the siege at the Glenrowan hotel. I looked around in desperation. All seemed calm now, but soon things were going to get interesting.

I noticed a shotgun by one of the buildings. Picking it up I found comfort in the fact that it was loaded. I wondered who it belonged to, but then quickly dismissed that thought; I had no time for such pondering. This whole situation was sure creeping me out.

But where was Frank? I could think of nothing else to do but run into the bush just beyond the railway station. Mist swirling about my feet as they pounded the soft sandy ground. Onward I ran. To what, I did not know. I just knew I had to get away from that railway station. I also knew that I had to find Frank, if only to get us out of here. I had no idea how to get back to 2005. Damn my curiosity.

I was almost bowled over in my blind run by what lay on the ground. Thankfully I managed to catch myself from falling by desperately gripping onto an overhanging branch of one of the stringy bark trees that populated the area in such great number.

I turned, on the ground was a man; large, bearded, and half dressed in the now famous armour of Ned Kelly. Holy crap, it was Ned Kelly; I looked just like him — or more to the point, he looked just like me. And he looked rather worse for wear let me tell you. The poor man had obviously lost a lot of blood. He was wounded. I could see that even in the early dawn light. I then saw something that chilled my blood.

Just beyond the great man that was Ned, there lay Frank. He too looked injured. My brother, my little brother, dressed like a policeman of the 1880’s, had been captured by Ned Kelly.

“FRANK!” I screamed. I could think of nothing else to say. Before I knew it Ned was up on his feet and coming towards me; he was obviously as surprised as I was by all this.

It all happened so fast those next few moments. I could see him approaching me. I could hear him saying something — actually, shouting something. But to me it was incoherent, unintelligible even. I did not know the how or why of it, but I raised that shot gun and fired. Call it self defence, call it insanity. I could not tell in my current confused condition.

All I know, and all that I could remember from that moment was the smell of the gun powder and the ringing of the shot gun. But one thing was certain: I had just killed the most famous figure in Australian history. I had just killed Ned Kelly.

“Why you stupid son-of-a- AHH! You’re such a dumb ass,” Frank screamed at me.

“What the —”

“Don’t ‘what the’ at me. Have you not heard of the butterfly effect?”

“No... well, yes. It was a movie, wasn’t it?” I replied, rather shocked by all that had just transpired. I could now clearly see that Frank’s arm was injured.

“A what?” Now it was Frank’s turn to be dumbfounded.

“A movie... you know the one staring, Aston Kutcher... The butterfly effect you mentioned.”

“Err, no, Michael,” Frank sighed. “Well, yes, the idea of the movie was basically the same as what I —”

“I really don’t know,” I snapped.

“Don’t know what?”

“About it... I can’t stand, Aston Kutcher — well, not since he’s been with Demi anyway.”

Frank had that look on his face. The look that he always seemed to get lately when talking to me. A look that could only be described as that of the ‘calm before the bomb dropped’ look. His cheeks were gaining quite a colour as he stood, stupefied by what I had said to him. He obviously found it irritating. I smiled. Glad that I had annoyed him.

“Well, even though you don’t deserve it, I’m going to tell you anyway.” He forced himself to say. “Any moment from now, Ned, the one you just filled with lead, was going to return to the Glenrowan hotel in search of this brother and his friend. His cousin had only just left. Do you know what this means? Do you?”

“No, I don’t. He dies anyway, doesn’t he. So what the difference? I just put him out of his misery sooner. I’d rather die quickly than be hanged, wouldn’t you?” I replied, proud of myself that I had stuck up for myself.

“You are not only stupid, you’re an idiot, too,” Frank frowned. It was the worst feeling I had ever had, seeing him frown at me and hearing him say those words with such feeling.

I could only reply by retaliating. “Well, we wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t been so smart and invented that machine. You’re, you’re the most short-sighted smart person I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. So there!” I snorted.

“We have to fix it,” he suddenly said, looking down at the now lifeless body of Ned Kelly.

“What?”

“We have to make sure Ned Kelly goes to that hotel. We have to make sure he gets captured by the police, and more importantly, we have to make sure he gets hanged for his crimes. Otherwise —”

“Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise, history could be damaged... Forever. That’s what the butterfly effect is about. Change a small thing in the past, and well, it could have desperate consequences for the future. I shudder to think of what may or may not happen”

I sighed, as if emphasising the sheer hopelessness of the situation. “How are we supposed to do that? I mean, from what you are telling me we can’t simply just travel back a bit and, well, make sure this doesn’t happen.”

“Time is a funny thing. It’s sort of like a very temperamental photocopier, for the lack of a better analogy; you never know quite what to expect and it certainly never does what it’s supposed to,” Frank began. “Changing one thing is bad enough, changing another to fix an error is like playing with a bomb. I certainly would not like to do that and I really, really don’t want you to do any more damage to the time-line —”

“Hey! You’re the one that got me into this mess,” I said, folding my arms. “It was you that left me that note. ‘Dearest Michael, if I’m not home in time for breakfast on my birthday, come and get me. Help me. I’m useless. I can only invent a time machine. I really have no idea’...”

“Enough!”

“Enough, or what?”

“Enough, or I’ll... so help me... I’ll,” Frank had that look on his face again. But this time his fists were clenched, and I could see that he was really trying with all his might to control himself.

“Go on then. Hit me. See how far it will get you.”

There was a long silence between us. Well it seemed like a long silence. We just stared at each other like gunmen did just before a duel.

It was Frank that finally spoke up. “You’ll have to be... Ned... Kelly. We... can’t change history.”

I blinked slowly, then opened and closed my mouth. I noticed that nothing came out. I wanted to say what a stupid and complete idiot he was for even entertaining such a notion. But really he was probably right. I did understand some things; I knew playing around with time was probably not right. besides, I was about Ned’s height and build; and really a natural choice.

But really, the main reason; the one that clinched it for me was the simple fact that I could not think of anything else to do that could get us out of this without dramatic consequences for everyone. Damn my normal intelligence. I’m sure, if I was as smart as my brother I could have thought of something else. I could not. I kicked myself — yes, I physically kicked myself. Frank, I noticed, did not seem to care what I looked like as I did so. He knew, like I knew, that we just had to do something to help rectify this mess.

“Promise me one thing, Frank.”

“Anything, Michael.”

“Promise... Promise that you won’t let me hang.”

Frank smiled. “I am already a member of the local constabulary. It won’t be too difficult gaining access to certain places. Besides,” he winked, “I have a plan.”

“Oh dear.”

“Don’t be like that,” he said as he squatted down by Ned’s body. “Here, put on his clothes and armour, and prepare to meet history head on, dear brother.”

I sneered, “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t now, would I?”

“How, in god’s name are you going to get Ned’s body into the gallows, seeing as he’s already dead. Don’t forget, just before they... well, you know, he said that famous line, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah... What was it?”

“Something about ‘such is life’ or some such thing from what I remember.”

“Yeah, that’s right. He said: ‘Arr well, I suppose it has to come to this. Such... is life’. What a great line to die with, I must say,” Frank said, imitating a growl as he quoted Ned’s line. Which seemed funny, we really did not know what he sounded like. I really didn’t give him a chance to say too much at all.

“You really are enjoying this,” I said as I clambered into Ned’s trousers.

“Do you think, Michael, that I came ill-prepared?”

“Now let me see... Yes, I do. You got yourself into trouble for a start. Fancy getting captured by the very man you were studying. Actually, for that matter, why disguise yourself as a law enforcement officer? I mean really, that’s like... well, I don’t know what it’s like, but it’s damn stupid if you ask me. Why else do you think I’m here, other than saving your backside.”

“Besides that,” Frank smiled. “Anyway, I was in no real danger. Ned... Ned has a destiny, after all.”

“Show-off,” I mumbled under my breath as I struggled putting on the breast plate. “Gimme a hand with this, will you? This weighs a tonne.”

Moments later we were ready. After a lot of swearing about how I was supposed to do anything in the armour, let alone walk: I was not used to this armour like Ned was. I felt ridiculous, and part of that reasoning was that I was now the prime target of every police officer in the state of Victoria. And I made Frank perfectly aware of my feelings, too.

“Now, get to that hotel. Pronto!” Frank said. “Oh, and don’t forget, you’re supposed to be wounded in your arm, hand, and foot. So limp like you are, all right.”

“You’re really pushing your luck,” I said as I turned back to him. I noticed he was already dragging Ned’s body away.

“I have to get this body to safety. Then I will get to my supplies. Like I said earlier: I came prepared. Just remember, I won’t let you down, Michael.”

“Smart ass!”

I made my way to the hotel. As the sun rose higher in the sky, and the last of the mists swirled by my feet, I, disguised as Ned Kelly went back to Glenrowan as it was written in the pages of history.

I stepped out into the open, the hotel and railway station in sight again. I could not hear very well under the great iron helmet. In fact it was almost impossible to do anything. I trudged on, putting on my fake limp; which was kind of funny, seeing as Frank didn’t tell me which foot I was supposed to be shot in. I dismissed that thought, besides, I don’t think it really mattered at this stage.

My view of the world was only what I could see through the slit in the helmet. The next thing I remember there was a lot of shouting. Suddenly policemen, dressed like my brother, were in front of me. I saw them step back as I approached. Were they afraid of me? I shook my head. It was not me that they were afraid of. It was Ned. My breathing reverberated through the helmet. This was eerie.

Then all hell broke loose. I could hear the bullets bounce off the armour; with a metallic pinging noise that sounded like heavy rain on a tin roof. It was quite surreal, but I marched on. Then I felt a searing pain in my left leg. Then another, this time in my right. I had been shot, and due to the force of the bullets that had found my legs and the weight of the armour, I fell to the ground. I looked up, the perfect cobalt blue sky above. Then, obscuring that view were the faces of all those policemen. I, as I was supposed to be, had been captured.

I woke in a jail cell with Frank looking over me. “You have to sit tight for a while,” he whispered. “Remember, Ned has to be put on trial... Don’t worry, Michael.”

I groaned.

“They have done the best they can to see to the wounds. But when we get back, I’ll make sure you are better treated. I promise.”

I groaned again, adding: “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Only after this is all over... Then I’d like to see you try,” Frank smiled.

I blanked out again.

In the few months that followed I was paraded in front of the people of Melbourne, given a sham trial, and sentenced to execution by hanging until I was dead. All as it was supposed to be. Frank helped me all the way; making sure I acted as Ned would have — sorry, did act; I get confused so easily.

It then came to the day before the execution, a Wednesday I believe: November 10th. And I have to be honest, I was more than nervous. You could say I was in a state of panic. I had not heard from Frank in nearly a week — well, not since the trial thirteen days ago anyway.

I really could not do anything other than sit on the cell bench and feel sorry for myself. I looked down at my hands, sighed, and then thought about what would have happened if I didn’t press that backwards green button. Damn my curiosity.

Just then the cell door clanked. I straightened up and in walked Frank. What a relief that was let me tell you. I had never been so happy to see him.

“Were have you been?” I snapped.

“Busy... It’s not easy setting up a dead man so he can be hanged, you know. Do you even realise the inherent problems involved with preserving a body in the 1800’s for months? Mmm, do you?”

“No, Frank,” I said, looking down to the cell floor. “I don’t — what do you mean, preserving a body? What have you got planned?”

“Never mind, you’ll find out tomorrow. I don’t want to get caught up explaining it to you —”

“Oh, I see, not smart enough to understand,” I said with venom.

“What? Calm down, Michael —”

“Calm down! Calm down! You’re not the one in my place... You’re not the one about to be hanged.”

“Really. So you think I’ve been doing nothing all this time. Yeah, that’s it, I’ve been seeing the sights. Great place here,” Frank spat. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?”

“How dare you,” I said standing up. The shackles clanking as I did so, reminding me all to well of the situation. “I’m just not good enough for you am I? An embarrassment —”

“Oh, now you’re being ridiculous,” Frank said, standing defiantly in front of me. He then put on his best whiny voice and said: “Look at me, I’m poor Michael. Everyone look at me, I’m such a martyr. Boo hoo.”

There was a sliding noise, and the peep hole in the cell door was slid open. “Is everything all right in here, sir?” A voice bellowed from beyond.

Frank turned to the door. “Yes. Yes, thank you. I’ll be out in a minute, officer.”

The cover slid back. There was now a silence.

This time, however, I broke it. “I will be a... martyr; to millions, if you don’t get me out of this, Frank.”

Frank turned to the door, obvious that he had heard enough. “First thing tomorrow I will transfer you to the condemned cell. It will be there that I will make the switch. Be prepared to shave —”

“What, my beard?”

“Yes, your beard,” Frank said. “Having a beard is kind of bad for your health right about now... know what I mean.”

I nodded.

Just as Frank was about to open the door to the cell, he added: “Oh and, Michael, know this if things don’t turn out for the best. Know that I have always looked up to you... You have been my pillar all these years.” And with that he left.

It was the longest night of my life. I just lay there on the bench staring at the ceiling. Making shapes in my mind and thinking about the last thing my brother had said to me. The sentence reverberated through my mind. I had been his pillar. That one sentence hit me like a tonne of bricks. It was possibly the most important thing I had ever been told in my life. Damn Frank, why did he have to be so honest?

The cell door was flung open. In the doorway stood Frank.

“It’s time,” he said solemnly.

“I don’t suppose there’s a chance of a retrial?”

Frank smiled. “It’s all taken care of, big brother.”

He then unlocked the shackles from the wall and escorted me to the condemned cell; as it was supposed to happen.

We arrived quicker than I would have liked. If my hands weren’t shackled together with my feet I would have bitten my fingernails to their quicks by now. I was a complete nervous wreak. The sweat, from the sheer fear of all this, beaded down my forehead.

“Get in,” he commanded once he had unlocked the door with one of the massive keys that hung from his belt. He was obviously putting on a show; as I did notice a lot of guards looking on with curious glances and snide remarks. Frank, I believe deserved an Oscar for his acting; he very nearly convinced me that he was a hard-as-nails prison officer.

Inside the cell it was just like any other. Once inside Frank’s demeanour changed. He was again my little brother.

“Here, quick, start shaving and get into this uniform,” he said as he rummaged under the bench, handing me the required equipment to accomplish such a thing. “I’ll drag out our dead friend.”

“What, he’s not under the bench as well?”

“Where else would he be?”

“Oh my god! I just don’t believe this,” I said, clambering as quick as I could into the prison guard’s uniform. “How long has he been in here?”

“Long enough to defrost just enough,” Frank said in an off-handed manner. He suddenly looked just as nervous as I was. “Quick, Michael, we don’t have much time. Get on with it.”

Frank then produced the body. It was the most hideous thing I had ever seen in my life. He was blue for a start. How were we supposed to pass him off as a living, breathing person I will never know.

I had finished shaving, and I must admit it took at least ten years off me. I suppose that was Frank’s plan all along. I could see that having any resemblance to Ned would certainly be hazardous right about now. Frank had dressed Ned in my old prison outfit. It all seemed to be complete; all that was except that Ned could not walk, talk or react.

“Now, shackle yourself up,” Frank said in his best authoritative voice.

“Damn, I just got out of those damn shackles. I’m not getting back into them.”

“How else is Ned going to walk if we don’t support him?”

“Oh.”

“Yes, Oh. Now quickly. It’s almost time.”

Just as we had finished securing ourselves to Ned the door to the condemned cell opened. It was indeed time.

We walked Ned to the gallows. Ever so slowly, but we got there. Frank’s plan to secure Ned to us worked perfectly. We had control of his hands and feet; and I must admit, he had defrosted just enough so that his body was not too stiff and unmanageable. I shuddered at the thought of all this. It was macabre to say the least.

Frank I noticed seemed to be enjoying himself. He even managed to smile in my direction from what I could make out from the corner of my eye. I simply did not have the courage to look in his direction, for I was afraid that I might see Ned do something he was not supposed to; like have a limb or something fall off him for example. That would be all we would need right about now.

Frank, in his wisdom had even placed the executioner’s hood over Ned, just in case people got suspicious. And even though Ned’s head hung down almost to his chest no one questioned it. The charade seemed to be complete. There was only one thing that remained. How was it that Ned was going to talk?

Just after 10:00 a.m. on November the 11th, Ned was strung to the gallows. The hangman adjusted his hood. It was then that I noticed Frank discretely pull from his pocket the iPod with the speakers that I had got him for Christmas last year. My god, he had recorded the line Ned was going to speak. He was actually going to play a pre-recorded voice, and right before all these people, too. What a beautiful, fantastic, brilliant idea. I smiled. Frank had kept his promise.

At four minutes past ten the executioner pulled the lever, Ned had said his piece, and — well, the rest is history as they say. Hopefully the time-line was all right. I had a sneaking suspicion that it was; besides, Frank’s ideas always worked out.

Frank led me away from the Old Melbourne Goal, we had been given the rest of the day off by our commanding officer. Something about witnessing such an event. He was right: it was ghastly.

“Say, how do we get back?”

“Simple,” Frank smiled, “we push the green button again.” From his pocket he produced a small black box. On it there was a green button marked “return”, below that was a red button.

“Keeping it simple I see.”

“Of course, human friendly technology is the way to go. Besides, what did you expect, a Star Trek-like tricorder?” Frank smiled with a cheeky grin. “I’ll give you the honours, just hold onto me.”

I pressed the green button. Once more the holo-screen appeared before my eyes. The dates on the screen, fortunately, moved in the right direction: towards the future.

When March 15th 2005 came up the screen blinked orange. Frank pressed the red button. Instantly we were back in his house. I had never been so happy to see it.

“Ah, there we are, just in time for breakfast, too.”

I glanced at the clock on his study wall. It was seven in the morning, and I had to admit, I was rather hungry.

“So, where to next?” I said. I think I surprised him with that remark.

“I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me... remember. I’m a know-it-all smarty pants, or some such thing.”

I looked at him. Directly into this deep blue eyes. “I changed my mind... I think, I think — damn, you think this would be easy —”

“You don’t have to say it, Michael,” Frank said with a wave of his hand.

“No. No, I have to. I want to be with you... You’re my brother... and — well, I’ve learned a hell of a lot about us lately... I am proud of you, Frank.”

Frank just smiled. “It was rather cool, travelling in time, wasn’t it?”

“Besides, if I don’t come with you, who’s going to save your hide?”

“Very funny.”

“I suppose the present I got you for your birthday will be rather useless now,” I said.

“Oh, what was it?”

“A Dr. Who DVD —”

“Old or new series?”

“Old, of course,” I added. “But seeing as you are a time traveller I thought it would be rather... useless.”

“Which Doctor?” Frank smiled. Obviously pleased.

“Tom Baker. Naturally,” I smiled. “Who else is there?”

“Cool... We’ll watch it right now. Then, dear, Michael I fancy a trip to ancient Egypt.”

“I’m so there... But this time, I think you can be the stand-in if anything goes wrong,” I laughed.

“Deal.”

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