Everyone's Pal Joey

I was in charge of the demolition team that tore down the old city library on Fourth Street. Our contract stipulated that we had to complete the work and “leave the site free and unencumbered” by the end of April, so on Friday the 29^th of April the foreman asked me to do a walk around and make sure everything had been removed. All that remained standing was a small building used for storage purposes. So the last thing I did as I walked back to my truck was to open the door and look inside to make sure it was empty.

I saw three beer bottles in a corner of the room where some of my men had ‘boosted their energy’. I picked them up and a roll of paper moved out. I picked it up, looked around for the last time and continued on my way to my car. I tossed the roll of paper onto the seat and started up.  

I didn’t use my car for the weekend, Eddie picked me up for golf on Saturday and Molly and I spent a quiet Sunday with the kids in the garden. On Monday morning I was surprised to see the roll of paper lying on the seat of the car and I unrolled it to have a look. Plans. There were four sheets of fashioned blueprints. Mechanical drawings. I tossed them over my shoulder and drove off. That evening I took them inside and spread them out on the dining room table. After studying them I decided they were for some sort of rocket or rocket-ship. “I’m going to try and build this thing, whatever it is,” I decided.

Over the next few weeks I made a list of parts and began searching for them, mostly in the metal scrap-yard on the other side of town. “I dunno what you’re building,” he said. “Never seen anything like this. It looks like a rocket with lots of space for dynamite. What’s your target?”

I worked at it in the evenings. The smaller bits and pieces were easy: joining wires, soldering, drilling holes for screws, stuff like that which all went quickly. The larger metal parts were not so easy. I had to clear a workbench and make space in the garage. When Joey, the neighbor’s sixteen-year-old wandered in one evening, I roped him into helping me. The outer shell was ½ thick steel. That’s pretty heavy stuff and awkward to handle. Finally, it was done. I bought white paint at the hardware store and on a whim some purple to make racing stripes down the sides.  

“What’s next?” asked Joey.

“We have to hook up the control panel.”

“You’ve got one?”

“Yeah. An old laptop that I never threw out.”

Of course the battery was flat. We plugged it in, made coffee and relaxed while we discussed the next steps.

“Once the battery is connected all we have to do is…, are you thinking of coming with me?” I asked Joey.

“I wouldn’t miss it!” he replied enthusiastically.

“Then we need to find 2 cushions and sit on them instead of on that steel seat,” I suggested.

He dashed out and came back 2 minutes later swinging a cushion in each hand.

“What kind of rocket do you think this is?” he asked, voicing the question I had been worrying about since the day we started on this ‘project’.

“I’m not sure,” I replied. “It may just be a model of a rocket and will never lift off, or it is a real rocket that is not carrying anything except us. I guess it could even be a time machine.”

“What does a time machine do?”

“It takes you to whatever date you enter in the program.”

“Really? Wow! Then we could go to next week and see today’s Lotto numbers!”

“Must say I never thought about that.”

“How long does it take the battery to charge? I suppose we need the battery to go and then again to return, right?” Joey asked impatiently. “What about our phones? Our mobile phones, I mean. Do you think they’ll work where we are? Think it’ll be cold or hot out there? Should I bring a sweater? Are you taking one?”

“Joey, Joey, take it easy! Remember I haven’t been anywhere we’re going. All your questions will be answered in due course. What you need now is a bit of patience.”

But Joe was excited to the point he couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down the garage, stroking the rocket each time he passed it.

“Joe, nothing’s going to happen now. Come in here tomorrow after school and we’ll continue. Maybe we’ll make a test flight…”

The night passed slowly for me too.

I had a short nap after lunch and then wandered out to the garage. I checked the ‘percentage battery time remaining’: 100 percent. I unplugged it and fitted it into its place in the rocket. We were ready.

Joey arrived breathless with anticipation.

“Are we ready for lift-off?” Joey squeaked with excitement.

“In a few minutes, Joe. I still have a few things to do. How was school?”

“I had to give a speech about my hobby, so I spoke about the Time Machine. I said that if I suddenly disappeared I would be out there someplace in time. Probably the future. The whole class shouted, ‘Great, bring back Lotto numbers!’”

Ten minutes passed and I said, “Okay Joey! Ready to roll!”

We climbed into the rocket, Joey sitting behind me in the narrow cabin. I reached up to close the canopy which was a flimsy piece of plastic sheeting I had liberated from a rubbish dump.

“Okay Joey, I’m going to hit the enter key!”

“Okay! Do it!”

I pressed the key and felt a slight sensation, but it was probably nerves. Nothing happened.

Then Joey shouted, “Hey, look outside!”

We were no longer in my garage. We were surrounded by trees, leaves, ferns and all sorts of green growth.

“We’re in a forest!” I shouted.

“Can we get out?”

“I don’t know! See any animals, snakes, and things?”

“Nothing!”

“Okay, jump out! See if your phone works!” 

I felt hysterical. Where were we? How could I find out? What if we couldn’t go back? I heard a telephone ring.

“That yours, Joe?”

Long pause.

“Just a sec. Yes! It’s mine. Some kid in my class. Guess what he wants?”

“Don’t tell me – Lotto numbers!”

“Right!”

“I’m coming down, Joe. Let’s see if we can find out where we are and when we are too!”

We made our way slowly through the thick undergrowth and eventually found a small cabin. It was full of equipment. Probably belonged to a forest worker.

Joey’s phone rang at the same second as someone shouted, “Hey you! What do you want?”

“Hello!” I called. “Boy, am I pleased to see you!”

“What do you want?”

Great! At least he speaks English! “We’re lost,” I said, looking at Joey busy with his phone.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Um, it’s complicated. Where are we? Are we near a town or a village?”

“He pointed over Joey’s head. That way. There’s a small town there.”

Joey’s phone rang. He swung around. “Is there a Lotto machine there?”

“Joey! Leave it alone!”

“My phone doesn’t stop ringing! I have to!”

“You don’t have to and you aren’t going to. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

We set off through the thick forest growth. Joey’s phone never stopped ringing. At some point I couldn’t stand it and I turned around to yell at him. He wasn’t there. I could still hear the phone ringing.

By the time I staggered out of the trees and saw buildings ahead of me there was no sign of Joey. The phone had either stopped ringing or was out of earshot. Joey arrived an hour later, looking hot and bothered.

“I’m not going back!” he announced.

“What do you mean? You have to. I can’t leave you here! I can’t even tell your parents what country you’re in!”

“I’m not going back! How can I face all the people who called me for numbers? They’re gonna remember me as a traitor! I’m not going back!”

In the very small village I found out where we were. I had a short rest, downed 2 cups of coffee, and made my way back along a path to the rocket. Settled inside, I hit the Enter key, blinked my eyes and found myself looking at the tool rack in my garage.

“Joey? He’s still there.

We have a few ‘newly rich’ residents in our neighborhood…”