Mr. Chickee's Messy Mission (10 page)

Ms. Tiptip said, “Actually, my dear, it's quite a bit more complicated than mere holography, and what you're seeing is much more than a hologram.”

Russell said, “A holo-what?”

Richelle said, “Isn't a holograph or hologram where a negative is produced by exposing a high-resolution photographic plate, without camera or lens, near a subject illuminated by monochromatic, coherent radiation, such as from a laser, and when it is placed in a beam of coherent light, a true three-dimensional image of the subject is formed?”

Mr. Chickee smiled.

Russell looked at Steven.

Steven looked at Russell and whispered, “Lucky guess.”

Ms. Tiptip put her fist out and said, “Put it here, sister girl!”

Richelle gave Ms. Tiptip some dap.

Great-great-grampa Carter's cranky dictionary said, “Oh, boy, I have a strong feeling that that definition sailed positively miles over the heads of two of the people who heard it.”

Steven said, “Ha! I get it! They explained about this on PBS. It only looks like that little guy is standing there on the table, but he really isn't. He's just a kind of moving picture, like a 3-D movie. He looks real, but he's nothing but light, you can even wave your hand right through him.”

Steven reached over to do just that. Big mistake.

Ms. Tiptip said, “No! Don't tou—”

Too late.

The little man tried to duck but Steven was too quick. His hand smacked the man and sent him sailing off the table. He landed in a heap on the floor.

Mr. Chickee gently scooped him up, set him on the table and said, “Please forgive him, Horton, he's new here, they're from—”

The diminutive man said, “They're from Yourside! Who else would be so rude as to touch someone like that?”

Steven said, “Huh? I don't get it. I didn't know … I'm sorry.”

Horton said, “Oh, you just think you're sorry. You wait. We have a saying here, ‘Payback is a sandwich best served on stale bread.’ And believe me, Mr. I-Can-Touch-
Anything-I-Want, either I or one of my Holo-Vision partners is going to pay you back
big
for this insult!”

He pointed at his wrist, where a tiny Oops-a-Daisy was strapped, and said, “And don't think just because time is getting short that you'll get away. We'll get you before this thing zeroes out, and that's a promise!”

Ms. Tiptip said, “Horton! Such hostility! I'm surprised! I know everyone here is under a lot of pressure from the prophecies of the Chronicles of Zornea-Hu, but that's no way to talk to guests. I think you know what you must do now.”

The little man said, “Yes, Ms. Tiptip.”

He looked at Steven and said, “I'm sorry.”

You've heard of apologies that are said to be “dripping with insincerity”? Well, this one was so phony it had insincerity sloshing off of it like water barreling over the Kearsley Dam!

Ms. Tiptip continued, “And Steven, I know what you did was unintentional, but it's not enough to
try
to be considerate when you're in a new place or a new situation. You must be careful not to
unintentionally
hurt the feelings of others or be inconsiderate in any way. You must constantly be sensitive. Now, I think you know what you have to do.”

Steven said, “Yes, Ms. Tiptip. I'm really sorry I slapped you off the table, sir.”

The man said nothing, but his beady little holographic eyes burned into Steven.

Mr. Chickee said, “Fine. Now please continue, Horton. No one has to remind you that time is critical.”

Horton once again bowed and repeated, “Welcome, one and all.”

But guess who he didn't look at.

“I am Horton Flum-Flub, Holo-Explainer, the one whose responsibility it is to remove any questions you may have about Ourside and the current predicament in which we find ourselves.

“With your permission I will, by chronological age, flum-flub each of you, then set about removing your knowledge deficits.

“Ms. Cyrus-Herndon, I believe you are the oldest of our guests.”

Richelle said, “Wait a minute, I'm not so sure about this. What in the world is flum-flubbing?”

Ms. Tiptip said, “I understand your reluctance, Richelle, but to flum-flub is to merely take a picture of certain bioelectrical energy patterns made by your brain. The patterns tell what it is you do or don't know about a particular subject, after which Horton puts together a program to bring you up to speed. Flum-flubbing simply identifies then erases your ignorance. It's designed to save time, it's the way all of our people in Ourside are educated. It's quite safe and painless and has no side effects other than enlightenment.”

Richelle said, “What do I have to do?”

Ms. Tiptip said, “Simply give your permission.”

Richelle said, “Okay, why not? Go ahead.”

Horton hummed for exactly 2.8 seconds, then blew a puff of holographic air at Richelle. He said, “Finished. Steven, old chum, I believe you're next oldest.”

Steven put his hand over his eyes so as not to look at Richelle and asked, “Can flum-flubbing get rid of this point zero one percent change that happened to me? And it's not going to hurt, is it?”

Richelle said, “Would you hurry up and give your permission, please! Look at me, does it seem like I was hurt? Flum-flubbing just feels like hummingbird wings brushing over your cheeks.”

Steven said, “There's no way I'm looking at you again. All right, Mr. Holo-Explainer, you can do it.”

Horton once again hummed for 2.8 seconds, shot another puff of holographic air in Steven's direction and said, “Finished. Russell?”

“This sounds fun! Fire away!”

“No. You must actually give your permission. ‘Fire away’ will not do.”

Russell said, “Oops! Okay, you can flum-flub me.”

Horton whooshed air at Russell.

“Finished.”

Russell said, “Hey! How come you didn't hum before you finished me?”

Horton rolled his eyes and said, “The humming is done for nothing but show; we know how mysterious you Your-siders like to make everything. But if you insist, hmmmmm. Now one moment, please.”

Horton closed his eyes, then said, “Finished. Please enjoy the presentation.”

He seemed to fade until the tabletop was empty.

then his voice could be heard, “Many uncounted years ago, not long after Ourside and Yourside were torn apart, the first porch, or doorway between the two worlds, was discovered.”

From the table a bright flash exploded, then disappeared.

After blinking many times, the friends from Flint saw the image of a small porch standing on the table. Above the porch's doorway was printed ZORNEA
-
HU.

Russell pointed at the table and said, “That's so cool! How did they—”

Richelle and Steven each went, “Russell, shhh!”

Ms. Tiptip said, “No, no, children, it's all right. The Holo-Vision is designed to be interactive. Through many years of flum-flubbing we've recognized that one of the more beautiful things about having ignorance erased is that it leads to many more questions being asked. You discover that knowledge, instead of causing you to be satisfied with what you've learned, causes you to hunger for more and more knowledge.”

Russell said, “Hey! That sounds like how I feel if I eat just one Triple Chocolate Double Butter Extra Sugared Candy Delight—I want more and more. Mmm! Like the commercial says, ‘Obesity isn't such a bad price to pay after all.’ ”

Mr. Chickee said, “Well … it's
sort
of like that, Russell.”

He blinked rapidly again, then said, “You know what? It's
nothing
at all like that. The more you know, the more
you understand how little you actually know and the more you
want
to know. So the Holo-Vision takes this into consideration and allows any questions that may pop up in your mind to be asked and then answered. So it's fine to interrupt and ask anything. Go ahead, Russell.”

Russell said, “Uh, I forgot what I was saying.”

Horton said, “As I was saying, the porch to Zornea-Hu remained open only briefly, during which time the people from Ourside learned much about life from the woman who lived there. It was through her teachings and writings and guidance that we advanced so much more rapidly than the people of Yourside, who, some feel, unfortunately chose to follow other leaders.”

Richelle said, “Excuse me, was this a real woman or was she a myth?”

Horton said, “She was real. We never knew her actual name, so we've always called her Zornea-Hu, which was, as you've seen, what's written above her door.”

Richelle said, “Do you know anything more about her?”

“We only know she was born on Yourside in one of your states, called Florida.”

A 3-D map of the United States appeared on the table and a small star glinted from northeast Florida.

“She's also recognized as being the first Old Soul.”

The table was suddenly filled with twenty-seven soup-can-height people.

Russell said, “Hey! That's you and Ms. Tiptip, Mr. Chickee!”

“Yes, it is a representation of us.”

The people waved and smiled at the Flint Future Detectives.

“Wow!” Russell said. “Can they see us?”

“Yes, the actual Old Souls are getting something very similar to what you call a voice mail and are responding.”

Steven said, “If these are the
Old
Souls, how come some of them look so young? That one is a baby!”

Horton Flum-Flub Holo-Explainer said, “The name Old Soul refers not to their chronological age but to their spiritual age. The Old Souls are a group of people who have unusually high amounts of certain personality traits, things such as tolerance, open-mindedness, patience, acceptance and humility.”

Russell whispered to Steven, “Sounds like the kind of people who never get invited to go anywhere.”

Ms. Tiptip said, “We have those traits and are never satisfied with what we've learned, we always want to know more.”

Russell whispered, “See, I told you, they're all party poopers.”

Mr. Chickee said, “We also can feel the pain or joy that others feel.”

Horton said, “As I said, Zornea-Hu was officially the first person we recognized with these traits. Sadly, she was never aware of her uniqueness. She was told so many times that she was ‘peculiar’ and ‘difficult’ and ‘weird’ and ‘out of place,’ that unfortunately toward the end she believed these things. We've since learned she was actually nothing more than an Old Soul.”

On the table a woman dressed in old-fashioned clothes
could be seen sitting at a desk writing with one of those old typewriter thingies. She pulled the piece of paper that she'd been working on out of the typewriter, read it over, then, as her shoulders slumped, shook her head and wadded the paper into a ball.

Horton said, “She thought of her writings as whimsical little ditties done to relieve boredom and sorrow. She actually spent most of her adult life doing what she called ‘scribbling tiny stories and tinier poems,’ but we on Ourside have discovered that she was actually a channel of wisdom from beyond. That paper she just tossed out was what has come to be known as the first prophecy from the Chronicles of Zornea-Hu.”

Richelle said, “But she balled it up and threw it away. How do you know what it said?”

Horton said, “Observe.”

Everything on the table froze except the wadded-up piece of paper. It floated out of the wastebasket and became larger and larger until it was the size of an actual sheet of printer paper. Then it unwadded itself. Written very clearly on the paper was

Before Steven had a chance to say, “Huh? I don't get it,” Horton said, “We believe this is the first of the prophecies that Zornea-Hu made. We think it is the second most important one. It foretells the upcoming destruction, or the End, of Ourside. Our best minds also feel that it tells about the arrival here of you three and how our only hope of finding the Answer to our survival rests with you.”

Russell said, “She'da got booed off the
Def Poetry
show. Are all her poems as weird as that one?”

Horton said, “Weird? That's one of the easiest to understand. Check this one out.”

A second piece of paper floated out of Zornea-Hu's wastebasket and unwadded itself. It read:

Horton said, “We were hoping that one of you would be able to translate this one. Is it ringing any bells?”

Richelle looked from Steven to Russell and back.

Russell looked from Richelle to Steven and back.

Steven wisely looked from Russell to the floor in front of Richelle and back.

The Flint Future Detectives were a very confused-looking group.

Ms. Tiptip put her hand on Richelle's shoulder and said, “Don't worry. It may come to you later. You children are our only hope. Actually one of you is. Some of the other prophecies tell us that the only way for the End not to come is if a child from Yourside can translate the final unrevealed prophecy before”—she checked her own Oops-a-Daisy— “before this counts all the way down. We're fervently hoping one of you is the Yoursider who can translate the last prophecy and let us know what we have to do to save ourselves.”

Russell said to Richelle and Steven, “I hope it's one of you guys. Saving a whole world sounds like a good way to get a bad bellyache.”

Ms. Tiptip said, “You're right, Russell, it is a terrible burden to have placed on the shoulders of someone so young. However, that is what has happened and we can't change that.”

Richelle said, “Well, give us this last prophecy and we'll see if one of us can read it. Then we can go find Rodney Rodent.”