The Faucet of Time
"Alright, sit down everybody. Calm down and sit at your desks. Teresa, could you please put your phone away? Thank you. Paul! Your bag; take it off; we are not going on a field trip. Thank you. And close the door. Please?! Jason?! Jason! Just...could you just...Sit down?"
Miss le Roux hated Thursdays; she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, re-adjusting her thick rimmed-glasses. She looked down at the schedule that was barely held together by yellowing sticky tape on her desk and tapped on the block that read Physics: 15:30 - 16:45.
The air conditioner was humming a boring tune and the sun found its way through the blinds, lighting up the desk in white and orange blotches.
"OK," She dragged out the O and the K, "Well...today is SSPD, Self Study Presentation Day, as you know. Riiiiiiiight? Good. Whose bir--?"
"Me!" Steven Berkley was out of his seat, and by the way he was swinging his briefcase, Miss le Roux knew that it was going to be a long one. They would probably only get out of the room at 17:00 - if they were lucky; Steven Berkley always meant business when it came to presentation day.
"Hold it right there, Steven. I appreciate your enthusiasm for the subject, but, do you mind? I was NOT going to ask Who's first?; if I remember correctly, it's someone's birthday today. Whose birthday is it today?"
"It's Barbara Downing's birthday, Miss," confirmed Paul, chewing on a piece of candy. Then, as if in union, everybody looked at Steven. His face was as red as his tie.
Miss le Roux, a teacher with ten years' experience, realized the boy's predicament and held her hand up. The droning of voices in the back was also telling her that they were now poking fun at his clothes - she didn't blame them; she had told her fiancé about Berkley's strange dress code:
'Always the same pair of brown trousers,' she had mentioned to Clarke a few weeks ago, almost choking on a fish bone. She held her hand up and took a swig of her Chardonnay. "There's a rumor at school that he has seven pairs, one for each day. I shit you not!' She coughed. 'Pardon? Only orange, red or yellow shirts. Usually oversized with a floppy-looking red necktie. Yes, the same one everyday. Strange boy. Smart, though. Very, very bright.'
"That's enough, then! In the back there...Who is that? Teresa, why are you taking pictures of Steven with your phone? If you like him so much, why don't you ask him to sit next to you in the bus on the way to the ScienceMuseum next Friday?" Very quickly all attention switched to Teresa who seemed to evaporate in a cloud of embarrassment.
Miss le Roux winked at Steven (who looked thankful) and, with an open palm, gestured for him to 'Please take the stage.'
"Well," she continued, "Happy birthday to you, Barbara, on your fifteenth birthday!" She stared at the empty desk on the far right in the front row, and then scanned the room for Barbara's freckled face, guessing that she had probably moved nearer to Steven - it was her birthday, after all.
"Ahem. Miss le Roux, Barbara's absent," Steven said in his croaky voice. He was seated at her desk, removing a rather old-fashioned tape recorder from the black briefcase. He looked at her for a second, and then turned around to plug it in.
"Oh, well, in that case...I suppose it's the thought that counts." She knew the back row was now sniggering at her failure to realize that her 'star student', Barbara Downing was not even in the room. "Well, does anyone know where she is? She never misses SSPD," she asked nobody in particular.
No one in particular answered.
Steven wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat as all eyes were upon him; something he found strange, as he never had had any problems speaking in public.
"Well, OK. First up today, then, is Steven Berkley!" she announced.
There were moans and groans all 'round. "Now, now, I know Steven can speak for a long time, but let's give him a chance. And if you stop whispering...there! In the back! Teresa! I swear, one of these days your ear is going to shrivel up and fall off...maybe we can finish early and go home. Steven has promised to keep it in the time limit, haven't you Steven?" She turned her back on the rest of the class and winked at him again.
Even though it sounded a little like a threat, Steven nodded and cleared his throat. "Thank you teacher for this great opportunity to--"
"Oh, get on with it!" shouted Paul in the back, pretending to fall asleep. The stifled giggles faded quickly as Miss le Roux reached for the whiteboard eraser, and stopped at once when Steven took out a tap from his briefcase. He held it above his head, looking up and then lowered his head as if in deep prayer.
"I give you--" he paused dramatically, "The Faucet of Time!"
Nervous laughter spread like an infectious disease. The mocking giggles, Miss le Roux's patience level, the shuffling of chairs and scuffling of feet all contributed to a perfectly blue whiteboard eraser smashing to pieces against the back wall.
"ENOUGH! God! Steven. Please. Everybody. Please." She was close to tears, pleading now with the sun in her eyes. "Please. Thank you. Steven. If this is your idea of a joke--"
"This is not a movie, Miss le Roux," he replied sharply.
Miss le Roux looked confused, but in no way amused.
"If this is your idea of a joke is what they say in the movies, Miss; and I don't know what you're talking about, is another line that merely indicates that the person using those words is lying."
It was like she wasn't even in the room anymore; from his trouser pocket he took out a piece of maroon felt and gently laid the tap onto it.
He cracked his knuckles.
Miss le Roux got goose bumps. "This is not English class, Steven. Just...get on with it." She could feel her pulse in her temples.
"Certainly, Miss." He straightened his tie and slowly scanned the class with a smile. "Teresa? Yes, you with the telephone, can you tell us, what do you make of time? What does it mean to you?" To everyone's surprise, he sprinted to the back of the room (Steven never ran anywhere), and shoved a chewed-off pencil in her face. "Could you speak up, please? We can't hear you?" he demanded politely.
This random action breathed new life into the rest of the class; Paul wasn't slouching anymore, and Jason had stopped flicking bogeys, trying to get them stuck to the ceiling.
Teresa had a look of utter disgust on her face as Berkley spoke with a cheese-and-onion-hotdog-breath in her face. "I...uh...time? Time. It's time to go home!" Teresa laughed, waiting for the rest to join in.
The laughter never came; instead, an atmosphere of bewilderment had crept into the room. All eyes were transfixed on Miss le Roux's desk; the silver spout of the faucet was moving like rubber - eerily, as if looking each of the students in the eye. Miss le Roux stumbled backwards and found herself seated on Barbara Downing's empty desk.
"Obviously, Teresa, you have not been paying attention in class." Berkley wagged an accusing finger in front of her eyes. He grabbed the back of her comic-book-blue-black hair and whispered in her ear, "I don't think I am going to the ScienceMuseum next week, sweetheart."
Steven was back at the front again, flicking a greasy fringe out of his eyes.
"St-St-steven?"
"Quiet. This is my presentation. I have discovered something important, Miss le Roux. Please, let me continue," he begged.
"I think we've seen enough. This is not a place for tricks, Steven Berkley." For the first time Miss le Roux realized that she had lost her shoe after the initial shock of the moving faucet.
Steven looked at his watch. “Give me five," he insisted.
He ignored her pleas to continue 'at a later stage' and pressed PLAY on the recorder. From her desk he removed a roll of old sticky tape, ripped off a piece and put it over his mouth. His eyes widened with excitement as his own voice echoed from the only speaker on the recorder:
"Today Barbara Downing and I went to the river. We swam naked. I dived down and something on the bottom caught my eye. This. Old. Tap." Though shocked at the initial choppiness of his own speech, Steven pointed at the faucet with a smile clearly visible under the mouth covering. "Not only did we find the tap. We also discovered an instruction manual. No, manual is the wrong word, an instruction leaflet, rather; only one sheet, encased in a thick silicone substance. It informed me of what I had always expected - And if this is not Physics, I apologize, Miss le Roux."
(Steven bowed as if in prayer again; Miss le Roux didn't move - Miss le Roux couldn't move)
"Well, let me get to the point, you all have things to do - time to spend, so to speak! Hahahaha!"
(Steven held his hand over his mouth, shaking with laughter in rhythm with the recording).
"Over to my beautiful assistant, Barbara Downing!"
(Steven pressed the PAUSE button, and then - facing Miss le Roux - held his arms out; a very welcoming gesture. He clapped profusely as his eyes followed [as did the eyes of all those present] the invisible {yet, lovely} Barbara Downing who joined him 'on stage'. He pressed PAUSE again)
"Thank you, Steven. Thank you! You are too kind! Thank you everybody!"
(Steven showed his palms to the rest of the class, moving his hands up and down as one would do in order encourage applause and/or support. Nobody clapped)
"Well, after studying the leaflet, we came to the conclusion that Steven was right after all; his theory that time is viewed differently by different species. What was it Steven, what did Miss le Roux give you for that paper?"
(Steven formed a "D" with his fingers, shaking his head at Miss le Roux)
"A D? Were you disappointed, Steven?
(Steven rubbed his one eye much like a crying baby would)
"Well, let me get to the point. I won't bore you with the intricate details; Miss le Roux probably can't wait to get out of here."
(Steven pulled down his zip, placed his hand down the front of his trousers and stuck out his thumb, wiggling it. Teresa dropped her phone.)
"So, time. Each life form is allowed to view the world in a certain time frame. Ants, butterflies, elephants, goldfish, and humans all view the world in different time frames. Now, because our minds have (genetically) been programmed to view the world in our own unique ways - and I don't want to sound negative about it; it is a wonderful experience - we can't perceive other 'clocks'. Thus, we have the disadvantage of not seeing other dimensions either. What we are trying to say is that there are other worlds to explore on this planet. All this searching for life on other planets is a total waste of...time. It's all here. And it's all possible with The Faucet of Time!"
(Steven raised his arms to the ceiling)
"Here's how it works: Steven, would you please demonstrate?"
(Steven looked surprised, pointing at himself as if to say 'Me?!')
"Aw, come on, Berkley! Show our friends!"
(Steven nodded and hesitantly walked over to the desk again. The faucet was held at eye level for everybody to see. There was not a sound in the room. He raised the index finger of his right hand slowly towards the spout that enveloped it in chrome-like liquid.)
"Can everybody see, Steven?"
(Steven moved his arm slowly from side to side. Only Miss le Roux's eyes were moving)
"Now, Berkley is going to turn the tap head slowly. Ready, Steven?"
(Steven nodded and slowly did as he had been instructed)
"The faster one turns the handle, the faster one perceives time, and visa versa; each twist opening up doors to other dimensions. All he has to do now is step through the door. Unfortunately, the entrance to this alternative world is not visible to you, of course.
You will have to find your own Faucet of Time. Thank you very much for your attention, Miss le Roux - and your precious time. Classmates, I hope you have learned something today, and enjoy your science trip on Friday. Steven? Would you care to join me?"
(With the tap on his finger, Steven unplugged the recorder and placed it back in the briefcase. He tucked it under his arm, waved at everybody in the room and stepped through the door)
The End.
