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Ted’s quest for geniuses on campus had also led him to a bully called Julius. Ted had misconstrued the macho man for a genius, having heard friends and foes call him ‘Genius’. He never knew that the senior student had only acquired such name by bullying on some weaker ones. Julius had asked to be called by such name and they had to give it to him to avoid his avoidable troubles.
Ted, being a first-year student then, had approached Julius to ask for his hands in friendship, but the guy had treated him badly.
“What level are you?” asked Julius cruelly as he grabbed Ted’s scruff forcibly.
“A first year student,” Ted spoke in a shaky tone.
“First year!” exclaimed Julius, expressing shock. He had counted it a discourteous attitude for a first year student to walk up to someone like him, a final-year student. He would have him disgraced.
“I’ll teach you how to respect your seniors,” Julius had said, shoving him away and winking concurrently to his followers. As if under the influence of a remote control, they descended on Ted, beating him blue-black and getting rid of his trousers, but leaving him with his underwear, at least to let him have something to still make do with. However, they went away with his pocket money, pulling out the inner part of his pocket.
Ted since then had kept an eye on the rogue, Julius, waiting eagerly for an opportunity to revenge. Going by the look of things then such opportunity might not come and therefore Ted might need to wait for long in vain. But Ted’s hope came alive suddenly when the dean, Professor Wilson, had him initiated into magic, having made the man his friend when he got to know that he was a genius.
When Julius was graduating, he was preparing to receive an award for the hip-hop music he’d entertained the audience with (having sang in the graduation ceremony). He mounted the podium to receive his award from Professor Wilson’s hands, but something unbelievable happened. As he opened his mouth for a smile, his teeth, all of them, were discovered missing. Despite the disgusting sight, many still held up their cameras to take a view of the toothless bully. Ted’s doing!

Henry was engrossed in the taxing work that he had just been endowed with by the Professor. Fear mingled with horror at a gargantuan extent, had possibly thrust him into some ineffable actions for seven days. Having set everything apart, he had focused on the dean’s arduous task assiduously, though not trusting in his ability to write an award-winning synopsis for the dean. While at work only one thought sometimes crossed his mind—Susie, not Cynthia this time. Since having a clinch with Susie in the rain, Henry had developed a secret affection for her, though not yet made known to her.
Henry had considered perusing the whole textbook a suicidal manifestation. He made up his mind not to open them at all. From the knowledge he had already acquired in the past on Nuclear Physics, Henry wrote the synopsis. He had had much cognition of the subject, Nuclear Physics, earlier in life. Thanks to the library he had made his ‘next of kin’ those times.
Henry was through with it after seven days, but he waited till the eighth day to get it across to the dean, for fear of being snubbed by him, believing that a nineteen-year old boy of his kind cannot write out what was going to be award-winning amidst the intelligentsias across the globe.
On getting to the lecture room, he saw his photographs with mates, made a cynosure. In them he was carrying twelve huge textbooks, the Professor’s own.
“Hi Henry, bookworm,” he was taunted by a girl, who had burst into laughter. Another said, “I’m pretty sure you’ve got the content of these books inside your puny brain,” pushing Henry’s forehead roughly with a finger. Henry was abashed. He had felt like applying his yet unproved magical power on them immediately, but he declined.
Susie came closer, still conceiving a guilty conscience.
“I got you into these. I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Never mind Susie,’ replied Henry in a very polite manner, which had sent her smiling secretly, believing that she’d got him at last after about two years and a month of trials and errors to get his attention.
On the marker board was written an implicating statement about Henry. He read it silently and the look on his face was that of dejection:

Henry needs Cynthia badly. He will do anything to get her. Yes, things like carrying myriads of books in his hands—just to impress her that he’s such a genius.

Still looking at the board in anger, Henry felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking back, he discovered it was Pete, Cynthia’s boyfriend. The boy smirked and said, “Young chap, you think you can have her love by this—impossible? She’s no braniac-freak.”
Pete was loud-mouthed, but seeming to be the most easily cowed. He was a timid type who could even be intimidated by a tomboy, or any lady who wished to scare him. All such one would need do was to pose a threat at him. Pete had joined the school basketball team so that he could receive a level of protection from his teammates, who had helped him out of troubles at one time or the other.
Henry said in annoyance, “Who’re you talking about?” as if he didn’t know. The boy replied, “Cynthia. She’s going to stick with sportsman—like me. She’ll kick your ar*se.”
Though Henry’s care for Cynthia was no more wholesome, the urge to have her by all means so as to silence Pete who had been bragging all the while came upon Henry immediately in a gush.
“I’ll sure get her one day,” Henry had thought, “but not with magic,” he had added.

Happy Sunday everyone.
Please don't miss church service today.
Let's go and hear the word of God.
Don't forget to pray for your nation.

CHAPTER SEVEN
THE PROFESSOR'S AWARD
“Henry!” the man shouted. Henry’s buttocks were glued to his seat. “Are you saying that this can earn me the award?” The Professor waved the write up before his face.
“I don’t know,” responded Henry, anticipating something worse.
“Well, I shall go through it today. I’ll get across to you—at night.”
“At night?” Henry yelled, “Hope not through the mirror.” Henry’s reaction depicted that he was possibly eisoptrophobic, but in the actual sense he wasn’t. Perhaps, he was just scared of the magical mirror in particular, which could even be illuminating at night when put to use.
“Where else?” said the dean, not intending to ask a question, but was letting him know that he was bent on using the mirror. “You think I’m going to want to burn my credit unnecessarily on telephone calls when I’ve got my mirror—charge free—and every other benefit attached to it. Listen, if you don’t use it you don’t get wiser. Have you ever proved your magic at all?” the man asked inquisitively.
“No sir.” Henry’s face glowered. “… and I don’t think I’ll use it at all.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I don’t see the need.”
The Professor smirked and said, “You’ll sure use it…someday.”
“Why d’you think so?”
“Because Professor Wilson Gee say so,” said the dean, beating his chest in an egoistic manner.
“I won’t—” replied Henry, “because I said I won’t,” he added in a mimetic style.
“You’ve got goat-like characters indeed—stubborn.”
“Can I take my leave,” Henry had said rudely.
“Sure, if you want to,” the dean had replied, “Got no business with you till after the presentation of the seminar.”
Few days later, early in the morning, the indispensable urge to look at the mirror came upon Henry again. Henry picked up an ordinary mirror at first.
“Not this,” said Henry, quickly dropping it carefully to go for the magical one. His heart missed a beat on seeing the dean’s image in it.
“What’s he up to again?” Henry had thought.
“Shocked!” the laterally inverted image of the dean had said. “You’re thinking of what I’m up to again.”
“What!” Henry exclaimed. “How d’you know that’s what’s on my mind? Does the magic include mind-synching?”
“Sure. While looking into the mirror you’ve got the benefit of reading the mind of the other fellow in an unmistakable and precise manner—something that the psychologist cannot do.”
“Really!”
“Henry,” said the man going straight to the point, “I’ve obtained a flight ticket for you. We’re flying together to Washington today. Guess what, we’re going to the venue of the Seminar Presentation together, this morning. Meet me at the Port of Los Angeles presently.”
“Must I come with you?” said Henry out of panic. “I don’t deem it necessary.”

Henry was afraid that the man would vent his anger on him if he eventually did not come out the winner of the presentation, so he had felt that avoiding him would be the solution. The return flight would be full of reprimands, if the dean lost the award.
“I’ve bought the flight ticket already—you have my word,” the dean said, and in a moment, he was off.
Henry, being left alone still staring at his mirror in awe, was able to view the reflection his face. It was glum. Having no choice, Henry had to prepare to meet the dean. But he was going to visit the school library first, to return some of the borrowed books he had got with him. After taking a cup of coffee Henry left the apartment to get a cab that would transport him to the library. Henry saw the poster of the dean, placed side by side with that of Einstein, pasted on many suitable places around the school. It seemed both geniuses (Albert Einstein and Professor Wilson) were performing the same action in them—clicking their skulls. Henry moved very close to one of those amazing pictures with great interest. He read the statement on the poster:
THE DEAN OF THE PRESTIGIOUS CALIFORNIA CITY UNIVERSITY IS PRESENTING A SEMINAR TODAY, ON NUCLEAR PHYSICS. IS HE A MATCH FOR ALBERT EINSTEIN THE GENIUS? LET’S WATCH IF HE’S GOING TO EMERGE THE WINNER OF THE GLOBAL SEMINAR PRESENTATION.”
No one knew who had put those posters there. They just crowded around them, making silly remarks about them in a hilarious manner. The dean had seen it too, but himself was amazed, never remembering having taken any picture in the ‘skull-clicking’ pose like the one in the poster. But seeing it, Henry’s mind flashed back to his first encounter with the dean in his office, when he was bragging and clicking his skull subconsciously as he prided himself on being wiser than Albert Einstein, in Henry’s presence then.
“Someone must have snapped him then,” thought Henry, calling back to memory the flashes of light he’d seen then, coming from the window.”
Henry soon joined the Professor in the Airport. The plane arrived after some moments of waiting patiently. The two were not silent all through the flight period. They were busy all the while discussing, since their seats were abutting each other.
The dean said, “Young man, have you been to the campus this morning—before coming to the airport?”
“Y-Yes,” said Henry, already speculating what the lecturer had intended to do with the question. As conjectured by Henry, Professor Wilson said further, “I’m definitely sure you saw those pictures of myself and Einstein put side by side.”
“I saw them. What about them?”
“Who did that?”
“I don’t know, “Henry said. “All I know is I didn’t do it.” Henry had quickly uttered such to get himself out of the trouble he was insinuating.
“That fellow must be a silly plonker!” the dean had yelled. “Henry, d’you know the implication of the statement he’d written along with the picture? If I don’t win the award then I’m not a match for Einstein—that’s the implication.” The dean resumed his speech. “But…that’s not philosophically true.”
Henry never uttered a word. His chin was leaning on his right palm, probably, engrossed in thought.
“Dude, If I lay my hands on him I’ll sure tear him apart. I’m quite sure he’s going to be expelled from the CCUL,” said the dean frankly. He spoke on as Henry remained speechless beside him, like an android, which had been asked to keep shut.
“I don’t even know when the picture was taken. I’ve never posed myself that way in any of my photographs. Checked through them yesterday and never came across any as such,” the dean murmured continuously.
“I think I know when it was taken,” said Henry suddenly and the dean gripped the collar of his silky shirt immediately, demanding impatiently when it was.
“The first day I stepped into your office, while you were telling me about your ability, which, according to you, surpasses that of Albert Einstein,”
The dean, having remembered, said, “Then who snapped me?” Henry saw it as an opportunity to get the dean to tell him what the seventh question was all about. He was going to use diplomacy to get it.
“Promise me you’ll remind me of the seventh question if I tell you.”
“I will,” agreed the dean impetuously.
“Sincerely I don’t know who…but, I saw flashes of light coming from the window. I’m sure the photographer was standing behind the window then. So… the seventh question,” Henry demanded. “At least I’ve told you all I know—about the incident.”
“Sincerely I don’t know the last question—I’ve forgotten it too,” said the dean uproariously. “I’ll be a fool if I tell you that, when you didn’t provide an answer to my own question too.” “But will you tell me if I eventually find out and tell you who was behind the picture?”
“Sure,” the man had agreed.
“It’s a deal,” Henry had said.

Thanks for the update. I'm so loving this story... Kudos

oluwatosin070:
Thanks for the update. I'm so loving this story... Kudos

Thanks

The plane soon touched down. A taxicab was already waiting to pick up the professor.
“Sir, are you Professor Wilson Gee,” said the taxi driver and the dean said, “Yes.” The man noticed Henry and said, “Is he your kid?”
“Yeah, my kid,’ the dean said, but the driver had got one more question for Henry, “What’s your name?” “Henry White,” said Henry, but his answer seemed not sufficient to satisfy the dean, who said immediately, “Henry Gee, not Henry White.” Nevertheless, they got into car and it sped off.
Henry thought he’d known something; that the dean would stop saying “Henry Gee,” as soon as he had lost out in the seminar presentation. Henry was instantly lost in thought:
“He’ll say, ‘Henry White, you’re not going back home with me. You’d better find your way back to campus yourself.’ I’ll say, ‘Sir I’ve got no airfare’ but he’ll say, ‘I don’t care’. I’ll say, ‘Sir… but you brought me here for God’s sake. Is this how you want to have me punished?’ He’ll say angrily, ‘This isn’t punishment. Be sure I’ve got stacks of punishments, real ones, waiting for you on campus. Be sure I’ll see to it that you don’t graduate Summa Cum Laude from the CCUL.’
“I’ll say, ‘But why? I think I said it then that I’m not capable of writing for you an award-winning synopsis. I’m a teenager for God’s sake.’ He’ll say, ‘Shut up there! Collins the youngest Professor in history was only nineteen when he became a professor. Ain’t you nineteen too—so what’s it you’re saying that you’re not capable of…?”
Henry screamed suddenly, “I’m not Collins for Christ’s sake—got my own destiny to fulfill!” He soon became aware of what had happened. Henry had just let out a scream, a product of the ‘He’ll-say-I’ll-say’ imagination he’d occupied his addled brain with.
“Henry, are you all right at all?” the dean barked. “I don’t think so?” he had added in disagreement to Henry’s head movement. “You yelled like that just because I tapped you to inform you that we’ve got to our destination? You’ll sure tell me who that Collins of yours is.” While the man spoke, Henry kept mute, but that doesn’t make the dean stop talking. Instead, the man became more persistent.
“Are you dreaming or what…or did I call you Collins?”
“I’m very sorry. I’d been in a reverie,” Henry had pleaded, intending to make him keep calm. “I’m very very sorry,” he said again, as if two adjoining “veries” would do instead of one to placate the dean.
It’s alright,” said the dean. “Let’s alight.”
Henry’s heart missed a beat.
The presentations were broadcast worldwide. After all the hustle and bustle of the day, Professor Wilson was eventually announced the gold medal award winner to Henry’s amazement. He was given a check instantly, bearing a large amount of cash. The silver medal went to Professor Teddy Brown from England, while the Bronze medal honor was for Professor Kofi Johnson of Africa (who was a Ghanaian, known to Henry in Gyrus). Henry’s joy knew no bound on hearing his dean’s name called as the number one. Seeing Henry when the judge was about to announce the winners earlier, one would have clearly perceive that Henry was more under pressure than any of the contenders—even the dean. Henry had felt that somebody from bigger Universities such as Harvard or Oxford would have carried the day. He had almost collapsed when the judge was announcing it:
“And the winner is professor…” the speaker had paused deliberately, maybe, to increase the blood pressure of every one in the large auditorium.
As expected, the spectators had said “Professor what?” and the judge had finally said, “Professor Wilson Gee from the University of California…here in the US.” Then shouts of joy, which might have possibly been adulterated by some immeasurable amounts of contumelious moans by the unsatisfied ones, had filled the air. Seemed Henry’s voice was the loudest. He had screamed, “I did it!” to the hearing of people around him, jumping and leaping triumphantly, but the poor boy had received a sharp query from one of them.
“ You did what?” asked a black man who was sitting next to him, while many others were staring at him too.
“Em…Em,” Henry stammered, knowing that there was nothing he had to say.
“Young man, you’re just fooling around here in a corner, yelling for someone who never knows who you are,” another man had said, and yet another said, “You’d better not let the Professor hear that you said you did what he did. A dream that can never be accomplished, that’s what you’ve got. He’ll sue you.” She was a young lady.
Not able to swallow the shame, Henry had sneaked away from their presence to another place.
A limousine pulled up the next day in front of the motel they had lodged in overnight. It was an entirely different vehicle this time, from the one that had transported them to the presentation venue. The limousine pulled up at the Seattle Tacoma International Airport, from where they took their flight back to California.
Aboard the plane, they spoke again:
“Henry Gee, I’m so proud of you. I’m sorry I’ve got no time with you yesterday, due to my frailty…you know…after times of sleepless nights.
“No thanks Prof., you did it,” said Henry, but the man said, “We did it!” instead, then he added excitedly, “Got an open check for you.”
“What’s it sir?”
“Ask anything from me till the one-third of the cash prize,” said the dean. Just as if he knew what Henry can do the man quickly modified his words by saying, “But don’t ask what I can’t do.” Some kinds of emotional expressions of elation had explicitly elevated Henry’s mood on hearing the dean’s statements, so he asked promptly, “The seventh question…and the answer.”
“I can’t tell you that Henry.”
“I thought you’ve just said that I should ask you anything,” Henry frowned.
“Yeah, but I said—don’t ask me what I can’t do. To get the seventh question you have my condition already—to get me the photographer,” said the dean, smiling.
“Well—I’ll sure find that out—very soon,” Henry had resolved.
Henry was silent again, but the dean had to remind him of the open check. “You’ve not asked me what you want me to do for you?” the dean had said, but Henry had replied, “First thing first…I need the seventh question. Maybe I’ll think of what to ask after that.”
“It’s okay,” the Professor had said, and in a short moment he was dozing off unconsciously beside the wondering boy.

On arriving the Campus the man was made the centre of attraction, having become the cynosure of all eyes. Everyone was chanting and ranting, willing to touch the dean, who himself was waving proudly at them. The reporters and journalists too had been waiting patiently for his arrival. They made movement very difficult for him in attempts to get his voice down. The school security personnel had fought relentlessly too, to get rid of the mob on him, but no way. They had attempted to pull Henry away from him, who was glad to be the closest person to the dean, walking hand in hand with him. The man, having noticed that the security men were trying to get Henry away from him, had suddenly held on to Henry firmly, perhaps to let Henry have the feeling that he was not through with him yet.
“Professor Wilson Genius,” they had shouted. Some gave him several snapshots. “Professor of Professors,” they applauded.
Among the jostling throng Henry spotted Cynthia waving happily towards his direction too, and suddenly it appeared to Henry as if she was the only one he was seeing right before him. Their eyes came in contact and Henry gave her a friendly wink, but she only reciprocated with a look of scorn, leaving the scene immediately.
The pestering crowd forced some words out of the Professor’s mouth:
“You can take the medal if you can persistently step on the pedal by consistently hardworking and insistently believing that you’ll make it,” the Professor spoke out. It seemed the Professor had painstakingly memorized the witty speech he’d just spoken out before now. “Professor Wilson Genius, can you briefly tell us what had led to this great achievement of yours?” asked an eager female journalist.
“Well, it’s hard-work, nothing more. I’ve been working hard for many years, always keeping awake when everybody on earth is sleeping,” the dean had boasted, then he added, “Whoever you are, you can become a genius overnight—through hardworking.”
“Professor, some of your students had said that you’ve got the ability to make a genius out of people, just as you did to this boy standing with you here,” continued the female Journalist. Her teeth were not a little scattered inside their abode, as if some earthquakes that had taken place long ago in her mouth had been responsible for it.
“Yeah—it’s not possible for a person to make friendship with a genius without himself becoming a genius—that’s the situation here,” the dean had said.
At last the two achievers, Professor Wilson and Henry, entered the dean’s office. What they met was another surprise: the photograph of the geniuses—Einstein and Wilson. But this time Henry was in it too, carrying a dozen of textbooks. On this particular one was written:
“And this guy too; He is a match for the Professor and Einstein.”
Seeing it, the Professor shouted, “Heeeeeenry!” and the boy replied with fear, “I didn’t do it!”
“I’ll shoot you dead immediately if you give me that,” said the dean, pointing out two fingers at him, disbelieving his confession. Henry feared that some bullets were going to come out from those fingers, having visualized the possibility of such speculated occurrence as it had occurred in a Hollywood blockbuster movie he had watched of recent.
“Believe me, I didn’t” Henry said in fright.
“Who then is it?” the Professor said incredulously. “Answer me—uh.”
“How can it be me?” said Henry. “How on earth did I put this thing here while we were both in Washington together?” The dean guffawed at his word. Then he said, “Didn’t you come around to the school premises this morning? I’m sure you’ve done that before coming to meet me in the airport.”
“I came around quite alright, but the only place I visited was the library, to return some books—not your office,” the boy voiced out with a ruffled face. “Besides, I don’t have the key to your office, so there’s no way I could have gained entrance into it. I’m no sneak thief.”
Smiling, the dean said, “But you do have the magic. Perhaps you used it—to open the lock.”
“Not me,” said Henry on hearing the word ‘magic’, in a way that could make one believe that Henry would never have anything to do with witchcraft. “I’ve not used the magic for once.” The two kept silent.
Henry was the one who made the change to the silent ambiance by the words he spoke, “Sir, give me a short time and I’ll discover the one behind this.” One hearing this, the dean stopped pointing at him. Then Henry developed the gut to say, “Your fingers—have you got some magic in them too—to gun me down?” It elicited hilarity from the dean’s mouth. Amidst the laughter the man said, “Just to scare you dudes, there’s no such power as to possess bullets inside fingers.” Nevertheless, Henry said in his mind, “What about those mortal combatants in my computer game?”
“Once and for all, Henry, thanks for the award-winning synopsis you wrote—for me,” said the dean, and Henry had replied, “You’re welcome” but his heart was saying, “Why didn’t you say so in the public for all to hear?”
Later Henry said, “Can I take my leave—now?”
“Not until you’ve received something from me, for the award…”
“Until I’ve known who pasted them everywhere I won’t get anything from you,” said Henry, pointing to the strange poster on the wall.
Coming as an afterthought Henry said, “I’ve got a question to ask.” Having received a gesture from the dean Henry said, “You said something’ll happen to me if you didn’t win the award. What was it?”
The dean denied it unscrupulously.
“I can’t remember saying such.”
“You said that,” Henry said wonderingly. “I remember vividly how you had said it. You said, Just go through ’em all, prepare for me an award-winning synopsis. Seven days to do this Henry, else…”
The man was prompted to say, “Oh, I can remember now. But Henry how were you able to preserve the exact words I used that day? Or, is it your magnetic brain doing it for you?”
Henry made a piteous reply, “It’s because those words were threats to me. They kept on ringing in my brain from the moment you uttered them to the time you got the award yesterday.”
The dean felt sorry for Henry and made it known to him by saying, “I’m sorry for putting you through such horrible experience.” Then he answered Henry’s question slyly by saying, “Nothing was the something that was going to happen to you if I hadn’t won the award—is that okay?”
“I can’t admit that,” Henry said. “Sir, can you remember the day I said ‘nobody’ was the ‘somebody’ I told about our meeting, you refused to accept it?”
The man’s countenance fell, not knowing what to say. The dean’s condition offered Henry the opportunity to say, “Sir, I won’t leave here except you tell m—else…”
The dean had perceived the boy was going to keep to his resolution, so he had cleverly said, “I never want you to hear this, but, I’m now left with no option other than to tell you.”
“What’s it?” said Henry curiously.
“I’ve spent forty-four good years in this planet and won forty prominent laurels—including the Nobel Prize, but I was still unfulfilled…”
“Why?” barged in Henry.
“Because I’d not won the Professor award yet. So to be fulfilled in life I’d asked you to write the thesis for me.” What the dean was professing was true, but that was not the ‘else’ Henry had demanded.
“Do you mean if you hadn’t won it yesterday, you won’t win it anymore for the rest of your life?”
“Exactly,” the dean had said.
“Why d’you feel so?”
“My inner magical spirit had told me that. Henry, as soon as you joined the cult, I felt it that the synopsis which would bring me the award wouldn’t come from any one other than you. To get you to write the damn thing for me I had to put you in a state whereby you wouldn’t have a choice than to write it. Therefore, I made the mystery that had led you into it—your trouble with Susie.”
To Henry it was far more than trouble. The dean had ensured his friendship with Susie.
“I still have nine more things to achieve,” the dean said further and Henry was shocked.
“So—you mean you’ll be stopping at fifty awards, even if you will be living up hundred years?”
“Exactly,” the dean said. Instantly then, the man was desiring Henry’s exit in such a manner as if he had got some secrets to keep away from the boy.[

Since hearing from the man, Henry had set a goal of seventy-five laurels for himself. From the turn-out of things, Henry had conjectured the person behind the ‘poster issue’—“Ted”, Henry thought. But Henry took caution not to be too much in a hurry to tell the dean it was him. He was going to have it confirmed first.
As he walked, Pete came around. The way Pete had approached Henry seemed to him that the boy was coming to make mockery of him.
“Hullo little lady-freak,” shouted Pete while still few distances away from Henry.
“Pete don’t get me upset,” Henry yelled back, to keep the boy away from him. Henry had long recognized Pete as the most cowed human he had ever seen in the human race. But it appeared Pete had dropped the jinx with the way he was moving confidently to towards Henry. He seemed not to be scared of Henry’s warning a bit.
“What are you going to do—huh?” queried Pete without fear or trembling. “You think by pasting your picture everywhere around the school so that you can get popular, then that’ll do to get Cynthia off my hands—huh? That’ll not work,” Pete dressed him down, yet he had some more things to say.
“I’ve told you she’s not a brainiac-freak.”
Henry looked sternly at Pete and withdrew from him. The boy was not through with him yet.
“Henry,” Pete called. “Next time I see you wink at her, I’m going to blot out those ugly eyes of yours.” Then he began to walk away like a boss of a big firm who was involved in a kind of illegal business, the types depicted in action movies.
Henry shouted, “Pete, I’ll get her from you,” on the top of his voice, in a manner suggesting that Henry had wanted to engender a contention so that he could have something to win. Pete yelled back, but his voice was not audible enough for Henry to decipher, for the reason of the distance between the source and the observer, which had swallowed up the sound before reaching the observer.

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Searching everywhere for Ted, he was not found. Henry had endured much insult, resulting from the friendly wink he had made to Cynthia the day before. He had felt that if life could be rewound he was going to have the wink replaced with a wrinkled face to make a whole difference. The reason for this intention was brought about by the winks Henry now receiving from every side.
Henry’s winking action towards Cynthia a day ago had become a household stuff, the happening having been spread by Pete. Henry felt it was the ‘law of sowing and reaping’ taking effect:
“Give out a wink, receive back a handful.”
Henry had been rechristened “Winkie!” by allies and foes. All the girls he had turned down their proposals in the past now had him in derision.
“Winkie!” they called anytime they set their eyes on him, but one of those girls had a different view. She was Susie.
“I’m sorry I caused all this,” she said to Henry.
“You caused nothing, it’s my fate,” Henry told her, having the feelings that Susie’s continuous plea had got into a state of redundancy. But factually the more Susie was saying that she was sorry, the more Henry was getting enamored with her secretly.
“I know you never put those posters out there,” said Susie.
Susie seemed to be the only one who believed the pasting of the posters was not Henry’s handiwork, contrary to the belief of others, the dean included, who had opined that Henry had done it as a means to achieving some ends. However, her reason was backed up with the fact that she’d not only seen Ted putting those pictures in place everywhere they’d been situated, but she had also seen him standing behind the dean’s office to take some shots with his camera. Her evidences had justified, or rather, corroborated Henry’s claim.
Getting to Ted’s door, Henry gave it some hard knocks. It appeared the boy was going to knock down whatever would come out of there the same way he was knocking the door, but
fortunately—perhaps unfortunately—nothing came out of Ted’s room.
“Shit!” Henry vociferated as he turned back to go, having punished the door with frequent knocks. Just then he heard a clanking sound behind him, then a loud, “Winkie!” followed. Henry, shocked, looked behind him and saw the door opened as if of its own accord. Henry got inside and was gazing haphazardly at every corner to see who was in, but it was a futile exercise. He was gutted.
“Winkie!” he heard again, and a thud came in tandem with the voice.
“Ted!” screamed Henry, surprised. Ted had jumped down from the ceiling where he had hid himself. Henry, who was not in the mood to have any lengthy discussion, said, “You fool! I’ve been looking for you since yesterday. You pasted those posters, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Ted had responded.
“The dean’s picture in there, you snapped it—on February 27.”
“Yeah, but how d’you know this?” Ted was amazed.
“How I know these is none of your business,” Henry bawled. “Ted you’re in trouble.”
Ted began to panic.
“So… you two saw me rush out of the dean’s office yesterday.”
Ted was thinking that Henry and Professor Wilson had seen him while he was trying to escape from the dean’s office. Hardly had he put the poster in there when they arrived. He had managed to escape unnoticed.
“We never knew you were there, but Ted, be sure you’re dead.” It was Ted’s turn to bark at Henry.
“Why then did you say I’m dead? Did the dean see me?”
“No Ted, but I’m assuring you that you’re a dead man.”
Ted was upset. He had managed to say, “I’m sure you guys saw me fleeing, which was the reason I’ve been hiding since yesterday. It was the second version of the poster I had just finished pasting there when you arrived—the one that has your picture. Henry, please tell me, how did you know I was responsible for it?”
Henry left saying, “You are dead” to respond to Ted’s question.
“The door was opened without a key, so what else? The dean will roast you alive.”
“He saw me, isn’t it?” said Ted with great trepidation.
“Not at all, but I’m quite sure he’ll discover it.”
“How? Through you?”
“As if you don’t know how. Ted, you’re the only one in the magic known to him apart from me, so what other clue does he need?”
Ted laughed and said, “Stop fibbing Henry. We’ve got lots of us here—magicians. I know five, Ken, Joyce and Cheung inclusive—so leave that talk man.”
“What!” Henry cried out. “Li Cheung a magician—Impossible? Not that gentle and naïve boy in the department of Mathematics.”
“Who else?” Ted had said, using rhetorical question to affirm his confession. Ted went further to say, “You can’t tell from the face—Cheung can be pretending.” Ted added, “Back to what I’d said, there’s no way the dean would know it’s me—if you don’t tell him. By the way, how did you know that I snapped the man?”
Henry told Ted about the flashes he had seen.
“Wow!” Ted expressed great shock. “I never knew you were the guy in there with him that day; didn’t see you clearly through the panes.”
“All the same the dean will have you strangled—by himself,” said Henry in a way that had suggested his disinterestedness in the tête-à-tête going on.
“He didn’t know, did he?”
“He’ll surely use his power to get you,” said Henry. His statement had evoked laughter from Ted, who said, “He can’t. He is not going to use it on trivia such as this. Listen dude, in the magical circus it’s forbidden to use the magic just anyhow. Every unworthy use of the magic reduces your lifespan gradually.”
“Holy Connolly!” yelled Henry. “So, what’s the yardstick—used to distinguish trivial matters from cogent ones?” Ted’s sudden silence had suggested that he was confused, not able to clearly spell it out himself. At last he said, “I don’t know, but I’m feeling that this issue’s a trivial one.”
Ted’s confession seemed to have opened the door to the room of questions for Henry, and he’d readily entered into it:
“It means the issues of me getting Cynthia by magic or controlling Kate by it too are trivia, or what d’you think?”
“Maybe—” said Ted tardily, “I’m not sure.”
“So, how on earth is one going to know the difference between trivia and serious matters in the magic world if you keep saying you’re not sure?” Henry had yelled out his fear, but had only received a sudden muteness from Ted as a response. Henry was scared, having delivered his heart to a horrible thought decked with fear—the thought of reduction in lifespan. Since Ted was not going to speak, Henry’s heart began to pulsate and he started murmuring.
“What has been my gain? Since getting into magic only fear has been my reward. The ‘winkie stuff’ is the current one now. Yet, any attempt to use this shit may reduce my life…” Henry hesitated and looked at Ted, who was still in the posture Henry had last seen him with, but this time sweating profusely.
“Ted!” Henry shook him, but he wasn’t responding. Henry shook him the more and he responded.
“I’m sorry for keeping silent on you,” Ted apologized. “What you said made me horrified—that the Professor will kill me if he discovers this.”
“Didn’t you say it’s trivia and he won’t check it out?”
“I’m not sure of that anymore,” Ted said secretively. “Please Henry, don’t tell him I did this,” pleaded Ted in a disposition suggestive of the fact that Ted was scared of something, even beyond the present issue.
“Why should I? What’s going to be my gain if I tell him?” said Henry, deceiving his conscience again, and Ted too. Deep down Henry’s heart he had determined to tell the dean about it (though he would plead with the dean not to do anything to Ted) so that he could get the seventh question from the man.
“Thanks a lot,” said Ted and Henry replied, “No thanks, dude. I’ve got to go now.”
Recalling the response he had given to Ted, Henry gave a smile. He was proud of himself again.
“Why should I? That was my response,” Henry thought. “At least I’ve not told a lie. I’ve only asked a question.”

The day after, Henry began to walk to the dean’s office to tell him that he had discovered the photographer, or the designer of the posters.
“Come inside,” said the dean and Henry rushed in with great alacrity.
“Henry, you came so early. Hope nothing’s wrong.” Henry went straight to the point.
“I know who pasted those posters—sir, you’ll have to promise me that you’ll not punish the chap.”
“Don’t you worry Henry, It’s Ted. He had just left this place. You guys should have met each other outside there.”
“We didn’t,” Henry whispered in disappointment. The man’s statement had enervated Henry immensely. “Did he tell you he was responsible for it?”
“Of course!’ the dean said.
“So…did you do anything to him? Remember, you said you’ll strangle him.”
“Definitely, I did something for him. I gave him some cash. He had come pleading for mercy, but I surprised him when I threw some dollars on him.”
“But why?” The man smiled and said, “That guy has done me proud. Placing me beside Einstein means I’m better than Einstein—that’s the impression he’d created in the heart of everyone who had seen those posters. If I’d lost the award then it could have been the other way round.”
“Meaning that you won’t remind me of the seventh question anymore,” Henry had deduced sadly.
“Forget it. Don’t talk about that question anymore. And—don’t even ask anyone about it.”
“Alright,” said Henry in a frustrated manner. “So—what’s my reward for the award?”
“It’s an open check Henry. Ask whatever you need,” said the dean. “But not what I cannot do,” he added as an afterthought.
“Sir, I need your influence—get me into the school basket ball team,” said Henry in a very serious manner.
Surprised, the dean said, “Is that the request?”
“Yeah, just that,” Henry replied.
“You’re unpredictable, he said. “Your request is granted.”
Henry was going to have a great conflict with Ted. He blamed himself for not being fast enough to have got to the dean’s office before Ted.
“That Ted’s always a stumbling block. I’ll end this relationship,” Henry soliloquized in the heat of his wrath. His vexation was hinged on the fact that Ted had cost him getting the seventh question.
Henry walked down to the court. He was going to meet Ted, who was busy in the practice of Volleyball. Henry beckoned to Ted as he caught sight of him and Ted left his mates immediately, asking them to excuse him for a minute. After walking to a secluded place, the two began to discuss.
“Ted, you’ve gone mad. Why did you go to the Professor?” Henry said angrily.
“Didn’t you say he was going to strangle me? For fear I had to let him know I was the designer of those posters before he finds it out himself.”
“And why d’you think he’ll kill you for such a minor issue?”
“I just felt that way,” said Ted, “Can’t explain.”
“With your action Ted, you’ve cost me knowing the seventh question and its answer. I’ve never failed this much,” Henry complained.
Ted consoled him. “Calm down Henry, you’re a man. I’m assuring you, gradually you’ll acclimatize in the magic world. No one’s going to sit you down to tell you the heap of rules and regulations in the magic—you get them by experience.”
“By experience?” said Henry, expressing disgust. “What if I inadvertently broke a rule whose penalty is death?”
“That’s the risk you’ve got to bear. Listen, every great men face such risk too. Faraday died by what he invented. Marie Curie was not also exempted from this. She died by over-exposure to radiation,” Ted revealed. “Henry, If you stop taking risk then you stop achieving something in life. Life is a risk.”
“Liar!” Henry uttered immediately. It stunned Ted, who asked Henry why he’d called him a liar.
“Not you,” said Henry genuinely. “I mean life. Didn’t you say ‘life is a risk’ just now?”
“So…”
“Letter ‘l’ for ‘life’; ‘i’ for ‘is’; ‘a’ for ‘a’ and ‘r’ for ‘risk’—liar!” Henry deduced to Ted’s amazement.
“Have you had that before?”
“Not at all. Got it just now—as you speak.”
“You’re a genius,” Ted said as if he was just knowing it.

CHAPTER NINE
JEFF VERSUS CHEUNG

Li Cheung appeared too immature to be in the university. He was only thirteen and was in his third year. Cheung was gentle, just as Henry had said. Seeing Cheung no one would believe he could belong to a magic cult. His face looked innocent. Indeed Cheung did not like the condition he had found himself. Cheung had not asked to be initiated into cultism. He had only got there by accident.
What led into his initiation was his timid nature. Since becoming a freshman, at a tender age of ten and half, Cheung had begun to experience incessant troubles from Jeff, who had utilized the opportunity that Cheung was too little to fight back to ride roughshod on him. Jeff had asked Cheung to always share his pocket money with him; the bully would always part with the lion share. Cheung’s timidity had made him keep silent, not telling anybody about it.
One day, while Jeff was cruelly dealing with Cheung, Professor Brown witnessed it per chance. Jeff took to his heels as he sighted the man. The man took Cheung to his office to have a rapport with him. He told Cheung to meet him by Six pm the next day, promising to take him to a place where his timidity would be taken from him permanently. Cheung had accepted innocently, not knowing where the man was taking him. Getting to the man’s office, he was asked seven questions, as usual with the magic world where the man had belonged. Cheung could not answer any. In that state, they left for Gyrus. Cheung was extremely scared. He wept sore in Gyrus that day.
Professor Brown never lived to tell Cheung the answers to the seven questions, because he died that day in Gyrus in a fight of position with Professor Kent Robins, who was the ‘Power Guard’ in Gyrus. Cheung, who had remained weeping after the meeting, had to be brought back to earth by Professor Wilson’s touch on the head.
Two years since becoming a magician, Cheung never used his magical power. He never even knew that he had any such thing. Jeff continued to oppress him. Ted saw the poor boy one day when Jeff was beaten him up.
“Ain’t you from China? You must show me the Bruce Lee stuff,” Jeff said to Cheung as he threw his fist at his chest.
Ted was unable to bear it. He approached Jeff and said, “Hey, leave the poor boy alone, bully. Don’t you have little ones at home you can use as a punching bag?”
Jeff was surprised beyond measure. No one had ever challenged him in such manner. He came closer to Ted as if to beat him up, but Ted had backward fast to avoid him.
“You want to fight for him, isn’t it? I’ll handle you both—with my smallest finger.”
“You’re stupid,” Ted said, not regarding the presence of Jeff’s followers. Jeff beckoned on his accessories to take hold of Ted and they did. After punching Ted on the stomach, they shoved them off and they fell. As the bullies were departing, Ted screamed.
“Wait there!” His shout brought them to a halt. Jeff said, “D’you want to fight back?” Unexpectedly, Ted said, “Cheung will fight you back, not me.”
They laughed.
“No! No!” Cheung gave a frightful yell in disagreement.
“You see, he doesn’t want it,” said Jeff, who was ready for the fight. Then Ted said, “Not today. He’ll surely fight you tomorrow, 5pm. Save your power till then—uh.”
“It’s a deal,” said Jeff, walking away.
Ted, who was on his feet already, helped Cheung to get up too. It was the first time they would be coming together, though Ted had seen him in Gyrus aforetime.
“Thanks mister,” said Cheung. “He’d always been treating me that way.”
“Since when,” asked Ted.
“First day at school.”
“What the hell!” Ted screamed. “Ain’t you with power?”
“Power!” Cheung had said in abject ignorance. “I can’t comprehend you.” Ted reduced his tone and said, “You are a magician, isn’t it?” Cheung expressed shock and said, “How d’you know?”
“I’ve seen you in Gyrus many times with this same kind of lugubrious face.”
“You’re right,” admitted Cheung. “But it was against my wish that I became a magician. I want to quit, but it seems no way,” said Cheung, shedding tears.
“Hey, stop that man. You’re a big guy.”
“I’m not!” shouted Cheung. “I’m only thirteen.”
“You’ve got much power Cheung. You should have stopped Jeff long ago—with your power.”
“How? I’ve never used any such power. I don’t know if I’m in possession of such. I’ve got no one to put me through since joining the magic, so how would I know?”
“The person that took you there, why didn’t he put you through?” asked Ted in a surprised state and Cheung said, “He died before returning from Gyrus that day.”
“How?” Ted asked. “In a fight—with the Power Guard,” Cheung replied.
“Who?”
“Professor Brown.”
Ted nodded and smiled having just discovered what the real death of the late Professor Brown was. Ted had earlier thought that some armed robbers, according to the news that was aired on TV, killed the man. Professor Brown’s age was only forty-one when he gave up the ghost. It was just two weeks after Cheung’s initiation that Ted was brought to Gyrus too, by Professor Wilson.
To intimate Cheung with the possibility of achieving things with the magic, Ted revealed the mystery of Julius’ missing teeth. Cheung was intrigued.
“So, boy, you’ll surely fight Jeff tomorrow.”
“No, I can’t,” Cheung said, still timid.
“Don’t panic. Listen to the plan. I’ll inform the Student-Gyrusers I know, Ken, Joyce and Henry. We’ll combine our effort together and you’ll deal with that fool, I can assure you.” Doubting, Cheung said, “How?”
“Magically.”
“Will they co-operate?”
“Just leave that to me—uh,” said Ted and Cheung nodded childishly in the affirmative.
“So—may I know you?” said Cheung giving him a hand.
“Ted—Ted Manuel,” responded Ted. The boy smiled a reply, “Li Cheung my name,” he said.
“As if I don’t know,” Ted had replied amicably.
“Thanks a lot.”
Leaving Cheung, Ted went straight to inform Ken and Joyce about the fight. The two had agreed willingly to give out their energies. Ted had sought after Henry, but he could not find him. Ted was told later that Henry was sick, and he was in the clinic.

tongue licking.

dlawsamesq:
tongue licking.

And you'll not lick your tongue for too long.

Ted,” Henry whispered on seeing him.
“Henry, What’s wrong?”
“I have a fever.”
“Sorry,” Ted said. Not minding the condition Henry was, Ted said instantly, “Cheung will have a fight with Jeff tomorrow, 5pm. I’ll need you to help him.”
“I don’t fight,” said Henry with an unusual lean voice.
“I’m not asking you to fight. I only need you to combine your ‘em’ with mine, Joyce’s and Ken’s. We’ll blow up that fool, Jeff.” Ted had said ‘em’ in order to avoid using the word ‘magic’, justifying his thought with the fact that those in the ward could pick it up.
Henry replied, “I’ve got no ‘em’ to combine… What d’you mean? Ted bent his back, lowered his face close to Henry’s head and whispered it to him. He got it. Henry raised his head too, to speak to Ted, “I’ve told you I’m not going to make use of it.”
“Cheung’s using it, not you,” said Ted worryingly. “Or you want Cheung beaten up?”
“Why should I? But I’m quite sure you guys’ own are enough to deal with Jeff, so leave me out of this. I’m sick over here for God’s sake!”
“Jeff’s powerful, one more effort will do—yours. Henry it’s tomorrow, 5p.m, venue, my room, bye,” Ted had said, taking some quick strides to leave the ward.
‘I’m not coming.”
Ted’s commanding tone was the most offensive to Henry. Though Henry would want Jeff beaten up, yet he made a resolution not to be involved in it, reason, the manner of approach Ted had utilized to disseminate the information.
“ It’s going to be fun all the same, either Cheung loses or win,” Henry had thought.
The following day was the fight. Funny enough, almost all the spectators were with placards, which were bearing the statement, “US versus China, who wins?”
Seemed Cheung was the only Asian present. He was not a bit willing to take up the challenge, but Ted kept reassuring him of victory. Ted handed a camera to someone he knew among the throng, who had come to watch the fight. Amazingly, a commentator was available to narrate the fight.
“Who’ll be the referee?” said a boy. “You do it,” he added, pointing to Ted.
“Me? Never…have I got to go now,” replied Ted as he took some steps away from the scene. He soon came to his door to find out that Joyce was waiting.
“You kept me waiting,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” said Ted as he opened his door with a key.
“Go in, Joyce,” Ted said, but Joyce replied in earnest, “I’m sorry I’ve only come to tell you that I can’t participate any longer.”
“I’m having fever,” she announced with a countenance underscoring her point, but Ted did not countenance her excuse.
“What’re you saying Joyce? Poor Cheung’s going to get killed. He’s too young to face Jeff all alone. He needs us now?” Ted barked at her.
“I’m sorry I’ve got to go—now,’ she said as she made to depart. Ted obstructed her and said, “You ain’t going nowhere. Listen to me, half cake’s better than none—”
“But I’m not better than none. I’m a girl, weak, sick and without strength,” she yelled. Ted yelled back, “You’re a giant, witch, skillful and with sorcery,” Joyce calmed down as if touched by Ted’s words. She began to weep, speaking vaguely, to expressing the pain in her heart. Ted drew closer to her and patted her back to console her. Already lost in the reverie of a future blissful marriage, Ted was jolted by the howls he was hearing, which was diffusing from the outside.
“US! US! US!” came the never-ending chants from Jeff’s supporters. Cheung had been beaten to a decubitus position. The two Gyrus-citizens indoor could no more wait to perform the magic. They held each other’s arm tightly and power flowed. The door was suddenly pushed inward and Ken emerged. Ken had earlier gone to witness the fight with the thought that the other three, Henry inclusive, would carry on with the energy transfer at his absence. He did not want to miss the imaginary scene of a small man dealing with a big and muscular one.
“What happened!” he screamed and Ted explained:
“Henry’s sick, Joyce’s sick too. Our effort’s not enough here.” Ken hasted with great impulse to contribute his effort to form a strong magic bond. Just then Henry emerged too.
“Enough!” Cheung suddenly cried out as if instantly invigorated by something. Jeff did not hearken to him, since the boy had been making same noises ever since the fight had begun. Cheung rose up swiftly and gave Jeff a heavy-duty punch on the face. Swollen face!
Jeff held his face and fell headlong. He wobbled to his feet again, but Cheung doled out slaps to his cheek, coupled with a head-butt and a kick. He fell again, this time with a heavy thud.
“Here’s the Bruce Lee stuff,” Cheung poked fun childishly to the horrified spectators, as he landed powerfully on the loser, whose body was already motionless.
“Who’s next?” Cheung had said, after dealing ruthlessly with the unconscious Jeff, but no one was ready to pick up the challenge.
“I said who’s next?” Cheung yelled even more, but himself began to hurry away before someone would say, “I’m next” having felt the withdrawal of a great deal of energy from his system at that instance.
Henry, who was just convalescing before the energy transfer, had managed to walk away, unlike Joyce, who fell helplessly to the floor, having contributed the little strength she had got at that moment. Henry felt light and powerless after the dismantling of the bond. He staggered for balance as he trudged back to the clinic where he had earlier sneaked out. On getting to his ward, Henry met a surprise:
A MONSTER ON THE BED!!!
It was Jeff wrapped up in bandages.
“Surprised!” said a nurse to Henry. “Your space was the only vacant one. Since you decided to sneak out earlier, you’re a-u-t-o-m-a-t-i-c-a-l-l-y discharged.”

CHAPTER TEN
HARRISON BURTON
Henry had discovered the name of the boy,
whose seat Henry’s own was abutting in Gyrus.
His name was Harrison. Ted had explained to
Henry that Harrison was the son of the
predecessor of the current Gyrus head of
magistrates. His name was Sergius Burton. He
was the most respected of all the past rulers
of Gyrus.
“Harrison’s father was Sergius Burton. He was
the most influential in the history of Gyrus. He
ruled Gyrus for quite a long year, died at
seventy-five. His death occurred just a week
before you were initiated, then his assistant,
Patrick Rutherford, the current head of
magistrates, was sworn in immediately to
succeed his boss.” Ted took time to talk about
Sergius. “Sergius was the only person initiated
at birth in the history of Gyrus. He made
immense contribution to Gyrus’ civilization
too. He upgraded the mirror so that it became
mobile of its own accord. No one knew the
man had a son until he brought him to Gyrus
recently to initiate him. Sergius died only three
days after his son’s initiation.”
“How?” asked Henry.
“It’s a mystery. Harrison alone was the
witness, since his father’s death took place in
a large study in his home. Harrison told us
that the man was murdered by some people he
had called thieves, explaining that his father
was stabbed by the thugs.”
“Serious!”Henry expressed shock. “Didn’t you
say he was powerful?”
“Of course yes, Henry, but I perceive the man
was on amnesia then.”
“Amnesia—loss of memory?”
“Yes, but that definition of yours is only valid
on earth,” said Ted. “In Gyrus ‘amnesia’ means
deliberate or unintentional loss of magical
power, which could be as a result of the
owner’s feeling that he needs to be without
the magical power for sometimes, or had been
stripped off it against one’s will by another
magician. The second is often performed
during fights between two or more magician.
“It’s crazy,” said Henry. “What’s the advantage
of the first—I mean the deliberate one?”
“It’s just to make you temporarily become an
ordinary person, you know, in feeling, thinking
and everything—you’ll be without power.”
“poo!” said Henry, expressing hatred towards
the concept. “I can be with my magic and
never make use of it, just as I’ve been doing
ever since I became a citizen of Gyrus.”
“Liar,” Ted said. “You can’t give me that poo—
you used it against Jeff, didn’t you?” Ted
revealed to Henry’s confusion.
“I didn’t. It was Cheung that used it—not me.”
“You used it to help Cheung, so you’ve used
it.”
Henry kept shut, feeling that Ted had won him
once more. “You this guy, were you not the
person that coerced me into it?”
“Not at all. You can’t push blames on others if
you want to make it in life. Henry, you can’t do
without using your power as a magician.”
“Hmm,” sighed Henry, “What about Cheung
you told me of? He has never used the poo!”
“Cheung always put himself on amnesia,
always occupying himself with the thought of
how to break lose from witchcraft.”
Henry did not tell Ted how Harrison had
proved to be an adversary to him without
reason. It then occurred to Henry the reason
Dolly and Harrison had never spoken to one
another since Henry’s arrival. However, Henry
had considered Harrison’s failure to socialize
as an oversight, trying on each ‘Gyrus-day’ to
make friendship with him.
Henry soon discovered that Harrison’s hobby
was to sit down watching Gyrus bloody fights,
something Henry loathed with all his soul. In
Gyrus, there had always been two kinds of
contests between two or more citizens—fight
of naturalization and fight of position. The
first was a kind of fight between two people
from different nations of the world, whereby
one is seeking to naturalize to the country of
the other. Such fight must always end up in
the death of one of the fighters, meaning that
if the one seeking to naturalize won the fight,
he would take up the seat of the other among
the nation he had wished to naturalize to. But
if it was the other way round, the winner
would maintain his seat, but would earn some
points.
The fight of position was a fight in which one
is seeking the position of the other. The
position-seeker must need win the fight to
earn some points (though such may not be
given the position immediately). If it was the
other way round, then the original position-
owner will earn more points. This may not
involve death.
Harrison had always harbored strong
indignation toward a winner who had
deliberately let alive his antagonist in the fight
of naturalization. During the fights, Harrison
had often looked to his side to discover that
Henry was bowing his head, disinterested in
the ongoing fights, not watching it.

This is a wonderful story, it got me hpoked all night long. I'm waiting patiently for the next meal @OP, it seems I'm starving already.

Dybala11:
This is a wonderful story, it got me hpoked all night long. I'm waiting patiently for the next meal @OP, it seems I'm starving already.

This is sammyluvin formally known as sammyho. The brain behind ebiag.com serving u as he dey hot.

Dybala11:
This is a wonderful story, it got me hpoked all night long. I'm waiting patiently for the next meal @OP, it seems I'm starving already.

Next meal is on fire and it will be dedicated to you. Thanks for following.

dlawsamesq:



This is sammyluvin formally known as sammyho. The brain behind ebiag.com serving u as he dey hot.

Thank you so much bro.

Dedicated to Dybala11


Harrison was a totally bad-tempered fellow.
Seeing Henry not enthusiastic about such
fight, Harrison had made a plan to relocate. He
was going to give the fight of naturalization a
consideration. Having endured the stay beside
] Henry for seven months, Harrison felt it was
time to put his thought into action. He walked
clumsily on the aisle separating the Chinese
and the Japanese in Gyrus. The population of
the Chinese nativity in Gyrus was
approximately four times that of the Japanese.
Such claim might just have justified their
respective populations on the planet earth.
Since every Gyrus citizen had got some
freakishly large range of view, Harrison had no
problem scanning through all those seated in
the section of the large hall where the Chinese
had sat. Spotting Cheung few kilometers away,
Harrison made a swoop to him in less than a
second. Harrison touched Cheung’s shoulder
lightly, but inimically, and said, “Here’s the
person.”
Fear gripped Cheung, who had been hiding his
face away from Harrison ever since his eyes
were roaming the Chinese area for someone to
have a fight with. Cheung’s tears flowed like
rivers of water. Cheung was of the thought
that his end had come. Cheung pleaded for
mercy, but Harrison’s fiendish nature would
not allow him to pick another for a fight. He
needed to fight with Cheung badly, having
sensed fear in his eyes earlier.
“He’ll make a walkover,” muttered Harrison to
the hearing of himself alone.
Seated on the left of Cheung was a boy of
about the same age as Harrison. His name was
Kim Park. Kim had been awarded the coveted
post of a Mystery Maker, having fought and
overcome many fights. Kim had watched
Cheung’s reaction ever since the time Harrison
had challenged him. Seeing Cheung’s reaction,
Kim had instantly developed a strong
sympathy for Cheung at that instance.
The Chief magistrate’s voice suddenly came up
saying, “Li Cheung, you’ve been picked for a
fight, so hurry up to save our time.”
Cheung’s head ‘rang bell’ on hearing the
suicidal call. Shivering to get up, he suddenly
heard a voice beside him:
“You can pick up a fight with me either.” It
was Kim. Harrison was scared on hearing
Kim’s pronouncement. Harrison had never
fought since getting to Gyrus, but had seen
Kim fight several times, defeating his
antagonists. Though Harrison was very much
afraid of Kim, he would not reject the fight
because of pride. The magistrate’s voice came
up again.
“Hurry up Harrison. You may decide not to
have a fight with Kim and go for Cheung
instead—if you insist.” The advice did a great
harm to Cheung’s system, who had instantly
resumed his whines.
Suddenly Harrison said, “Dear Management of
Gyrus, I’m not a bit scared of Kim, but I’d
loved it if you can just grant us some times to
practice for the contest.” Harrison bowed his
head to the magistrate as a sign of respect
after his speech.
“You’ve asked a hard thing,” came up the
voice of the magistrate. Well, left to me I’ll
grant you the permission, but I’ve got to
consult my co-magistrates, generals and
lieutenants to hear their views too.” Instantly
the mentioned ones had crowded around the
chief magistrate; all heads lowered to begin
brainstorming. They had one voice at last.
The magistrate came up again to say,
“Permission granted, but you’ve got only two
days.” Kim’s annoyance arose. He screamed,
“No, it’s better to fight it out now.”
“Shut up boy, we have spoken,” scolded the
magistrate.
Cheung’s gladness knew no bound. His bitter
tears were transformed to tears of joy at once.
When the meeting was rounded off, Cheung
was the first to leave the planet.
The Power Guard, Kent Robins, walked up to
Kim.
“Hello little boy, I can assist you to defeat that
boy,”
“Who are you?” replied Kim with a tone of
hostility.
“So, you don’t know who I am? You don’t
know the magic Power Guard. One who
maintains balance between Magic and Minors.
I see you’re nervous, that’s why I’ve come to
your rescue.”
“Me? Nervous?” the boy replied insolently.
“Sorry to say, I don’t need your help. I can
always defeat him.”
Harrison was listening to their conversation.
He waited patiently for Kim’s departure, then
he rushed to the Power Guard.
“Sir,” Harrison called out.
“Little boy, what d’you want?”
“What Kim had just refused.”
The man ran his hand through Harrison’s hair
and said, “You’re a wise boy Harrison, like
your father. We shall see tonight in the
mirror.”
Ted heard the brief discussion between
Harrison and the Guard while he was passing
by, but he had only walked past them as if he
was not concerned, since he had no single
interest in Gyrus fights.
Ted found Henry still glued to his seat.
“Henry, ain’t you leaving?”
“I’ll see Professor Wilson first.”
“About what?”
“To get the seventh question, or have you
remembered it?”
“No!” exclaimed Ted. “I don’t think I can ever
remember such question for the rest of my
life. Why can’t you pretend as if you’ve
forgotten there was any seventh question, so it
won’t bother you anymore?” Henry ignored his
suggestion, quickly changing the topic.
“Ted, what d’you think about the fight in the
next two days? Who’ll win?”
“I don’t like watching such fights. Whoever is
more powerful should win.”
“I don’t enjoy watching too, but this time I’d
prefer the Chinese boy.”
“Why d’you want him to win?”
“It’s obvious he’ll win.”
“I can bet it with you, Harrison will win,” Ted
said. Henry laughed a great deal.
“Let’s watch and see who wins this argument.”
Ted was about to leave the planet, but Henry
said, “Ted, are you not going to wait for me to
see the dean?”
“No, Henry, I’m perceiving that my uncle’s at
my bathroom door. He’s always watching my
moves these days. It’s already six minutes
since I’ve entered the bathroom.”
“Okay Ted, give me a minute more. We shall
be through.” Ted agreed and remained.
Henry said, “Why d’you think Harrison will
win? I don’t want to take chances. If he wins
I’ll sure drop my magic.”
“Why d’you say so?” Ted asked, full of
surprises.
“I don’t like him.”
“Why? He’s the son of Sergius. His father was
a good man.”
“For all I care Harrison’s nothing like his
father,” rebuffed Henry sharply.
“Why?”
“Because he hates me. Ted, remember I told
you I don’t like anyone who does not like me
and I like anyone who likes me.”
“What about Cynthia?” Ted reminded. “She
doesn’t like you but you love her.”
Henry said funnily, “Sorry, I’ve got to modify
what I’ve just said: it was a slip of tongue.”
Ted looked on to hear what Henry would come
out with.
Henry said, “I don’t like any boy who doesn’t
like me.” They laughed.
Ted said, “What has he done for you—I mean
Harrison?”
“He’s always wanting violence. He almost
made me lose my life one day while I was
racing to my seat to escape the death-bell. He
placed his leg on my path and I stumbled over
it. I wobbled to my seat just two microseconds
before the death-bell rang.”
“Huh!” sounded Ted in awe.
“And when I got to my seat he gave me a
thunderous slap; then I was still very new in
Gyrus.”
“So such a thing happened and you never told
me!” Ted said expressing shock. If you had
told me then I’d have picked a fight with him;
I’m his senior—got here before him,” boasted
Ted as if Gyrus position had been awarded
according to arrival time.
“Why should I tell you?” Henry said. “I
thought you said you don’t enjoying watching
two citizens fight.” Henry evinced his victory
in the argument by a grin, but Ted had
something to say.
“But I never said I don’t like participating
myself. What I don’t like is standing back while
the fight’s going on.”
The two burst into long-lasting giggles. Henry
howled, “Again!” and added, “Ted, on a more
serious note, did you use the magic to know
that Harrison will win?”
“No,” he replied. “You’re wasting my time,”
Ted expressed his uneasiness.
“Oh, I promise I’ll not exceed one minute.”
Henry remembered as he glared at his
wristwatch and screamed, “Wow! It’s one-hour
already! I wonder what it will be on earth!”
Ted hurriedly poked a hand into his pocket
and took out an object. It was a Gyrus
converter. Ted was intending to convert the
time mentioned to its earth equivalence.
“It’s not necessary Ted, I’ll use—”
“What else can be faster?”
“Einstein’s magic,” said Henry. “It’s the
human brain,” admonished Henry and added
excitedly, “Forty-five seconds approximately,
fifteen seconds left.”
“I don’t believe you. I’ll confirm that with
this,” said Ted as he hurriedly pushed a button
on the converter. The answer came clearly.
Henry was right.
“C’mon boy, you’re damn right,” ululated Ted.
“Yeah, won you this time.” Henry put his arms
up to celebrate his victory, but Ted was not
ready to give up the debate.
“No, you didn’t win me. You–said,” Ted was
thinking of what to say.
“Talk! Talk!” Henry said laughing heartily.
“I said I don’t believe your conversion, but—”
“But what?”
“I believe in Einstein’s Magic which you used.”
The two guffawed.
“You know something Henry?”
“No,” he replied.
“You’re a genius, like Einstein.” To poke fun
the more Henry said, “But Einstein’s a pure
genius, but I’m backing mine up with magic.”
“That’s why you are unique,” said Ted, then
he added, “Who can tell if he had also patched
it up with the big letter ‘em’?”
Henry was still on it.
“Do you agree I won the argument?”
“Sure, I quite agree.”
“Then it’s infinity-one—” declared Henry, “our
arguments score line so far.” Another laugh
followed. “Ted, tell me why you want Harrison
to win, or why you think Harrison will win.”
Ted then explained what he had heard the
Power Guard tell Harrison.
Henry yelled, “No, we mustn’t allow it. We’ve
got to report to the magistrates.”
“Let’s tell Kim to be careful instead,”
suggested Ted.
“Yes, in a mirror conference communication
tonight,” Henry said with unwonted zeal. It
seemed he was now, for the first time,
interested in using the mirror.
“That’ll be cool,” Ted uttered softly.
The two saw the dean at that instance. He’d
just ended his protracted discourse with the
head-magistrate.
“Hey, Ted, here’s the dean; let’s hurry to him,”
Henry suggested, but Ted contradicted. But
raised an apparent better, “Let’s shout his
name instead. Can’t you see he’s already set to
take off. Let’s shout now.”
The twosome hollered, “Professor Wils—”
They had to pause, since the dean had
vanished already. It irked Ted that his stay in
Gyrus since the close of the meeting was only
a wasted endeavor. Before Henry could say
“I’m Sorry for the delay” Ted had gone too.
It was Henry’s first experience to be left alone
in a whole planet.
“Awesome!” he screamed, but was not
preparing to leave yet.

HENRY MET GRANDWALA

Henry was tempted to take a tour round the planet, perhaps engrossed with the thought that he would include it in the autobiography to be written later, that he was first man to travel round a planet other than the earth on foot. Henry had earlier been told by the dean that it would not take more than forty-five minutes Gyrus-time for any citizen to take a tour round the planet, but had warned him that the adventure could be impossible because of some dangerous animals in the jungle there. Henry had not proved the authenticity of the Professor’s confession before then, so he felt that now would be the most suitable moment to try that.

Henry, as well as many other citizens, had never seen the said jungle before. As a matter of fact most of them never knew if such a thing was existing in the planet. All they knew about was Gyrus garden, which was a bit farther from the meeting hall, though an average citizen could get there within a matter of seconds.
Henry discovered a cave. It was conical and seemed like a palatial edifice. To his utmost surprise Henry had got a metallic door of unimaginable modernness. It glittered with the greatest splendor ever witnessed by Henry. Attracted by the structure, Henry’s curiosity was heightened. He was going to get inside by all means.

Henry pulled hard at the door handle to get it opened but nothing seemed to change. The door was standing as rigid as it was before the pull. Then it occurred to him that an entirely different method would pay off—but which one?
He felt that using the magic would provide the solution, but he’d never used it before.
“Using it for something worthwhile is reasonable,” he thought.

Naturally, but shockingly, some obscene words flowed out of his mouth in whispers. The door shook at the first and second attempt, but was wrenched open without a hand at the third attempt. The interior of the cave seemed to be two times the size of its exterior. But unfortunately, it was only opened for a period of one second before it was shut of its own accord again. But Henry had seen the inside already. It was empty and partially dark.

Still of the thought of what to do, the whole planet went dark suddenly and thunder struck concomitantly with accompanying lightning in a humongous amount. Henry fell. It seemed his fall had resulted from a struck by the lightning.

Still managing to get up, the whole planet appeared swirling at a great rate. That was all Henry saw due to the great kick he had just received from behind, from a thing he did not see as a result of the poorly lit environment at that time. The kick had sent him flying in the air and then fell with a heavy thud—blackout!

The creature, which had sent the kick, drew closer to Henry. It had the visage of a spider. It was almost twice as big as an elephant, but amazingly it spoke.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed the spider as it spun some webs at an inexplicable rate to trap Henry in. Awesomely, the webs were black.

“Henry. A boy whose destiny remains hidden to all—even himself,” the spider uttered noisily with a mixture of many different voices, almost ten times deeper than a bass tone of a normal human. Just then a swarm of insects made its way toward the Spider, but he got them swallowed up in a single gulp.

“Naughty little mosquitoes,” sounded the Spider as it picked Henry’s fallen mirror and made it stand facing the web Henry was trammeled by. Then the humongous ugly looking creature traipsed away into the rubbles it had initially come out from.

sammyLuvin:


Next meal is on fire and it will be dedicated to you. Thanks for following.

Thanks a lot sir, I'm with you all the way.

Ted woke from sleep at eleven-thirty pm. His uncle was fast asleep in a separate room. Ted walked furtively to his bathroom to pick up his mirror. He had intended to have a mirror communication with Henry as earlier agreed upon by the two, back in Gyrus, but he was not aware of the fact that Henry was still remaining in Gyrus then, captured. Ted, now with his mirror, gazed expectantly at the mirror and said, “Henry.” As Ted said so, its lustrous face became darker than it had been initially. Such happening sent a great fear down Ted’s spine, believing that such could only happen if the person at the other end was dead.
“Henry, speak to me,” Ted called again, but the mirror became darker even more. He remained in front of the mirror, some minutes, sweating, but nothing changed. Fear gripped him.
“No! No! No! This can’t be,” he wept in the middle of the night unwary of the fact that his sobs could jolt his dozing uncle, who was in another room, out of sleep. When Ted realized this fact, he bowed his head gently and tried to suppress the weeping. At last an idea hit him.
“Maybe it’s my mirror that needs replacement,” said Ted, though he had never witnessed a ‘mirror-replacement’ scenario before; he was not even sure of the existence of such envisaged event. To be sure of it, Ted felt that trying the mirror on another fellow would be the solution. Whatever case, by so doing, he was going to detect what had gone wrong.

At a single mention of Kim’s name the boy appeared. Sighting Kim had evoked a sudden loud sob from Ted, which was accompanied by some showers of tears.
“Coward!’ cried Kim, yawning somnolently into the cavity made by his right fist, “Why should you disturb my sleep?” Ted was afraid that his uncle could be awakened by Kim’s loud tone. He said rashly, “Ssh! Lower your voice, you’ll wake up everyone at home” demonstrating the abstract with two of his fingers placed across his mouth. The action angered Kim, but Ted’s uncle had heard Kim’s voice already. Willis Brown rushed impulsively to Ted’s room to confirm what he had heard. Ted hid the mirror under the pillow quick.
“Hey, Ted, who’s with you there?” said the man as he pushed the switch that was controlling the bulbs there. The room had acquired illumination in a flash.
“Nobody, I just had a terrible nightmare.”
“And somebody in your nightmare made such hell of noise, isn’t it?” Ted was confused, but he tried hard to maintain his composure.
“No, it was my voice. I screamed out of bed. It was a terrible nightmare,” lied Ted again.
The man shook his head sideways, grinned suspiciously and said, “Terrible nightmare indeed. You’ll come with me to see my pastor today. He’ll pray with you.”
Ted seeming to loathe prayers, responded immediately, “No need. It’s only a nightmare.”
The man sauntered to the door, pushed the switch again and off went the light. Then he left the room silently.
Ted was relieved. He tucked his hand under the pillow and took out the strange mirror, which had provided him with the illumination needed before his uncle’s arrival. He turned up the face of the mirror to behold Kim again. Startlingly, Kim had not vanished from there, but was snoring heavily inside the mirror having slept off while being ignored by Ted. Were it not for the absorbing character of the mattress and the pillow, Ted’s uncle would have detected the whole secret through the snores the mirror was making.
“Kim,” Ted called to wake him up, but there was no response. The only response that came was the sudden change in the pith of the snores from a lower to a higher note. Ted had to put his mouth very close to the ear of Kim’s virtual image in the mirror to repeat the call.
“Kim!” Ted shouted into the mirror and Kim’s heart missed a skip as he jerked up in a shocked manner. Kim vituperated at Ted as he complained about his aching left ear Ted had made the noise into.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you man? You want to damage my aching left ear. Mama still treated it before I sleep.”
“I never spoke into your left ear,” protested Ted. “It was the right one I spoke into.”
“Liar! You did,” Kim argued, almost shouting again.
“I didn’t,” rebuffed Ted ignorantly still. “It was the right ear I used.”
“Shut up! Liar!” Kim yelled at him and Ted kept silent at once, insinuating that his uncle would soon come around again.
Ted did not realize the lateral inversion problem of the mirror until the topic was changed, though he had been taught in all the schools he had attended about such kind of properties always exhibited by a plane mirror. The two blind debaters had concluded falsely that the other was a liar.
“So, what d’you want to say?”
“I’m sorry for the—”
“I said what d’you have to say, I’m longing for bed?” yelled Kim as if no one was at home at his own end.
“Well, I’d called to tell you to beware of Harrison.”
“Hold it!” he said. “I’ll send him to his early grave—tomorrow.”
“Kim you’d better be watchful ’cos Harrison’s seeking the assistance of the Power Guard, you know what that means?” Ted warned critically.
“And so what?”
“I suggest you report that to the Gyrus Magistrates before it gets out of hand.”
“Shut up! Don’t you know who I am? I’m a Mystery Maker. I can always perform a single trick on them both to get them confused.”
“Kim, please heed my warning before it gets late. Let’s report to the—”
“I said I’m not reporting to any goddamn person,” he yelled, even louder than the way he’d done previously that had attracted Ted’s uncle’s attention; this time the wearied man was fast asleep, so he did not show up.
“Alright! Alright! Goodbye,” said Ted as he began weeping afresh, but silently, at the remembrance of Henry.
“Wait a minute,” expressed Kim. “Is that why you’re shedding tears?”
“No—yes, I mean yes,” said Ted, swapping between the truth and a lie, like a Sphinx. Ted had told the lie for two purposes; to prevent Kim from asking further what the reason was and to also make Kim believe in and ponder gravely on the warning he had given him.
“Coward!” Kim pronounced and evaporated.

Ted had insinuated that Henry was dead since Kim did appear in his mirror while he did not. Ted was going to put forward a second trial by demanding to see Henry once again.
“Henry White,” he spat into his mirror, but no response followed still.
“Henry is dead!”

Henry was still unconscious inside the gigantic black web. The blackout had spanned for twenty-seven days already (just nine hours earth time). Opening his eyes in a flash, Henry noticed how rough and unkempt he was. The stench of his body was like the remains of a carcass half-eaten by a vulture. He had to squeeze his nose firmly to block his nostrils from paving way for the foul-smell to gain entrance into his olfactory nerves. Maggots scampered about on his bedraggled cloth as if they were happy about his predicament.
When Henry’s lips paved way impulsively for shock, he shut them back with great impulse, because a strong nauseating and pungent smell had instantly emanated from his teeth. It was a smell of rotten egg.
For a period of twenty-seven days since Henry had remained behind in Gyrus, no one visited the planet. The reason was undoubtedly because such great period in the Gyrus was only nine hours on earth.

Henry had forgotten what led into such condition—the thunder, the lightning, the quake, the kick. Touching his jowl, Henry could feel a spiky outgrowth piercing his hand. Withdrawing quickly he desired to take a look at his mirror at once, so that it would reveal the prickly things that had just injured his hand lightly. It was a surprise for Henry seeing his mirror outside the encapsulation of the web but standing erect and facing him. He knew there was no way the mirror would have stood that way of its own accord. Something or somebody must have been responsible for it.
Henry employed every mean he could to reach his mirror but was not able to get it, since it was far away from him and himself was inside a web posing a great deal of challenge to his mobility. Each strand of the web was as thick as the leg of a mature elephant. At last Henry decided to resort into the paranormal method. This he did without further ado by calling it with a strange language himself did not know how it had come upon him. Then the standing mirror moved closer to the web where his finger tips could touch it lightly. Using much ingenuity Henry managed to drag it in by putting out his hand from beneath the web forcefully and patiently.
To see his own image in it Henry had to rub its face with its palm (that was how the mirror could reveal the image of oneself) so that he could view the reflection of himself. What he saw looked to him as a hirsute bizarre person, having beards as long as two inches and a shaggy handlebar moustache, which seemed to make him even weirder. Henry almost crashed the mirror in horror. Eventually after much fixation of his eyes on the image he got to know that it was himself.
“How did I get here?” screamed Henry. “I must speak to Ted now.” With mirror on hand Henry seemed not to have any problem putting a ‘mirrortone’ call across to him (that was the name given to the mirror communication). Ted appeared instantly in the mirror.
“Henry, Henry you’re alive,” the boy frolicked in the middle of the night. It was the drive to look into the mirror that had jolted Ted out of his drenched bed, which had all the while been soaked in sweat and tears, because of the notion he had had that Henry was dead.
“Was I dead before?” asked Henry, having forgotten what had brought him into the situation he had just found himself in.
“No, not at—” Ted had to pause after taking a closer look at the one he was speaking with. “What is this?” he ululated. Just then the smells from Henry’s body were conveyed without any abatement to Ted’s nostrils and Ted had to quickly apply some deodorants into the room to lessen the nasty reek. It seemed the lack of synchronization between the smell and the visual display was brought about by something scientific, but Ted never had any thought inclined towards that direction then.
Henry said, “I’m the same Henry, your friend. I need an explanation concerning my predicament.” A maggot crawled around his lips. Henry flicked it away.
“How do I know?” replied Ted. “I called for you few minutes ago but all I saw was darkness. You didn’t appear in my mirror. Where were you and what happened to you?”
“The ambience here looks Gyrusic,” said Henry. “But Ted, I don’t know what the hell I’m looking for in here. I’m in a stronghold here,” bewailed Henry.
“Gyrus! I thought we left there together yesterday.”
“I don’t know. All I know is, I just found myself here, haggard, awkward and like a ragamuffin; got no inkling what’s my business here. Look, my beards, as long as a broom and my moustache, as wide as a dust parker. Can someone tell me what’s happening to me?” Henry screamed very loudly. Then Gyrus began to shake again.

Ted was scared that his uncle would be woken up by the sounds from the mirror, but he managed to neglect the fear to continue his conversation.
“Henry, Gyrus’s shaking, what’s happening? My mirror’s shaking me.”
“How do I know?” replied Henry whose look appeared even more bamboozled than Ted’s own.
“Henry, try to remember, myself and yourself were waiting for the dean, but he vanished suddenly. Maybe you stayed over in Gyrus after my departure.”
Henry’s brain seemed healed by the statement Ted had just finished making. Henry said with a little emotion of elation, “Now I remember Ted, but that should have been quite an age now, for these beards and moustache to have grown,” said Henry touching them and getting pricked by the spikes at every contact his hand was making with it.
Ted was glad now that Henry had finally remembered something. He said, “Yeah, Henry the mystery is solved. You just try converting nine hours here to Gyrus time and let’s see what it will yield.”
“I can’t,” replied Henry promptly to Ted’s amazement. “Not without the converter,” Henry added.
“Why? I thought your Einstein’s magic is effective. So—’’
“Not under pressure. It’s addled for God’s sake,” Henry vociferated with a more humungous tone of voice. Ted thought that for Willis Brown not to have woken up this time his sleep must have reached a stage of quietus; somebody Ted had known afore for thumping up from sleep at every single drop of any tiny object such as pin, needle and many more.
“Okay, I’ll get mine,” Ted assured, rushing to his locker to get his Gyrus converter. Turning his head back to the wooden edge of the bed where his mirror was leaning upon, he saw a big spider inside his mirror. Ted screamed for fear.