Episode 20

The rain was beating down as the dark clouds rolled overhead. The ashen faced reporter glanced up at the sad stone of his long lost love.

“Oh Shirley. How I wish that I was with you now.”

He pulled the coat around his shoulders and scrambled up. It was only then that he noticed the missing hat.

“Oh please not another reality.”

“Thought I’d find you here mate.”

Ben swung around and saw Harris sauntering toward him.

“Are you really here?”

“Of course I am here. A mutual friend of ours needs our help.”

Ben ran forward and embraced the detective.

“Am I really glad to see you.”

He stepped back as the detective turned beetroot.

“Remember professor Xentoph?”

“As if I would forget.”

“He has been rushed to the psychiatric ward after collapsing at home.”

“Sorry for sounding rather callous, but how does that effect us?”

“The docs think that he has been injected with a drug to induce it.”

“Would that be Metox?”

“You know of it?”

“I did a piece last year for my paper. I am assuming of course that it still exists.”

“Last time I checked mate,” Harris replied. “I’m on my way to his home now. Fancy coming along?”

Ben turned back toward the sad stone and whispered, “See you later.”

Taking the arm of the officer, he accompanied him back to the parking lot as the downpour continued.

The professor lived just off Trinity Street, not too far from his crazy hall of followers. Just like many of the homes in this hamlet, the frontage was made from pinewood.

“Looks rather lovely,” Ben commented as the detective inserted the key.

When they entered the lounge, Ben marvelled at the rustic look. Coloured tiles covered the floor as a brown wallpaper gazed on impassively. The furniture was cheaply made and the small table looked cracked on top.

“You better check the bedroom,” Harris suggested as he sniffed around the living area.

“If you wish.”

Ben wandered through the rear door and found the bedroom easily.
After the neatness of the lounge, he was shocked at the dishevelled bedclothes strewn across the floor.

“Something most definitely fishy about this lot.”

He knelt down and began rummaging through the material. Though what he hoped to find is anyone’s guess.

“How are you doing?” Harris called out.

“Not too bad mate. Ah...”

His fingers had found something hard hidden amongst the folds and he freed it quickly with mounting curiosity.

“Would you believe a money box?”

He placed it upon the empty bed as Harris strutted inside.

“Is that all?”

Ben looked peeved by the suggestion.

“It was well hidden mate. That indicates the professor wanted it unfound.”

Harris picked it up and tried to open it.

“The damn thing is sealed. Though I cannot see how.”

“Let me have a go then.”

Harris handed it over and Ben inspected the silver base.

“I think you press this.”

When he did so, the top fell off and the contents landed upon the mattress.

“What do we have here I wonder,” the detective muttered.

Ben pulled off the loose paper and below that lay a dollar bill. He was surprised to see a dog whistle lying to the right.

“He does not own a dog,” the reporter said.

The detective picked it up and began wondering.

“It must be significant. Otherwise why hide it?”

“Can we get into his hut?”

“I have the key to that. You have an idea?”

“Let’s just say the germ of one.”

Due to the short distance, the friends chose to walk. It was not too long before they entered Larkman Road.

“What do you expect to find?” Harris asked as they reached the meeting hall.

“Not too sure mate. Let me have that dog whistle.”

They passed by the small desk and strode inside the small hall of the ‘time society.’ Ben blew the silent whistle as Harris glanced
around. When a small hatch slid open from the rear wall the reporter grinned.

“Typical scientist.”

He placed the whistle inside his pocket and wandered over to the hidden locker. Reaching inside he found a thick leather pouch.

“I don’t think it’s going to be valuable,” he muttered pulling it free.

Harris watched as Ben opened the pouch carefully only to reveal a thick wad of typed sheets.

“Whatever did he hide that for?”

Ben glanced at the detective and began scanning the pages.

“It’s a manuscript. He was obviously working upon it.”

He read quickly, his face become sterner by the moment.

“Whatever is up with you?” Harris asked.

“I don’t know how but this details our time together. You better have a look.”

The detective took the wad and began his own scan.

“He mentions the smallpox threat, the Ebola emergency and some kind of robot in the graveyard.”

He stopped at the reference.

“I don’t remember that.”

Ben looked grim.

“The problem is mate that I do. The ruddy plastic explosive was under the bunks.”

“Now you have lost me.”

“When I arrived at the cemetery I was wearing a hat. Now it is gone.”

“So you lost it,” Harris suggested.

“I truly wish it was that simple. We need to see this professor at once.”

Despite the questions, the reporter kept his secret well as they drove into the hospital car park.

“The psychiatric ward is at the rear,” Harris pointed out.

“I should warn you now that even I don’t know how this lot will finish.”

“I wish that you would make sense.”

“It will become clear shortly. Now just park up.”

The detective found a slot and the friends stepped out and headed for the reception area.

“Detective Harris mam. We are here to see professor Xentoph.”

“I’ll inform security and they can take you sir.”

“We could find our own way,” Ben suggested.

“He is in the secure unit sir,” the woman informed him. “You know, a padded cell.”

The guard appeared and led them onto the second floor where the secure unit was located. As they stared at the door, it was unlocked.

“He is not violent,” the guard said merrily. “l will just wait out here.”

Harris entered first and was shocked at the bound figure.

“He does not need a straightjacket.”

“It is the rules sir.”

Ben took the manuscript and knelt beside the seated old gent. His body slowly rocked back and forth, as he muttered to himself.

“Do you know who we are?” Ben asked gently.

The professor stopped rocking and stared back.

“I seem to recognise you.”

“Who injected the drug professor?” Harris asked.

“Drug? What drug?”

Ben glanced up at his old friend.

“Do you mind? He was never injected.”

“That is news to me Ben. How come he is like that?”

“It’s inside this,” the reporter muttered.

“I don’t understand,” the detective said.

“Give me your pen mate.”

When he received it, Ben turned to the last page. He crossed out the word guard and pointed.

“Look who’s gone.”

Harris turned and noted the missing chap.

“Probably wandered off.”

“You are pretty dim for a detective,” Ben commented handing the pen back.

“I deal with reality. As you used to once.”

Ben ignored this criticism and turned back towards the patient.

“Professor. Tell me why?”

The blank expression cleared and the elderly man mumbled, “To liven up my miserable life.”

Ben nodded and slowly stood.

“Will someone please explain what is really going on here?”

Harris shook his head sadly and led the puzzled detective back into the empty corridor.

“What I have to reveal is rather nasty I’m afraid.”

“At this point I’ll believe anything.”

“Our dear friend is not a professor at all.”

Harris raised his eyebrows.

“I checked him out. He has a whole list of letters after his name.”

Ben smiled and indicated the manuscript.

“It’s all make believe my friend. Want to know what he said to me?”

“Probably not.”

“You exist in my reality. Therefore, you have not entered another.”

Obviously, the detective had still not worked it out.

“He created this reality my friend. You and I. This whole god damn town.”

“I think that you have lost a screw mate.”

“Don’t be absurd Harris! It’s the only possible conclusion. We have only been puppets of a truly tortured mind.”

“You sound as crazy as he is,” Harris protested.

Ben glared at him before saying, “This puppet has no intention of playing any longer. It’s time to get off the bus.”

Harris watched his friend tear the manuscript up and drop the fragments upon the floor.

“It’s over Harris. Over for good.”
...
Within a padded cell, an elderly madman sat alone within his padded cell. His tortured mind had dreamt of a better life. His tortured mind had dared to create a new reality. That reality had sprung to life for a short space of time.

Sadly however, that time had past...

“Hi...I’m Ben...Please leave a message after the tone.”

Beep...