CHAPTER 2
After not hearing from Louis for a few days and with Louis’ house being on the way to the pub anyway, James decided to call by. He jumped up the few short steps that led to the front door and gave it a healthy knock, smiling as he did so at the scratched Yale lock that had suffered many drunken key insertions.
He waited.
No answer.
Another knock and a wait.
Still nothing.
He was just about to knock again, when the door swung open to reveal a very pale, unshaven, tired looking Louis.
James tutted a teasing tutt. ‘Are you still hungover, you look like shit.’
Louis turned round and headed off towards the stairs. ‘Come in.’ He said almost as an after thought.
‘You all right Lou? I’ve been ringing you for the past three days.’
‘Um.’ Said Louis as he trudged up the stairs.
James followed him. ‘I had the day off work myself after Tuesday night, I told them I had a stomach bug. Did you ring in?’
‘Um.’
Louis ambled his way into the spare bedroom. James followed him inside and was amazed at what he saw. Plonked in the middle of the room was a P.C. on its screen was playing what seemed to be, a DVD of Back To The Future. Above that, anchored to the ceiling was a huge pub style projector, wires hung from it connecting it to the computer and directly ahead of everything was Back To The Future playing in its full splendour, covering entirely, the newly white-washed, back wall of the bedroom.
‘Fucking Hell.’ Said James.
‘Um.’ Said Louis.
‘Where did you get all this stuff from? It must have cost a fortune.’
‘I’m going through James.’ The voice was flat and toneless.
‘Eh?’
Louis was staring trance-like at the opening credits of Back To The Future. ‘I’m going through the screen.’ He said without blinking. ‘I want you to witness it.’
James laughed.
Louis didn’t.
James stopped laughing. ‘Lou?’
Louis kept his glazed eyed stare fixed on the screen. ‘It’s all about belief James, I know there’s a universe out there that mirrors this film exactly. For the last three days I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept; I haven’t even spoken until now. My mind is tuned into that universe and also into God, who is everything and he is going to help me walk right into that screen and out, into Back To The Future.’ He stopped the DVD and cued it back to the beginning. I’ve picked the start of this movie for my first jump through, there’s a good two minutes of Doc Browns’ empty room before Marty comes in, which is good, no one around to get freaked out when I appear. This will be just a test run, I’m going to walk through, have a quick look round and then get back before Marty sees me. Now please be quiet, I need to slip back into my meditation.’ He closed his eyes and began to breathe slowly and deeply. He took a few steps backwards and stood against the wall opposite the screen. ‘When I say now, press play.’
James was more than a little taken back by all this. He knew Louis was a bit on the mad side, but this was absolutely barking. He really believes this is going to work, James thought to himself, what am I going to do? Who should I tell? His mother will be heart broken. ‘O.K. Lou,’ he tried to say evenly, ‘whatever, yeah, sure.’
The room became silent.
Time passed. The computer blinked, the projector projected and the DVD was paused but ready for action.
Louis opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He straightened his shoulders; focused on the screen and then said, ‘press play.’
James scurried over to the computer, his palms all sweaty with nervous concern for his friend. He clicked on the play icon and the screen jumped into life.
Doc Browns’ house, the clocks ticking, the Television screen blinking on – to reveal a newsreader, the toaster burning toast.
Louis began to walk forwards, each step slow and deliberate. James felt himself sweating all over, the tension was quite horrible and it was making him feel sick. Louis was now only one footstep away from the screen. He stopped and stood there, staring ahead, body perfectly still. He took another deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again they seemed to be staring not at the screen, but into it, through it.
James felt that he might shit himself at any moment.
Louis began the final step. He raised his heel from the floor, swung his leg upwards and using all of his mental and physical energy, strode forwards.
Suddenly the room was filled with a mighty cracking sound.
Louis had hit his head against the wall.
‘Ouch!’ He said.
‘Thank God!’ Said James.
Louis tried again. Bang, ‘Ouch!’
‘Lou.’ Said James.
Bang. ‘Ouch!’ Said Louis.
‘Lou, stop it.’
Bang. ‘Ouch!’
‘Lou!’ James shouted, ‘Stop it!’
Louis stopped it.
James ran over. ‘Are you all right?’
Louis turned around; the glazyness had gone from his eyes. ‘I’m starving.’ He said.
McDonald’s was the perfect cure, followed closely by a pint of lager, or two, or whatever.
‘Ah that tastes good.’ Gargled Louis after a healthy glug. ‘Three days without a drink. Three days!’
James still hadn’t fully recovered from the afternoons madness, ‘that was scary what you did there Lou, I thought you’d really lost it this time.’
‘I know James, I’m sorry it was stupid. But you know I thought it was going to work. I did.’
‘I know you did Lou, in fact you almost had me convinced.’
‘Ah well,’ said Louis, ‘At least I’ve got a fantastic entertainment system now.’ He swished his lager inside his glass and finished it, ‘Anyway, there’s always plan B.’
James laughed, and then noticing Louis’ seriousness, matched it.
‘What?’ He said.
‘Come on James, I can’t leave it there.’
‘Where?’ James could feel the sickliness creeping back.
‘All I need now is a little bit of help from a certain somebody to get me all the way.’
‘Help!’ James was scared; angry; frustrated and worst of all sober. ‘Louis have you heard yourself, come on snap out of it, otherwise you really will need help.’
‘I’m serious James, calm down, don’t worry, I’ve got it all planned out.’
James had turned a funny shade of grey and was shaking slightly, ‘All planned out.’ He groaned. ‘I’m getting a whisky, do you want a whisky?’ He charged off to the bar and returned very quickly with two large whiskeys.
‘OK Lou, whose help is it that you need?’
Louis gave the answer plainly and as if it was obvious, ‘Harry Houdini.’
‘Harry Houdini!’ James repeated, mocking Louis manner, ‘Of course how obvious!’ He sighed heavily, ‘Louis; listen to me, there is a special place for people like you, please don’t make me be the one who has to put you there.’
‘James, you listen to me, in the film, The Last Action Hero, it was Harry Houdini that gave the projectionist the magic ticket.’
‘And?’
‘Well, I did some research into Houdini’s life. Did you know that right up to his death Houdini was always trying to perform the perfect séance, he disproved loads of fakes whilst searching for a true medium.’
James drank down a good measure of his whisky, ‘And?’ He wheezed.
‘He died on Halloween night, a very magical night and guess how old he was?’
James shook his head slowly.
‘Fifty-Two!’
‘So?’
‘Fifty-Two!’ Louis stressed, ‘There’s Fifty-Two cards in a pack. He was a magician!’
James knocked back the rest of his whisky. ‘I see.’ He rasped.
‘That’s not all,’ ranted on Louis, ‘When he died, he was exactly twenty-six years either side of the turn of the century. His life was cut in half by the new century, just like a pack of cards.’
‘Hmmm.’ James could feel the warmth of the whisky creeping into his brain. ‘Do you want your whisky?’
‘But the thing is,’ continued Louis, ‘Houdini promised his wife, before he died, that he would try to contact her from the grave. So, every Halloween night, every year, for ten years after his death, Houdini’s’ wife held a séance in the hope of contacting him.’
‘And did she?’
‘No.’
James took Louis’ whisky and drank from it.
‘But, after she gave up, a group of magicians took over and they have been holding a séance every year, right up to this present time.’
‘And have they contacted him?’
‘No.’
James tipped more of the whisky into his mouth.
‘But we can. We can contact him, and then ask him how we can get our hands on those magic tickets.’
‘What…’ James started and then shook his head to make sure he’d heard right. At last he said, ‘I’ve had enough.’ He banged the whisky glass down on the table and stood up, ‘I’m going, you’re mad, talk your weird shit to someone else, you stupid nutter!’
Louis watched his friend get up and begin to storm off. He let him get half way across the bar and then he burst into a fit of hysterics.
James hung there exasperated; he shook his head like a despairing mother. ‘What’s so funny, you loon?’
Louis broke into another fit of laughter and pointed at his distressed friend. ‘I’m winding you up you idiot. Look at your face.’
James came marching back, he slapped a hand to his chest and took a big breath of air, ‘You twat!’ He let out. He gave his head quite a few disproving shakes before allowing himself to see the funny side of it. ‘You twat!’ He said again.
‘Well, I had considered the plan at first,’ said Louis trying to fight back the hiccups, ‘but I thought it might be a bit of a long shot.’
‘Bit of a long shot, that’s the worst idea you’ve had since you believed that Dr Do little was based on a real person.’
Louis and James laughed the rest of the evening away. They recounted crazy stories, stupid plans and mad ideas from their past. During that night however when a quiet moment broke, or a toilet interval arose, Louis’ mind was dwelling upon plan C: such a massive undertaking was plan C that he dared not tell James about it through fear that his friend might have him committed. If his theories about the universe were correct, which he was certain they were, then this plan would definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, work. So grand was the scale of this plan that it would take, he reckoned, at least nine months of hard toil before it would be ready.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ® COPYRIGHT 2003 © A TIME MACHINE OUT OF A DeLOREAN ?
