Subj: Theodore
Date: 3/15/00 7:14:29 PM Central Standard Time
From: Marcos1
1880--Collinsport Maine
~~~
Theodore Stokes petted his cat. The cat was named Plutarch for the ancient writer. He was sitting in a chair, cat in lap, surrounded by bookcase after bookcase of books. He turns and looks up, as though he just heard something.
"Hello, hello, my friend, welcome to my home," Theodore says smiling. "You are from the future...I presume, March 15, 2000...a very good year. I bet you wonder how I know about you. Well, I practice the black arts. A form of sorcery. Nothing too fancy...just your basic incantations. I know the future very well."
The wind outside was howling. There was a snow storm. The sky was dark. The ground was covered by snow. There was a fire burning in the hearth. The wood crackles and breaks, sparks fly into the air like tiny fire flies. It felt warm and cozy in the cottage.
"Eliot Stokes, yes, I know of him. He will be my grandson." He lights a cigar. "Yes, the future is an open book, for those able to see." There is a knock on the door. "Who might this be?" He looks out of the front window. Pulling the curtains back. "Why it's young master Quentin."
The little boy stood in the doorway shivering. "Uncle Teddy, I had to come...." He was wearing a thick coat, his face bruised, his upper lip bleeding. He glanced over at you. "Oh, you have company."
"Just a visitor from the future," Theodore said. "A mere astral presence, a very friendly one." He bites on his cigar. "Quentin what has happened to you? Fighting with your older brother again, ah?"
"Edward is a bully!" Quentin replied. His nose was running. You offer him your handkerchief. "Thank you." His eyes widen. "Are you from the far future; where people fly about in little boxes and travel through time?"
"No," Theodore said, "Our visitor is from the first year of the 21th century. A very enterprising person, rather ahead of one's time."
"Oh," Quentin says, with a slightly downcast look. "I was so looking forward to meeting the Martians."
"Shhh," Theodore says quietly, "We mustn't be rude to our guest.
"Sorry," Quentin said. "Anyway, Uncle Teddy...can we do magic tonight? Please..."
He looks at you. "Do you mind? I'm teaching the boy a little of the dark arts." You nod. Theodore laughs, a rich hearty guffaw. "Thank you for being so understanding. After all, I've read the boy's cards, and he is to have a rather long life. Very long in fact. He might needs some magical skills."
"How long will I live, Uncle Teddy?" Quentin asked.
"You will fly around in a little box and travel through time," Theodore replied.
"And meet the Martians?" Quentin asked, jumping up and down.
"Yes, and more, much more," Theodore replied. "Now, shall we begin."
To be continued