Teacher's Kid

Written by Anakin McFly

April 1895
Hill Valley, California

Class was over. For once, Verne Brown didn’t bother to wait for his mother as he joined the other students filing out of the classroom. He just wanted to be home. To be away from it all. Away form the classmates who always seemed to derive such fun from the fact that his mother was his teacher. ‘Teacher’s Kid,’ they called him. And away from those other classmates who kept referring to him as the ‘guy with the crazy father’.

Somehow, his brother did not get it as bad. Jules actually seemed to be enjoying life. He had friends, and was one of the more popular ones in the class. Verne, on the other hand, was the one who was always seen sitting quietly at the back of the room. Clara had begun to notice something. But he knew that no one would ever understand how he felt.

Verne arrived home. He headed straight to the bookshelf and pulled out a book. Reaching his hand into the space behind, he felt for the knob he knew was there and turned it. The bookshelf swung open to reveal the secret room.

He entered as he had done so many times before. Switching on the computer, he pushed himself around on the swivel chair waiting for the PC to boot and reflecting on the misfortunes of life.

Firstly, there was the lack of freedom to do the things he enjoyed, such as computer games, watching TV, playing on his Playstation 10 and his beloved Gameboy. All that had to be confined to the secret room where he was now, which had its windows painted over so that no one else would know about the existence of a roomful of stuff that had not yet been invented. The room that ran on electricity produced by a generator his father had created.

And then, of course, was the train in the backyard. The flying train. The flying, time traveling train. People had begun to notice the way-too-colourful vehicle behind the Brown house. None besides its owners knew what it could do, though.

The computer was on. Verne inserted the Red Alert 3 disk into the CPU and waited. A small screen popped up. He clicked on ‘play’ and waited for the game to load. Verne sighed.

He didn’t see why he had to live here. In this place. In this time. He knew he didn’t belong, somehow, unlike the rest of his family who seemed to fit perfectly. Verne didn’t understand why he couldn’t have a normal life like everyone else he knew.

For one, he didn’t have a normal birthday. 26th December. Just the day and the month. The year wasn’t fixed. It all depended on what time period they happened to be in. Currently, he was about 11 years old. He couldn’t know for sure. No one was keeping count. And the date was nothing to go by.

Red Alert 3 finished loading and the main menu appeared, supported with music in the background. Verne moved the cursor over ‘Single Player’ and clicked. Of course, Multiplayer was out of the question. The Internet didn’t even exist yet. And they didn’t own a LAN. He wanted one. Maybe for his next birthday, whenever that was.

He clicked on ‘Skirmish’ and then got round to choosing a map. He settled on one of the urban ones. He liked them. They reminded him of a time that had not yet come. A time he wanted to belong to.

“Username?” the screen prompted.

Verne hesitated for a moment, and then typed in, ‘Teacher’s Kid’, more out of bitterness than anything. That’s what everyone called him, anyway. He selected the nation he’d be using and then clicked ‘Start’ and waited.

And that was another thing. He was the only one in his whole class who knew how to type. He had seen things most of them never would. He knew people from so many different decades. Others would probably think him lucky. But Verne felt far from lucky.

The game was taking forever to load and the background music was getting irritating.

Just then, the family pet Einstein the dog entered.

“Hi Einy!” Verne greeted, as the animal lay down by his feet and gazed lovingly at his master through his hair-covered eyes, tongue dangling as usual.

For a while, Verne allowed himself to smile.

“There has to be a way out of this, “ he thought, staring wistfully at the painted windows. One day, when he was older, he was going. He was taking the time machine and leaving this place. This time.

“Someday, Einy. Someday,” Verne muttered, stroking the dog’s fur as it panted.

“He’s on the computer again!” he heard Jules yell from somewhere outside.

“Someday.”

And the game started.

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