Chapter 20

Einstein adjusted his black necktie for the third time after knotting it over and over to no avail. He cursed the stars for his folly of loosing the knot in its first place. Frustratedly, he pulled it off his neck and threw it away from him. He rolled his eyes over the hundreds of clothes in his large, German cabinet. His eyes were particular fixed on the hangers. It moved slowly, over the neatly hung clothes, till his eyes stopped on an hanger with lots of neckties.

  Stretching forward, he ran his hand, a little, over the ties, then reached for the hook of the hanger, pulling it out to properly observe what was hung.

  "I knew I should have listened to my butler about the pick of more black neckties to mixed coloured."

  His eyes stopped to a bow tie of just the colour he needed for the outfit.

  "Ah, and I thought I could avoid you for long."

  He raised the flap of his shirt collar up, placed the bold tie around his neck, hesitantly, then arranged it, muttering some uneven words to no one in particular.

  Done, he leased three fingers into the surface of his skull, after struggling through the heavy hair that sat on it. As he walked towards the mirror in the adjoining bathroom, he drew in some air into his lungs and was refreshed by the new perfume he'd sprayed; the one he had gotten from the new mall that had just been successfully built.

  He felt the need of urgency, and, then, he remembered that Marić took forever dressing up.

  Admiring his masculinity before the mirror, he caressed his thick mustache. He looked up at his hair and smiled, remembering quarrels that usually sprouted from Marić and his mother against him.

  "You're a reputable character, you have to learn to comb your hair!"

  "If you can't maintain that hair, Son, then pull it off!"

  He waved it off smiling gaily, and contemplated whether or not to pick the comb that stood just beside the standing mirror, on a drawer.

  "Honey! I'm ready!" he called out at the top of his voice.

  "Oh, I am too. Just trying to balance this shade on my left cheek," came the customary reply.

  He chuckled to himself.

  "My dramatic wife."

* * *

  Anderson felt his back hard against the earth. As he whined, he turned this way and that. Then, he felt a cold drop of liquid on his forehead. Just that one drop caused him to open his eyes, quickly.

  A dreadlock-shaded face hung over Andy's head, and bulky eyes ripped off whiteness. He had a smile on, ear to ear, exhibiting a rusty old, incomplete teeth set, and a significant, artificial tooth. In between this artificial tooth and another tooth hung a crump from a vegetable meal.

  "Nice watch you've got there," said the old man.

  "Where am I?"

  "Munich, damn fool!"

  "Munich? Can you be more precise, Sir, and can you get off me?!"

  The old man gave the lad an allowance to catch a breath.

  Anderson looked around as he pulled himself to sit uprightly.

  He turned his eyes back to the latter and saw that he was staring hard at his watch. He shaded his watch from him then struggled to raise himself up.

  He looked around himself and realised it was just him and the old man that were in the solitary dead end. Looking down at himself, he realised that he was still wearing the coat he wore to Nelson's house earlier that day. . .

  Then it struck him — he wasn't dreaming at all — he'd actually gone back in time. He slapped his head and said, "Oh, Germany."

  The latter nodded, one eye to Andy's wrist.

  "And where're you from?"

  "England."

  "England?! You bloody son of a bitch! I hate the British!"

  The old man smacked Anderson on a cheek and wanted to huddle off after snatching his Smart Watch — but unfortunately for this one, he just couldn't pull the watch off Andy's wrist.

  Andy pushed him aside at just a try, causing the old man to stagger backwards and fall to his back.

  "Curse ye!" cried the old man.

  Anderson smiled and walked out of the end till he got to an open street.

  His eyes did not fail to notice lots of buildings which had undergone renovation.

  "What must have happened here?" he asked himself. It was obviously not the Germany he'd envisioned himself to see.

  The street before his eyes was a very busy one. Men and women locked arms as they moved to and fro. He raised his head up and shaked it regretfully as he had to settle down with a truth; he was lost.

  "First things first," said he, "I'm lost." He dropped his head for a moment trying to figure out what next to do.

  An idea came to his mind.

  "I'm going to have to try the 'out loud questioning', my lovely formula. This always works out.

  "Where am I? Oh, that's simple, Germany.

  "What for? Umm. . .oh, to find Albert Einstein.

"How do I find him?" The question stole a moment from him. He then joked to himself about using a G****e map. Then it snapped on him; he had with him, still, the Smart Watch.

  "I hope this works," he muttered to himself, tapping on the screen of his watch. It had just as strong network as back his time, which was odd; especially in the twentieth century. Then another thought came in at the sight of an app.

"G****e Assistant, can you take me to Albert Einstein's house?"

  "Definitely," came the usual feminine voice.

  "I cannot for the life of me believe this!"

  The GA drew out a visible navigation for him with a very high dimension. He smiled.

  First step, move straight down from your left hand side.

* * *

  "Yes, yes, my dear. It is indeed a jolly good day," replied Einstein to Marić's complement about the summer whether. They locked arms as they slipped out of the house.

  "Honey, you've still not told me where we're headed. You know surprises gets my nerves to its peak—"

  "Just calm down, it's going to be just worth it."

  He flagged down a taxi; the man in it was a black.

  "Hey professor," hailed the taxi man. "Where are we headed today?"

  "It's a surprise for my wife," replied Einstein accompanied with a warm smile, exchanging glances with Marić. He could see she was uneasy because of the complexion of the man in the car, but his theory of relativity had taught him a lot. It was the main reason he was loved by all.

  "Ooh, love in the air," said the taxi man, grinding his engine.

  Einstein stooped low to the man and whispered the desired destination to his ears.

  The taxi man curved a smirk, and winked at Marić.

  "That's a yoppy doppy, man. Please hop in Sir and Ma'am for a lovely ride."

  "Thank you," came Einstein's reply while Marić hesitated as though she'd been given a fifty-fifty life slip.

  "Lady's first," he called on, letting her hop in through the parted door.

  Marić forced a smile, then turned inside, eyes fixed on the driver's, through the rear vision mirror.

  Just as Einstein was about stepping into the cab, he saw a teenage boy dressed in a fashion one could easily identity as non-german. His nose was pointed with a touch of nature that was unmistakably British. He was looking intensely at a funny kind of wristwatch that, until that day, he never thought had been invented. All of a sudden, the boy stopped, then he raised his eyes and hovered it about the taxi until they were fixed in Einstein's behind those glasses that rested on the boy's nose.

  "Oh my goodness! Is this. . .are you. . .you're Albert Einstein right?"

  Einstein nodded uneasily, although he was used to getting the identifying thing which added to the glory from fame, but something felt wrong to him about this. Deep down, he knew something was wrong. As he stepped inside the car, the boy seemed to be asking him to be excused for a moment or two.

  This surely couldn't spoil the moment, could it?