Chapter 21

"I want to get something straight, you're from the future?" asked Einstein in the most comic face ever. His voice was rising, despite how he was trying to lower it.

  "Yes, you've got to believe me—"

  "And then what? Is this some kind of a joke 'cause I have something very important for my wife today, I wouldn't want to miss that. You can see she's waiting. . .you might just want to wait till we're back. Go back home—"

  "Please, Professor," pleaded Anderson, "there is no home. Please, believe me. I'm serious when I said I landed with the aid of a time machine. . . although not on my feet—"

  "Nonsense! I shan't speak with you any further. And if you press on this, I'll have to call the police on you—"

  "But—"

  "Save it," he interjected, turning against him to the taxi.

  "Honey, anything the matter?" asked Marić, concerned.

  "Nothing too serious, the child's nut!" He slammed the door and ordered the taxi driver to move.

  "Wait!" Anderson called just as the driver had ignited the engines.

  All eyes dropped on Anderson. He was peering into the car.

  "How come it's just one woman sitting in this car?"

  Einstein's eyes were hot with fury, "I beg your pardon!"

  "No offense, Sir, but I learnt in history class that Albert Einstein married two wives in his lifetime. One of which was his childhood classmate—"

  "What?" Einstein asked more loosened now.

  "What's he talking about, honey?" asked Marić.

  Einstein remained silent. He knew he was planning on getting another wife that fall, or the following; and the fact that this boy could tell what had not even been discussed with his own wife was amazing.

  "She's my only wife," he later stuttered, "and she's my childhood classmate as well. But—" he said slowly, "you'd have to prove to me you're not a fraud."

  "I'm sorry to ruin whatever arrangement you had for your wife, but you have got to hear me out."

  Marić placed her hand on her husband's.

  "What year was I born?"

  Anderson smiled. That was a question he could answer from sleep.

  "You were born March 14, 1879."

  He and his wife exchanged glances.

  "Indeed it is, but the press speaks a lot these days—"

  "Well, Sir, you're the father of modern physics, and one of the greatest scientists ever to be conceived in a womb," Anderson continued. "And here's what the press doesn't know; Albert Einstein received a Nobel prize in Physics for his services to theoretical physics, and especially for his discovery of the law of the photoelectric effect. He died in the year 1955, on April 18."

  Everyone in the car stared at Anderson, mouth agape.

  "Did he. . .did you. . .?" the driver stuttered, unable to catch his breath. "Are you some kind of a prophet, Son?"

  "Did you just say my husband earned a Nobel prize?" Marić asked.

  "Yes, he did. In the year 1921—"

  "That's next year," said Einstein, fear in his voice.

  "Honey, can you explain what's happening here?"

  "And I died in 1955?" he asked, ignoring his wife.

  The weather began to change, signifying a heavy rain. It rattled silently from above, announcing its present.

  Anderson raised his eyes up to the sky. His eyes began to water. He pictured himself getting soaked inside out by the coming rain.

  "Please, Sir Albert Einstein — please!"

THEY LISTEN INTENTLY to Anderson as he explained the reason he went back in time, not omitting any detail at all. They were all seated in the large dining room of the Alberts; the taxi man, inclusive.

  At the moment, Anderson was done with the meal he was served, and he was concluding all he had been saying. He was about to say a word when a thunder rattled over their head amidst the storm outside.

  "Oh my!" exclaimed Marić. "How I do detest thunderstorms!"

  "It's not a thunderstorm, dear, it's just a thunderclap in a downpour—" Einstein interjected.

  "Whatever, professor!" said Marić with a warm smile which led all seated to burst into a round of laughter.

  Einstein turned to Anderson and said, "And by the way, Son, what is the reason you chose me?"

  "Huh, I don't understand you—"

  "I meant, why did you choose me to be a part of your solution?"

  Anderson smiled.

  "You're Albert Einstein the great. Billions of people in my time would give out everything just to be seated at your feet. You're the most intelligent person I can think of. In fact, your discovery of the law of photoelectric effect was pivotal in establishing quantum theory within physics! And can one—"

  Einstein came in between his words, "But how can I ever believe that those hypotheses I wrote in my jotter are one day going to be firm laws? I mean. . .I'm unsure—" he bowed his head, crestfallen, "sometimes I feel I should just give up."

  "Well, I'm disappointed!"

  All eyes turned to Anderson.

  "I've always know the Albert Einstein I read in books to be always confident and brave in himself not someone who gives up at a sight of failure."

  Anderson shaked his head and continued, "You know a quote that has always been my motivation?"

  They shaked their head in the negatives.

  "It's this, ‘We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.’ And guess who said those words. . .Albert Einstein! Look, Sir, I believe in you. It's what you taught me to — through your actions — it's why I'm here."

  Einstein raised his head, uprightly. Looking at each person before him, he said, "The lad is right, I've never believed in failure. In fact, this very day I say, a person who never made a mistake never tried anything new—" turning to Anderson he said, "I'll help you achieve part of your goal with what I can do."

  Einstein raised from his seat, and so did Anderson, thus. Before the former knew it, the latter threw him a big, warm hug that smelt of deep gratitude.

  Whispering in Einstein's ear, Anderson said, "I knew you'd help me; thank you so much—

  "But I've done nothing yet—"

  "In advance then, thank you."

  The two loosened from the embrace, and they all enjoyed the rest of the evening together, laughing and singing. And as sunset turned night, the taxi man was self-imposed to leave the gathering to head for his own home, thanking them for such hospitality. He was one who fancied a good story, so he promised to come again the following day, by evening.