This is meant to be a little kids story and I wrote it in two days and never re-wrote it. (first excuse) I wrote this a while ago:) (second excuse) Beth told me to post this;)
Also it was written to amuse my little siblings when they were sick:) (third excuse)
The Chemist
It was a cold March night, the freezing wind was howling around and around the tall apartment building in Artanay, a principal city of France. The windows felt cold and icy when you touched the windowpanes. The building was a full fifty stories high, no fifty one, I forget, but it was the fiftieth story where little Nicole sat pressing her face against the window. “Mama, is the wind angry?” asked Nicole. “It is probably angry because of the crazy guy who moved in upstairs.” Jean teased his little sister.
“Now Jean, don’t scare your little sister and don’t call the professor crazy, he just has odd ways we must learn to put up with. No, Nicole, it just sounds that way.”
Jean made a face and finished drying the dishes.
Nicole looked at Jean, was he trying to scare her or was the man really crazy?
Upstairs was a small dirty room, with papers and lecture notes all over the floor. Dirt and dust gathered around the room like an army slowly over powering any thing that was ever clean or in any way pretty like the dry drooping flowers in the vase by the bed, which didn’t look like it had ever been slept in, from the dust piled on it.
Over in a corner, where the cobwebs had almost entirely hidden the wall, was a desk, glasses of unpromising liquid stood around the desk. In front of the desk on a chair sat an old looking man though he really was not above thirty his hair was messed up and disorderly. He was working intently carefully mixing and measuring some liquid substances together. “There!” he cried out. He yawned and carefully pouring the contents into seven tightly sealed containers he placed them into one of the drawers, [all except for one] and took a key out of his pocket, he locked the drawer and put the key back into his pocket. “Now for a test!” He took his guinea pig he had bought just for the purpose out of a cage in the corner that had a dirty dusty worn out blanket thrust over it. The guinea pig squealed loudly and he had some trouble keeping it quiet. Opening the bottle he had kept out of the drawer he measured a spoonful of his concoction into the guinea pig’s mouth. With a final squeal the guinea pig disappeared. “Well that’s that! It worked.” He set his alarm to wake him in a couple of hours then he lay down on the bed for a much needed rest.
The next morning he awoke by a knock on the door. He immediately got up wondered how he could have gone to sleep and looked out the window to see whom it was. He could see nobody so he opened the door.
There stood the skinniest man you’d ever seen [He’d seen him many times before!] “No wonder I didn’t see him through the window!” He thought.
He was, of course THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES. The Chemist knew him well from the many times he’d seen him at the board of trustees meetings he’d been to at the University of Artany where he was a professor of Chemistry.
Before he had done anything more than grunt at the MAN at the door another man came lumbering up the stairway in a business suit, huffing loudly. The Chemist had seen him many times too, for he was the secretary of the board of trustees, He was not very happy to see him either, but he gave another grunt and said “Good morning sirs”
“We have come on important business, Jean de St., Claire,” said THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES addressing him by his full name [the secretary of the board of trustees was still out of breath from his climb up the stairs to the fifty first story]
“ Come in then and tell me,” he said [Being just thirty he still had not forgotten his manners.]
“I will not! I will tell you my business!” THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES stormed at the idea [we must remember that being much older than thirty had quite forgotten his manners.]
“YOU! You were not at the last meeting of the board of the trustees. We came to find out why!”
He stepped away from the mad man as anyone would and said, “ I was conducting an important experiment.”
“You idiot! You Chemist!” THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES was in quite a rage now. The Chemist had already backed up to his desk. Suddenly THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES grabbed the secretary of the board of trustee’s walking stick and rushed into the room at him.
The Jean de St. Claire quickly unlocked the drawer. Inside the drawer were the six bottles of liquid he’d placed there last night. There were three bottles in red and three in yellow. He took a bottle of each color He measured a teaspoon of the red stuff and downed it.
THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES ran at him yelling I’ve got you Jean de St. Claire and lifted his stick to hit him, but the walking stick came down through the air and hit the ground giving him a nasty jar.
For Jean de St. Claire had vanished.
He ran to the drawer that had left open he opened the jar and measured the teaspoon of the red concoction and taking hold of the yellow jar as well he gulped it down and disappeared. The secretary of the board of trustees had been watching carefully and now, not wanting to be left alone lumbered as fast as he could across the room and taking the two remaining bottles took a teaspoon of the red liquid as he had seen the others do and vanished following the others to their fate.
The first thing our Chemist felt was the wind rushing around him. He looked about him and saw he was standing next a to a stall in a market place. It was very cold and the leaves of the big walnut tree nearby were waving frantically like banners flying in the wind. Below the tree to his surprise he saw the guinea pig that he’d experimented on last night. Down the dirt road came a wagon led by a poor old horse. The clip clop of the horse’s hoofs was suddenly drowned out by a commotion on the other side of the stall. The Chemist ran past the stall to see what it was. In the center of the square there stood a guillotine and a group of sad looking prisoners roped together. Blood lay all over the ground giving him a sickening feel. Then behind him he heard some one yell his name.
“Jean de St. Claire, I’ve got you at last!”
Turning away from the bloody scene he saw what he least expected to see: THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES [who’s legal name, the one he’d been born with was Nicolas DuPont] followed by the fat secretary of the board of trustees almost completely wiped out of breath [his name was Pierre Duval.] Nicolas DuPont angrily waving Pierre Duval’s walking stick in the air. The Chemist dashed around the corner knocking over a street vendor.
The street vendor yelled at him. Grabbing up a stick he chased after him. Luckily for the Chemist he hadn’t stopped a second and was now well ahead of the three wild men chasing him. Dashing around a sudden curve ran in front of a cart. The boy driving the cart cursed at him and seeing the street vendor yelling at the Chemist, offered his cart as a faster means of chase. By the time the vendor got in the cart, Nicolas DuPont had caught up and the boy finding out that he was also chasing the Chemist let him into the cart and away they drove. The boy whipped the horse, which set it at a gallop while the people on the road ran in every direction to get out of the way.
Nicolas DuPont stood up waving the walking stick in the air.
“Viva la republic!” shouted the fruit vendor. The boy and DuPont took up the chant. “Viva la republic! The traitor!”
Meanwhile Pierre Duval had just found his way to the street where he had last seen Nicolas DuPont. There he saw the boy, the fruit vendor and worst of all Nicolas DuPont waving Pierre’s walking stick [the one he had gotten for Christmas] in the air, and all of them in the cart with the horse galloping at horrendous rate. It looked like the cart might tip over at any moment, which would have made Pierre Duval quite happy because DuPont had deserted him. Pierre sat down, for by now he was quite tired out by all this running around. After running up fifty-one flights of stairs, then whisked over to some other place by some magical stuff or what ever it was. Running about town in this uncivilized manner and then being deserted [outrageous!]
And all this with out a rest, it was enough to make anyone worn out, unless of course, your name was Nicolas DuPont!
Jean de St. Clair had found out by now, he was in quite a predicament. Finding he had Precious little time he scrambled into an empty wagon. Then to his dismay he heard through the noise of the horse, the cart and the shouting, DuPont saying: “In the empty cart, I saw him!”
Our Chemist decided he couldn’t out run his pursuers. This time he really didn’t know what to do. The horse that went with the cart was unhitched and de St. Clair was not handy with knots. Then beyond all hopes a boy came towards him out of the crowd. He knew he had seen him before but he couldn’t think where.
The boy tied the horse to the cart and slapped the reigns against the horse’s back. He drove out of the street and onto a different street. Where do you want to go, Citizen de St. Clair?”
“Away from those rampaging mad men! Who are you anyway? I know I’ve seen you before.” Said the Chemist.
“I’m Jean Beaufort” Jean grinned.
“I am Jean de St. Claire,” said the Chemist.
“So we have the same name.” Said Jean.
“I know I have seen you before, but I can’t think where,” said the Chemist.
“Oh, I have seen you to, I live in the same apartment building you do, I live on the fiftieth floor,” said Jean.
“What? But how did you get here?”
Jean reached into his pocket and pulled out a little bottle filled with red liquid.
“I found it on your desk. I watched you, and the tall thin man and that fat man and you all drank some and disappear so I decided to follow and then I came here,” ended Jean.
Jean had been very curious about the Chemist ever since he had moved in. As soon as he had got the chance he went up stairs to watch him. That had been the morning after the Chemist had done the experiment. He had watched THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES and the secretary of the board of trustee talking with the Chemist and he had of course seen them drink the red stuff from the bottles, and being the boy he was, he took no second thought after seeing the bottle on the desk. Then he had come to the place where all the others had landed, and when the cart came by with Nicolas DuPont waving the walking stick in the air, Jean like every one else had gotten off the road as fast as they could. That was how he was able to rescue the Chemist.
Jean had turned the wagon into a side ally where they were hidden in the shadows. The cart went by, it was amazing how fast they went with out tipping over. THE CHAIR MAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES hair looked the worst it ever had looked and his coat flew behind him like wings. The fruit vendor had most forgotten why he was in this cart, but he was enjoying himself so he didn’t stop to think why, and the boy was having the time of his life and totally forgot the errand his master had sent him on. The three wild people had by now decided to stop at a tavern because they were having fun and had mostly forgotten the Chemist [except for DuPont].
However Pierre Duval was still abroad and, instead of helping the Chemist as you might hope he would, he brushed the dirt off his business coat, straightened out his hair, and cleaned his spectacles. Feeling it his duty to go make up with his friends he sauntered down the street in a most business like manner, trying to make it look as if he had some thing important to do, and for once he had.
He walked down the street where they had ridden, after a while he decided to sit down and rest for a second. He sat down on a stone right near the side ally where Jean and the Chemist were hiding.
“I guess we can go out now they are in the tavern,” said Jean.
Pierre Duval leaned forward to listen. “Aha, they are in the tavern,” thought Duval, “I will go tell them that Jean de St. Clair is hiding here with that scamp! They won’t leave such an intelligent person behind again, my brain is more useful then all theirs together. ‘The great detective: Pierre Duval’ I can see it already!”
Pierre got up and walked to the tavern to find his friends.
Pierre found them immediately “I have found them, the boy and Jean Beaufort!” said Pierre.
“Where have you found him?” asked DuPont.
“There in a side ally hiding from us”
“Let us find them quickly!” said the street vendor remembering his troubles.
The boy meanwhile had seen the bottles in DuPont’s jacket, and thinking it some perfume decided to take it to appease his master.
He had therefore taken it, and seeing some more in Duval’s pocket decided to take that, too.
“Lead the way, Pierre.”
Pierre led the way to where he last heard them and to his satisfaction as well as his friends they were still there.
“We’ve got you at last.” Said the fruit vendor. The boy had slipped away by now, along with his cart and horse.
Jean and the Chemist turned around and looked at each other. ”Will your bottled stuff take you anywhere else besides here?” asked Jean.
“Yes, quickly now, just take a little sip.”
Seeing that they were about to slip away from them again DuPont reached into his back pocket for his own and Duval did the same. When they realized it was gone the first thought that came into his head was to stop the Chemist from going. THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES and the secretary of the board of trustees and the fruit vendor all grabbed onto each other with the fruit vendor at one end and the Chemist at the other end, and in this way they all landed together in the market square of a medieval village.
The square was almost silent except the bird’s cry and some young boys playing in a side ally.
The Chemist was somehow able to struggle out of DuPont’s grasp and he ran off with Jean. “After him!” cried the enraged DuPont.
Again Duval came to their rescue [he had studied Medieval history in college] “Hue and Cry!” he yelled. Suddenly from out of all the houses and streets came people yelling ‘Hue and cry!’ Armed with sticks, rocks and pitchforks, the people came.
Jean and de St. Clair ran as fast as they could along the cobble stone street trying to get out of the way of the mob and hide some where so that they could disappear with the concoction and go back home.
Unfortunately the Mob made sure they did not have one second. They yelled and threw stones and rocks, they made such a noise that the birds joined in, calling everyone to the attention to the ‘miscreants’.
They had run into some fields now, dotted with haystacks. And behinds one of these they took a few seconds refuge from the flying stones.
“Quickly now,” said the Chemist “Here the yellow stuff.” Jean swallowed some and the Chemist grabbed onto his leg, but just then the fruit vendor saw them and not wanting to stay in this village forever he grabbed the Chemist’s legs and DuPont took a hold of him and Duval took hold of DuPont’s jacket.
They landed in the market stall where the fruit vendor’s stand first got knocked over. Jean opened the cover to take another sip from the yellow bottle and the fruit vendor thought quick and decided that he did not want to go into the future let go of the Chemists legs. That broke up the chain so that if DuPont had not had very long arms he would have had to spend the rest of his life at the time of the French revolution. But luckily for him he did have very long arms and was then transported back to the fifty-first story of an apartment building in Artany France. It was late afternoon and very cold, so that the tired CHAIRMAN OF BOARD OF TRUSTEES and the secretary of the board of trustees went home, and yes, Pierre did get back his Christmas present.
Jean Beaufort had tea with Jean de St. Clair and had the delightful experience of introducing the crazy man to the rest of his little sister and of course the rest of his family.
The two Jeans became life long friends and when Jean became older he went to the university of Artany and became a Chemist.
The End
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