The Old Man in the Garage

A young girl helps an old professor work on a summer project in his garage.

Sophie was an inquisitive child. She was rarely ever able to ‘do as she was told,’ especially if something interested her more than following orders.

One early summer afternoon she noticed an old man working in the garage next door. Of course, her mother had told her to stay in her own yard, never talk to strangers, and to mind her own business and not spy on people. Generally, what her mother told her was very wise. Of course, she didn’t know the old man, but she did know she could get into trouble, and could be hurt – or worse – if she didn’t follow her mother’s instructions.

Nevertheless, it was just a matter of time before her curiosity got the better of her and she just had to know what the old man was up to. Carefully she hid from the old man’s view and slowly worked her way over to his garage window. She tried her best to stay out of sight and sneak little glimpses of what he was doing. He seemed very attentive to his work, so much so that Sophie was convinced he didn’t notice her.

The old man may not have noticed her, but Sophie’s mother did. Just as quietly as Sophie – maybe even more quietly – she crept up on her, and just when Sophie was about to take another peek at the old man, she whispered in her ear, “What did I say about spying on people?” This startled Sophie, and she gasped loudly – a little too loudly.

Well, the old man must have heard this, and in practically no time, he was standing right next to Sophie and her Mom. “May I help you, ladies?” he asked.

Sophie’s mother stood up, very embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I told my daughter not to spy on people. I…I hope she wasn’t bothering you.”

“Not until now. As long as she was being quiet, I hardly noticed her,” said the old man.

Now, it was Sophie’s turn to be surprised. She was sure she had hidden herself perfectly.

“I’m sorry for snooping, sir.”

“Apology accepted,” said the old man.

“What are you building?” Sophie couldn’t help but ask.

“Sophie!” her mother tried to stop her.

“It’s all right,” said the old man, “it’s just a time machine.” He winked at Sophie.

Sophie’s Mom thought the old man was joking or perhaps not in his right mind. But otherwise he seemed normal and in good spirits. “Oh… Well, that’s good to know,” she replied casually, as if to humor him.

“Can I stay and watch?” asked Sophie.

Before her mother could interrupt, the old man said, “You mean, may I stay?”

“May I stay and watch?” Sophie rephrased her question.

“OK, if you’re quiet and you sit over there out of harm’s way. The old man pointed to a spot by the window. And, please allow me to introduce myself. My Name Is Matthew. So…you are Sophie. And I take it this is your mother, Mrs. —?”

“Murray,” Anna Murray.” Said Sophie’s mother.

“I’m pleased to meet you both,” replied the old man.

Sophie’s mother noticed the spot the old man had pointed to was clearly visible from her kitchen, so presently she felt better about things and told Sophie to “stay out of the way” and to “be home in time for supper.”

So, Sophie watched the old man work for hours, and hardly said anything, except to ask a question from time to time. The old man answered politely, as best he could, being careful not to talk down to the little girl. He noticed how smart she was and wanted to be sure to explain things as clearly as possible, without automatically saying, “you wouldn’t understand.” He had always hated it when some grown-up said this to him and he wasn’t about to say it to Sophie.

When her mother called her for dinner, Sophie thanked the old man. “Don’t mention it,” he said, “you ask good questions. You’ve got potential.”

“Can I…? I mean, May I, come and watch again tomorrow?” she asked.

“You may come anytime, Sophie. It’s OK with me… if it’s OK with your Mom,” said the old man.

It took some talking for Sophie to convince her mother to let her go and see the old man the next day, but by bedtime she agreed. She knew the old man had lived there quite a while, and although she didn’t know much about him – he was a retired college professor or something – it seemed to her that he wasn’t going to hurt Sophie. Besides, she thought before long Sophie was likely to get bored with whatever the old man was working on and just go play with her friends.

So, Sophie went to watch the old man the next day, and for many days after that. In time, she learned the ‘old man’ was really a retired physics Professor, Dr. Matthew Campbell, whose wife of 42 years had died the year before. She also learned he was an inventor who came up with ideas and had built many things. They would talk as he worked, and she would listen to him tell stories about his wife, his students, his time at the university, and what he thought of this or that subject.

For the first two weeks Sophie thought the Professor was kidding her about the ‘time machine’ he said he was building. But as his project took shape, she began to think it could be real. He told her about something called, ‘quantum mechanics,’ but she said she didn’t understand. “That’s alright,” he said, “a wise physicist once told me if anybody claims to understand quantum physics, they are probably lying.”

Sophie laughed out loud at this.

By the end of the second week, Sophie began helping the Professor. He taught her about ‘shop safety.’ He had her bring him tools or parts, and sometimes ‘hold this steady’ for him. He was always careful not to put her in danger or have her carry or hold something that was too heavy for her. One time he stopped her from trying to pick up a tool that was ‘too sharp’ because ‘you might cut yourself.’ She began to understand a little more of what the Professor was talking about. Sophie also began to like him very much and couldn’t wait for the next time she could come to his ‘shop’ and help him.

After she had helped the Professor in his ‘shop’ for a few days, Sophie asked him, “Professor, you must have had a lot of experiences in your life. Which one was the most unusual?”

The Three-Foot Woman and the Six-Foot Dog

“Well, I don’t know if this was my most unusual experience, but maybe you’ll find it unusual. At least it doesn’t happen every day. Long before you were born, Sophie, my wife and I were taking a walk with our dog and I, or possibly my dog, I’m not sure which, decided to turn down a street we had not visited before. As we walked along, we heard a single loud “bark,” louder and lower than any we had ever heard before. Since we were all curious, and our dog, Sancho, was tugging his leash in the general direction of the bark, we crossed the street to investigate. We passed a few houses and saw an incredible sight. In the driveway of the house was the biggest dog we had ever seen!

The dog stood at least 6 feet tall. We would later learn the dog was 6-feet, six-inches from the top of his head to the ground. He looked like a Rottweiler mixed with a Setter but was of course much taller. He had an enormous head with large sensitive eyes. I asked my wife to hold Sancho, so I could go and have a closer look.

The Six-Foot Dog turned to face me. Now, I always considered myself to be “good with dogs,” so I wasn’t too worried. But, the look on the dog’s face told me not to come too close. I understood I was in the dog’s territory now, so I shouldn’t go too far. I spoke softly to the giant animal, “It’s alright big guy, I’m friendly…not going to hurt you.” I figured the dog would have charged already if he were dangerous. The dog just stood his ground, cocked his head, and stared inquisitively me.

I remembered I was over six-feet tall, so I sat down. I wanted to show the dog I was not a threat. The dog slowly walked towards me. The next thing I knew, I was being sniffed by a nose the size of my palm. All I could do was sit motionless and silent.

“What are you trying to do with my dog?” I heard a woman call out.

“Well…I was just curious,” I replied, “I wanted to get a closer look.”

She asked, “Is that close enough for you?”

At that point the dog was drooling on my head.

“I think so,” I said, “I didn’t mean any harm.”

“It’s OK, Oscar,” the woman called to the dog, “Let the nice man pet you if he wants to.”

I reached out and gave “Oscar” a friendly ear rub. Oscar nosed me and almost knocked me over.

I said, “I’m going to stand up now, Oscar. Just a moment.”

That’s when I learned the giant dog and I could look each other square in the eye.

“You are beautiful! I hope we can be friends,” I said to Oscar.

“Thanks…oh, you mean Oscar. Well, he seems to like you,” the woman laughed and said, “Hi, I’m Shirley.”

She reached out to shake my hand. Now that I was standing, I noticed she was about 3½ feet tall. The giant in her driveway, her gentle guardian, was almost twice her height.

“Hello, Shirley. It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “My name is Matthew. I teach at the University.”

Shirley said, “Nice to meet you, Matthew…Come here, Oscar. Sit.”

The dog went to Shirley’s side and sat, still staring at me.

“May I have my wife bring Sancho over to meet Oscar?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Shirley answered, “Is your dog aggressive?”

“Not usually,” I said.

Shirley gave Oscar a tender pat on the side. “Neither is Oscar, as you can tell. If he were aggressive, he would have bitten your head off…right Oscar?”

“You know, I banked on the fact large breeds are generally more laid back than small breeds,” I said, keeping an eye on Oscar.

Shirley replied, “Yeah, that’s mostly true, but it helps I raised him from puppyhood not to attack anything smaller than him, which is most things.”

My wife, Cynthia, soon appeared, and introductions were made. The dogs were introducing each other in typical dog fashion, with a lot of sniffing and circling. In a minute or two, I called Sancho to sit near me.

I asked, “So…Shirley…how…I mean where did you get Oscar?”

She said, “There was another Professor, in the Biology Department, who was doing research into growth hormones, with the intention of helping people of shorter stature, like me, grow to a more typical height. Maybe you’ve heard of him. Professor Clarendon?”

I replied, “Yes. I didn’t know him well. We met at a few functions. I’m in Physics – you know how university departments all do their own thing. I heard he died in a car accident last year.”

“Yeah, about six months ago.” Shirley said, “Oscar was beside himself at first, so I took him to my brother’s farm in the country. We’ve only been back a few days. Maybe something about you reminds Oscar of Professor Clarendon.”

I said, “It’s possible,” then I turned towards Oscar, “I’m just glad you didn’t eat me, big guy.”

Changing the subject, Shirley confessed, “It seems you understand him better than anyone else who has met him so far. Sancho is a pretty big guy himself. How much does he weigh?”

“About 100 pounds,” I said.

“Well,” Shirley told me, “Oscar weighs over 300 pounds and probably has three times the strength of any large breed out there,” Shirley said, “The trouble is most people are afraid of him.”

I told her, “I can understand that. But if they took a little time to get to know him…”

Shirley said, “I know…they would see he’s not only friendly, but harmless, unless someone attacks me, of course. He is pretty much my self-appointed protector, meaning…well, on my brother’s farm a ram charged me, and Oscar picked it up and tossed it aside…didn’t hurt it though…that was one surprised ram!”

I laughed, “I would have liked to see that!”

“Seriously, Matthew,” Shirley said, “I’m being sued by the neighborhood association. If I lose, either Oscar must go or we both must, because I’m not getting rid of him.”

I asked, “Can’t you move to your brother’s place?”

She said, “Not really. Same problem there. The neighbors think Oscar might hurt their kids or their livestock. Even though my brother told them about the ram, they just don’t trust a dog this big.”

I asked her, “What can you do?”

She said, “I’m going to fight this in court.”

I offered my help and told her I’d be glad to testify as I stroked Oscar’s shoulders. The dog leaned towards me and clearly enjoyed the attention. He moaned with pleasure.

“You sure know how to make friends,” Shirley observed.

To which my wife replied with a wink, “If only he would pay that kind of attention to me!”

“I know what you mean,” said Shirley, “boys and their dogs…”

Since the court date was fast approaching, Shirley was busy putting together photos and videos of Oscar as a puppy, his training, and his growth into a good-natured, obedient companion. People had made fun of Shirley her whole life because she was so small. And now some wanted to take Oscar away because he was so tall. I just can’t understand why some people are so mean and hateful towards people who are not like them. Why did people want to make Shirley feel even smaller? Even though she is only 3½ feet tall, Shirley has a heart as big as all outdoors and loves “all creatures, great and small,” as the saying goes. And you know, I’ve met some truly vicious dogs Oscar could have eaten with a single bite, if he had a mean bone in his body.

Then I had an idea. What if Shirley and I took Oscar for a walk, downtown, with a lot of people around? We could show everyone he was not a brute, just a big, brown, beautiful puppy? By that time, I had stopped by to see Shirley and Oscar nearly every day. I got to know them and marveled at Shirley’s ability to work with her massive friend. He had his own bedroom in her house, with a Queen-sized bed just for him. He had his own spot at the table – a table cut-down a little for Shirley, but perfect for the placement of his dishes, so he didn’t need to stoop down to the floor to eat. The two were quite a pair. Both were beautiful souls in bodies that didn’t fit – at least they didn’t fit what other people wanted them to be.

Shirley thought my idea was worth a try. The neighborhood association seemed to have the law on its side. Any animal judged to be a danger to people in the neighborhood would have to go. So, we set out to prove the neighborhood association wrong.

The next day was bright and sunny. It was a perfect day to show off Oscar, to let him meet people, especially all the children he could, to show he was friendly and obedient. Things were going well, as we had expected, until something set Oscar off. He barked ferociously and neither of us could hold him back. He charged at top speed, which for him was twice as fast as a Greyhound because of his size. He ran across a busy intersection. What we didn’t see at first was a small child who had broken free of his mother and run out into the street. His Mom froze as a large delivery van was about to hit her little boy. Apparently, Oscar saw what was happening and leapt in front of the truck grabbing the little boy by his shirt and pushing him toward his Mom. The truck driver slammed on his brakes, but he couldn’t stop in time. He plowed into Oscar and knocked him to the ground. Poor Oscar just lay there motionless.

We caught up with Oscar in time to see everything. Shirley put her arms around his huge neck, sobbing and trying to soothe her unconscious companion. She whispered in his ear, “Oh, Oscar, don’t leave me, you big hairball…”

The mother clutched her son, “He’s OK,” she declared to anyone listening.

By then a crowd had gathered. The Mom came over to see Oscar. “My God, what is that?”

“He’s just a very big puppy,” I said.

The Mom called 911 for an ambulance and walked towards us. She said, “I’m Patty Ginsburg. I’m a lawyer and so is my husband Jim. I’m going to see that you have all the care you need for…what’s his name?”

“Oscar,” Shirley replied, “I’m Shirley.”

Then Patty surprised us, “Well, Shirley, you have an amazing dog. Oscar saved my son’s life. I’ll pay for everything. If there is anything else I can do…”

“Mrs. Ginsburg,” Shirley interrupted, “I’m being sued by my neighborhood association to get rid of Oscar.”

All Patty said was, “We’ll see about that,” and “Please, call me Patty.”

In a few minutes, the ambulance arrived and fortunately the driver was willing to take Oscar, the hero dog, to the Veterinarian. He even helped us put him on the gurney. After he recovered, Oscar became a celebrity all over town, and Shirley often took him on long walks. They stopped by to see Sam, the boy he rescued, and many other children as well. Everyone loved Oscar, except the grumpy neighbor who started the lawsuit. I saw Oscar regularly. But sadly, his size meant he would not live more than 7 years or so, but Shirley made sure those years were wonderful. Shirley and I keep in touch and still tell stories about Oscar. All of this shows me we can’t judge anyone based on their appearance.

________________________________

The next week, Sophie asked the Professor whether he invented anything before he started working on the time machine.

The Disintegrator Ray

“About the time you were born, Sophie, I was working on a project at the university. I was studying the nature of matter – particularly the “glue” that holds the tiny building blocks of matter, called atoms, together. Generally, scientists think certain forces are at work inside atoms, and I was experimenting with what could be done to disturb or block these forces. If you’ve never heard of them, they are like the static electricity that attracts your hair to a comb on a dry day. Since these forces are electrical, I thought if we could somehow cancel them out or change their direction, the particles that make up matter would fall apart.

After years of research, a lot of calculations, computer models, and experiments, I was on the verge of a discovery. This project had been a big part my life, and so far, I had not succeeded. One Saturday morning I went into the lab to try my experiment one more time. I placed a tiny grain of pure salt, much smaller than the size of a pinhead, on a little target platform, ready to be hit by a beam of electrical energy. This beam was set to certain frequencies – now, ‘frequency’ is just shorthand for how fast something vibrates. To sound a high note on a piano the string vibrates much faster than for a low note. (Sophie seemed to be taking everything in.) For this experiment, I was using a special combination of frequencies much higher than that, and these weren’t sound waves, but electrical waves. I had calculated this set of frequencies would be very close to the resonance points of the salt molecule. ‘Resonance points’ is just a more precise way of saying the maximum frequencies of vibration of a system.

Now, Sophie, you must promise to keep the rest of what I’m about to tell you a secret, OK? (Sophie nodded.) Good. Well…if my calculations were correct, like a building or a bridge falls apart during an earthquake, the molecules of salt would disintegrate, meaning ‘to fall apart,’ when the beam hit the sample. I switched on the beam and waited. There was no effect. I felt a little angry at myself – either my numbers were off or the whole idea might be wrong. I felt I had wasted 20 years of my life.

Have you ever felt angry at yourself, Sophie? Well, I was so upset, before I switched the beam off, I pounded my fist on the lab table, and shouted, “why won’t this darn thing work?” The table shook, and the beam flickered for a split-second, then it changed just a little. My little outburst must have adjusted a couple of settings just enough to…well, in a few seconds the salt sample disintegrated, but in doing so it released a lot of energy and with a flash not only disintegrated the sample, but also the test rig and all the furniture at that end of the lab! It would have disintegrated me too, if I hadn’t been standing in just the right place wearing a protective suit and goggles!

Fortunately, I had been recording the events on my computer, which was in the next room and was not harmed by the flash of energy. Unfortunately, I had just invented a way to trigger the release of a massive amount of energy from a tiny amount of matter. I had wanted the sample to fall apart, like a dandelion floating off into the air, but when the beam reversed the electrical forces holding the atoms together, they flew apart much more violently than I expected. I had made a disintegrating ray – a weapon out of science fiction comic books!

Well, I was so shaken, I closed the lab for the rest of the day and went home. I had a lot of thinking to do. I thought about what happened, how dangerous it was, and how lucky I was to be alive. “What if that beam was pointed at a person?” I asked myself, “What if a bigger version of that beam was pointed at a whole building, or a whole city block, or a whole city?” I began to be very afraid. I was afraid others would use my work to build weapons to wage wars. I was afraid my work could one day cause the deaths of many innocent people.

I asked myself, just because I can do a thing like this, should I? Just because I’ve invented a thing, do I have to use it, or let others use it?” My parents always asked me questions like, “Just because you can steal a cookie from the jar, should you?” and “Just because you can cheat on a test, should you?” and “Just because everybody else is doing something, should you do it too?” and “Just because you feel angry or sad, does that mean you should take it out on yourself or other people?” These kinds of questions gave me a lot to think about. If my invention was used by people who felt angry at other people, it could hurt or kill many. My parents taught me never to hurt someone or do something that might cause someone to be hurt. After a lot of thought, I knew what I had to do.

On Sunday, I went back to the lab and cleaned up the mess as best I could. I rearranged the lab, so it looked like my beam generator burned out. I erased all my computer files and hid my notes in my basement. I didn’t want my work to be the start of a new weapon. There were already too many weapons in the world. I thought there might be a way to use my research for another purpose in the future, like energy production, or maybe even time travel, but that would take another 10, 15, or 20 years to investigate. Until then, I thought it best not to share my notes with anyone. Too many people never stop to think about how being able to do a thing does not necessarily mean they should do it. On Monday morning, my graduate assistant was disappointed to learn I would not be continuing my research in this area, but I told him I felt certain I would think of another project. The next day, I began to think more about the nature of time. And here we are.”

______________________________

Sophie told her Mom all about what they were working on, except for the part about the disintegrator ray, but her Mom didn’t understand; not even a little. Sophie’s mother thought the two of them were playing a game, talking about quantum physics, time displacement, field equations, and so on. “Maybe the old man could help Sophie with her math in the fall,” she thought.

Sometime later, Sophie, always the inquisitive child, asked the professor if he made any inventions that did as he expected. He told her this story.

The Happiness Hat

“One day, a few years ago, a friend of mine, Professor Anderson, came to my office. He was curious about an effect he had measured with an FMRI machine, which means Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging. Most people call this a ‘brain scan,’ but this is only part of the story. Well, Professor Anderson told me he was able to see changes in blood flow in the brains of his test subjects as they responded to images that caused pleasure or displeasure. Certain areas of the brain ‘lit up’ when a picture made the subject feel happy, and other areas ‘lit up’ when a picture was disgusting in some way. For example, a picture of a child playing with puppies caused pleasure, while a picture of dead deer on a highway caused displeasure. He wanted to know my opinion on how electrical fields affected the brain.

I told my friend since the brain is a hive of electrical activity, it might be possible for a low-level electrical field to change a person’s mood, or feelings. He asked if I thought it might also be possible to produce a reaction in the same areas of the brain that showed pleasure or displeasure in his study. I told him that would depend on the accuracy of his brain map and our ability to measure tiny changes in the electrical field inside the brain.

Professor Anderson said he wanted to develop a way to help people who were trying to cope with cigarette, drug, or alcohol addictions. “Maybe,” he said, “if we can come up with a harmless way for people to experience a little pleasure for a limited amount of time each day, they could find the strength to break their addictions.”

Now, you can’t use any metal inside an MRI machine because of its high magnetic field, so we set out to use Professor Anderson’s imaging data to discover what changes in the field might be necessary to reproduce the effect of the pleasurable pictures without actually using pictures. To make a long story short, after many months of analyzing the data, we found it wouldn’t take much of a change in an outside electrical field to possibly change a person’s mood. And we found if the changes were tiny and focused in the right way there would be virtually no risk to the person. So, we built a little electronic hat – Anderson called it, ‘the Happiness Hat’ – to test our hypothesis. Anderson insisted he must be the first person to try it. I insisted I must be there to help him.

We decided to repeat the conditions of the tests he had already run, so he could get an impression of what it was like to have a mild feeling of pleasure or displeasure. After we completed his slide-show, he put on the ‘hat’ and suggested I switch it on. I said, “OK, but I’m just going to do so for 3 seconds. If you feel any pain or discomfort, say so, or wave your arms, and I’ll switch it off.” We were also monitoring his breathing and heart rate, just in case.

So, I turned the ‘hat’ on for 3 seconds. Anderson smiled.

“Well, what did you feel?” I asked him.

Professor Anderson said, “That was amazing. For 3 seconds, I felt what I can only describe as bliss. It was like all the pain or discomfort or disgust or anger or frustration in my mind simply melted away. I don’t know any other way to describe it. The feeling must be experienced to be understood. Would you like to give it a try?”

“OK, but only for 3 seconds,” I replied, “I don’t want to scramble my brain.”

So, I tried it too…

“What was it like?” Sophie broke in, wide-eyed.

“It was just as Anderson described. Bliss. No pain, no worries, only a sense of well-being, you might say, ‘peace.’ That day we tried the ‘hat’ on each other for times up to one minute. Each time we used it we felt the same thing – a sense of happiness, bliss, peace. We joked with each other. I said, ‘Wow, what a fantastic way to unwind after a long day at the office!’ Anderson and I believed our ‘hat’ could be used to treat patients for addictions. We thought our search for a harmless way to allow a person to ‘chill out,’ as they say, was a success. Of course, there would have to be much more testing to make sure it was safe, to learn to program it correctly, and so on, but we thought in time a patient could safely use it to calm down without smoking, taking drugs, or getting drunk. Anderson thought we were going to make a fortune.

We went out to celebrate. After dinner Anderson pointed out the ‘hat’ was even better than the bottle of wine we shared. I never saw a man so excited. I suggested maybe he was happier at that moment than either of us had been trying out the ‘hat,’ but he didn’t seem so sure. I also told him I believed we must stop trying the ‘hat’ for now and get help studying its effects. “Maybe you’re right,” he chuckled. We shook hands and went home.

The next day, I went to Anderson’s office, where we had been testing the ‘hat.’ I knocked several times. His secretary told me she hadn’t seen him all morning. On a whim, I tried his office door. It was open. Inside we found Anderson, wearing the ‘hat’ and sitting motionless in his chair. He was staring out the window with a blissful smile on his face. I noticed the ‘hat’ was still switched on. I immediately switched it off and asked Miss Sprague to call 911. We needed to get poor Professor Anderson to the hospital right away!

From the notes on Anderson’s desk, it looked like he came to work early and tried increasing his time wearing the ‘hat’ – 2-3-5-10-15-20-30-45 minutes – this last time, he had the timer set for 3 hours! I could only guess he wanted more and more of the feeling he got when the ‘hat’ was switched on. At some point, I think he became unable to resist the desire to try more. If his notes were any indication, the longer he was ‘under the influence’ of the “hat,’ the more impaired his judgement became. In a few hours, my friend had become as dependent on the ‘hat’ as some people do after months of cigarettes, alcohol, or drugs. The ‘happiness hat’ turned out to be just as addictive!

I told the doctors what Anderson had done and what we were working on. He was sedated for a couple of days and seen by a neurologist, Dr. Connelly, who knew him from their days in college. Connelly ordered an MRI and found there was no permanent damage to Anderson’s brain, although he told me he believed it was fortunate I called on him. “There’s no way we could know what might have happened if Anderson had used the ‘hat’ for a longer time,” he told me.

When Anderson got out of the hospital, Dr. Connelly ordered that he must have no alcohol or any unnecessary pain-killing drugs for at least a year. We agreed to stop further tests of ‘the happiness hat,’ and turn over our notes to a major research center for analysis. As it should be, no further trials of the ‘hat’ will take place until the FDA approves them. The good news is my friend is OK. The bad news is the FDA may take many more years to approve clinical trials. Nevertheless, among many other things, I learned as bad as addictions to cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs are, the root cause is in a person’s mind.

Our desire for pleasure, escape, or just peace and quiet, can lead us to destroy ourselves if we are not careful. I had no idea Anderson would react that way to the ‘happiness hat.’ And that’s the point, Sophie. You don’t know how you or anyone else will react to cigarettes, alcohol, or drugs. That fact alone should be enough to make us stay away from these things, or at least be extremely careful with them. I only have a little wine now and then with dinner and won’t take a drug unless a doctor tells me to. There is a quote by the great American writer Ralph Waldo Emerson: ‘Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not.’ The same is true of happiness. You can’t find it in a drink, a drug, or something you smoke – even in an electronic hat. You must find it inside or create it yourself. No person or thing can give it to you or make it for you.”

________________________________

After several weeks, the Professor told Sophie it was time to test the time machine. “It’s not going to be a big test,” he said, “just a little time jump to see whether we’re on the right track.”

He had two watches, set precisely to the same time, one to run outside the machine, the other to remain inside what he called the “Time Displacement Chamber, or TDC,” for short. He gave one to Sophie. “When I switch on the power, the watch in the chamber will be displaced backwards in time by one minute,” he said, “it will disappear when the machine cycles on, then after a period of 20 seconds the machine will cycle off and the watch will reappear. When it does, we should see an additional 1 minute and 20 seconds on that watch. Here, please put on these goggles and stand back!”

Sophie did as she was told.

Sophie couldn’t believe what happened. When the power was turned on, the machine charged for 20 seconds, there was a flash, the watch disappeared, and 20 seconds later there was another flash and it reappeared.  When they looked at the watch, it showed 1 minute more than the watch in her hand, on which only 20 seconds had passed since the first flash.

“Was that some kind of magic trick, just to fool me?” Sophie demanded.

“No, Sophie, I wouldn’t do that to you,” said the Professor, “the watch in the TDC looped back in time by one minute when the machine cycled on. Because it never left the chamber, it reappeared in our timeline when the machine cycled off. Now, if someone were to leave the TDC, they would continue in the new timeline and we would never see them again. It is imperative an object or person be back in the TDC in time for the moment the machine cycles off in our timeline.”

“That sounds complicated,” said Sophie, but after some thinking it started to make sense to her.

But Sophie still wondered about it. She wanted to believe the Professor, but maybe this was all for fun, and the old man didn’t know what he was talking about. She decided to ask a few questions to humor him.

“How far back in time can we send something?” asked Sophie.

“So far, only about an hour, but that would probably destroy the machine because it would take an awful lot of power,” he said, “I wouldn’t set it to more than 30 or 40 minutes to be on the safe side.”

She decided to push him a little harder. “Well, how do you set the time?”

“You see this dial? All we need to do is turn it to a number between 1 minute and 60 minutes, switch on the power, and stand back. Whatever is in the TDC will be sent back in time by that number of minutes. But we must be careful. There is the question of changing the future of everything else. If it’s just a watch, there is no problem, but anything that might change the future could be very dangerous.”

“Why?” asked Sophie.

“Well, suppose someone went back in time and did something to change what had already happened? For example, if your Mom came over to bring us lemonade, as she did yesterday, a time traveler could keep that from happening, or could see to it we got iced tea instead. That would be harmless enough. Or if you fell off your bike, a time traveler could go back in time and make sure that didn’t happen. But what if you needed to fall off your bike so you would be inspired to invent a safer bike someday? The trouble is there are a lot of terrible things a time traveler could do to the timeline if he knew what was about to happen. He, or she, could make the future a pretty bad place for a lot of people.”

“So, time travelers need to be very careful.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself. And remember, if a time traveler leaves the TDC, or doesn’t make it back in time for the moment the machine cycles off, they will be trapped in their new timeline. But if all goes well they will appear to return 20 seconds after they left.” The Professor paused, and added gravely, “Sophie, there is one more thing, and it’s even more dangerous.”

“What is that?” Sophie asked.

“Well…Sophie…there is the problem of a time paradox. That’s when a time traveler makes a change to the timeline preventing him or her from traveling in the first place. The most obvious example is to go back in time to make yourself rich or save a loved one – if you’re successful, you would have no reason to go back in time in the first place and might cease to exist when the time machine cycled off. You’ve heard of the expression, ‘meeting yourself coming and going’?”

“I’ve heard my Mom say that when she’s having a busy day.”

“It takes on new meaning for time travelers. If you go back in time and meet yourself, there is great danger that either you will cease to exist or the past you and the time-traveling you will loop forever. The quantum dynamics of this are unknown. If a traveler meets his former self, the outcome is almost impossible to determine.”

“That sounds scary. I guess I would want to be as clever as I could if that happened to me.”

“That makes two of us,” the Professor smiled.

Changing the subject, Sophie asked the Professor what gave him the idea for the time machine. It was always easy to get the professor to talk about old times.

The See-through Machine

“Well, Sophie, when I was a boy, you could order something called ‘X-Ray Glasses’ through the mail. A lot of magazines had ads for them. My friends and I ordered some, and guess what? They never worked. I also grew up reading comic books and imagining how Superman used his ‘X-Ray vision’ to see what the bad guys were up to. But later, after I studied science and understood more about X-Rays, I discovered there was no way a pair of cardboard and cellophane glasses could give you X-Ray vision. And I learned even if Superman had X-Ray vision, the strength of the X-Rays needed to “see-through” a wall would be dangerous to anybody standing on the other side of the wall! You see, Sophie, X-Rays can cause damage to the cells in our bodies. If they’re too strong or we are exposed too long, we can get cancer, or worse. That’s why doctors and dentists use low-intensity X-Ray machines that only take a fraction of a second to take a picture. It’s relatively safe to have dental X-Ray pictures taken every couple of years, but even so, the dentist puts a lead-lined cover over you and then hides behind a barrier. Just think how many times they need to use the X-Ray machine. You’d hide behind a barrier too!

So, I started to think about how to take a picture of something through a wall without hurting anyone behind the wall. My friend, Dr. Shick, said I should just use sound, like an ultrasound machine. These machines use very high frequency sound waves – much higher than even bats can hear – to make an image by measuring the time it takes to bounce off an object, like an internal organ, or an unborn baby. Chances are, your mother’s first pictures of you were taken with an ultrasound machine. Speaking of bats, this is the way they ‘see’ in the dark. They make a high-frequency noise and listen for the sound waves to bounce off trees, walls, buildings, and their prey. So, Dr. Shick thought something like SONAR – SO for sound, N for navigation, A for and, R for Ranging – was the best option for seeing through walls. I didn’t choose to go this route, but his suggestion gave me other ideas.

A few years ago, before I retired, I thought some more about my ‘disintegrator.’ Remember what we were saying about quantum mechanics? I thought I might be able to modify my ‘death-ray’ to send out an energy beam of the right type to make a wall look transparent, hence the name, ‘see-through.’ I didn’t want the wall to fall apart, just take on the properties of a substance like glass or plastic.  So, I found my old notes and went to work modifying my energy beam.

After a lot of tests, I began to get a clear image on my screen. As I fine-tuned the beam, an 8-inch thick concrete wall began to look like a screen door, and I could see the chair I placed behind it. But, I noticed something odd. Now, to understand what was so odd, you need to know that any computer takes a certain amount of time to process information. One day, I set-up a moving target behind the wall. It was just a little toy monkey crashing his cymbals. I also made a reference video in real-time, for comparison. I ran a standard video camera located outside the area covered by the beam and synchronized the feed from that camera to my beam image. The odd thing was even after I accounted for processing time differences, the video I made with the ‘see-through’ machine always showed events happening a little before the real-time recorder. I aligned the time code and repeated the experiment many times, but there was always a tiny difference. At first, I couldn’t see it on the screen, but it was there, and the more I increased the power of the beam, the greater the difference. It was as if the ‘see-through’ machine was looking at the recent past, at what had already happened. At maximum power, the machine showed what happened one second ago, while the reference camera remained unaffected. The images should have been in sync, but they were not. This was the discovery behind the time machine: if I could see the past, maybe I could send something or someone to visit the past.

I worked for many months on the ‘see-through’ machine, increasing the power a little at a time, and finding ways to focus the energy better. After a lot of work rebuilding the machine and making change after change, I figured I could look 10 minutes into the past. Now to test it, I called my graduate assistant and told him to do something between 9 and 10 minutes before I turned the machine on, like throw a ball or roll an office chair behind the wall, anything that I might observe later with the ‘see-through’ machine. I told him not to tell me what to look for. Then after I arrived and switched on the beam, we would observe what he did in the past. The result was amazing. We could watch him bounce a basketball through the frame, toss a big stuffed bear in the chair, or pour a glass of water, or any of several other scenes 9½ minutes after he did them. We were very excited.

After about two years, we were able to make the machine see an hour into the past. Sometimes it was interesting to watch people who walked through the area behind the wall, unaware we could see into the past and then tell them exactly what they were doing 45 or 50 minutes ago. What if we could make the ‘see-through’ machine see years, decades, or centuries into the past? We might at last be able to see Washington crossing the Delaware or Lincoln giving the Gettysburg Address. We might even learn who shot President Kennedy. But, that would take enough electricity to power a major city for several years! What if the police thought a crime was committed in a certain location? Someday we might be able to look back in time and witness the crime, but even that would take much more power and fine-tuning of the ‘see-through’ machine. So, for now, we must be content to see only a few hours.

It’s the same with the time machine. To transport anything big, like a person, back very far in time would take a tremendous amount of power and it would cost a lot of money to build a machine big enough. Maybe someday this can happen, but not in my lifetime or yours I’m sure. Another problem is even if we can send a person back in time, they will continue to age normally. For example, if I went back to see my wife one more time, I could die before her. Some things are not meant to be changed.

One thing I’ve learned from all these projects is this: everything is related. For example, matter, energy, time, brain activity, sound, indeed everything we know, has to do with waves. Maybe the universe itself is one big wave, lasting for billions or even trillions of years. And you and I are just riding on one miniscule part of it trying to understand the rest. A brilliant thinker named Buckminster Fuller – he probably wouldn’t mind if you called him, ‘Bucky’ – once said, “Truth is a relationship.” If we can understand the relationships between things, we can figure out how they work. And if we can figure out how they work, we can use our knowledge to help others in some way.”

______________________________

Sophie had grown to love the Professor. He was always very kind to her and tried his best to take her seriously. She liked him because he treated her like a grown-up. But still, she doubted the Professor’s ability to send things back in time. She thought it was impossible, just an old man’s dream, or maybe just a way to have a little fun with his new friend.

Near the end of the summer, her thinking would change.

One morning, Sophie opened the door to the Professor’s garage and found him on the floor clutching his chest. He was in a lot of pain and could hardly breathe. She rushed to his side. He managed to hand her his phone, “Call 9-1-1,” he moaned. By the time she dialed the phone, he had stopped breathing, and when the operator asked her to check his pulse, his heart had already stopped. The Professor was dead.

As she held back tears, she remembered what the Professor told her about the time dial and the power. Quickly, she set the time to 40, flipped the power switch, and as the machine charged she quickly squeezed herself into the time displacement chamber. She had to sit down and wrap her arms around her knees to fit. “Now I’ll find out whether this thing really works,” she sighed, “if it’s just a trick, nothing will change, but if it’s not, maybe I can save the Professor.”

She closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, the Professor was standing next to the time machine with his hand on his left arm. He looked like he was in pain.

“Give me your phone!” she shouted, “you’re having a heart attack!”

“I thought so…here,” the Professor sank to the floor, “how did you get into the time ma…?”

Sophie dialed 9-1-1 and told them to hurry. She kept an eye on her watch. Let’s see, she thought. 2 minutes for the call. Then 21 minutes for the ambulance to arrive. Only 17 minutes until the time machine cycled off. As the ambulance pulled up to the garage, time-traveling Sophie noticed another Sophie – herself – peeking through the window. At first, she tried to hide her face, but then realized she absolutely had to explain what was happening to, well…herself. ‘Why do I always have to be so inquisitive?’ she asked herself. Then, she thought a little harder. ‘Think quick!’ she told herself. Of course, she would have been curious about an ambulance pulling up to the Professor’s house – ‘why didn’t I think of that before?’ It was a novice time-traveler’s mistake. Sophie looked for a way to contact…Sophie. As the EMTs rushed to the Professor and placed him on the gurney, she slipped out the side door. Out of earshot of everyone else, time-traveling Sophie opened her mouth to speak.

Pre-time-traveling Sophie spoke first, “It works!” she shouted in a loud whisper.

“Yes, it does,” time-traveling Sophie replied, also in a whisper, “when I, that is…when you arrived…about 16 minutes from now, the Professor was having a major heart attack and died right there, on the floor. I…I mean you decided to start up the time machine. We both know what that means. You must be in the time machine by the time it cycles on. That will give me less than 20 seconds to get in before it cycles off. Or else we both might cease to exist. They agreed pre-time-traveling Sophie should remain hidden until just before 9:12, which was when she switched on the time machine. Time-traveling Sophie had made a mental note of the start time, just as she had when she and the Professor experimented with the watch. Then, after the machine cycled on, time-traveling Sophie would quickly get in and wait for it to cycle off and time would return to normal. All they had to do was wait for the ambulance to leave, close the garage door, and carry out their plan.

Time-traveling Sophie returned to the ambulance crew. Less than 9 minutes left. They had stabilized the Professor and were moving him into the ambulance.

“What’s that thing?” the ambulance driver asked, pointing to the time machine.

“It’s just an experiment the Professor was running,” time-traveling Sophie replied.

“Shouldn’t we unplug it or something?”

“NO! —I mean, not yet. The Professor wants it to run a little longer. He told me to turn it off at exactly 9:12. I promised him I would do it.” She reached out and grasped the Professor’s hand. “I’ll take care of everything, Professor.”

“Thank you, Sophie,” the Professor murmured.

“OK, then,” the ambulance driver agreed.

Sophie looked at her watch. 3 minutes left. Time-traveling Sophie and pre-time-traveling Sophie were both getting very nervous. At last the ambulance pulled away and Sophie closed the garage door. Less than 1 minute to go. Time-traveling Sophie called out for ‘Sophie’ to get into the TDC. It was strange calling her own name. “Remember to do everything you did…I mean I did.” In a few seconds there was a flash. The machine cycled on. Sophie disappeared. Then it was time-traveling Sophie’s turn. She had less than 20 seconds to climb into the TDC. Moments after she did the machine cycled off. The garage was now empty except for Sophie and the time machine.

What Sophie didn’t know until much later was that the other Sophie ceased to exist in this timeline when the machine cycled off. Because it could only cycle on and off once, the time machine ended the paradox. You see, to handle a paradox you need to confront it head-on as Sophie did. She did her part by acting quickly and the machine did its part by closing the time loop.

When Sophie visited him in the hospital, the Professor turned to her and whispered, “You’re a brave girl, Sophie. Thank you for saving my life. But whatever you do, please don’t tell your mother how you did it. She’ll think we’re both crazy!”

On the way back to their house, Sophie’s Mom said, “You know, Sophie, this morning when the ambulance arrived, I could have sworn I saw your twin for a moment. It looked like there was a girl dressed just like you in the Professor’s garage.”

“How could that be, Mom? You know I’m an only child.”

“Maybe with all the excitement, I was seeing things. A person can’t be in two places at once, can they?”

“The Professor says such a thing is possible, at least on a quantum level.”

“There you go with that quantum stuff again. I don’t understand what good that will ever do anyone.”

“Maybe you will someday,” Sophie smiled.

In the fall, the old physics Professor helped Sophie with her math homework. In time she would become an outstanding physicist herself and would one day help invent a new kind of power generation, changing the lives of millions, but that’s another story.

February 2018