: The Green Light

Patrick leaned forward.

Clyde opened the lid.

Inside was a stack of papers and coins. “Our rent money is here,” Clyde said. He picked up the papers. “This is Uncle Hiram’s will.”

“Read it,” Patrick said.

“I only know my numbers and letters for customer names,” Clyde said. He passed the paper to Patrick.

Patrick read it. He said, “Your uncle left everything to both your aunt and to you.”

Clyde jumped up. “I have a way to make a living.” Clyde laughed. “I have to tell my aunt,” he said.

Patrick stood up. “This is great!” he said.

“But first,” Clyde said, “let me help you.” He went to the counter and put on a work apron. “Is this the liquid you’re looking for?” he asked. He opened a jar.

Patrick and Beth smiled at each other.

Patrick took the black box out of his pocket. He placed its wand in the liquid. No green light. Clyde closed the lid and wiped the wand with an oil rag. He opened another jar.

Patrick put the wand in the oil. No green light.

Clyde opened container after container.

“Maybe the right liquid isn’t here,” Beth said.

Patrick was afraid Beth was right. But he was also scared about finding the right liquid. What if it didn’t matter? What if the Imagination Station didn’t return? What if they were stuck here for the rest of their lives?

Clyde went behind the counter. “Let’s try the liquid from America,” he said. He found the jar and opened it.

Patrick stuck the wand in the gray-blue liquid. The button on the box turned green.

“This is it!” Beth said.

Patrick whooped.

“How interesting,” Clyde said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” Clyde turned the oil label around. “What does it say?”

Patrick said, “It’s called Tesla’s Oil.”

Beth laughed. Tesla had helped Whit build the Model T Imagination Station. “Yay for Tesla’s Oil!” she said.

“Wait,” Patrick said. He leaned toward Beth and whispered, “This is 1854. Tesla wasn’t born yet.”

Beth whispered, “Maybe he kept trying to build a time machine. Maybe he sent this special oil back in time.”

Patrick nodded. They might not know how the oil got to Hiram’s Oil Store. But it was the oil they needed.

Patrick heard the hum of the Imagination Station. He smiled. The hum was a welcome sound. The Model T appeared outside the shop’s large windows.

Patrick picked up the oil. “We have to go,” Patrick said.

“Goodbye,” Clyde said. “Thank you for all your help!”

Beth waved goodbye. “Thank you for yours, too,” she said.

“You’ve saved my life,” Patrick said.

“All I did was give you oil,” Clyde said. He laughed.

Patrick followed Beth outside.

“I’m so glad to see the Imagination Station,” Patrick said. “I thought we might be stuck here. I was afraid too much of its power source had leaked.”

“Me too,” Beth said. “But now we can go home.”

Patrick hopped into the passenger seat.

Beth slid into the driver’s seat.

Patrick found the compartment on the passenger side. He placed Tesla’s oil inside. Then he noticed a keyhole next to the compartment. He finally knew what his gift was for.

Patrick took the small key out of his pocket. It fit the lock perfectly. Patrick turned the key.

A sliding panel moved to cover the compartment. Then the panel opened. The container full of Tesla’s oil was no longer there. The oil was now inside the Imagination Station.

Beth put on her seat belt. “Ready?” she asked.

Patrick left the key in the lock. He buckled his seat belt. He couldn’t wait for the Imagination Station to cure him. He couldn’t wait to go home.

Beth hit the big red button.

The Model T sprayed them with a fine mist.

“What’s happening?” Beth asked.

Patrick laughed. “Maybe it found the cholera germ on me. No germs are leaving with us,” he said. “That means I won’t have cholera.”

The Imagination Station made a loud squeak. Then metal scraped against metal.

“I must have been real sick,” Patrick said. But something didn’t feel right.

Patrick heard the sound of glass shattering. He looked at Beth.

“There’s that smell again,” Beth said.

Patrick smelled it too. There was the scent of apricots, lemons, pears, and oranges.

The fine mist grew into a heavier spray. Drops of water began to rain on the inside of the Model T.

Then everything went black.