The Walls Of The Universe Part 25

"Listen, John."

He turned. Casey was standing back a couple meters, hands in her pockets. He nodded.

"I'm really sorry for, you know, reading your diary," she said. "I shouldn't have done that. It was really rude."

John shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it and had hoped that she had forgotten all about it.

"I mean it," she pushed. "I am sorry."

John nodded.

"Don't you accept my apology?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, I do."

John was worried she'd keep at him, but she seemed satisfied with his reply.

"So, are you ready to meet my parents again?"

"Huh?"

"For Thanksgiving. You're coming for dinner."

The holiday was only a few weeks away.

"Casey, I don't think-"

"John, you have to. They want to meet you again, especially since they never liked Jack so much."

John sighed.

"No, I won't be able to go," John said firmly.

"Where else will you be going? You don't have family."

"The Rayburns will have me."

"You're not even related!"

John's face flushed, but instead of yelling back, he said quietly, "I don't want to go to your parents' house. I don't want to spend Thanksgiving with you and them."

Casey's retort died in her mouth. "You don't-?"

"No. I'm busy with pinball stuff."

"Pinball stuff?"

"Yeah."

"You have got to be kidding! You'd rather spend time with your friends on that stupid game than with me?"

"I thought you were a part of it?"

She rolled her eyes.

"If I wasn't I'd never see you. It's either the pinball machine or whatever you have locked in that box."

"Hey!" John cried. He hadn't realized she knew about the box.

"It's like I'm not even a part of the important stuff in your life," she said. "It's like you keep everyone at arm's length."

"That's not true!"

"Then what's in the box?"

John didn't answer.

"What?"

"It's not important," he said. "Casey, I'm new at this. I've never had... I've never been this close before."

"You're not that close now!" she cried. Tears were falling down her face.

"I've never done this before!" John replied. "I don't want to hurt you or make you angry or hide important things from you. But-"

"But you do."

"Casey, don't be unfair to me!"

"Me unfair to you?" She forced a sharp laugh. "I'm your girlfriend, remember? We're supposed to share things. Be together. For holidays and things."

"Fine, I'll go to your parents' for Thanksgiving."

"Too late. The offer is null and void!"

"Don't be petty!"

"Don't cave just because I cried. You should have wanted to come." Her cheeks were bright red.

"Stop playing games!" John cried. "Stop pressuring me! I have a say in what we do, don't I? If I don't want to go to Thanksgiving dinner, I shouldn't have to!" A point that had been inconsequential was now a bone of contention.

"You think-" She stopped herself. "John. It doesn't matter. You don't have to come to Thanksgiving."

She turned away, stepping over the stream into the open.

"Casey."

She walked down the path parallel to the stream.

"Casey." John ran after her. He grabbed her arm. "This is silly," he said. "I want to come to your parents' house. I do. I don't know why I said I didn't. It's just stupid of me."

She wiped snot from her nose on her sleeve. "Yeah, that's true."

"You didn't have to agree so fast," John said with a smile.

"I think I did."

John slipped his hand in hers and they walked the length of the trail in silence.

The prototype was ready three weeks later, a complete head-to-head pinball game, with a digital scoring system, various b.u.mpers, and six sets of flippers per player.

John won the first ten matches, mostly because he knew how to work the flippers while the others couldn't get the hang of catching and holding the ball. But Henry learned fast, and he was the first to beat John.

"And there was much rejoicing," Grace said when Henry scored the game point.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Not yours."

The flurry of bells and screaming could be heard throughout the lab, and before long a grad student wandered by and asked to join in. He dropped in a quarter, and when John heard the clink of the coin in the money bucket he caught Grace's eye and smiled.

Henry kicked his a.s.s in two minutes.

The next night they had ten people there. The third night it was standing room only in the lab. That weekend they had the first tournament. Henry won against John in the finals, ten to nine.

It was a smash success. So much so that John decided they would try the next step. He should have known better; he should have remembered his ultimate goal was to understand the device. Instead he was caught up in the idea of the pinball machine and didn't realize what he was about to do.

Seeing the bars in the light of the day was like seeing a news anchor without his or her makeup and cue cards. The places smelled of stale beer and echoed their footsteps as they entered. John and Casey stopped in a small bar called Woodman's not far from campus, which had a video game and a couple of pool tables. John and Casey had been there once. John was always surprised not to be carded going into bars, but the drinking age in this universe was eighteen.

"We're looking for the manager."

A guy was hauling a keg of beer up a conveyor belt from the bas.e.m.e.nt through a hatch in the floor. He said, "In the office. Past the bathrooms."

Casey followed John down the hall to a door marked: "Authorized Persons." John knocked and a rough voice answered, "What do ya want?"

John pushed the door open onto a cramped office. A balding man sat behind a desk, smoking a cigarette.

He looked up at them and said, "I ain't sponsoring any homecoming float."

"That's not why we're here," John said.

"Good thing. What then?"

"We have a game. We'd like to put it in your bar."

The guy looked at them, then said, "I don't want any trouble, so I don't run any slots here."

"It's not gambling," John said. "It's like a video game, but mechanical, sort of like pool."

"A game." He pulled a long puff on his cigarette. "You got a license from the city?"

"No."

"You work with the gaming union?"

"No."

"Then I don't think so."

"But..."

"I'm sure it's great, kids, but, one, I don't have the room, and, two, I don't have the time for the trouble it'll cause me." He lifted his hand, pointing to the door. "Thanks for asking."

John turned to go, but Casey said, "We made fifty bucks in one night, and that was when it was in a lab on campus."

"Fifty bucks?"

"In quarters," she said.

"My jukebox makes seven dollars a night. How could you make fifty? You're s.h.i.+tting me."

"You want to see it?" Casey asked.

"You got it open to the public tonight?" he asked.

"A small crowd," John said. "We can't keep it where it is."

The man nodded. "I'll stop by."

Outside on the sidewalk, John said, "You did good, Casey."

She smiled and said, "I know."

The lab bay was packed and John was worried that it would attract campus security, but it didn't. And the bar owner finally showed up, wading through the throng.

"Ray Paquelli," he said, offering his hand to John.