THE VIRTUAL ADVENTURES OF MEGAN AND TIMMY

A Virtual Game More than a week passed before Megan and Timmy used their webcams again. On this Saturday morning everyone was asleep except Megan. Although it was early, the absence of childish chatter was most unusual in the Flood household. Even her baby brother still slept. Megan looked at the clock, figuring the difference in time: If it’s five in the morning here and I add six hours, it will be eleven there. So she turned on her computer and clicked Skype. Luckily, Timmy was at his computer too. “Hi, Timmy.” “Hi, Megan. I tried to call the other day, but your computer was busy.” “You did? I’ll bet my father was using it.” “Do you remember what we were talking about last time?” Timmy asked. “You mean when my mother came in?” “Yes, you were going to show me how to play a game. You called it Pretend I Am, I think.” “That’s right. Do you want to play today?” “Why not? It’s raining like crazy here. Is it the same there?” “Yes, October is always cold and rainy. So let’s play. But you have to promise, Timmy, that you’ll do exactly as I do. You can’t change one single thing.” “I’ll do it just like you tell me.” “Okay, but before we start,” Megan said, “you have to know what to do. So … listen carefully. First, you have to take two big backward steps away from your computer. Second, you have to close your eyes and say the magic words, ‘Meno meno mene mow, into my PC I go.’ Third, you have to jump up as high off the floor as you can, and pretend.” Megan went first and as she jumped up, off the floor, there was a sudden swishing sound. Timmy looked on in amazement because in one blink of his eyes, she was now standing in the middle of a large circular room with lots of different-colored doors, looking bewildered and scared—until he saw her watching him watching her. “All right, Timmy,” she said, “it’s your turn. You promised. Remember?” “Okay, never fear, Timmy’s here, and here I come!” Timmy did the same, but this time there was no swishing. He had wanted to see where he was going, so he ended up landing with a sickening-sounding thud on his bum. Megan shouted from the circular room, “You weren’t pretending! You were wishing you didn’t have to do it. But you promised! And if you don’t, you’re just a big scaredy-cat! A really, really big scaredy-cat.” Timmy couldn’t let that remark go uncontested. After all, he was the man. He told her he could be braver than any other boy or girl. Maybe I’d better take my Ed Gage Detective Bag with me, he thought. He got the black bag, which was nearby, and checked its contents. Let me see: hat and coat, watch and magnifying glass … and all my other gadgets. … Right, they’re all here. I’ll do it this time. With his detective bag in hand he tried again. This time he didn’t peek, and with a swish he also stood in the circular room. A perfect two-point landing had set him next to the red door. A good omen, he thought. Red is my favorite color. Everything he had on was red, except for his jeans. His sneakers were red, as were his Manchester United soccer shirt and cardigan. Turning slowly, he saw the real Megan for the first time. He noted that she, too, was dressed for play, sporting a white blouse, jeans, yellow-and-green sneakers and a yellow-and-green Green Bay jacket. So there they stood, face to face, barely believing what had just happened. They looked each other up and down, and out of their mouths came the only word that could properly describe what had happened: “Awesome!” Megan’s excited eyes said the rest. Timmy gave her a little push to see if she was something other than a picture. Megan did the same to him and, sure enough, he was real and alive. Then they laughed and did high-fives to seal the deal—and a friendship. “You brought a bag,” Megan said. “What’s in it?” “Stuff I thought we might need. One never knows.” “I brought my purse,” Megan said, feeling a bit foolish. “I don’t know why, I just did.” Then, slowly, oh so slowly, they looked around and realized there wasn’t the slightest noise. “Oops,” Megan said, her voice sounding fearful. “Do you think we could be in a virtual place?” “Maybe. We did get here through our computers. So, I’d have to say”—he paused and looked around the room again—“Yes ... What do you think?” “Well … I’d say yes too, I guess. But how do we get out of here?” “What do you mean, get out?” Timmy said. “I thought you knew everything about this game. How to get in and how to get out! You don’t?” “I’m sorry, Timmy. I never dreamed the game would work.” “It’s a good thing I brought along my magnifying glass and my coat and cap and the other bits and bobs in my Humming Detective bag. I think I’m going to have to use all my detective skills to get us home.” Timmy then pulled out his Ed Gage coat and felt in every pocket, but to his dismay he had forgotten something important. “I could have sworn my map was here,” he muttered. He stuffed his coat back in the bag. “Do we really need a map?” “It was a world map. … But you’re right, I don’t think it would have been of much use anyway.” “We’ll have to look behind every door then,” Megan said. “The way home has to be behind one of them.” She paused, looking at the swarm of doors, hope being her only consolation. “Then we won’t have to tell anyone where we’ve been or what we’ve seen.” “Who’d believe us anyway?”