{"id":869,"date":"2016-08-12T07:00:14","date_gmt":"2016-08-12T12:00:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/?p=869"},"modified":"2019-05-09T11:26:17","modified_gmt":"2019-05-09T16:26:17","slug":"fiction-the-real-reason-mrs-sprague-came-by-her-house-so-cheaply-by-karin-terebessy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/?p=869","title":{"rendered":"Fiction: \u201cThe Real Reason Mrs. Sprague Came by Her House So Cheaply,\u201d by Karin Terebessy"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"thomasedison\"<\/a>M<\/span>rs. Sprague paused in front of the china cabinet<\/strong> when she heard a thunk<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was that?\u201d she called into the parlor. \u201cBoys?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing, Mrs. Sprague,\u201d they sang back in unison.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague let out a tense breath and headed toward the noise when a knock on the kitchen door forced her to pivot on her heels.<\/p>\n

She opened the door a crack. \u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n

On the doorstep, a white-haired man in a three-piece suit ballooned up his chest. \u201cI come from the past,\u201d he proclaimed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho doesn\u2019t?\u201d Mrs. Sprague snipped, and started to close the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I\u2019ve just traveled through time,\u201d he said quickly.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague shrugged. \u201cMe too. I\u2019m doing it right now. And now. And now. Good day\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait,\u201d he said, grabbing hold of the door frame. \u201cDo you know who I am?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague nodded. \u201cYou\u2019re Thomas Edison.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edison thrust his thumb over his shoulder. \u201cYou know you\u2019ve got a vortex through time in your back yard?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d She threw an impatient glance toward the parlor at the sound of another thud. \u201cNow if there\u2019s nothing more I can do for you Mr. Edison, I have company…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA party, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm,\u201d she answered vaguely.<\/p>\n

He tried to peer over her head. \u201cAfternoon tea? I sure could go for a bite,\u201d he mused, rubbing his stomach.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, well, maybe some other time…\u201d<\/p>\n

Edison\u2019s shoulders drooped. \u201cAh c\u2019mon. Lemme in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d she said, feeling a bit badly. \u201cTehlasintha,\u201d she mumbled.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome again?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague straightened. \u201cI said, \u2018Tesla\u2019s in there.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Edison went red in the face. \u201cWhy that\u2014\u201d He lunged for the door as Mrs. Sprague tried to shove it closed, trapping his arms and one leg on the kitchen side, where he thrashed them about like well-dressed worms.<\/p>\n

She was in the midst of kicking his foot and swatting his arms when Einstein wandered in, regarded the scene, and proceeded to moon about as if nothing were amiss.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor Heaven\u2019s sake, Albert! Make yourself useful!\u201d<\/p>\n

Einstein blinked. \u201cShall I put the kettle on?\u201d<\/p>\n

A crash came from the other room, followed by a roar of laughter. This distracted Edison for a moment, and Mrs. Sprague slammed the door shut and locked it.<\/p>\n

Einstein plucked at his trousers. \u201cI don\u2019t know where your kettle is, Mrs. Sprague.\u201d<\/p>\n

She shooed him away and hurried to the parlor, just in time to catch the lamp Ptolemy knocked over.<\/p>\n

He had Copernicus in a headlock. \u201cNot so tough without your boy Kepler here to back you up, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Copernicus responded with a rebellious gurgle.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdmit my system works just as accurately as yours does to the naked eye!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben Franklin perked up. \u201cNaked?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague tried to wedge the astronomers apart but lost her balance and stumbled backward into the bay window wall, which had been completely graffitied with squiggles, lines, arrows, and right angles.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho did THAT?\u201d She sputtered.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t look at me,\u201d Franklin said. \u201cIt was Feynman.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague whipped around. Richard Feynman twiddled his thumbs and stared at the ceiling. Then began to whistle.<\/p>\n

Ptolemy and Copernicus crashed into an end table, ricocheted off the couch, landed on the floor, and resumed wrestling, Copernicus cowering beneath a hail of noogies.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor heaven\u2019s sake!\u201d Mrs. Sprague screeched, \u201cWhy can\u2019t you boys be more like your friend Godel!\u201d<\/p>\n

Feynman pointed into the corner of the room. \u201cHe\u2019s been hiding behind that bookcase for three-quarters of an hour!\u201d<\/p>\n

Godel started when all eyes turned on him. \u201cYou don\u2019t see me,\u201d he declared, as he waved his hands like a magician, flattened himself to the wall, then tried not to move.<\/p>\n

A clod of soil came flying at the bay window.<\/p>\n

Edison had circled round and stood menacingly in the backyard, palming another handful of dirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou tell that charlatan to get out here!\u201d<\/p>\n

Tesla ran to the window, just as Edison threw the second dirt clod. It fell to the ground, ten feet short of the house.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour aim\u2019s as weak as your current!\u201d Tesla yelled.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy current\u2019s just as good as yours!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour lamps are lame and inefficient!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you cast aspersions on my lamphood!\u201d<\/p>\n

Franklin took bets. Feynman sided with Tesla. Godel pretended to be invisible. And Pascal considered the options. \u201cPut me down for both.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t wager on both of them, Pascal!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty sure I can,\u201d Pascal said, utterly nonplussed.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague rapped her knuckles on the window. \u201cYou cut that out right now, Thomas!\u201d<\/p>\n

Edison dropped his dirt clod and hung his head.<\/p>\n

She whipped around to Feynman. \u201cAnd you! Get the cleanser from under the sink and start on that wall.\u201d<\/p>\n

Feynman scuffed his toe into the carpet. \u201cYes, Mrs. Sprague,\u201d he moaned.<\/p>\n

\u201cSay Tycho Brahe!\u201d Ptolemy growled.<\/p>\n

\u201cTycho Brahe,\u201d Copernicus croaked.<\/p>\n

\u201cTycho Brahe? I got that from a hooker once in Paris…\u201d Franklin mused<\/p>\n

\u201cNo more potty mouth, Ben, I mean it!\u201d<\/p>\n

Einstein blinked stupidly. \u201cWas I supposed to be getting the tea?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague pinched the bridge of her nose. \u201cI never had this problem when Marie Curie and Jocelyn Bell were here,\u201d she muttered.<\/p>\n

Franklin perked up. \u201cLadies?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague threatened him with a look and trudged to the kitchen. She let out a cry when Edison\u2019s head popped up in the window.<\/p>\n

\u201cSchr\u00f6dinger\u2019s out back,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he really?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUm…\u201d<\/p>\n

She yanked the curtains shut.<\/p>\n

Pascal peeked his head in the kitchen. \u201cBen\u2019s trying to get Albert to drop an A-bomb.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague massaged her temples.\u201cThe mushroom cloud kind or the dirty word kind?\u201d<\/p>\n

Pascal hesitated. \u201cBoth…?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Sprague smoothed back her hair and took a steadying breath. She reminded herself that every healthy scientist is a blessing. That there were some people who had no scientists at all. Then she headed toward the parlor, wondering vaguely when (or if) Schr\u00f6dinger would appear. Nursing a strong suspicion he\u2019d be swinging a dead cat. Like Huckleberry Finn.<\/p>\n

\"storyend_dingbat\"<\/center>Karin Terebessy <\/strong>is a yoga teacher and mother who writes when time allows. Her most recent science fiction can be found in Stupefying Stories<\/em>, Daily Science Fiction<\/em>, and also in a big pile next to her desk. Her essays can be found on Aish.com<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Her most recent appearance in our pages was “Mood Skin”<\/a><\/span><\/span>, last April, and her next will be “The Memory of Worms,” in October.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Mrs. Sprague paused in front of the china cabinet when she heard a thunk. \u201cWhat was that?\u201d she called into the parlor. \u201cBoys?\u201d \u201cNothing, Mrs. Sprague,\u201d they sang back in unison<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":870,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3,10],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/869"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=869"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/869\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1599,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/869\/revisions\/1599"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/870"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=869"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=869"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/stupefyingstoriesshowcase.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=869"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}