History Class

Welcome to The Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is: you are home alone watching TV. The phone rings. 

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is an Italian author and currently lives in Berlin, Germany. She writes fiction, with a focus on children’s literature and science fiction. 

 

History Class

by Chiara De Giorgi

 

created with Canva

I was home alone watching TV when the phone rang.

A perfectly normal sentence if you were born in the twentieth century. But I was born in the thirtieth, and had no idea what a TV was, or a phone. As for the home… it was above ground, but not in space.

 ***

I was not prepared for such a jump back in time; I would have searched for information about that era if I’d wanted to travel so many centuries into the past. I must have made a mistake in setting the destination in the time machine. I intended to go to 2987, as a matter of fact. Not 1987. But there I was, apparently inhabiting the body of my 15-year-old ancestor of the time. My first instinct was to immediately activate the return mode and go back to my time. But curiosity got the better of me. Everything looked so strange!

I was wearing a bizarre piece of clothing that reminded me of those worn by primitives in historical depictions and covered me from the shoulders to mid-leg but left my arms exposed. The material was likely cotton, in its original form before the genetic alterations of later centuries, when most plants had to be resynthesized. Ha! I recalled something from my studies, after all, no matter what my team-mates—and my teachers—said.

Thrilled by the realization that I might actually know something about human societies that lived a thousand years before my birth, I focused and tried to remember other details. They lived in houses, that is, artificial constructions above ground but not in space. I was inside one—and I was intrigued—but what I really wanted was to see one from the outside. I was curious to see how they looked like. How could I get outside, though? There were holes in the walls, but when I looked down I became so dizzy that I dropped to the floor for fear of falling. We were too high up! Wasn’t that dangerous? I mean. Space residences are much higher up, but they’re safe, there’s no possibility of falling out. As for underground dwellings, well. You’re already underground, where could you fall? And what were they thinking, putting holes in the outer walls? Madness. Unless… Maybe they had some device that helped them float gently to the ground.

I kept looking around. The house was full of objects I could not imagine the use of. A black box with a weird shape caught my attention. I accidentally stepped on something, and the black box came to life.

I froze for a moment, thinking someone had suddenly appeared in the middle of the room. I knew they didn’t have time travel back in the twentieth century, but maybe they used teleportation? I could not remember this from my history classes. But then I realized the people were inside the black box. Fascinating! That must have been the one-thousand-year-ago version of our fun-fiction.

I was watching the screen, completely mesmerised, when I heard a ringing sound. And another. And another. I started to look around to identify the source of that sound. I noticed a small object with the most peculiar shape and I approached it. The sound was louder there. Warily, I touched it. A piece of the object broke loose, and I heard a voice come out of it.

“Hello? Hello-oh?”

“Uhm… Hello?” I said.

“I am the headmaster of ‘Tweedledum and Tweedledee High School’. I called to inform you that your daughter has skipped several hours and I wish to know whether you are aware of this and if there is a good reason.”

“Skipped hours? Could it be that there’s something wrong with the subatomic direct exchange in her tripper?”

“What? I mean history classes! And math. She has good grades, but if she does not show up, she will be failed. Rules are rules.”

“Sure. Rules are rules. No doubt about that.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement. Will you talk to her?”

“Of course!”

“Very well. I wish you a nice day.”

“Thank you!”

The voice disappeared. After a few attempts, I managed to reposition the detached piece. A moment later, the thing rang again.

“Hello?” a different voice than the previous one said when I picked up the removable part.

“Hello?” I said. I was starting to feel more confident in this strange, alien world.

“Hello and good morning, Madame! I want to tell you about this week’s fantastic deal! By purchasing the entire encyclopaedia collection today—”

“Encyclop—What is that?” I remembered that there used to be weapons in the olden days, and I suddenly felt afraid. “Are you offering me a collection of… weapons?” The very word felt dangerous on my lips.

“Ha ha! Good one! But wait. The encyclopaedia is indeed a weapon. A weapon against… ignorance! And it sounds like you could use one, ha ha ha!”

“Is that a threat?” I was starting to sweat. Maybe I should just…

I repositioned the mobile part in its seat and the voice went quiet. When the thing started to ring again, I ignored it. This was not the adventure I had envisioned when I had activated the time machine to go to my favourite hang-out place in 2987—ending up one thousand years earlier by mistake—instead of turning on my history lesson of the day… Wait. That’s what the headmaster was talking about! This made me laugh: my ancestor skipped her history classes and, one thousand years later, I did the same.

At that moment a large hole opened in the wall and a woman walked through it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a frown as soon as she spotted me. “Have you skipped school again?”

“I…”

The coincidence was remarkable. Apparently, my ancestor and I had woken up with the same idea that day.

“Answer me, young lady!”

Oh, well. I certainly didn’t want to receive the scolding reserved for my ancestor. I activated the return mode and a moment later I was back at home.

“What are you doing here?”

For a moment I thought the return mode had failed, but then I realised it was my own mother who had asked the question. Uh-oh.

“Have you turned down your classes again? What was it, this time? History again? Answer me, young lady!”

 

The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/