Everything seemed to slow down. The heat of the sand, the noise of the crowd, the smell of Fred’s armpit swirled. Time stretched and slowed like a river of Jell-O.
From far away in the dark, I heard the crowd cheer.
Thumbs up!
“Citizens!” whooped the Professor.
“Your plan worked, Joe. We’ve all been freed and declared citizens!” yelled the excited Professor, pulling us to our feet.
I could hardly believe it. Big Time Wrestling had saved our skins all the way back in ancient Rome. I made a mental note to tell my mom I needed to watch TV much more often.
The four of us approached the emperor’s box to receive our freedom. We stopped to bow our thanks to the white-robed keepers of Vesta. I remember thinking our triumph was almost too good to be true.
Two seconds later, I looked over my shoulder into the sand-covered arena, and saw that our triumph was too good to be true.
Just like in those championship matches where the good guys beat the bad guys, the bad guys were sneak attacking after the win. Except in this case, we weren’t getting bonked with folding chairs or garbage cans. We were dead in the sights of two mad gladiators, one with a sword and one with a trident. And there wasn’t much doubt who they were.
“Brutus!” yelled Fred.
“Horridus!” yelled Sam.
“Run for it!” yelled the Professor.
And we did.
XI
“Stand where you are, cowards,” called Horridus, swinging his sword.
“Fight like real gladiators,” shouted Brutus, twirling his net.
“Pick on someone your own size,” cried Sam, and we took off running.
The crowd yelled in surprise and then started cheering the chase. They thought it was all part of the show. We ran away from the crazed gladiators, but there was no place to hide. We were trapped out in the open.
“Where is a good vomitorium when you need one?” said Sam, running right behind me.
And just like that, granting Sam’s wish, a trapdoor opened in the sand ahead of us.
“Head for the door!” called Fred.
But lucky for Fred and us, we didn’t make it there too soon. Because out of the opening there half-jumped, half-slithered the giant crocodile we had seen being loaded below. He was just as surprised to see us as we were to see him. The shocked reptile stood there blinking in the sudden sunlight. That gave us just enough time to run a wide turn around him and into the trapdoor opening. Brutus and Horridus would have to go through the croc to follow us.
Fred, Sam, the Professor, and I stumbled down stairs in the dim light. We saw the top of the crocodile’s cage being lowered to the next level of the arena. That was where we came in. That would be our way out.
“Jump!” said the Professor, pointing to the top of the cage. We did.
Our sudden weight on the top of the cage must have surprised the workers letting down the cage by ropes from down below. We dropped like a rock and landed with a thud. We crawled off the top of the cage and found ourselves standing in the hallway with three very surprised workers staring at us. We took off before they had time to recover.
I remember reading this question once. “Which runs faster—fear or anger?” The fearful four of us answered that question without a doubt.
We ran down the twists and turns and up the steps of the underground passageways until we suddenly found ourselves standing outside the Colosseum. We hid our swords. The Professor stashed his shield in the doorway, and we tried to lose ourselves in the crowd.
“Nice work, Professor,” said Fred.
“Citizen Professor,” I said.
“You’d be a killer wrestler back in our day,” said Sam. “Speaking of which—now where the heck do we find The Book?”
I looked out at the streets of Rome. They seemed to head off in every direction. We drifted away from the Colosseum with the crowds of Romans coming and going.
“There are publishing shops, the Sosii, over there in the Forum,” said the Professor. “Slaves copy volumina there. Perhaps your Book is there.”
“Sosii, here we come,” said Sam, looking around nervously. “Now let’s get out of this neighborhood before we run into—”
“Brutus!”
“Exactly,” said Sam.
“Horridus!”
“Him too,” said Sam.
“Who said that?” I said.
“Their fans,” said Fred, pointing behind us. We looked back and saw our two worst nightmares running down the street toward us, cheered on by their fans.
We took off down the stone streets of Rome like they were our own racetrack. I have no idea where we ran. Sometimes we followed Fred. Sometimes we followed the Professor. We followed me. We followed Sam. We just kept running with Brutus and his trident and Horridus and his sword right behind us.
It seemed like we were in one of those old black-and-white goofy cop chase movies. Except this one was all mixed up with a tour-of-ancient-Rome movie.
We ran under fancy archways. We ran past buildings crazy with columns and Latin writing and Roman numerals. We actually ran through the middle of somebody’s house—right through their dinner, with flutes playing, people leaning on one elbow on couches and eating, the whole thing like you’ve seen in pictures. We ran along a hill where you could see an even more gigantic arena than the Colosseum, and finally sat down under the giant arches of the water-carrying aqueduct.
“I can’t run another step,” said Sam.
I was just about to agree when I heard two familiar voices coming down the street toward us. Brutus and Horridus were still on our trail.
“There’s nowhere to hide,” I said.
We heard a noisy crowd coming from the other direction.
“Oh yes there is,” said the Professor. A red chariot passed in front of us. The Professor herded us into the middle of the gang of crazy Red fans following and cheering. We stayed low and danced right under the noses of the angry looking Horridus and Brutus scanning the wave of Reds that had forced them off the street.
We stayed with the cover of the crowd for a few blocks, and then ducked into a side doorway.
“In here,” said Sam.
“No way,” said Fred, pointing to a mosaic sign over the door. “This sign says they have a guard dog.”
“I didn’t know you could read Latin,” said Sam.
“I can‘t,” said Fred. “But it doesn’t take a genius to translate a picture of a mad dog and CAVE CANEM into ’‘Beware of Dog.’”
Sam looked impressed, then puzzled. “Hey Joe. How come this sign is in Latin, but we can understand when people talk?”
“That’s a very interesting Time Warp question,” I said. But I didn’t have time to answer because I suddenly heard two angry voices down the street that didn’t need any translation.
“Oh no,” I said. “Brutus and Horridus must have figured out our trick. Which way to the book-shop, Professor? Quick!”
“This way,” said the Professor, pointing with his sword. He led us past a long row of serious-looking statues, through a fancy stone arch, and up to a row of low buildings. Shutters covered the windows. A small sign hung on the door. It said CLAUSA.
“Oh no,” said the Professor.
“I think I can read this Latin,” said Sam. “It says, ‘Forget it. You will never find The Book. Two very mad gladiators are about to have you for lunch.’”
“No. ‘Clausa’ means ‘closed,’” said the Professor.
“Same thing,” said Sam, flopping to the ground. “That’s it. I give up.”
“I should have known they would be closed,” said the Professor. “Everything is closed in Rome when you want to get in. Or when it’s an official holiday.”
“So now what?” said Fred. “These guys aren’t going to give up. We’ll have to fight them.”
“With one real sword and three wooden swords?” said Sam. “This isn’t Monday Nitro. These guys take this gladiator stuff personally. We who ar
e about to die and all that. Forget it.”
We heard the not-too-distant sound of Brutus and Horridus calling to each other. They were getting closer. This was no time for tricks. We had to hide.
I pulled on the door. Locked.
I saw a flicker of light in a circular stone building standing by itself. “Over there,” I said.
“No one is allowed—” the Professor started to say, but we didn’t stick around to hear the rest.
I slipped inside the building followed by Fred dragging Sam. We found ourselves standing in the middle of one large circular room. It was empty except for a huge stone bowl with a fire flickering in it.
The Professor tiptoed in behind us. He looked absolutely spooked. “No man is allowed in here.” His whisper echoed around the room. “This is the very Temple of Vesta. This is the sacred fire that must never go out. It is protected by the gods and the Vestal Virgins.”
“The ladies in the white and purple robes,” I said.
“They love us,” boomed Fred.
“Shhhh,” said the Professor. “You don’t understand. If we are found here, it will be worse than fighting Brutus and Horridus and twenty gladiators together. If we are found here in the Temple of Vesta, we could be—”
“Buried alive,” said a voice from the shadows.
XII
The white-robed figure who had spoken stepped from the shadows into the light of the fire. We were completely surprised to see it was a girl about our age: She even looked like someone I knew. I couldn’t quite remember who.
“Priestess,” said the Professor. “We meant no harm. My companions are strangers and—”
“And they have come seeking only safety and their Book,” said the girl.
Fred, Sam, and I must have looked like that cartoon where the wolf’s jaw drops down to the ground and his eyes pop out of his head. She might have guessed we were looking for safety. But how could she possibly know we were looking for The Book?
Our mouths hung open and we stared bug-eyed at the Keeper of Vesta’s flame.
“Bu-bu-but ...” said Sam.
“Wha-wha-what ...” said Fred.
“We-we-we ...” I said.
A sudden angry pounding on the door echoed through the room.
“Brutus and Horridus,” said Sam.
“It has been foreseen and foretold,” said the Vestal keeper, without seeming to notice. “‘A trio of travelers will come to reclaim / Their missing volume the first day of new games,’” she recited from memory.
“We are them,” I sputtered. “I mean them are we. We are us. The trio I mean—”
“Shhh,” said the girl. “We know.” She pulled out a thin blue book from inside her robe and handed it to me. “Though I’ve never seen a scroll like this.”
“The Book!” yelled Sam.
I had a million questions, but the green time-traveling mist was already wrapping around us.
“But what about the Professor? He needs to be a free citizen. What about Brutus? How will you stop that nasty guy, Horridus?”
“This too has been foretold,” said the keeper of the flame. She calmly raised her hand in farewell and smiled a mysterious smile. I really couldn’t tell what it meant. I heard the doors open and the mad gladiators rush in. The last thing I saw is still burned in my mind like a painting.
Brutus with his trident raised, and Horridus with his sword drawn charged from the left. The white-robed girl and the Professor stand calmly, hands at their sides on the right. The flame of Vesta rises in the middle, streaking everyone in light and long shadows.
The green mist rolled in one last thick cloud, covering all.
I felt myself Time Warp spinning through the years and miles to home.
XIII
I’ve never gotten used to that stomach-twirling feeling of Time Warping, and this trip was no exception. We flipped and flopped and wormed our way through I don’t know where, until we suddenly landed exactly back where and when we had been. Sam and I sat on the floor. Fred came down from mid-jump onto my bed.
The green time mist slipped away like air leaking out of a tire. Sam, Fred, and I stared at each other like we always do after time wandering, wondering if what we had just seen could possibly be real.
Fred was the first to move. He took off his World Wrestling hat and dusted the sand of the Colosseum off his pants. “Did we just—?”
Sam nodded. “Ancient Rome.”
I looked down at my sword-ripped T-shirt. “Gladiators,” I agreed. “But I hope we didn’t mess up everything for the Professor and that girl who saved us.”
“I think everything turned out just fine,” said Fred.
“How would you know?” said Sam. “You look in your crystal ball?”
“Something like that,” said Fred. “Check this out.” He picked up the open Book on my bed and handed it to Sam.
There was a picture opposite the picture of the gladiator that had started this whole mess. It was a detailed painting of a round building, ringed with columns. Our girl stood on the steps smiling. A man in the toga worn only by citizens waved from the street.
“The Professor did get his citizenship,” said Sam.
In the lower left corner stood two statues, frozen in angry poses. One held a sword. The other held a trident.
“And Brutus and Horridus got turned into statues,” I said. “It couldn’t have happened to two nicer guys.”
Fred took back The Book. He closed it very carefully. He pretended to look closely at something on the back.
“And look. What’s this? Right here? One ugly little guy with a ripped T-shirt, and one scrawny little guy with glasses. Doofius and Stupidus!”
Fred whacked me and then Sam on the head with The Book.
“Three-Way Rematch!” yelled Sam, and we both charged Fred.
We smashed into a pileup. We brawled onto the floor. We jammed Fred into the corner by my desk, glad to be home.
LATIN FOR TIME TRAVELERS
Making Friends
I’m Joe.
Is that your trident?
Look behind you.
Run for your life!
Joe sum.
Estne tuus iste tridens?
Respice retro.
Curre pro vita tua!
Jon Scieszka, See You Later, Gladiator
(Series: # )
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