MILKING TIME

'Irish Jack! Where have you been?' Polly cried.

She was both surprised and relieved that Irish Jack had miraculously returned to St. Luke's farm. He had disappeared in mysterious circumstances after climbing onto her husband's milking machine. Farmer Jack's penchant for experimentation had turned a perfectly ordinary mechanical cow's udder-sucker into a highly dangerous Time-machine. Few in the neighbourhood doubted that the fiery explosion which had accompanied Irish Jack's disappearance had catapulted him into the Fourth dimension.

'I'm not quite sure where I've been,' Irish Jack replied, sheepishly. 'It's affected my memory''

'Come on in. It's marvellous that you're back safely. Betty is here, together with our in-laws- to–be, Judith and Keith Newton.

'Mazeltov and congratulations.' Irish Jack added, wiping cow turds off his feet. 'Newton s– aren't they related to the famous Isaac Newton, the guy who invented apple strudel when an apple fell on his head? Just imagine a world without apple strudel! There was another Isaac Newton, come to think of it -- but he only invented gravy -- or was it gravity?'

Ignoring his cheerful prattle, Polly said: We were so worried about you, Jack. I see your beard has gone quite white.'

'Well, I did travel a few thousand years, so it's not surprising. Didn't you realise that I had crashed the Time Barrier''

'You really crashed through the Time Barrier!' Polly exclaimed with awe.

It suddenly struck her that the husband she had thought of as a gentleman farmer who invariably made the wrong decisions about his animals and crops, had made the greatest scientific breakthrough of all time. Disguising her pride in Farmer Jack's remarkable achievement, she said calmly to Irish Jack: 'Well, later on when you've rested you can tell us everything that happened to you.''

*

There was excellent fare at dinner that evening. Earlier, Farmer Jack had gone out shooting. A flock of pheasants had loomed in his sights larger than a barn door, but he had missed. By happy mischance, though, he had bagged one of his neighbour's sheep. So the menu consisted of roast saddle of mutton garnished with gurkey sauce. In a rare tribute to the famous name of Newton Polly had made both gravity gravy and apple strudel, which Irish Jack insisted on calling William Tell pudding.

Curiosity was intense concerning his experience of time-travelling. Polly had explained how the remarkable incident had affected their lives. The news that an ordinary milking machine could be tranformed by the addition of a few magnetic coils into a revolutionary time-travelling machine had sent a shock wave through the surrounding countryside. Several farmers had secretly modified their milking machines along similar lines; but so far no one had dared to repeat the experiment. Their caution was justified. They all knew that Irish Jack had completely disappeared after Farmer Jack had thrown the switch. It was an awesome thought that he was somewhere 'up there' in the firmament. Even if he knew how to reverse the direction in Time in which he was travelling, it was considered doubtful if he would be capable of navigating himself safely back to St.Luke's. An error of as little as one micro-second on his watch might cause him to arrive at the former rectory during the eighteenth century. It would be awkward- especially for a Jewish time-traveller- if he arrived during the clergyman's devotions.... An error of one minute and he might land during the Ice Age and freeze to death. All kinds of dreadful possibilities suggested themselves.

Nevertheless, look-out points had been established and manned at Up Loders, Down Loders, Burton Bradstock, Swyre and other neighbouring villages. But until tonight there had been no sighting of the intrepid Irishman. Betty, his wife, was the only one who wasn't worried. Knowing him better than anyone else, she surmised that he was having such a good time he was reluctant to come back.

Farmer Jack hurried through the Friday night prayers, and when he had finished reminded Irish Jack that he owed him fifty pounds for the suction teats missing from the milking machine. 'Incidentally,' he added gruffly, 'where have you been all this time?''

Irish Jack replied enigmatically: 'On a major voyage of discovery''

'Come on, then.'' Farmer Jack said testily. 'Spill the beans. What happened to you? Where were you? What did you see?'

Without answering, Irish Jack proceeded to attack his saddle of lamb. The guests couldn't help feeling a little irritated by his deliberate vagueness. He was acting as though his experience had set him apart from the common run of humanity. Concorde travellers have been known to do the same thing..

Farmer Jack said impatiently: 'Stop playing the Ancient Mariner. Tell us exactly what happened when I threw the switch on the milking machine?'

'I fell into a time warp.'

'We didn't see you fall down.'

'There is no up or down in the Fourth dimensions. Nor is there gravity, gravy or apple strudel. But I saw some truly amazing sights''

'Such as?'

Irish Jack said somewhat portentously: 'I saw deer grazing on your land'

Farmer Jack looked faintly surprised. He had, in fact, recently been considering introducing a herd of deer onto his rich meadows. Until that moment he had dismissed Irish Jack's story of time travel as the product of his excitable Celtic imagination. But this demonstration of what must either be clairvoyance or mind-reading made him reconsider.

'Anything else?'

'Yes, I saw Indian maize growing six feet high.'

Farmer Jack looked sceptical.

'It's too cold in these regions for Indian corn.'

'We're in for some very hot summers.'

'That's very interesting,' Farmer Jack gave him a suspicious look and after a pause commented: 'But you still haven't told us what it's like up there.'

'Everything was rushing past at tremendous speed.'

'If you were travelling too fast, how was you able to see Indian corn growing on my land.'

'I just caught an occasional glimpse of St. Luke's farm. But I saw other things besides... I saw land and sea monsters that no human has ever set eyes on. It was like seeing evolution speeded up on a movie camera. Human beings were undergoing evolution. The women were all incredibly beautiful, but they didn't need legs anymore because they travelled everywhere by car, and they didn't need wombs because all babies were born out of bottles. As a result they looked like mermaids.'

'Mermaids,' Farmer Jack said incredulously. 'How do they?' He looked around the company at the table and whispered something inaudible to Irish Jack.

'Mermaids always have been one of nature's impenetrable mysteries,' Irish Jack said solemnly. 'That, in fact, is one of the reasons I came back.'

Keith Newton intervened, smiling: 'On a more practical level, were you able to see what the stock markets of the world were doing?'

'No, unfortunately. You'd be surprised how unimportant these things become when you're Time travelling.'

'So how,' Polly asked. 'did you manage to arrive here just in time for Friday night dinner?'

'Quite simple. As you know, when my travels began I was holding the teat of the milking machine. I discovered that by twisting it I could reverse the flow of Time and change the direction of travel. When I saw millions of shabbat candles being lit I knew it must be Friday night. But I had a special difficulty in orientating myself spatially in relation to St. Luke's farm. Everything had become a mere visual blur. But when I had almost given up, by an extraordinary coincidence I heard a familiar commotion- something very distinctive – something that only happens at St. Luke's farm – and I was able to home onto it.'

'What was that?' Farmer Jack enquired, curiously.

'The sound of dreadful expletives that offend against innocent ears. I immediately reversed my direction of travel by twisting the Time nipple and homed onto this terrible hullabaloo.'

Judith Newton enquired: 'What was this terrible sound?'

'It was the noise of someone being bastinadoed – or rather balustraded.'

'Someone being tortured?'

'Exactly. A fiendish torture devised by none other than your host.'

He pointed an accusing finger at Farmer Jack.'

Farmer Jack protested strongly: 'I didn't design it that way. I'll explain. The truth is thatm snooker room is too small. As a result it is possible to be put into a position where the only available method of playing the ball is to cock your leg over a balustrade Hence the expression being balustraded. It is, I have to confess, humiliating, embarrassing and sometimes excrutiatingly painful and invariably excites very loud oaths and epithets. But on this occasion we can all be grateful. For by a happy chance it led my cousin Irish Jack to make a safe return to St. Luke's farm. And since he has brought good tidings regarding the future of my crops and cattle, I'll welcome him back and drink a toast to his very good health.'

He raised his glass and all present drank to Irish Jack's safe return from the Fourth dimension.

Irish Jack, in turn proposed a toast to the forthcoming nuptials.

Farmer Jack toasted the union between the Conn and Newton family and went to get some more wine.

Betty insisted that her wishes for blessings on behalf of Marion and Michael should be accompanied by yet more wine.

Keith Newton proposed that no amount of wine in the whole world could compensate him for the loss of a daughter .but a little whiskey might comfort him for gaining a superb guitar player.

Farmer Jack went to get some whiskey.

Judith said: 'They make a lovely couple. Let's drink to their future.'

And they did. Again and again.

*

We come now to the climax of our story. Time travellers can be affected by a malady similar to jet lag. It was plain that Irish Jack was suffering from an illness known as time lag. As a result he had become just a little confused.

Swaying a little, he proclaimed huskily: 'The Heisenburg Uncertainty Principle asserts that it is possible for an elementary particle of matter to be in two places at once. As an elementary particle myself, I claim the same right.'

'Hear, hear!' said Farmer Jack, who was himself seeing double, having drunk a great deal of alcohol.

'There are two kinds of people in Dorset,' Irish Jack continued, 'Dorsetshire country folk who understand the magical and unpredictable ways of nature. And Grockles, sophisticated non-believers who only come down occasionally to disturb the Dorsetshire peace. Consequently, and as we have seen this is in true accordance with the principles of modern science, there are two perfectly acceptable ends to this story. One is for cynics from the great metropolis and the other for good, clean-living country folk.

'For townsfolk, who always demand a rational explanation, this is a completely plausible account of what happened to me when Farmer Jack threw the switch on his milking machine. There was a deafening explosion accompanied by a cloud of black smoke. Irish Jack tumbled out of the gap between the roof and the milking machine and landed on a pile of rotting straw on the other side of the corrugated iron wall. Half stunned, he lay there for a few minutes. When he came to his companions had disappeared. Suddenly, it occurred to him that this was a marvellous opportunity to finish a science fiction story that had been occupying his mind for some time. So he repaired to the Bridport Arms and spent the next year finishing off his story – the one, in fact, I have just related to you.

'The other ending, and one which proper Dorset folk would unhesitatingly accept, is that Irish Jack was sent flying into Time and Space by a brilliant engineering feat devised by Farmer Jack''

Polly said: 'The second ending must be true, because your beard was black when you climbed up on the milking machine and now it's white.'

'Exactly,' said Irish Jack, thoughtfully stroking his beard.

'What a pity it didn't make the hair on your head grow,' his wife remarked.

A gleam appeared in Farmer Jack's eye. He said: 'To get younger you have to travel backwards in Time. Who's prepared to accompany me in a little experiment...'

He looked around the table, but there were no takers. They were all afraid they might miss the wedding.