Eric & Einstein Page 4

  ‘A mouse!’ Mrs Wimpleby shrieked. ‘How disgu…’ Her husband nudged her in the ribs. ‘How distinctly nice,’ she sighed, stressing the stinc part of the word. ‘Are you sure about this?’

  ‘I won’t go on without him,’ Eric said. ‘His name is Einstein, by the way.’ The adults burst out laughing.

  ‘Love it!’ Dwyer McHiflyer slapped Eric on the shoulder. ‘Great name for a dumb animal!’ Einstein bit Dwyer’s finger. The TV presenter jerked his hand away. ‘Viewers are going to lap this up,’ he yowled, shaking his hand and scowling at the white mouse.

  ‘I mean it,’ Eric insisted. ‘He’s my brains trust. He helps me think.’ The adults laughed even louder.

  Dwyer was still laughing as he thudded away in his chopper, nursing his finger and the signed contract.

  Eric glanced down at Einstein and frowned. ‘It’s not really right,’ he whispered. ‘I shouldn’t be on The Big Brain Game. I don’t really have much of a brain at all. It’s kind of like cheating.’

  The mouse winked. ‘Don’t worry. No one knows.’

  ‘But …’

  Einstein held up his paw. ‘We’ll show them, you’ll see. They’ll love you. Piece of cheese.’

  ‘Cheese?’

  ‘I beg your pardon, Master?’

  ‘The cheese, Brique. You did bring the cheese, didn’t you?’

  Doctor von Burpinburger and Tikazza Brique were thousands of feet above the sea on a Bulgonian Airlines flight.

  ‘Of course, Master. A large piece, as you requested.’

  ‘Good. Our little white friend does like his cheese. It may be just what we need to catch him.’ The doctor rubbed his hands together. ‘And the mouse trap?’

  Brique’s face instantly brightened. ‘Oh yes, the trap! I have the trap, all right. The one that slams down on his head and squashes —’

  ‘No, no, you fool! Not that trap. The gentle one that lures him into a nice little padded box and closes quietly but firmly behind.’

  ‘Oh, that one?’ Brique groaned. ‘Yes, Master. I’ve brought that trap along as well. But I do think —’

  ‘Rubbish,’ the doctor yelled. ‘You don’t think. You never have. If you did, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?’

  ‘Yes, Master. No, Master.’ Brique hunched his shoulders and sneered out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Whatever you say.’

  ALL OR NOTHING

  Eric sat in a large armchair, surrounded by television cameras, the audience listening to his every word. Einstein hung out of his top pocket and seemed to be enjoying the whole show. At one point it even looked as if he was smiling at the cameras.

  Dwyer McHiflyer leaned forward with another question. ‘What is an accipiter?’ he asked.

  ‘A type of hawk,’ Eric replied at once. Einstein winked up at him.

  ‘Correct,’ Dwyer nodded, and instantly fired the next question. ‘The ancient Incas worshipped a sun god. What was that god’s name?’

  ‘Inti.’

  ‘Correct again!’

  Eric was having a ball at The All or Nothing Challenge, to begin with, at least. The show was recorded in the afternoon, then played at night on prime time television.

  The first episode flew by. Eric had answered twenty-nine questions correctly without blinking, Einstein’s replies coming through to him loud and clear. Everyone loved this boy genius with his mascot mouse. They were such a team.

  ‘Final question for episode one,’ Dwyer said. ‘Who crossed the Rubicon?’

  Eric hardly paused. ‘Julius Caesar,’ he replied, and the audience burst into applause.

  They began to cheer when Einstein climbed out of Eric’s pocket and stood on his shoulder. They cheered even louder when it looked as if the tiny mouse was actually waving. Impossible, they laughed. What a joke.

  Einstein, however, was exhausted by all the thinking. He only just made it through the first episode. He fell asleep before they left the studio and stayed that way until well into the next day. Eric had a great deal of trouble waking him, and only managed to do so a couple of hours before the second episode was due to begin. He was very worried about his little friend.

  Are you OK? Eric asked as he waited for the show to start. Einstein nodded, but he didn’t look OK, and he kept yawning as if he was going to fall asleep at any moment. Even when the studio orchestra blasted out the fanfare, Einstein still kept yawning. He did brighten a little, though, when Dwyer McHiflyer leapt in front of the cameras.

  ‘Who wants to be RICH?’ the TV personality boomed.

  ‘Whooooo doesn’t?’ the audience boomed back, and episode two of The All Or Nothing Challenge was underway.

  Things did not go well this time. Einstein kept nodding off and Eric had to keep waking him up. Even when he was awake, the little rodent had trouble concentrating. Eric had to ask Dwyer McHiflyer to repeat a few questions, and more than once Einstein didn’t seem too sure about the answer. But it was on the last question that Eric suddenly knew he was in trouble.

  ‘Tom has forty-two apples. Kate has fifteen times as many, and Bob has three times the number Kate has. How many apples are there altogether?’

  There was no reply from Einstein. Eric looked down. The mouse had fallen into a deep, deep sleep. His head hung over the side of the pocket, and Eric simply could not wake him.

  ‘We can’t wait all night,’ Dwyer McHiflyer warned.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Eric said, trying to wake his little pal. ‘We’re in this together. I can’t do it alone.’

  The audience laughed. They laughed even more when Eric pushed and prodded at the mouse. And they howled with laughter when Einstein began to snore.

  ‘Your time is almost up,’ Dwyer McHiflyer insisted. ‘We must have your answer, Eric Wimpleby, boy genius. It’s All or Nothing! Thirty seconds to go. How many apples?’

  Eric realised that he was on his own. Einstein wasn’t going to wake, so if they were to stay in the show, it was up to him. He struggled with the sum in his head, closing his eyes as he multiplied and added. Forty-two times fifteen is … The time ticked by.

  ‘Twenty seconds to go.’ A sneaky grin crept across Dwyer McHiflyer’s face.

  Eric was using all his fingers and all his wits. He’d already worked out the first part – forty-two times fifteen is six hundred and thirty – and felt pretty pleased with himself. But there was still more to the problem, and Einstein was snoring so loudly that Eric had trouble thinking. Worse still, Dwyer McHiflyer was pressing him for an answer.

  ‘Ten seconds. Nine, Eight …’

  Eric squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out all the noises and voices. Three times six hundred and thirty is …

  ‘Five seconds.’

  That’s one thousand, eight hundred and ninety, plus … Eric’s head was bulging with numbers.

  ‘And time is up, Eric Wimbleby. For your chance to be rich, tell us now: How many apples altogether?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Eric gulped. ‘But I think it’s two thousand and … and something.’

  ‘And something?’ Dwyer McHiflyer laughed. ‘I need the exact answer.’

  Eric quickly ran the figure through his mind once more. He wasn’t absolutely certain and the doubt worried him. He’d only have one go at this, and the last thing he wanted to give was the wrong answer.

  Dwyer McHiflyer interrupted Eric’s thoughts. ‘Come along now, no more delay, the exact answer, if you please.’

  Eric sat up straight. ‘Two thousand, five hundred and sixty-two,’ he said, fingers crossed.

  At that very moment, Einstein woke with a loud yawn. He glanced at the screen where the problem was displayed. After some whirring in his head, he winked up at Eric. Bravo old chap! Good work. Top marks. Then he yawned again. Sorry, I drifted off. Needed a catnap.

  Dwyer McHiflyer inspected the answer sheet. ‘Eric Wimpleby, boy genius, your answer is’ – the television presenter paused – ‘your answer is correct.’

  Mrs and Mrs Wimpleby rushed forward and
hugged their son. The audience went crazy. They clapped and cheered and stamped their feet. Phone lines jammed as calls poured in from all over the world. There were book offers, television shows, and a movie deal, while newspapers everywhere blazed with the headlines:

  BOY GENIUS CLOSE TO

  PRIZE OF A LIFETIME!

  PRIZES AND SURPRISES

  ‘Boy genius, indeed!’

  Doctor von Burpinburger and his assistant arrived at the airport late that night, and were waiting to collect their bags. The doctor angrily shook a newspaper in the air and then tore it to pieces in a fury.

  ‘It’s not the boy!’ he shouted. People stared at him and backed away. ‘It’s the mouse. He’s the genius. My mouse!’

  ‘Of course, Master.’ Brique tried to calm the doctor. ‘It is quite a prize, though, you must admit.’

  ‘Yes, Brique,’ the doctor screamed this time. ‘It is quite a prize. And it could have been all mine if you hadn’t —’

  Tikazza Brique cringed, fully expecting a whack over the head. But the doctor clenched his fists and gritted his teeth to calm himself. ‘Still, we can’t dwell on the past forever, can we?’

  ‘How true, Master. There’s always tomorrow.’

  ‘Exactly. Tomorrow. That’s when I’ll be claiming my prize. Oh yes, Brique. Tomorrow we’ll be in the studio audience, and I’ll make sure that little mastermind is mine again. All mine!’

  Brique clapped his hands. ‘All ours, Master. All … ouch!’

  Prizes were the last thing on Eric Wimpleby’s mind. He was too worried about his pink-eared pal.

  Eric stayed in his room all the next day with Einstein. The mouse was not well. In fact, his ears weren’t pink at all; they’d lost most of their colour, along with his face and skin. He’d slumped asleep again immediately after Eric had answered that final question, and hadn’t opened his eyes since.

  Einstein lay on the pillow next to Eric now, his face pale, his breathing shallow. This was crazy, Eric decided. His little mate couldn’t do another episode. It might kill him.

  Several times through the day, Eric’s parents visited him. They brought meals and treats, and gave Eric hugs. But they didn’t understand. They told him to forget about his mouse. They said it was more important for him to rest so he could win the final challenge. If only they knew. If only everyone knew.

  Einstein eventually woke. It was late in the afternoon, with less than an hour to go. He looked dreadful. Eric leaned down and whispered to him. ‘We can’t do this.’

  Einstein sat up at once. ‘Why not?’ he replied with a yawn.

  ‘You won’t be able to stay awake. You’re drifting off already.’ It was true. Einstein could barely keep his eyes open.

  ‘Nonsense,’ the mouse yawned again. ‘Just get me some coffee.’

  ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Yes, coffee, a thimble full. Strong and black.’ He stretched.

  ‘But it’s not just that,’ Eric said. ‘I’m not really sure all this is what I want.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Einstein insisted. ‘Everyone wants to be rich.’

  ‘I know, but …’

  ‘Please just get me the coffee. And make it a few thimbles, actually.’ Einstein clapped his paws. ‘Don’t just stand there. Hurry!’

  THE FINAL ANSWER

  The coffee worked like magic. That much caffeine should have made a mouse curl up its paws, but it woke Einstein like a bucket of cold water and gave him more bang than a stick of dynamite. He was a new mouse, full of answers and ready for anything.

  ‘Bring it on,’ he squeaked in Eric’s ear as they sat down in front of the cameras. ‘Yo, let’s go. Let’s show ’em what we know.’

  Eric was amazed at the change in his friend. Einstein fed him one answer after another without pausing.

  ‘What is the capital of Ethiopia?’

  ‘Addis Ababa.’

  ‘What’s the highest mountain in Africa, and how high is it?’

  ‘Kilimanjaro. It has two peaks, one at 5895 metres above sea level, the other at 5149 metres.’

  ‘What’s the square root of 4356?’

  ‘Sixty-six.’

  Soon Eric had twenty questions right.

  Twenty-one.

  Twenty-two.

  ‘Name three inventions by Thomas Edison.’

  ‘The phonograph, the electric light and the movie camera.’

  Twenty-three questions right.

  Twenty-four.

  Twenty-five.

  As the million dollars drew closer, the excitement in the studio grew and grew.

  ‘What is Mauna Kea,’ Dwyer asked, ‘and where is it?’

  ‘It’s a volcano in Hawaii,’ Eric answered, ‘and it’s 4205 metres above sea level.’

  Twenty-six right.

  Twenty-seven.

  People perched on the edge of their seats.

  Twenty-eight.

  Everyone was willing the whiz-kid on.

  ‘Name the first space probes to successfully send pictures and information back to Earth about the planet Saturn.’

  Eric didn’t answer at once. There was a long pause as a frown drifted over his face. He wrinkled his brow and stared into nothing, lost in his thoughts. It even looked as though he mightn’t answer at all. Not that the answer was the problem. He’d heard Einstein loud and clear. He just had something else on his mind. A certain little doubt that had been slowly growing in him had turned into a big doubt.

  ‘Time for your answer,’ Dwyer McHiflyer reminded him.

  Eric shook his head as if he’d been in a dream. ‘Voyager 1 and Voyager 2,’ he said eventually.

  Twenty-nine right! A roar went up in the studio. This was it. One question left. Everyone held their breath as Dwyer McHiflyer asked that question.

  Everyone except Eric, that is.

  He didn’t even hear the question this time. Not that it really mattered. He didn’t have to hear the question as long as Einstein did. All Eric had to hear was Einstein’s answer. But he didn’t even hear that this time. Or perhaps he didn’t want to.

  Einstein repeated the answer. The Emperor Akbar in 1566.

  Eric heard it eventually, but took no notice. All he had to do was say those five words and he would be a millionarie. The Emperor Akbar in 1566. But he sat there and said nothing.

  Eric wasn’t sure anymore whether this was really what he wanted. Ever since the second episode of the show, he’d been having doubts, and now they were churning about inside his head.

  There were too many noises and voices around him. The excitement in the studio was like a storm brewing. The audience whispering. Eric’s parents urging him on. Dwyer McHiflyer gabbling away. And over it all was a constant drum roll from the studio band, louder and louder. Eric could hardly think.

  His own voice was telling him one thing. I’m not a superbrain. I’m just an ordinary kid. This isn’t me.

  So what? Einstein’s voice told him. They don’t know it’s not you.

  Eric stared down at the mouse. ‘But I do.’ He said the words out loud this time, straight to the mouse, but everyone heard him. ‘I know it’s not me.’

  The audience mumbled, they murmured and rumbled. What’s wrong with the kid? He’s lost it. Eric’s parents called to him.

  ‘It’s All or Nothing, Eric Wimpleby,’ said Dwyer McHiflyer. ‘Now or never. For a million dollars. What is your answer?’

  Eric had decided what his answer was.

  THANKS BUT NO THANKS

  ‘Thank you, Mr McHiflyer,’ Eric said. ‘But I’ve had enough.’

  A gasp swept through the audience like a Mexican wave. No one could believe it. ‘He’s throwing away a fortune,’ someone shouted. ‘The kid’s bonkers. You’re mad, mate,’ said another voice.

  Eric’s father waved his arms frantically and shouted to his son. When that didn’t make any difference, he fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Eric’s mother rolled on the floor, making a dreadful mess of her business-like suit, pulling her
hair out and weeping.

  And someone in the studio even burped – loudly.

  Eric didn’t hear the burp, but Einstein did. Or at least he thought he heard it. And it was a very familiar burp, thought the mouse. He scrambled from Eric’s pocket onto his shoulder, and peered around the studio. But there was too much happening for him to see anything clearly.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Dwyer McHiflyer asked.

  Eric had made his mind up. ‘Thanks for having us on your show,’ he said.

  For once the TV presenter was speechless.

  ‘I think I’ve learnt something,’ Eric added as he reached out and shook Dwyer’s hand. ‘And I’m sorry Einstein bit your finger.’

  Eric turned and walked out of the studio without looking back.

  As soon as Eric and Einstein disappeared, the audience exploded again. There were more gasps and shouts and shrieks.

  ‘Come on, Brique,’ Dr von Burpinburger yelled. ‘Now’s our chance. While everyone’s busy. We’ll grab them before they get away.’

  There was so much commotion that no one even noticed the two strange-looking men hurrying out of the studio.

  Eric walked through the building and out into the late afternoon sunshine. But as the doors were about to close behind him, he heard his name called.

  ‘Master Wimpleby. A moment of your time.’ It was a foreign sounding voice, and Eric almost turned around to see who it was. But then he’d had enough of reporters. He wanted to get home as quickly as possible. ‘A moment, Master Wimpleby. Just a moment!’

  But Einstein recognised the voice. The doors had almost closed when the mouse caught a glimpse of the doctor.

  ‘Let’s hurry,’ he suggested as Eric walked towards the taxi rank. ‘Let’s dash, rush, scurry. In fact, let’s get out of here! Tout de suite. Immediately!’