Writing for Fun
June 2018
e=mmc2 - Pete Norman
I looked up from my book. I was not even certain that I had heard it – the sound was so soft it was almost beyond my hearing – but what I thought I had heard in the silence was so bizarre that I somehow knew that I could not possibly have imagined it. I stood up and looked back along the rows of seats but I seemed to be quite alone. I knew that when I had got on board the train there was no one else in the carriage and I had not heard the doors open since so surely I must be imagining it.
Around me the carriage was silent except for the faint hum of the heating system extractor fans. Perhaps the machine had hiccupped and somehow my brain had turned the irregular sound into something meaningful. However, there was no way to confirm this and there were still ten minutes before the train was due to leave so I picked up my book and searched for where I had left off.
Then I heard it again, ‘e=mc2.’ After a brief pause the voice added, ‘. . . what an idiot.’
I had definitely heard that! I leapt up from my seat and spun around. Once again there was no sound except for the faint hum of the fan but I walked back down the length of the carriage checking each seat in turn until I reached the far end. The carriage was empty. I retraced my steps looking underneath each seat to see if maybe some prankster was hiding from sight but by the time I reached the other end I had confirmed that there was definitely no one else in there.
I leaned against the end wall staring blankly down the length of the carriage trying to make sense of what I had heard – and I was absolutely certain that I had heard it. I waited for the next few words – and I was absolutely certain that there would be more – in fact I was intrigued as to what could possibly follow that.
After a few minutes, however, I began to feel foolish. Maybe it was just my imagination after all. What was it Scrooge had said? ‘You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato.’
I laughed at my stupidity, sat back down and picked up my book.
‘He got his inspiration from the wrong place.’
I froze. I held my breath and tried to focus every ounce of my attention on tracing where the voice was coming from but apart from the hum of the fan the silence appeared to be mocking my efforts.
I tried to rationalize the situation but all I could come up with was that someone must be having a conversation on the platform outside near to the fan intake. A cursory check through the window soon quashed that idea.
Then hot on its heels came another. Of course, why had I not thought of it before? There had to be a speaker hidden somewhere beneath my seat and somewhere some bored C2C employee with binoculars was getting off watching my confusion.
I got down on my hands and knees and peered under the seat but there did not look as if there was room under there to hide anything of any size. I rummaged into every crevice of my seat but if there was some concealed speaker then it had to be very, very well concealed.
‘Rodeintsein said that if energy was dependent on light then those who inhabit the dark side would be totally bereft.’
This time the sound was coming from the other side of the carriage.
It was moving about.
I dropped down onto the floor beside the other seat. On the flat of my back using the flashlight on my mobile phone I covered every inch of the seat fabric and the floor but still I found nothing – it was as pristine as a C2C train could ever be. I quickly crawled to my feet again – it would be embarrassing if any other passengers came in and found me in such a compromising position.
‘The only commonality between the two worlds is cheese.’
This time the sound was coming from the row behind. I was not going to demean myself further – I knew I was being jerked around – but somehow, even knowing that, it was impossible to ignore the bizarre comments and once again I was crawling around beneath the seat shining my light into every crevice. A few minutes later I found myself sitting on the floor in a state of utter defeat with my back resting against the side wall of the carriage. I was done. I raised my hands in defeat. He had won.
‘Ordinary cheese is ready in as little as a few weeks but la crème de la crème – Vintage Cheddar – requires a maturation rate of at least twenty four months . . .’ the voice was now coming from behind me but this time I did not move. I had given up.
‘Twenty four months in seconds is 6.3 to the power seven which is close to the speed of light. Einstein was not that far out . . .’
I sat with my head down, my eyes closed and my hands over my ears trying in vain to shut out the relentless words.
‘. . . but he ignored the fact that cheese is far more important than light. The correct formula is e=mmc2. Energy equals mass times the maturation rate of cheddar squared.’
After that but for the faint hum of the ventilation fan, there was silence, blessed silence. I raised my head. I looked around the carriage and dared to believe that normality had returned, that it was finally over. I climbed up, dusted myself down and returned to my seat. After another careful look around I breathed a sigh of relief and reached for my book but there was no way I could concentrate on reading after all of this. I rested my head back against the relative comfort of the seat back and closed my eyes.
And that was when I heard it.
A faint rustling sound.
I snapped my eyes open and there, running along the end wall away from me, was a small grey mouse. The mouse stopped in the far corner where the dust lay in a thick carpet. It bent its head down and began to scrabble about in the dust. I watched, fascinated and at first its movements appeared to be random but then I realized that there was almost an order to the chaos. I was mesmerized.
The mouse suddenly stopped. It appeared to scrutinize its work and then turned to face me. It sat back on its haunches and for a few seconds its whiskers twitched. I thought I saw it wink but that was impossible. Then it ran off, disappearing beneath the seats and I was alone again.
Curious I crouched down and shone the light into the corner. In the dust was written, ‘e=mmc2.’
From far behind me I heard the voice say, ‘And who is going to tell them, eh? Someone has to.’