Ctrl-Z (2 page)

It was extraordinary. It was the most extraordinary thing that had ever happened to him, Alex thought. It was hard
to believe, but it seemed that if you put a time into the computer and pressed Ctrl‐Z, you went back to that time.

It was so hard to believe, he thought he had better try it again.

For his next experiment, he decided to make more changes than moving a few books and a pair of slippers. This time, he tipped
all
the books on
to the floor, he emptied the entire contents of a box of Lego on to the carpet and then pulled his duvet and pillows off the
bed for good measure. While he was pulling the duvet, he knocked his bedside light on to the floor and broke it, and for a
moment he wondered how he was going to explain this to his parents. But then he realized he didn’t have to explain anything.
It didn’t
matter
how much damage he did or what he broke because when he pressed Ctrl‐Z everything would go back to how it had been
before.

He was still standing there thinking about this when his father came in.

‘Just wanted to see how you were getting on with –’ Mr Howard paused, taking in the bedding on the floor, the Lego scattered
on the carpet and the broken bedside light. ‘What on earth have you been doing?’

‘Ah…’ said Alex. ‘Well…’

‘You’ve broken the light,’ said his father. ‘How did that happen?’

‘Um…’

‘And why’s all this stuff on the floor? What’s going on?’

Alex was moving towards his desk. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said. ‘I just have to type in something.’

‘You’re not typing in anything,’ said Mr Howard firmly, ‘until you’ve explained what all this –’

But at that point Alex pressed Ctrl‐Z and his father disappeared. Alex was back sitting at his desk, the duvet and pillows
were back on the bed and the bedside light was back on the table, unbroken, and the clock said it was twenty minutes past
ten.

Looking at the computer screen, he noticed for the first time a little envelope icon in the bottom right‐hand corner. When
he clicked on it, the menu screen disappeared and was replaced by an email. It said –

Alex read the email through twice. He had no idea why Godfather John should want him to make lots of mistakes, but
that was only one of several questions buzzing round his brain. Like where the laptop had come from, who had made it, and
how it worked…

The door opened and his father came in.

‘Just wanted to see how you were getting on with your birthday present,’ he said. ‘Does it work?’

‘Yes, yes, it does,’ said Alex. He stood up. ‘I thought I might take it round and show Callum.’

‘Won’t he be busy this morning,’ said Mr Howard, ‘with the party?’

‘That’s not till this afternoon,’ said Alex. He closed the lid of the laptop. ‘And there’s a program on here I think he’d
like to see.’

He had a feeling that his friend Callum would be particularly interested in Ctrl‐Z.

C
allum lived four houses down on the other side of the road and, when Alex rang the bell, the door was opened by Mrs Bannister.
Callum’s mother was a large, broad‐shouldered woman with an anxious expression that changed to a smile of relief when she
saw Alex.

‘Oh good! I was hoping you’d come round!’ She put a hand on Alex’s shoulder and swept him indoors. ‘There’s a lot to do and
we need someone to keep an eye on Callum.’ She led the way through the house. ‘He’s been all right so far, but… well, you
know what I mean.’

Alex knew exactly what she meant. Callum was what is sometimes called ‘accident‐prone’. It wasn’t that he did anything bad
on purpose, but things seemed to happen when he was around and, if you
heard that someone in the neighbourhood had fallen out of a window or electrocuted themselves with a toaster, you could be
fairly certain that Callum would be involved in it somehow. However hard he tried to avoid an accident – and he tried very
hard indeed – things just seemed to… happen.

‘His father’s put him in charge of the balloons,’ said Mrs Bannister in a low voice as she led Alex out through the kitchen
and into the back garden. She gestured nervously over to the patio where Callum was blowing up balloons with the aid of a
large gas cylinder. ‘I’m not sure it was wise, but at least he’s where we can see him. Try to make sure he doesn’t…
do
anything, will you?’

‘OK,’ said Alex, and he walked across to join his friend.

‘You’re early,’ said Callum. ‘Dad isn’t picking up Lilly for an hour yet.’

Lilly was Callum’s sister, and she had been in hospital for the last six weeks with a bone infection called osteomyelitis.
Today she was coming home, and her parents had organized a party and invited some of her friends to help celebrate.

‘I know,’ said Alex. ‘I came to show you this.’ He reached into his bag and took out the laptop. ‘I got it this morning.’

Callum frowned. ‘I thought you already had a computer. Didn’t you get one for Christmas?’

‘Yes,’ said Alex, ‘but not like this. My godfather gave me this one, and it’s… it’s amazing.’

‘Oh?’ Callum picked up a balloon, attached it to the nozzle of the gas cylinder and opened the valve. ‘Amazing how?’

‘You won’t believe me if I tell you,’ said Alex, ‘so I’ll show you.’ He sat on a garden bench and turned on the laptop.

On his way over, he had already decided that the simplest way to explain what the computer did would be for Callum to try
it himself. He tapped at the keys to find the page that set the time, altered the numbers to two minutes earlier and held
out the laptop to Callum.

‘I’ve set it up for you,’ he said. ‘All you have to do is press Ctrl‐Z.’

‘Can I do it later?’ Callum put a clip in the base of the balloon and tied its string to the arm of a garden chair to stop
it floating away. ‘Only Dad wants a hundred of these and I haven’t done half that.’

‘Ctrl‐Z,’ said Alex. ‘That’s all you have to do. Press Ctrl‐Z.’

Callum gave a little shrug, reached forward and held down the Control key with one finger and pressed Z with another.

Alex found himself standing outside the kitchen door with Mrs Bannister.

‘His father’s put him in charge of the balloons,’ Mrs Bannister was saying in a low voice. She gestured nervously over to
the patio. ‘I’m not sure it was wise, but at least he’s where we can see him. Try to make sure he doesn’t…
do
anything, will you?’

‘Um… OK,’ said Alex, and he walked across to join his friend.

‘You’re early,’ said Callum. ‘Dad isn’t picking up Lilly for an hour yet.’

‘You don’t remember?’ said Alex.

‘Remember what?’ Callum pointed to the bag Alex was carrying. ‘What’s in there?’

‘It’s the computer,’ said Alex. ‘The one I was telling you about. You really don’t remember?’

‘I thought you already had a computer.’ Callum picked up a balloon, attached it to the nozzle of the gas cylinder and opened
the valve. ‘Didn’t you get one for Christmas?’

‘Yes, I did,’ said Alex, ‘but it wasn’t like this one. This one…’ He stopped, not quite sure what to say. How could you explain
to someone that you had a machine that meant you could go back in time when you were the only person that ever remembered
that you had?

‘Dad wants me to do a hundred of these,’ said Callum. He put a clip in the base of the balloon and tied it to the arm of a
garden chair to stop
it floating away. ‘He wants them all over the garden. Pass me another, will you?’

Alex passed up another balloon from the box on the bench and Callum began filling it with gas. There had to be some way of
explaining it, thought Alex, and as Callum filled balloons and chattered about an accident he had had that morning with a
hedge‐trimmer, he tried to think what it was.

At the bottom of the garden, Mr Bannister was trying to mow the last bit of lawn, but his mower had stopped and he couldn’t
get it started again.

From the open patio doors behind him came the sound of a cricket match on the television and the voice of the commentator
saying Flintoff had been caught at mid‐off and England still needed seventeen runs to win.

Mrs Bannister came out of the kitchen with a tray of cutlery, which she carried over to a table set out in the middle of the
lawn, and called to her husband to help move it into the shade…

… And suddenly Alex knew exactly what he had to do.

He sat on the bench, opened his laptop, set the time and pressed Ctrl‐Z.

‘What’s in there?’ Callum asked, pointing to the bag Alex was carrying.

‘It’s a computer,’ said Alex, reaching down and lifting out the laptop. ‘I got it this morning.’

Callum picked up a balloon. ‘I thought you already had a computer.’

‘Yes, I do,’ said Alex, ‘but this isn’t like the one I got for Christmas. This one can take you back in time. If you press
Ctrl‐Z on it, you go back to an earlier part of the day.’

‘Ah…’ Callum attached the balloon to the nozzle of the gas cylinder and opened the valve. ‘I was going to get one of those,’
he said, ‘but then I thought, no, I’ll save up for an invisibility cloak.’

‘I know you don’t believe me,’ said Alex, ‘but I can prove it.’ He looked at his watch. ‘In about five seconds your dad’s
lawnmower is going to stop. He’ll try to get it started again, but it won’t. Then the television will say Flintoff’s out and
England still need seventeen runs or something, and then your mother’ll come out of the kitchen with a tray of stuff she’ll
put on the table over there and she’ll ask your dad to give her a hand moving it into the shade.’

Callum stared at Alex for a moment and was about to speak when the sound of Mr Bannister’s lawnmowing suddenly stopped. At
the far end of the garden, they watched as he tried unsuccessfully to restart the mower.

‘He’s gone!’ came the excited voice of the commentator from the television indoors. ‘Flintoff has gone! Caught at mid‐off
by Pritchard and England still need seventeen runs if they are to win this match…’

‘Could you help me move this?’ Mrs Bannister called to her husband, as she put her tray on the table in the middle of the
lawn. ‘I think it’d be better in the shade.’

Callum turned to Alex, his mouth hanging open. ‘How… How did you know all that?’

‘Because I’ve done all this before,’ said Alex. ‘It’s the computer. It lets me go back in time.’ And he was about to explain
how, with Ctrl‐Z he could do this, when he noticed that the chair with the balloons was now three metres in the air and still
rising.

The garden chair, to which Callum had carefully attached forty‐three balloons filled with helium, was made of lightweight
aluminium. A moment before, there had been no indication that forty‐three balloons might be enough to make it float up into
the air, but that was because, until then, Mojo the dog had been curled up on the seat. Seeing Mrs Bannister come out of the
kitchen with a tray, however, Mojo had got down to investigate. In his experience, trays and tables meant there was a possibility
of food.

Without his weight, the helium in the forty‐three balloons had been enough to lift the chair into the sky and, as the
boys watched, it bumped into the satellite dish on the wall just under the guttering.

There was a cry from indoors as Callum’s grandfather called out to say the picture had disappeared on the television.

The balloons, with the chair swinging beneath them, continued to rise and then began drifting down the garden, carried on
the breeze.

Callum’s grandfather appeared on the patio. ‘Something’s happened to the television,’ he said. ‘The picture’s gone. We
only needed seventeen runs and –’ He paused, looking round the patio. ‘Where’s my jacket?’

‘What?’ Callum tore his eyes away from the floating chair.

‘I left my jacket on the back of a chair out here,’ said Grandad. He looked suspiciously at Callum. ‘What have you done with
it?’

‘I‐I haven’t done anything…’ Callum sounded understandably nervous.

‘Well, where is it, then?’ demanded Grandad.

‘It’s all right!’ said Alex. ‘It’s coming down!’

He pointed excitedly down the garden to where the chair was indeed losing height. Some of the balloons had snagged on the
branches of a tree
and popped, with the result that the chair, with Grandad’s jacket hanging on the back, was losing height. Losing height quite
rapidly.

Callum was the first to spot the danger. ‘Dad!’ he called out. ‘Dad, watch out!’

Carrying one end of the table, Mr Bannister turned, looked around and then looked up – unfortunately just in time for
the metal base of the garden chair to hit him squarely on the bridge of his nose.

With a cry, he toppled backwards into a patch of nettles as the chair continued its downward journey to land with a splash
in the pond.

‘My jacket!’ Grandad began running down the garden. ‘I’ve got my ticket for Australia in there!’

‘Arnold!’ Mrs Bannister was kneeling beside her husband who was bleeding profusely from the nose. ‘Arnold, are you all right?’

Callum stared out at the scene. ‘Why?’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Why do these things always happen to me?’

Alex, however, did not answer. He was sitting on the bench, tapping busily at the keys on his laptop.