Lauren Ipsum: A Story About Computer Science and Other Improbable Things (10 page)

“Right,” said Winsome, ticking off Fuerza’s package on her list.

“Elegant Island is next. Now where’s that special package?”

“Wow, what kind of animals are those?” Laurie asked. Along the shore, little gray
animals with long gray trunks were playing with each other and napping in the sun.

“Those are the Elegants. The island is full of them,” Winsome replied.

“They’re so small and graceful! It’s like they’re
dancing.”

“Yeah. Package, package . . .” Winsome muttered to herself.

“Don’t they have Elegants where you come from?”

“No. We have ele
ph
ants, but they are all big and clumsy. Are
Elegants friendly?”

“Only as much as they need to be,” Winsome said. “Found it! Okay, this
package is for Fresnel Goodglass.”

“The address just says
UNDER THE RED BALLOON
,” said Laurie.
“I guess that means he’s over there.” She pointed to a red globe floating above
the trees.

But before she left, Laurie wanted to play with the Elegants. She approached them carefully,
making soft “coo, coo” noises.

“Are you a bird now?” Xor snarked.

“Shush. I’m just trying to get their attention.”

The Elegants didn’t seem especially scared or curious. In fact, they acted as though
Laurie weren’t there. But their dancing always seemed to take them out of her path. When she
walked along the shore, the little creatures drifted inland. When she went inland, they decided that
under the trees was the place to be. Soon Laurie could see only a handful of Elegants, playing just
outside of her reach.
Oh, well
, she thought.

* * *

With the balloon to guide them, Laurie and Xor found the hill easily enough. But when they
arrived, nothing much was there. A large boat anchor was half-buried in the earth. A rope led up,
and up, and up to a basket way above the ground, which itself was attached to the balloon. A couple
of young Elegants were playing hide-and-seek under the trees. There were no buildings or people at
all.

“Are we in the right place?” Laurie wondered aloud. “Where is the
lighthouse?”

“Hey, Laurie, take a look at this.” Xor was clinging to a sign that read
Please Ring for Service
. A little bell hung below it. They looked at each other
and shrugged. Xor gave it a whack with his tail.

rang the bell, much louder than such a tiny thing should be allowed to.

Xor was right next to it. The little lizard turned bright indigo and fell to the
ground.

Laurie had to cover her ears until the sound died away.

When it was all over, the young Elegants were nowhere to be seen. Laurie gathered Xor in her
hands. His skin was white and his eyes were rolling around in different directions.

“Xor! Are you okay?”

“I think so. That scared the blue right out of me!”

A hissing sound from overhead made Laurie look up. An elevator box was lowering itself to the
ground in front of them. They flinched as the door opened with a polite
ding!

Laurie picked up her package and, with a last look around, stepped inside. The door closed,
and the elevator rose fast enough to make her toes crinkle and her stomach go roly-poly.

When the door opened again, they were a hundred yards up in the air, inside the basket. It was
like a little apartment. There was a desk, a bed, and some cozy chairs. A wrinkly-faced old man with
a gray beard and pointy ears was smiling at her.

“Is this . . . are you Fresnel Goodglass? I’m Laurie. I have a package for
you.”

“Yes, it is! Yes, I am! Yes, you are! And thank you!” the man said, taking the
package. “Welcome to my Floating Lighthouse. What do you think?”

“This isn’t a
lighthouse
,” Laurie said, testing the
woven floor with her foot before getting off the elevator. “It’s a
balloon!”

“Sure, it’s a lighthouse. In balloon form. See the big light up there?”
Fresnel asked. There was indeed a big lighthouse light hanging over them.

“But where’s the long twisty staircase?” Laurie asked.

“There is the elevator instead. Easier for my old bones.”

“What about the lighthouse keeper’s room?”

“You can just look over the side of the basket.”

“And the tower?”

“Don’t need it! Inessential!” Fresnel said. “The essential part of a
lighthouse is the
light
, not the house.”

Laurie wasn’t convinced. “You can’t just stick a light on a balloon and call
it a lighthouse.”

“I can’t?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because . . . it’s cheating,” she said.

“Hmm. I think I see your point,” Fresnel agreed. “But as long as it works,
the name doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does!”

“Maybe you’re right,” he agreed again. “But I am a terrible host! You
must be thirsty after all that walking. Would you like some water?” Fresnel offered her a
pitcher and glassware on a tray.

“Oh yes, please.” Laurie took a cup and tried to fill it. The water splashed onto
her shoes.

“
Hey!
This cup has no bottom!”

“That’s not a cup, dear child. It’s a glass,” he said.

“This
glass
has no bottom. How am I supposed to drink out of
it?”

“On second thought, that’s not properly a glass,” said Fresnel.
“It’s a mug. See the handle?”

“Okay, this
mug
has—”

“On third thought,” he said, stroking his beard, “it’s made of glass,
but also has a handle. So perhaps we should call it a glass-mug, or a mug-glass . . .”

“I don’t care what you
call
it!” Laurie yelled.
“It’s
got no bottom
and the water . . . I mean, um, you called it a
glass, but it doesn’t have . . . oh.” She turned bright red.

Fresnel handed Laurie another mug-glass-cup. “You’re right again. Things are what
they are, no matter what names people give them.”

“But aren’t names important?” Laurie asked, checking her new glass-cup-mug
carefully for holes. Luckily, this one had a bottom.

“Names go only so far. And many names are actually the same thing in
disguise.”

“Really?”

“Surely. Are you Laurie or Lauren?”

“Well, both. But I like Laurie. When Mom is really mad, she calls me Lauren.” She
put her hands on her hips and threw her head back. “
Lauren Ipsum, come downstairs
NOW!
”

Fresnel laughed like a horse would laugh, if the horse had heard the joke. “A full name
is a powerful thing. But you’re the same person either way. And sometimes different things
have the same name. You call your mom ‘Mom,’ but I call my mom ‘Mom,’
too.”

“But I wouldn’t call
your
mom ‘Mom’!” said
Laurie.
How weird would that be?

“There you go. It’s only logical. You have to look
past
the
name to see things as they really are. That’s Fresnel’s First Law.”

“You sound just like Eponymous Bach,” Laurie said.

“Really? Well, I’m a Composer too,” said Fresnel. “I start with big
ideas and make them smaller.”

“Make them smaller? Why?”

“Why not? Only people with small minds think Big Problems need Big Ideas.”

Laurie wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “How do you make an idea
smaller?”

“By
De
composing. How would you talk about a lighthouse without
using the word
lighthouse
?”

“Well, it’s a tall white tower near the sea, with a room full of windows at the
top, and a big light on top of that, and a long twisty staircase inside.”

“That’s very good,” Fresnel said. “Now look at each part and see if
it’s essential. If your tall-tower-by-the-sea-with-windows-and-big-light-and-staircase were
pink
, would it work just the same?”