The Glass Marble
Oliver finished building his time machine on Sunday evening. He made it using an old slide projector, a vintage Roberts radio, and a battered wind-up alarm clock hed found in his grandmothers attic, all tucked away in a dusty suitcase.
The design was simple: the radio and clock, joined together with a few wires, were connected to the old projector. When Oliver switched the projector on, the radio squawked and fizzed, the clock ticked furiously, trembling on the desk, and a beam of bright light leapt from the chunky lens. That was the moment. Oliver would hold up the vibrant, translucent green pebble hed found last summer while swimming in the towns lake, right up to the light. The beam would shift into shimmering shades of emerald, and on the wallpaper, a patch of frost and turquoise whirlwinds began whirling around.
Oliver wanted to try his invention there and then. But it was late, the sky beyond the window in St Albans was dark, the clock showed nearly eleven, and his mum sent him straight to bed.
The following day at school, during maths, Oliver couldnt help sharing his secret. He told his best mate, Harry, all about the time machine. Harry fixed him with his cherry-dark eyes, shaking his head doubtfully as Oliver described his excitement. Oliver became more and more animated, his face turning red, arms waving, voice rising above a whisper. Harry retorted, half-yelling himself, saying it was ridiculoushis dad, a lorry driver, said time travel was impossible.
Their classmates started turning around to see what the fuss was about, and Miss Nelly Wilson, their kindly teacher, wagged her finger at them with a gentle frown. The boys hushed, but as soon as the bell rang, they bolted for the playground and found refuge under the ancient lime tree, resuming their debate.
“If you dont believe me, come and see for yourself,” Oliver waved towards the school gate.
“Course I dont,” Harry snorted. “Time travel! My dad says no one with any sense believes that rubbish.”
Oliver bristled; arguing with Harrys dads authority was pointless. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he turned to leave, but a cool, calm voice stopped him:
“I believe you.”
They spun round. There stood Emily, twisting a button on her crisp white school blouse, schoolbag hanging from her other hand.
“What do you want?” Harry deepened his scowl. “Cant you see were talking?”
“I heard everything,” Emily replied, pointedly ignoring Harry and fixing her eyes on Oliver. “A time machine is the most fascinating thing! Imagine visiting the past, or flying into the future. Take me with youplease.”
She flashed a wide, hopeful smile.
“We cant go into the future,” Oliver smiled back. “It hasnt happened yet, you know. But yeslets take a trip!”
They ambled to the gate, and after a few minutes, echoing footsteps caught up with them. Harry arrived, red-faced and puffing.
“Alright, you talked me round. Lets go,” he said, catching his breath.
When they arrived home, Olivers mum greeted them at the door.
“Oh, you brought friends!” she ruffled Oliver’s hair, making him blush and duck away. “Come in, all of you. Dinners nearly ready.”
“Mum!” Oliver groaned. “We’re not hungry!”
He looked at his friends, hoping for support, but Harry just toed the carpet and Emily only managed a bashful smile.
“Hands washed, then to the table,” Mum said with the commanding tone that brooked no argument.
After lunch, they made for Olivers room. There on the desk, surrounded by a globe, a laptop, a phone charger, stacks of paper, pencils, pens, rulers, and all the essential bits and bobs a teenager might need, sat the time machine.
“Impressive bit of kit,” Harry muttered with admiration, examining it closely. “You made this yourself?”
“Sure did,” Oliver said, swelling with pride.
“So, where are we heading?” Emily peered closer.
“Just a tick,” Oliver replied, fiddling with the radio dial, winding the alarm clock, and adjusting the projector lens. “Rightlooks like well be landing in nineteen eighty-five. Forty years in the past.”
“How exciting!” Emily clapped her hands. “When do we go? Lets do it now!”
“Hang on,” Harry frowned. “How does this actually work?”
“Simple as pie,” Oliver answered, a little haughtily. “Set the dial, wind the timer, switch on the projector but this is the crucial part,” he pulled out the green pebble, “hold this up to the beam. A door appears on the wall, andpoof!we’re back in time!”
He performed a little bow.
“Don’t panic,” Oliver added, seeing Harrys doubtful expression. “Ive prepared. Look”
He rummaged in his bag and produced a bulging zip-lock bag of coins.
“Old pound coins,” explained Oliver. “Should do the trick.”
“Thats not whats worrying me,” Harry grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “How do we get home? Are we dragging your contraption all the way?”
“Its even easier to get back,” Oliver assured him. “Watchgrab any smartphone,” he waved his mobile, “switch to night mode video, hold the stone in front of the torch, shine the light, portal appears andhere we are!”
Harry examined the pebble sceptically for a few moments, then nodded. “Fine. Lets try it.”
Oliver looked round at his friends. “Ready?”
When Emily nodded, he placed his phone on the desk and plugged in the projector.
A low buzzing filled the room; the radio crackled, the clock ticked and shuddered, and a glowing beam burst from the lens. Oliver lifted the green stone, and the emerald colours flickered. On the wall, snowflakes and teal whirlwinds spun.
“Lets go!” Oliver shouted, grabbing his friends by the hands and stepping into the green portal.
***
They found themselves in a wood, under towering Scots pines, the leaves of birch and aspen trembling above them. Birds chattered in the branches, and something small rustled in a clump of bracken.
“Greatnow where are we?” Harry grumbled.
Oliver scanned their surroundings anxiously for a moment, then grinned as the hum of an old engine reached his ears.
“I know exactly where we are! Were at Horseshoe Hillthats near my gran and granddads place or was or will be, I suppose. Come on, lets go!”
They meandered along winding trails until the trees gave way to a playgroup.
“I know this place!” Emily cried. “Thats the Golden Key Nursery. Beyond itisnt that the old four-storey school?”
“Yeah!” Harry chimed in. “And over there, thats the park. If we really are back in 85, there should be a bunch of rides my dad told me about.”
“Lets see!” Oliver grinned.
They marched towards the park, pointing out differences: “Theres no tower block!” “The bus stops made of wood!” “Look at the girls hairso strange!”
Everything seemed brighter, more colourful than the grainy photos or TV shows suggested. Life in mid-80s England wasnt dull at allit bustled and sparkled, despite the fewer cars and unfamiliar fashions. And the battered old buses and trucks were painted every colour of the rainbow. The children, used to dull silver, navy, and occasional red cars, goggled at candy-blue saloons and orange buses.
The park was different, too. Instead of neatly paved paths and fancy playgrounds, there were proper fairground rides. Their eyes widenedwhere they came from, you had to go to London for a go on a real merry-go-round!
Loitering beside a knackered roundabout with scarlet seats was a local lad. Oliver whispered: “Lookone of the natives!”
He had a tangle of sandy hair, a nose peppered with freckles, blue eyes, a blue-checked short-sleeved shirt with epaulettes, grey trousers, and scruffy trainers. Pinned to his pocket was a gold smiling teddy with Olympic ringsa badge from the Moscow Games. He looked their ageabout twelve.
“Hiare you lot not from around here?” the boys voice was cheerful and clear. “You coming on? They wont let me have a go alonehave to be at least four, apparently. There’s no one about, Monday and all that.”
“Definitely!” Oliver nodded firmly.
“Brilliant! Im Barney,” he offered a skinny hand. “Barney Taylor. Local boy, go to the school down the road. You?”
“Were,” Oliver began, but Harry interrupted, sticking out his own hand.
“From another town,” he said. “Im Harry, thats Emily, and this is Oliver.”
“Thought so,” Barney grinned, shaking each hand. “Your clothes are cool! Dont you mind them getting mucky?”
“Its just what we wear to school,” Emily inspected her skirt. “Whats so unusual?”
“Suppose,” nodded Barney. “Come onlets ride!”
Over the next two hours, the children tried out every attraction: the rickety Rocket, the dizzy Surprise, the whirling Dodgems, and the wobbly Crazy Coaster. They did each one at least six times. Barney insisted on paying for everythingwhen Oliver tried to hand him some coins, he laughed it off.
“Collected bottles for the refund,” Barney explained.
“You what?” Harry asked incredulously.
“Every empty pop or milk bottles worth a few pence,” Barney shrugged. “Dont you do that?”
Emily smiled. “Not really,” she said thoughtfully.
Eventually, parched from all the excitement, they collapsed on a nearby bench.
“I need a drink,” Harry moaned.
“Why not get one from the pump?” Barney nodded towards a blue iron water fountain.
“Whats that?” Oliver blinked.
“Water pumpcome on, Ill show you,” Barney led the way and pressed the handle. Ice-cold water gushed out. Barney was first to gulp the sparkling, fizzy-tasting waterit was so cold it hurt your teeth and made your head ache.
“Delicious!” Oliver beamed.
“So cold,” Harry shivered.
But Emily mumbled something about germs and declined.
“I could do with some lunch,” she declared. “Pizza or a hot dog”
“And some crisps and Coke!” Harry chimed in.
“Theres none of that here,” Oliver cut them off, turning to Barney. “Where can we find something to eat?”
“Theres a bakery round the corner,” Barney replied. “Ill nip over.”
“Please, Barney,” Emily pleaded, folding her hands dramatically.
He blushed, said he didnt mind, and dashed off, his white-soled trainers flashing. He returned twenty minutes later with a colourful cloth bag.
“Sorry, no pizza or hot dogs,” he said, “but I got pastriestwo each, with potato or jamand some milk. No lemonade, Im afraid.”
Sitting on the lush grass by the sparkling lake, tucking into warm pastries and glugging milk from glass bottles, they agreed nothing had ever tasted better. Emily, used to pizza and hot dogs, marvelled at how delicious simple jam turnovers could be.
“Thanks, Barney,” she said earnestly.
He flushed even deeper. “No problem,” he muttered.
They gazed at the ripples on the lake while the boys competed to see whose pebbles made the most skips across the water.
Barney and Emily sat quietly for a while. Then Barney looked down, speaking barely above a whisper.
“Youve got lovely eyes,” he said, nervously fidgeting with the grass.
“Pardon?” Emily asked, though shed heard perfectlyjust hoping to hear it again.
“Your eyesthey remind me of marbles,” Barney looked straight at her. “Shiny green glass marbles.”
“What!? Oi! Wellhow rude! My eyes are not”
“No, thats not what I meant,” Barney raised his hands to placate her. He opened his palm and showed her a little glass marble, soft green, flecked with tiny bubbles.
“Take it,” he murmured.
Emily hesitated, then accepted the marble.
“Dont worry,” Barney said gently. “Hold it right to your eyeyoull see the whole universe.”
She peered through it. Inside the swirling green were bubblestiny constellations, with a miniature sun orbited by planets, spiralling galaxies at the far edge. She felt herself tumbling through space.
“Its wonderful,” she breathed.
“Thats what your eyes are like,” Barney whispered, his face close. “If you look deep enough, you find stars and planets and galaxies in them.”
Their eyes met. For a heartbeat, the world shrank to the bench, the marble, and them.
Then, from behind”Mine did more skips!” Oliver called.
“No way!” Harry drew near. “Emily, Barneysettle this!”
Emily blushed and looked away, Barneys cheeks pink as well.
“Lets go get ice cream,” Barney said to break the awkward silence.
“Yes!” Harry agreed enthusiastically.
The local ice cream parlour was cool and dark. “My treat this time,” Oliver insisted. They each picked a flavour. Emily hesitatedBarney quietly suggested she try chocolate.
She met his eyes and nodded.
The plump lady behind the counter, hair in neat curls under a white cap, handed each of them a silver dish piled high with ice cream.
They gobbled up one, then another, then another. As they tucked into their fourth bowl, a gruff voice broke in, and a heavy hand landed on Olivers shoulder.
“Tell me, son,” thundered a man in a grey uniform and cap with a red bandan honest-to-goodness English copper. He held a fifty-pence coin. “Where did you get this coin?”
Oliver froze, heart pounding. Barney, eyeing the coin, realised at oncebeneath the “50” and “pence” was the date 1990.
“Thats not ours!” Barney piped up. “We didnt have big coins like thatjust tens, sometimes fifteens This lady must have mixed it up.”
“You cheeky so-and-so!” the lady at the till shrieked, grabbing a dishcloth and making for them.
“Steady there, missus,” the policeman tried to calm her, but her protests grew louder. As he struggled to reason with her, the coin slipped from his hand and rolled straight to Barney, who snatched it.
“Run!”
None of them needed telling twice. In an instant, they were haring down the street. Shouts rang out, cars honked as they dashed across the road, and dogs barked in the wake of their flight. At length, breathless, they ducked into an oak copse far from the chaos.
“Think we lost them,” Harry gasped. “Out with the phone, Oliverlets head home.”
Oliver clapped his pockets frantically. “Oh no,” he muttered, wide-eyed. “I think I left it back on my desk”
“Oh no? I think? You’re useless,” Harry mimicked him. “Give us your phone, then! Any will do.”
“I haven’t got one,” Harry scowled.
“Seriously? How do you cope?” Oliver demanded.
Harry rolled up his sleeve to show his bright yellow childrens smartwatch blinking with a pixelated cat.
“Mums orders,” he said sourly. “She took away my phone after you talked me into bringing frogs into our bath! Whose idea was that?”
“Boys, dont argue,” Emily interrupted, searching her bag. After a moment, her face fell.
“Oh, I must have dropped mine while we were running,” she said.
Harry slumped to the ground, groaning. “Why did I ever join this adventure?”
Suddenly, the bushes snapped behind them. Hearts pounding, they relaxed when Barney appeared, hair wild, one epaulette flapping.
He caught his breath, then stepped over to Emily.
“Hereyou dropped this scaling the nursery fence,” he said, handing her a phone.
“Barney”
“Its alright,” he soothed her. “I worked out youre not really from here. I saw a movie once”
A hush fell.
“Barney” Oliver started.
“Its fine,” Barney smiled sadly, gazing at Emily. She looked back, barely moving her lips as if to say something.
Meanwhile, Oliver had set up the phone. “Harry, Emily. Ready? Its time.”
Harry came up first, hand clapping Olivers shoulder.
“Emily! We must go!” he nagged.
Emily stepped closer to Barney, hand outstretched.
“Goodbye,” she said softly.
Barney said nothing. He just pressed something into her palm. The marble.
“Why?” she whispered.
“So youll remember,” he mouthed.
“Emily!” Harry called.
But Oliver took her hand, and she didn’t resist. She barely noticed as Oliver activated the torch and the green pebble, or as a swirling emerald portal flickered open. All she saw was Barneys blue-checked shirt, his honest blue eyes, and the little Olympic bear badge.
***
At home, Barney slipped through the door.
“Barney, shall I dish up dinner, or wait for Dad?” Mum called from the kitchen, wiping her hands.
“Nah, Mum, not hungry. We had pastries by the lake with friends,” he said, dropping his arms around her.
She smiled, fussed with his hair, and sighed, “Haircut due soon.”
Barney nodded, going to his room. He rifled through his desk drawers, not finding what he was looking for. He sat at his desk, staring into the sunsetsoft May dusk settling over the rooftops. Downstairs, kids shouted at football; outside, the moon was rising.
“Lizzie!” Barney called to his little sister.
“What?” she came in, clutching her new doll.
“Have you got a spare sketchbook and some coloured pencils?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Just want to draw,” he said quietly.
“Theyre in my drawer,” she shrugged.
Barney found her pencils and a pad with a paper boat on the cover. On the first page, he paused, then began sketching: wavy dark hair, an oval face with dimplesand green eyes, flecked with specks and lines, just like the glass marble, with galaxies spinning inside.
***
The next day at the wall after school, the friends recapped their adventure.
“Those rides were class!” Oliver declared.
“And the ice creambest Ive ever had!” Harry agreed. “Should we try again?”
Oliver frowned. “No can do. Mum saw the projector sparking, scared shed lose the house to a fire, chucked the whole thing out. Shame”
Harry sighed. “Id love to see Barney again. He was brilliant, wasnt he?”
Barney Oliver echoed the name, a distant look in his eyes. “Barney Taylor. Why does that name nag at me?”
He dug out his phone, swiping frantically. “Waityes! I knew it!”
He read aloud: “Barnaby Nicholas Taylor. Born in St Albans. One of the most talented British artists of his time. Known for such paintings as Lunch by the Lake, Fairground Memories, Chocolate Ice Cream, and Fifty Pence. But his most famous workthe painting The Green-Eyed Stranger. Lets find the image…”
Harry leaned over. “Blimey,” he murmured. “Emily, you need to see this.”
Emily snatched the phone. There, on the screen, was herself: her dark hair, her nose, her dimples, the slight mischievous smile she saw every morning in the mirror. She returned the phone without a word.
“He really was something, our friend from the past,” Harry said softly.
“Can we visit him?” Emily whispered.
Oliver shook his head, voice sombre. “It says Barnaby Taylor died in a car accident five years ago. Since then, his paintings have become some of the most sought-after in Europe”
But Emily barely heard him. All she could think of was the sincere boy in the blue-checked shirt with the golden bear. She wept quietly, clutching the glass marble, whichif you held it closeshowed all the planets, stars, and galaxies in the universe.
And she knew, though their stories had crossed just once, that small moments of kindness and truth could last a lifetimesometimes all it took was a shared marble and an honest word to leave a universe in someones heart.
