Olivia Tracey

Ms. Levesque

Communications

8 January 2018

A Change Forever

My foot slipped out from under me as a wooden tile broke free and slid off of the roof. I

reached hurriedly for the window sill grabbing it just in time to regain my balance. Grunting

under my breath as I pulled myself up, I putting myself next to the only window sill on the

second floor . I peeked into the small, bland room. No one there. I reached into my pocket and

pulled out my grandfather’s watch. The copper, gold surrounding the small clock glistened in the

sun. I squinted down. Almost time. Looking cautiously into the room, I heard murmured voices

coming from the old, wooden stairway.

A couple of months ago as I was walking home from my grocery run, I saw a poster that

was astonishing plastered onto a brick wall. When I read that “The World’s Greatest Invention”

was being shown in the room above the town’s jeweler, I had to go. There was only one

problem. I couldn’t pay the entrance fee, which is why I am currently squatting outside the

window of the jewelers, two stories up.

As more people filed into the room, the subtle chatter grew louder and louder. The wood

seemed to settle and creak beneath the town's people’s feet. Anyone could easily tell the

atmosphere was starting to reach a level of uncomfortability because of how crowded the small,

attic-like space was.

 The excessive speech halted suddenly, when slow, heavy footsteps climbed the steep

stairs. A young, slender, man dressed in a black suit and elegant top hat approached the top of

the stairs. A cloud of smoke surrounded him as he took a long drag of breath from the log

colored cigar. He stopped for a brief moment at the top of the stairs, his eyes glancing around the

room, landing on each and every one of the faces. A mischievous grin creeped onto his face as he

nodded his head towards the anxious crowd.

Every single person watched attentively as the strange man set down a delicate looking

machine. He snatched the wires connected to the odd object, and clamped one of the wires onto

the top of a lamp. As he turned around, he chuckled to himself, seeing the puzzled expressions of

the town’s people's faces. He spoke out to the crowd noticing a tinge of concern in their faces.

“Don’t worry, it’s all safe.”

The audience seemed to relax and release some tension at the sound of the young man’s

voice. When the tall figure started to make his way to the window I panicked. Horrible scenarios

started to run through my head. He would push me off of the roof, or I would be arrested. He

neared the window. I swung away from the edge of the window, clasping onto the outside of the

building and froze.

The next thing I heard was the squeaky window being opened with struggle. I turned my

head slowly. My stomach filled with butterflies, and I started to sweat nervously. My eyes fell

onto a long arm reaching out the window. I was able to see him attaching a cable onto the trolley

wire, now his whole torso out the window. I squinted in question at the odd sight. The well

dressed man grunted as he re-positioned himself using the chipped window sill. He slowly

lowered himself from inside the building, to fit back in through the small, square window. As he
twisted his head to the right, preparing to pull it back into the small attic, his eyes landed on me,

and my breath stopped.

“What are you doing?” the man asked, puzzled.

I looked at my surroundings trying to picture what was going through his mind. As I

avoided eye contact with the judgemental gaze, I quietly mumbled, “I don’t know.” The man

strained his neck trying to make out my almost foreign language. “Speak up.” I could feel my

cheeks reddening from embarrassment. “Come on. Don’t be shy,” the stranger said

encouragingly.

I tried to speak more clearly, but the words still came out quiet. “I wanted to watch.” I

said, my voice fading.

The man absorbed my words showing no expression. He took a deep breath preparing to

speak. “What’s your name, son?”

I answered almost automatically without thinking, “Joshua. My name is Joshua.”

“Well Joshua, why don’t you come inside.” As I climbed in through the window without

trouble, I could almost feel the cold eyes staring right at me. I looked down at my clothes. They

didn’t consist of much, mostly old, dirty, barn rags sewn together to make out the form of my

skinny figure. I glanced back up at the crowd, dressed as if they were royalty compared to me. I

grinned politely, or so I hoped.

I moved out of the way so the strangely kind man was able to step into the room. After he

was standing, I turned to face him. He cleared his throat softly before saying, “Hello ladies and

gentlemen. My name is ​Charles Francis Jenkins. I have invited you here today to show you

something special. Something… magnificent. Something new. I call it a projector.”

 I turned to look at the crowd. Everyone’s eyes grew wide with excitement and curiosity.

Charles turned and grabbed a bedsheet off of the dust-covered dresser. He pinned it neatly to the

wall across from the shiny, metal machine. After walking calmly to the invention, he flipped a

switch. A bright light shined into my eyes. I squinted, and turned to face the sheet. My shadow

appeared. The crowd gasped in amazement. “No, no. That’s not the invention,” Charles said

timidly.

I turned to face him in confusion. Making eye contact with me, he requested, “Would you

mind moving out of the way, son?” I could tell he was starting to feel nervous. I quickly skirted

to the side of the light beam, afraid of being troublesome. “Sorry, ladies and gents, just one more

moment please,” he chuckled politely. Charles flipped a few more switches, adjusting certain

parts in the machine. “Alright, here we go.”

The crowd turned to face the white sheet at the front of the room. The projector began to

whirr loudly and began to vibrate. Charles began feeding in a long, strange, roll of plastic with

black lining. I tilted my head trying to understand the weird sequence of steps. Once Charles

caught me staring, he made direct eye contact with me and nodded his head toward the covered

wall. Looking back at the sheet, I waited for something to happen. And something did.

The light shining onto the sheet flickered between colors of white, black, and grey. The

crowd gasped at the sudden change. Slowly, the flashes of light picked up a consistent rhythm,

and the changes between colors began to steady slowly. It continued on like this for a while. I

could easily tell that some of the crowd members were beginning to lose interest in the plain,

static-like, sheet. Small conversations at the level of a whisper were beginning to take place. My
eyes refocused on Charles. I was hoping to catch a hint of expression, which would tell me if

something were wrong, but the only vibe he gave off was one of excitement and hopefulness.

Turning to face the screen once more, I noticed a shape begin to form on the bed sheet,

made out of the grays, blacks, and white. “Look!” I exclaimed as I pointed eagerly to the back

wall. I caught the crowd’s attention easily. More and more gasps filled the room as the shape

became clearer and began to take motion. All of us looked intensely at the strange light fixture

waiting for what was next.

Before long, the shape morphed into a young girl that appeared to be dancing. The crowd

fell silent in amazement. The girl on the screen danced so beautifully. She reminded me of a

butterfly, floating so gracefully. The girl was moving so smoothly, it was comforting. My gaze

fell onto the town’s people. The audience was astonished, and almost hypnotized as they

watched the young girl move continuously. I turned around, grinning, to look at Charles. He

continued to watch in amazement, ignoring the fact that I was staring at him. I heard him whisper

something under his breath. “Ta-da.”