Inktober 2024 - 5 - Binoculars

"Maybe you're holding them wrong," said Ernest after Gerard had been silent for a while.

Next to him in the parked car, at the wheel, Gerard let out a heavy sigh, so heavy his shoulders went up and down from the weight of it.

"How could I possibly be holding these binoculars wrong, Ernie?"

"They could be upside down."

"No, they couldn't. This is two cylinders, each containing the same number of glass discs at the same points in them, and all those discs parallel to each other and carved according to central symmetry, with the same axis as the tube they're in, to which they are perpendicular. Basically, as long as those binoculars are horizontal, they cannot be upside down."

Gerard couldn't believe he had to explain something like this, but for Ernie, he always did. His incessant albeit most of the time senseless questioning had lead them to solve more cases than any other private investigation agency in the city. And not just the currently active ones: ever. The success of their business was a team effort and Gerard would never dream of pretending otherwise, as annoying as his partner may become, sometimes.

"They could be front to back."

Gerard clicked his tongue as he lowered the binoculars from his eyes, his irritation growing.

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't notice if the binoculars were front to back?"

"Well… Did you take the cover off, then?"

"YOU took the cover off, Ern'! It's literally still in your hand!"

Ernest looked down, opened his left fist, and what do you know: the binoculars' cover was there.

"Then why aren't you seeing anything?"

"Because it's pitch black, and nothing is happening yet. The culprit is most likely still waiting to be certain the whole house is sound asleep, that's all. Just be patient."

Ernest went back to being silent for a spell, but that did not last.

"Can I have a look?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Do you remember what happened the last time you used the binoculars, Ernie?"

Ernest was thoughtful for a moment, his eyes quickly darting in all directions as he sifted through his memory. When he finally recalled what had happened, his face lit up for a second, before a pout distorted his lips.

"Well?" insisted Gerard.

"I burned one of my eyes trying to look at the Sun because I was bored."

"And?"

"And I forgot to put the cover back when I put them down to go to the bathroom, and the place we were surveilling from took fire."

"And?"

"And I burned my hand with the binoculars after I'd put out the fire."

"Right."

"It's night; nothing like that could happen now," pleaded Ernest.

Gerard considered his friend's argument for while. He was not about to look at the Moon, was he? With a resigned sigh, he handed over the binoculars, which Ernie received like a child a present on Christmas morning. Clumsy, as always, he fumbled with them for a couple of seconds before bringing them to his eyes:

"Everything always looks so weird, through binoculars…"

"Ern'…"

"Yes, Ger'?"

"You're holding them wrong."