Parallel (Travelers Series Book 1)

by Claudia Lefeve

  Sensing my presence, she turns around in time to catch me studying her. I’m not spying, just keenly interested in what she’s doing. Who knew my aunt was up to date on all this computer stuff? Most adults I come in contact with are still trying to figure out PayPal and online banking. And here she is, effortlessly designing graphics, not to mention coordinating travel jumps in her spare time. I’m suddenly struck with a sense of pride towards my aunt.

  “Etta.” She greets me and motions for me to join her at the desk. “Do you want to see something?”

  “Sure.” I pull up one of the side chairs by the desk and sit next to her, getting a full view of the computer screen.

  “Would you like to see how I arrange travels?”

  “You can do that? Show me, I mean.” This goes way beyond cool. My aunt seems pretty open minded about sharing information about the whole traveling to other dimensions. Which is more than I can say for Cooper. He didn’t even text me back last night.

  She exits out of her current program and quickly opens up another one. “Here, let me show you a hypothetical jump.” In a few short key strokes she’s constructed a chart. “Let’s pick a date in the future to plan our make-believe jump.”

  “How about my birthday?”

  “Perfect! May twenty-fifth.” Aunt Maggie doesn’t even bother to wait to see if she got the date right and begins to type in the date. Aside from my birth date, she also enters the following day, May twenty-sixth.

  I can’t believe she’s really going to show me how all this works. My aunt just earned herself a month’s worth of slave labor from yours truly and I tell her as much.

  “Nonsense. Your father introduced you to this world; you ought to at least know how it works.” Aunt Maggie shakes her head as she hacks away at the keyboard. “Sometimes I wonder about my brother.”

  “That’s pretty cool.” I watch as a pentagram begins to take shape on the screen.

  “Now, see the dates at the bottom of the pentagram?” She asks, making sure I’m paying attention. “Good. These are our going to be our travel dates. The subsequent dates on the other points of the pentagram are the returns, with the top point representing your constant, see?”

  I nod my head again to show I understand.

  “Okay, now take a look at the lines.” She makes a trail with her finger along the computer screen. “These represent our destination jumps. Each corresponds with arrival and departure jumps.”

  I’m surprised to find it’s really rather simple once she explains it. I could probably come up with a similar chart using Word or something. “That’s it?”

  Aunt Maggie shoots me a knowing smile. “Of course not. That’s the easy part.”

  That figures. “If there are only two dates, why are there five points for each jump?” Each of the two lines had five separate points, with lines connecting them together, similar to the main pentagon frame.

  “Those are the available open windows for each of those days,” she explains. “Travelers may end up at a different location from where they originally jumped and need another window to access the portal back. The points you see are the variable windows.”

  “So what if they need to stay longer or something happens that prevents them from leaving on their designated day?”

  “Each traveler is assigned their own device to make changes for departures and in some cases, arrivals.”

  That’s why Cooper was so insistent on bringing me back that day. He already had a scheduled opening for us to jump to this reality. “Okay, so now that you have the dates and stuff, what’s left?”

  “It’s all plugged into a system your father developed. Once everything is configured, it goes through a process of probabilities and sequences to determine optimum windows,” she goes on. “I’m afraid that part is a little more complicated, but I can show you if you’d like.”

  “That’s okay, I get the picture. So who are these traveler people?”

  Aunt Maggie studies me, debating on whether or not to continue. “Travelers are a very select group of individuals that were specifically trained to jump between realities. It’s not something you sign up for. You’re chosen.”

  “And I bet it all leads back to my dad.”

  She sighs. “Yes, I suppose it does, I’m afraid.”

  “So why do you think I was brought back to this reality?”

  Aunt Maggie looks thoughtful for a moment. “I wish I could answer that for you, but I don’t even know why your father sent you away in the first place. If he had bothered to confide in me, I’d be better equipped to help you figure things out.”

  “I think my being here may have something to do with dad’s disappearance.”

  “It’s quite possible, dear,” she says. “I just wish I knew more.”

  “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? I mean, by not calling the cops?”

  My aunt gives a frustrated sigh. “I’d like think I know you father well and if he says not to contact them, then I guess we have to respect that. He has his reasons.”

  I’m sure that’s why Cooper hasn’t had me call them by now. My dad must have some serious research he doesn’t want the cops asking too many questions about.

  “Okay, we won’t call them.”

  Knowing I’m not going to get any more answers on the subject, I steer the conversation back to a topic my aunt does know something about. “So can anyone go through these portals? I mean, what if someone is walking along, minding their own business, and happens to pass through one of those?”

  “Highly unlikely. Do you know who Stephen Hawking is dear?”

  I may stand a good chance of failing physics this year, but I know who the genius physicist is. “Yeah, the guy in the wheelchair.”

  “Good. Well, he theorizes that billions of parallel universes are connected by wormholes—don’t worry, I’m not going to go into a lesson on wave functions,” she says noting my expression. “Basically, the premise is simple: of all the universes, ours is the most likely, but certainly not the only one.”

  “How does that answer my question?”

  “Well, if each parallel universe is connected by a wormhole, or portal if you will, the actual connection is extremely small. However, there are opportunities for larger windows to allow passage. That’s where your father’s program comes in. So while it is improbable for someone to find themselves at the other end of an alternate universe, travelers are able to pass through successfully.”

  “Guess that’s why they’re a select group, huh,” I say.

  “You catch on fast, dear.” She kisses the top of my head. “Now, how about some breakfast?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Painted Ladies

  Sunday is the only day of the week that actually makes me believe there’s some sort of distortion in the space time continuum. You can always count on weekdays to follow a normal time pattern, Saturday seems to run on forever, but on Sunday, the hours are set on warp speed. One minute, you’re enjoying Sunday brunch, then bam, you’re suddenly cursing your alarm clock on Monday morning, ready to start the week all over again.

  I’m in a sullen mood by the time I wake up—no surprises there. Cooper didn’t respond to my text until earlier this morning. Once again I was awakened by the beeping of my cell when his text came through. I have to figure out how to silence the damn thing before I go to bed at night. I had plans to veg out in front of the TV all day, but apparently Cooper has another idea in mind.

  Cooper: I’ll be over later this morning. Wear something comfortable.

  Etta: What are we doing?

  Cooper: Going back to the basics. It’s training day.

  Etta: Okay. What time?

  Cooper: Let’s shoot for 11am.

  So, after I inform Aunt Maggie that Cooper is coming over after breakfast, I wolf down a massive plate of pancakes—I’m so going to gain about twenty pounds by the end of the month if she keeps feeding me like this—and head outside to meet Cooper for what he’s dubbed ‘train
ing day’. I have no idea what this means, but I liken it to something out of the Karate Kid. Not the new one with Will Smith’s son, but the Ralph Macchio version. Although I’m sure the analogy would probably be lost on anyone else. I don’t think that movie was made in this reality either.

  Cooper shows up a couple minutes early and waits for me out back on the deck. “A beautiful day to train, don’t you think?”

  “That depends. What kind of training are we doing? And why are we outside?” I can’t imagine my training has anything to do with exercise. I’m a total couch potato and if he thinks we’ll start the day by running ten miles, he’s sadly mistaken.

  He straightens up. “Nature is still the cornerstone of our abilities. Our powers rest on the balance of all things living,” he explains. “That is why you are able to control a person’s actions with your thoughts. We have the power to control the body as well as natural elements.”

  “You never told me how you ended up with telepathic powers. Hey—were you one of my dad’s test subjects?” It would be too coincidental if he wasn’t. The only logical explanation is that we both were subjected to the drug trials.

  “Ah, another story for another day,” he says mysteriously. “So you found out about that huh.”

  I don’t see any reason why I can’t, so I tell him about my conversation with Aunt Maggie. “Yeah, my aunt told me. She knows by the way.”

  “I guess your aunt would know about your father’s research.”

  “I’m kinda glad she knows, you know? Now I don’t have to keep secrets from her. It’s not like you’re always around to talk to anyway.”

  “Touché.”

  “So we’re out here for what exactly?” I ask.

  “Well, you’ve already proven that you can make the human body do things by wishing them to happen—”

  Yeah, and I ended up killing a man. My mind flashes back to Lester. Then I remember that by me leaving, everything reverted back to the way things were before I arrived in that reality. I realize he’s no longer six feet under. But I imagine it’s only a matter of time before he’ll be paying for his sins.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Cooper says. “But since you brought it up, I think you’ve mastered the art of manipulating the human mind. Now you just have to focus on living things that aren’t persuaded or governed by thought.”

  Embarrassed that he read my thoughts again, I can feel my face turn warm. I think I know where he’s going with this. “Like plants and trees.”

  “Exactly. People can be easily influenced when we use our powers, but it’s much harder to control living vegetation, animals, and insects. Even though you’d think they would be the easiest to control, it’s actually much harder. They’re living, but they don’t have minds to bend.”

  “What about the incident with Jenny’s lunch tray? And the pool chair?” After seeing his puzzled expression, I explain the encounters I had with Jenny. Those weren’t living breathing things, they were inanimate objects.

  “Really? You did that? I’m impressed,” he chuckles. “Objects, much like people, are the easiest to manipulate. Think of it this way, objects are created by humans to be used by humans, therefore objects are the easiest of things to control.”

  “How do you know all this stuff?” Cooper talks like he could give a presentation on telekinesis to the local psychic women’s group.

  “Oh no, today is about you,” he says, bringing us back to the topic at hand.

  I’m beginning to regret contacting Cooper. He’s so frustrating! Now I’m certain he’s keeping things from me on purpose. If the circumstances had been different, I wonder if my dad would have shown me how to use my powers. At this point, anything is better than having Cooper teach me.

  “I’m sure he would have.” He sounds hurt upon hearing my thoughts.

  Stop reading my thoughts.

  “Sorry. Your mind is wide open right now,” he points out. “To be honest, it’s not often I can read your thoughts. You usually keep yourself pretty guarded.”

  I think about that for a moment and shrug. “When you come from a world where you’re shuffled around from family to family, and some of them not very nice, you kind of have to.”

  “Good point.”

  “Okay, so now that I know why we’re out here, what is it you expect me to do exactly?”

  “We’re going to work on your psychokinetic skills. The little stunt at lunch and at the pool shows you have the power to manipulate inanimate objects, so we are going to strengthen that power. Seems to me you came upon it fairly easy, channeling your frustration towards Jenny to make those objects move, but now we’re going to get you to move things by utilizing control versus emotions,” he explains. “You’re going to dance.”

  “Excuse me? You don’t call for days and you expect me to dance with you?” He has a lot of nerve, coming over after days of not hearing from him.

  “What, too soon?” Cooper teases. “Besides, I’m not offering. You are going to choreograph a rather difficult, but most magnificent dance. You’re going to call upon the Painted Ladies.”

  “Who?” Why am I even amazed anymore? Fine. If Cooper says I’m going to dance with some old ladies, then so be it.

  “You should spend more time in your garden,” he chides in a mock tone. “Painted Ladies are butterflies.”

  I snort. “You expect me to gather a bunch of butterflies? I’d have an easier time catching bees with my body covered in honey.”

  He eyes me up and down with a wicked grin. “Unless that’s an invitation for me to smear your body with honey, I’d stay clear of comments like that. I’m likely to take you up on it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I muffle a giggle. As soon as the visual pops in my head, I quickly dismiss it. I’ll just bet Cooper is poking around in my head trying to figure out what I’m thinking. “So how do you expect me to get these butterflies to come to me? I don’t even see any around.”

  “You know what your problem is?”

  “I didn’t make time to eat my Wheaties?”

  “Funny, but no. You lack confidence, darlin’.”

  Hey! I have plenty of self-confidence. Is it my imagination or did I or did I not stand up to Jenny and her merry band of the Future Trophy Wives of America at the pool party? My confidence might be lacking in areas, but only when it comes to guys, but what teenage girl’s isn’t?

  “I think you’re being overly dramatic,” I say to Cooper. “And my name’s Etta, not darling.”

  “We’re going to work together on this. I’m going to call them and you’re going to make them dance.”

  “Why are we doing this anyway?”

  “Because you need to learn how to use your abilities. You were right, what you said before. I’m not always going to be around and if your father’s disappearance is any indication, you might be next, darlin’. And the only defense you have is your power.”

  Cooper has a point. If someone does find out I’m back, I could be in some serious trouble. At the very least I can learn to control my powers better so I don’t accidentally hurt anyone. “Okay then, shall we dance?”

  “I’d thought you’d never ask.” He smiled.

  Cooper centers himself in the middle of the backyard and closes his eyes. After a few minutes, I tire of waiting—nothing’s happening. He continues to stand there motionless, like he’s in some other place, almost Zen-like. I can tell he’s concentrating, but I don’t see any butterflies coming toward us. This is a complete waste of time. It’s probably too early in the spring for butterflies to be out and about.

  Then I feel something flutter against my arm—a butterfly. Several more glide by and hover around Cooper. He opens his eyes, while his body remains fixed in the center of the yard. “Now that I’ve called them here, I want you to make them dance.”

  “Coop, I have no idea how to do this.” What does he expect me to do? I don’t know how my power works. Sure, I can make Jenny’s life a living hell, but I
can’t just make butterflies perform at will. Can I?

  I watch the butterflies crowd around Cooper, there has to be at least thirty of them now—how the hell did he do that? I close my eyes and think of a spiral. My mind stays focused on the image. I open up my right eye and peek to see what they’re doing. Nothing. They’re still fluttering around Cooper. I quickly shut my eye back up and think of the spiral I have created in my head. Cooper’s not saying anything, so I know whatever it is I’m doing isn’t working.

  “It’s not enough to visualize it. You have to force it to happen.”

  Ya think? “Ralph Macchio had it easy. He only had to learn that stupid crane move,” I mutter under my breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

  I rid myself of every thought that’s going through my head and I picture the spiral once more. This time, I don’t just imagine it; I actually make it turn in my mind. My body goes rigid as I continue to focus. Turn. The spiral rotates up with no immediate end—an infinite swirling corkscrew. It feels like I’m really rotating it, like a spin-top. Just turn.

  “Etta,” Cooper whispers in awe.

  Oblivious to everything around me I hear, “How magnificent!” and “You did it!” all at once. I open my eyes and discover a giant swirl of Painted Ladies spiraling around Cooper, just as Maggie rushes behind me and grabs hold of my shoulders.

  “What in the world,” Maggie exhales in my ear. “Etta, did you do this?”

  I momentarily lose focus and when I turn to address my aunt, the butterflies flutter away.

  Cooper waits until the last Painted Lady exits the backyard and strolls over to us. “Not bad for a newbie, huh?”

  “It was enchanting,” Aunt Maggie breathes. “Did you show Etta how to do this?”

  “Only the basics ma’am. It was all Etta.”