Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay

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Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay Page 10

by Abra Ebner


  (laughter) Of course I would, I’d change just about everything, get a higher salary perhaps. But I’m off subject (pause). So after that night he stopped traveling, am I correct?

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  He knew something was wrong with him, and he knew he needed to take the time to heal. I can imagine it was hard for him to remain in one place as he did, in one time, but at least it was the right time and he was his true age.

  Agent Donnery:

  So he healed, and you two got to know each other more?

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  Yes, but I knew him based on lies, based on the man he claimed to be. He only let me in half way. It was so unfair that he knew everything about me and that I could talk to him about everything my life entailed, but he couldn’t. Well almost.

  Agent Donnery:

  Almost? What did you keep from him that he did not already know about? It’s important we learn all about his life.

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  It’s important for me, too, Agent. He was the man I loved, the man with a dark secret I never knew. I guess now I can see that he did know everything about me, but it was at least nice to hope I had a secret and my secret was the man in my dreams.

  Told by Dr. Ashcroft,

  Stories from the journals of Patient #32185

  October 1, 2005

  12:48 p.m.

  I woke as though I had fallen on a rock, bringing my hand to my head and feeling the cold sweat that covered me. I opened my eyes as they met the familiar pattern of my dorm room sheets, and I felt relieved. It must have been just another dream. I tried to think back, tried to remember what had happened, but most of it was blurry, and I felt as though my head was not yet a part of my body.

  I heard a page turn and I slowly twisted my neck to face the direction of the noise, expecting to find Amy, but my eyes instead found a man. I jumped, letting out a shrill scream as I sat up straight, covering my body with my blankets. Had I literally imagined him from my dreams to here? Or had those events in fact happened? I brought my hand to my mouth to muffle my yelp as the man looked at me with calm blue eyes, his chair situated in the middle of the room. Amy let out a snort and rolled over on her bunk, still asleep. I didn’t bother to look at Amy as my eyes stayed fixed on the man’s, too afraid that he’d disappear, or worse, kill me.

  The man made no sudden movements, blinking once with a soft smile lighting across his lips. After the initial shock subsided, I continued to stare into the eyes of the man, a feeling of calm resonating from his soul, giving me the feeling that I was safe though my conscience fought to deny that.

  “Who are you?” I barked. My mind began to remember the previous night as I looked at his green coat, memories and thoughts pouring through my already throbbing head like a movie in fast forward.

  He placed the book on my desk, and leaned back in the chair. “Do you remember anything from last night?” His voice was melodic and soft, his lips moving with such articulation that I found myself in a trance.

  I let out a sharp breath. “I…” I struggled to put the events together, remembering that I saw Max somehow, and Amy, and then him. Things were still mixing together in my head; contradicting thoughts that made me question what was real. “I’m not sure,” I finally replied.

  He took a deep breath. “You were drugged at a party. So was your friend.” He pointed toward Amy over my shoulder.

  Thoughts began to click into order, and I extracted those that were just a dream. “So that actually happened?” I brought my hand to my head and began to rub it, finding that looking at the man made it hurt, as though he had broken in and rearranged all the furniture.

  “Yes. I found your friend here first, then you.” He searched my face as though he expected me to fill in the rest of the story.

  I leaned back against the wall, my covers tucked tightly under my chin. “Yes, and Max…” I paused and he nodded as though he knew who he was beyond what had happened last night. “You know Max?” I gave him a strange look.

  He quickly shook his head, “Oh no. No, I don’t know Max, but you said his name, that’s all.”

  I nodded back. “Right, yes.” I felt my heart break then, realizing the gut feeling I’d always had about Max was true. He was a lying scumbag from the beginning, and I felt like a fool for playing along. I shuddered, the feeling of disgust making vomit well in my throat.

  “So, I guess I should get going.” He stood. “I’d hate to see what happens when she wakes up,” he turned toward Amy, and lifted one brow in a humored fashion. “She seems feisty.”

  I laughed as he forced a smile to come to my face, though my body felt weak and useless, a deep depression lingering somewhere in the distance.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay before I left. I can see now you will recover.” He clapped his hands together with a contented nod. “I have some appointments I need to get to...” his voice trailed away as he touched his side in a manner that suggested he was favoring it, and I deduced that it was a probable wound left over from last night.

  I continued to smile at him, thankful to have such a curious savior. He smiled back, watching me in a way that told me he thought I was attractive. I found that I accepted the look from him instead of repulsing it as I should have, given my situation. Was I really so flighty that I would be attracted to this stranger just hours after realizing Max and I were over? I took note of his features, his eyes like storm clouds and his brows raised and innocent, like a lost child. He looked away then, as the awkward silence grew between us.

  “Wait,” I leaned toward him. “I still don’t know your name.”

  He reached down toward his feet where he plucked a tattered bag from the floor, wincing a bit from soreness. He threw the bag onto his back. “If you guess it, then I’ll tell you.” He gave me a teasing smile.

  I pouted. “Well, that seems unfair.” Memories from last night were finally returning, and I remembered the way he had said my name as he had punched the man that drugged me. “Wait a minute…” I furrowed my brow, reliving the way his breath fell across my ear as he had spoke to me, telling me everything was alright. “How did you know my name?”

  I saw the corners of his smile fade ever so slightly, suggesting there was something he was not telling me, but then the smile quickly returned. “From class.”

  I crossed my arms against my chest. “Alright then, which class?” My nose was in the air, as a part of me was convinced he was lying.

  “Biology 101,” he challenged.

  I snorted. “Yeah right, there must be hundreds of people in that class. There is no way you’d know me.

  He pointed to my laptop bag. “It’s not like you hide it.”

  My heart sank. He was right. My mother had insisted on giving me a bag with my full name and information sewn right on the front of it, just in case it got lost. I looked down at my bag. Right there in a bright green, two inches tall for everyone to know and see was all the info he would need about me, right down to my phone number. I sighed, my cheeks blushing. “I wasn’t the one that got that put on there, if that makes this any less embarrassing.”

  He laughed again, his thin green coat accentuating his muscular chest.

  I looked away, the embarrassment growing as I realized I was flirting, not to mention gawking. Max had had a nice body, too, but he didn’t have the personality to match. “Anyway…” I paused. “So if you won’t tell me your name, then I guess that’s goodbye.”

  He began to tap his foot. “Oh come on, humor me. It’s not like I have much else to do today.” He glanced back at Amy. “We have time before she wakes. Guess my name.”

  I clasped my hands together on my lap and leaned back against the wall. “Ok, fine. I’ll guess but…” I narrowed my eyes. “If I guess in the first five, you have to take me out for coffee.”

  A half smile cut across his tanned face, a face that didn’t seem to fit at Harvard, and I began to wonder what his studies were and how it was possible that we had the same cla
ss.

  “I accept your offer then.” He shifted his weight.

  Grinning, I felt my heart leap. “Good.” I gave him a sharp nod.

  Bringing one hand to my face, I scratched my head in a dramatic fashion, analyzing his overall physique in an attempt to figure what name would best fit his personality based on looks alone. It was always a belief of mine that certain names depicted a certain person. Like take Amy, for instance. To me it seemed all Amys had a hot streak just as she did, so therefore there had to be a science to this. I tilted my head from side to side, craning my neck in order to dramatize the effect. The best part about this little game was that we could eye each other openly, the attraction between us palpable.

  A warm feeling began to fill my stomach, much as it had last night when I had seen him from across the party. I remembered how intrigued I was, and how frantic I suddenly felt, as though I needed to talk to him immediately, but about what? I looked away, feeling a lingering disturbance about the way I felt I knew him, though I could never remember meeting him; rather like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

  His smile faded as he kept his gaze on me, the tension between us growing as though I’d fallen into a trance. He drew his bag down his shoulder and placed it back on the desk chair before tucking his hands in his pockets. He took a slow step toward me, but I didn’t move. I took in every inch of his face, from his messy brown hair to his stubble, a few days overdue. He continued toward me and sat on the edge of my bed, his hands remaining in his pockets, as though telling me he was merely allowing me to look more closely.

  An image began to form in my mind then, like chalk that was slowly being drawn across a blackboard. “I think I have it,” I whispered, breaking the silence, the air around us thick like the hottest summer in Boston.

  His smile returned. “Are you so sure of yourself that you think you know on your first guess?”

  I knew he was trying to make me doubt my decision, but the image in my mind was still blaring at me, still too strong to ignore or change. “Yes.” I gave him a curt nod.

  “Well then, what is it?” he pressed, watching me.

  I looked back toward where he’d placed his tattered bag back on the floor, finding it familiar, like everything else he owned. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I already know you. Are you sure we’ve never officially met somewhere? At a party?”

  He laughed. “Well I don’t really party, so I doubt that, but…” he paused. “Then if you’ve met me, what was it I told you my name was?” He said it matter-of-factly, as though finding it interesting that I assumed so much.

  “I think your name is…” I narrowed my vision, trying to make sure what had been written across my thoughts was right. “Jordan.”

  A slow exhale left his lips, but he did not smile as I expected, and for a moment I began to feel afraid, as though I had said something wrong, like the name of a deceased relative.

  “What made you guess that?” He tilted his head.

  I shrugged as my smile faded. “I don’t know, it just fits somehow.” Relief washed over me as I saw his face relax, and then he smiled.

  “Well, I guess its coffee then.” He looked into his lap, tracing his fingers across his palm, having taken his hands out of his pockets.

  I clapped my hands together. “No way! I was right?”

  He laughed as he watched me jump with excitement.

  Amy moaned then, and I slunk back, regretting my reaction as I saw Jordan stand and walk toward his bag. “I better go,” he whispered, plucking it off the floor and fastening it to his back once more. “But I’ll see you soon, Kenzie.”

  I didn’t want him to go but I did nothing to stop him. His gaze remained locked on mine as he walked toward the door in silence, like a shadow.

  “Wait!” I threw the covers off my lap and leapt to the floor, Amy stirring now. Without a second thought I ran toward him and threw my hands around his neck, giving him a kiss on his warm cheek, his stubble tickling my lips. “Thank you,” I whispered, letting my lips graze his ear, wondering what I was doing and why I didn’t find my actions strange.

  He brought one hand up to the center of my back and pressed against it, like a man that had never been hugged before.

  I stepped back and crossed my arms against my chest. “Sorry for that, I just felt so overwhelmed by the whole thing. Thank you.”

  His face looked shocked, like a boy being kissed for the first time. “I, uh…” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat, “Uh, anytime.” He smiled one last time, his cheeks now flushed as he turned away from me and grabbed the handle. He kept his gaze locked on his feet out of embarrassment as he slid out, just in time for Amy to pop upright in bed, sweat coating her brow and her skin ash white.

  “What the hell happened?”

  Statement from Dr. Ashcroft,

  Vincent Memorial Hospital, Boston

  August 4, 2009

  02:58 a.m.

  Agent Donnery:

  You guessed his name right away?

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  Of course I did. It makes sense now why it had seemed so obvious then, and why I had felt so strongly toward him. The day we first met had left a lasting impression on my heart, if not my memory. It is my belief as a doctor that a heart can remember as well, as though it has a mind of its own. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this in the past week.

  Agent Donnery:

  I see. I can certainly believe that. The heart is a powerful thing. (pause) Do you think that your guess got him thinking about all he had done for you? Do you think he knew at that point that you actually remembered these things? And what about you? Didn’t you pick up on the signs?

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  It did get me thinking a lot, but there was no explanation that made enough sense so I dropped it. As for Jordan, I’m sure he knew something was happening between us beyond what he had anticipated. Besides, he had understood the fact that if I saw him at the party that I would follow, because of the remnants he’d left behind in my heart and memory. He used that to his advantage though he didn’t understand how or why it had worked.

  Agent Donnery:

  I guess that’s what happens. There is always going to be some un-named variable, something no one could predict. He was a Shifter, after all, and Shifters don’t exactly pass this information around.

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  Yes, exactly. He was finding this out as he went along. He had no warning or set of rules.

  Agent Donnery:

  Neither did you.

  Dr. Ashcroft:

  And even still, I don’t know much about him, so if it’s alright with you, I’d like to move on to what’s next.

  Agent Donnery:

  We’ve got all night, so by all means, go ahead.

  Stories from the journals

  of Patient #32185

  October 1, 2005

  01:45 p.m.

  I lifted my hand to my cheek, touching the spot where Kenzie had kissed me as I walked down the hall to the stairs that led to the lower parking lot. My heart was beating faster now than it did when I traveled, and I brought one hand to my chest, trying to calm it as it stung with pain, still too damaged to handle the excitement. I took a deep breath and exhaled as I pulled back my jacket and lifted the hem of my black thermal shirt, exposing my side. The bruising there was better than it had been last night, but blood still seeped from my pores as though my stomach had become a sponge. The shirt was sodden as well, but luckily for me, it was too dark to show the stains.

  It was clear the pain was getting worse with each travel I made through time, each whisking my blood in a manner that was causing every organ in my body to seize, especially what seemed to be my kidneys. If I had understood what was happening to my body earlier, I would have been a little more careful, but I didn’t have that knowledge. It wasn’t as though there was a manual for what I was doing that I could pick up at the local book store.

  I hadn’t been lying when I said I was enrolled in Ke
nzie’s same biology course. It had occurred to me that learning more about the human nervous system and science could help explain what was happening to me, and how I could possibly manage to travel through time. So far, nothing made sense but my mind could not accept that it was magic. There had to be another reason, a scientific or psychological one.

  As I made it outside, fat drops of rain began to fall but I hardly noticed. Amy’s car sat by the curb, and I wished there was some way I could get back to my bike without having to walk the twelve blocks; not when all I wanted was a shower and a nap. I knew I could not risk skipping the time between now and then, and wasting a travel, knowing that it could be the one that finally kills me.

  Growing up, I had wondered about the consequences of what I was doing but ignored it, instead opting for a free life where there was no retribution, no rules, and no death. Now, however, it was becoming obvious that my future was growing shorter with each travel I made through time. When I first decided to go all the way to the end, to my death, I was old and grey, the way God had intended me to be. I’ll admit that going into the future to see my day of reckoning was astonishing, and I’ll never forget the way it felt to be teetering on the brink of death like that. It was an amazing thing to be able to understand at such a young age.

  Admittedly, it scared me, and after that I didn’t go back to revisit the experience until years later, after all the gallivanting around to save Kenzie. When the urge to see my death finally did return to me, I went there. Only it was much different, and I was much younger when I died than I had been before. I shuddered. Just the thought of going back now makes my blood curdle, because I fear my death is even closer, possibly tomorrow, for all I know. I figure it is better not to have the knowledge, better to believe that life will always go on. But despite all the worry it has welled deep inside me, I had to do what I did to stop the damage last night’s events would have caused on our lives. I had to save her from him, and I had to stop the pregnancy.

 

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