Prism

by Faye Kellerman; Aliza Kellerman

“The archives in Hawthorne Library are one of the few sources of information about diseases and manufactured spills–or medicine as you call it—that cure sickness.”

  “Then how come everyone doesn’t just go there and find the cure for the diseases they have?”

  “Because one, they don’t know about it, and two, you saw for yourself how hard it is to get into it. Plus even if you do get permission from a scientist like Iona Boyd and get into the archives, if you go too often, you’re stigmatized.”

  I thought of something. “Ozzy, why can’t Iona Boyd help you with your mother?”

  “She’s not interested in helping anyone, in going against the Doctrine. To her, the archives are for research, not something to use in everyday life. I read these accounts and do reports for her—that’s how I work with her and how I get to use the archives.”

  “That’s crazy,” I told him. “I would think anyone who would invent medicine to cure people would be a hero.”

  “You would think and you’d be wrong.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. I whispered, “I guess I am an alien.”

  He took my hand and briefly gazed at me with wonderment.

  Looking at me like I was something special…like I was a gift from heaven.

  12

  Although it took me an hour to walk home from Ozzy’s, time passed quickly as I thought about everything he had told me. We were all going to meet in a few hours, and I wondered how I would pull off being casual when my brain felt like it was on fire and my heart continually thumped in my chest.

  Lucky for me that when the anointed time rolled around, Mom was involved with Suzanne. Lucky also that Jace wasn’t home. Otherwise there would have been a barrage of questions. As it was, I ran out with an “I’ll see you later.” I thought Mom mumbled a good-bye, but I couldn’t be sure.

  The car that Ozzy wrangled up was a heap: no air-conditioning, no heat, no radio, springs sticking out of the upholstery; but it worked, so I didn’t complain. He looked a lot better than the car. He said, “Driving is important to me. I need to travel across the states to these obscure places you wouldn’t even believe. And since I’m still in school, I have to do it during vacation time.”

  His expression was serious, but his eyes were still gorgeous.

  Oh, Kaida, this is so not the time to get moony. Damn those hormones. Silly schoolgirl. I started asking questions to hide my embarrassment. “Ozzy, are herbal remedies allowed? Things like mint tea for digestion?”

  “Sure. Natural is good; not natural is bad. You’ve got to get that through your head, okay?”

  “Okay. And it’s fear that keeps it that way.”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if it prevents someone from saving his own life?”

  “Fear of death from the authorities versus fear of death from sickness. With one you’re eliminated, and with the other you get to die horribly. You choose.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “There are always ridiculous rules. James told me that there were some people in the alien worlds that didn’t use medicine for their babies to help them with sickness. Is that true?”

  “No, it’s not true!” I froze. “Unless you mean vaccines.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Um…there might be some who think that vaccines—which are medicines to keep you from getting sick—that they might cause autism or an allergic reaction, so yes, there are some people who don’t vaccinate their babies.”

  “So someone convinced those people that the solution was worse than the diseases. Welcome to my world, Kaida. Welcome to my life.”

  Crazy, crazy, crazy. I didn’t want to think about any worlds right now. But I had to. I had to focus.

  “James also told me that he learned from the archives that the medicine in the alien world costs a lot of money.”

  “It can. But you need that stuff to take care of life.”

  “But you don’t need it if you think that using it is dangerous.”

  “That’s just ignorance. I think you have to turn left here to get to Joy’s house.”

  He turned left.

  “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy, Kaida. I’m with you on this one. I think that survival of the fittest has its place—but not in everything.” He paused. “Not when it comes to my mother.”

  “Turn here. She should be just over the hill.” I sat up straight. “Ozzy, when you use the archives, how do they keep track of who goes and who doesn’t?”

  “When the library scans your archives ID, the signals are sent to the state and federal governments. James’s father, Mr. Reighton, used to work for the state.”

  “James, the spill dealer.”

  “Yep. Mr. Reighton related all this information to James right before he died.” He turned to me. “We need you, Kaida. It wasn’t that you recognized sickness. We all know sickness. It’s that you didn’t understand why no one was doing anything about it. You came here from somewhere else. And that somewhere else is where we can get help.”

  “But I’m here now.”

  “If you got in, there has to be a way to get out.”

  That was a childish thought. “Not everything works in reverse, Ozzy. It’s like a prism. Light goes in one way and comes out another way. It’s still light but vastly different.”

  “Or maybe not.” Ozzy became sheepish. “You and your friends are the first people from the alien world that I’ve actually met. Before you, I’d just heard about it from James. Like Erin White…”

  “What about her?”

  “They say she moved away. But I’m wondering if she went back. That’s what I heard. Am I right?”

  I had no idea. I kept quiet.

  He tapped the steering wheel. “You have her ID. How’d you get it?”

  “It’s a forgery.” I felt bad about lying, but I wasn’t about to implicate my brother.

  “It’s a good one, then.”

  “Look, Ozzy, this is too much for me to handle alone. I’m glad we’re getting Joy and Zeke involved. I’m finding it hard to do things without them these days.”

  “They were with you when it happened, right?”

  “We think we were all together. We’re having a hard time figuring out if it was real or not.”

  “It was real,” Ozzy said. “Believe me, it was real.”

  We drove up a block and then he parked. “You want to get Joy or should I?”

  “I’ll do it.” I hesitated. “Ozzy, you said I knew the secret code. What were you talking about?”

  He averted his gaze. “It’s the code that spill dealers use to identify ourselves.”

  “What is it?”

  “But you said it.”

  “I don’t know what I said.” I took his arm. “If I have to trust you, you have to trust me.” I waited, then said softly, “What’s the code, Ozzy?”

  He let out a deep breath. “Nine-one-one.”

  Joy wasn’t home, much to my irritation. When we arrived at Zeke’s house, Anderson answered the door in his pajamas: a thing of confidence.

  “Dressed for bed already?” I greeted him.

  “Just being comfortable.”

  “Is Joy here? She’s not home.”

  “Uh…I forgot to call you…. She walked over about an hour ago. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I wanted to yell at him, to tell him we couldn’t afford to waste time, but what was the use? “You met Ozzy this afternoon.”

  Zeke gave a quick nod, and their hands crashed in a flurry of testosterone. “Invite us inside, Zeke.”

  “Yeah, sure…sorry.”

  “Where’s Joy now?”

  “She’s in my room.”

  We stepped inside.

  There were framed photographs everywhere. And it smelled like a combination of fresh-baked cookies and PineSol. There were bronzed baby shoes in the shelves and height charts tacked onto the walls, marking Zeke’s and Zeke’s sister’s first ten years of growth.

  “Who’s your decora
tor?” I said.

  “Not me, okay?” Zeke led us up the stairs and into his room. “Lay off.”

  “Sorry.” I hadn’t noticed how tense Zeke was.

  His room was exceptionally neat. The bed was made, the floor was clear, and I could see the surface of his desk. There was a wall unit completely filled with trophies—from T-ball to first place in a recent swim meet. Plus there were all his debate and Model UN statues. Joy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at the wall, holding her arm. She was still wearing that sweater.

  Ozzy regarded the trophies. “Nice going.”

  Zeke gave a shrug. He clenched his jaw as he spoke. “You know, I’ve got a lot of pressure on me. I don’t care about winning, but my parents do. Joy and I have been talking. I think I’m done with this investigation crap.”

  “What?” I shrieked, then covered my mouth. “Why?”

  “Because I’m tired, Kaida, and I don’t have time. I have three papers to write, a bill to defend for debate team, and a swim meet tomorrow at six in the morning. I know that things are weird. But to me, I’m home.” Zeke gave out a forced laugh.

  “You’re willing to live in a world where the sick are left to die?”

  “I don’t know if that’s true.”

  “Of course it is,” I said. “Ozzy will tell you—”

  Zeke held up his hand to quiet me down. “I’m here, Kaida. I’ll make the best of whatever it is.”

  “I can’t do this alone, Zeke.”

  “You’re not alone,” Ozzy said.

  “I can’t help you,” Zeke said. “You’re a different person, Kaida. I’m not like you. I’m…more conventional. I can’t just jump headfirst into something I don’t know about. I can’t afford to be different anymore.”

  Joy whipped out a pack of cigarettes.

  “Not here!” Zeke grabbed the cigarettes from Joy and threw them in the garbage. “Not now.”

  “Those are imported!” she nearly cried.

  “It’s still my house. Besides, we know what’s good and what’s bad.”

  “You do, but I don’t.” Ozzy intervened. “Why is smoking bad?”

  We all stared at him. Finally I said to Zeke, “Do you have a few minutes? It may make a big difference in your attitude.”

  “My attitude is fine.”

  “Please,” I implored him. “Just listen to what Ozzy has to say.”

  Joy said, “What would it hurt, Zeke?”

  Finally he nodded. “I’ll listen. Shoot.”

  Ozzy breathlessly launched into a summary of everything he had told me back at his house and on the car ride over.

  “Wowzers,” I said. It was just as amazing in recap as it was the first time.

  “We have the archives,” Ozzy went on. “But we need so much more. We need the knowledge that you have. Things like tobacco being bad for you. How did you get here…into my world?”

  Joy said, “We’re not certain. We’ve never really talked about it in depth.”

  “It started with our class trip to Carlsbad Caverns,” Zeke said.

  “Never heard of it,” Ozzy said.

  “They’re caves in New Mexico,” I told him.

  “Caves…you came through caves?”

  “Yeah, but not the famous caves in the national park,” I said. “It was a different cave. It was hidden…where we had the accident.”

  Zeke said, “Why don’t I start at the beginning?”

  “It may be your beginning,” I said, “but it might not be my beginning.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. We’ve never compared stories. So I’ll start, and then you guys can jump in whenever you want.”

  He did and we did. After twenty minutes, it was remarkable how much we had remembered and how much we agreed on.

  “I suppose we need to go back through the desert,” Joy said.

  “That shouldn’t be so hard to do,” Zeke said. “We crashed during our class trip. But our actual class trip in this world hasn’t happened yet. So maybe we could do it then and reverse what happened. Does that make sense?”

  “Not totally,” I said. “What if we don’t crash?”

  “And who wants Mr. Addison to die?” Zeke said. “He might have something to say about that!”

  “Maybe he doesn’t have to die,” I said.

  Joy said, “Even if he doesn’t wind up dying and we go through the cave again, who knows what could happen? We could end up somewhere else…not here, but not in our world either. There may be thousands of worlds out there that we don’t know about.”

  That was a sobering thought. We all chewed on it for a few seconds. Then I said, “Even if we do get back, it might mean we’re permanently back.”

  “No, that won’t help…” Ozzy mumbled. “You need to be able to come back here.”

  “We can’t guarantee that,” I said. “Besides, I don’t want to come back, Ozzy. It’s terrifying in your world.”

  “But you need to help us.”

  “No, that’s not what we need,” Zeke said. “We need to either get on with our lives here or go back to where we came from.”

  I said, “Why don’t you come with us, Ozzy?”

  “Because you three were the ones who came in and out. I don’t know what would happen to me.”

  “And we don’t know what’s going to happen to us,” Joy said. “If we’re going to take a chance, you should go, too.”

  “But my mom needs me.”

  I said, “Then why did you even bother asking me—asking us—for help?”

  Ozzy said, “Because if you guys can go in and out, you could help us identify an infinite number of diseases! We’d know symptoms and possibly cures. You could bring back actual made-for-disease medicine!”

  “And get arrested?” I pointed out. “Besides, we’re not doctors. We could mix up diseases just as easily as you could. Once when I thought I had a cold, the doctor told me it was pneumonia.”

  Ozzy said, “Doctors are like legal professional spill dealers, right?”

  “No, legal spill dealers would be like drug manufacturers,” I told him.

  Joy screamed from out of nowhere.

  “What is it?” Zeke commanded, his eyes growing huge.

  “Pain in my arm!” She was trembling.

  “She hurt her arm when she fell through the cave,” I said. “Let me look at it.”

  When she peeled off her sweater, I gasped. The arm was red and swollen.

  “It looks infected, Joy,” Zeke told her. “You need to go to the doct—”

  Awkward amplified. I looked at Zeke’s bed. The neatness reminded me of the doctor’s office that we couldn’t go to.

  Zeke said, “We need to treat you somehow, Joy. Because if we don’t…”

  Ozzy finished the thought. “That could be very bad.”

  13

  “So what the hell do I do?” Joy yelped.

  I knelt beside her. “I don’t know, but we’re going to do something.”

  “Like what?”

  My brain was going a mile a minute. “Okay…okay…hey! What about chemistry?” I looked at Ozzy. “I know that there’s chemistry here. I’ve taken it in school. Maybe we can make drugs.”

  He let out a small laugh. “What do you think I’ve been talking about, Kaida?”

  “Oh…okay.” I patted his arm. “So I guess that means you’re the go-to guy right now.”

  Zeke said, “Kaida’s got a point, Ozzy. You may be making or dealing the stuff, but we know what stuff works.”

  “He’s right!” Joy was still clutching her arm. “Zeke could help a lot. He’s good at chem.”

  “Zeke, we’ll take all the help we can get,” Ozzy told him. “And we’d love for you to get involved. But I’ve got to be fair to you. You gotta know what you’re getting yourself into. It’s not just against the law, it’s jail time…and sometimes even worse.”

  Joy said, “Worse, meaning…”

  No one spoke.

  “You know, I just thought about something,
” I said. “When we took seventh grade science in our former life, didn’t we read about moldy cheese containing penicillin?”

  Zeke sat up. “I’ve got Roquefort cheese in the kitchen. That’s moldy. Hold on.”

  Ozzy looked at me. “I think I’ve read about pencellus…”

  “Penicillin…it helps fight infection,” I told him. “Where did you read about it?”

  “In one of the papers from the archives.” He looked confused. “What about moldy cheese?”

  “I’ll explain later. I want to read those papers that you took out. I need to know what’s so valuable that it almost got Zeke and Joy arrested at the archives.”

  “It’s okay with me, but it’s getting late,” Ozzy said. “Your parents may say something. Last thing I want is to drag you down with me.”

  “Ozzy, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.” I was pacing a very small space when Zeke came up a moment later. “Stuff yourself with this.”

  Joy began cramming her mouth full of very expensive cheese. Within seconds the room smelled like a French café. Between bites, she said, “Zeke really is a chemistry genius.”

  “She’s exaggerating.” He was acting offhanded, but I could tell he was feeling good about the compliment. There was more than school chemistry going on between the two of them. To Ozzy, Zeke said, “I hope you have something better than Roquefort for her arm.”

  “So now you’re down with the program?” Ozzy asked.

  “Joy’s arm changes the whole thing,” he said. “We have to help her.”

  Ozzy grinned. “Great. So I’ll go to James tomorrow night and we’ll figure it out. We’ll get you fixed up as best we can. But it may take a few days. Like I said, it’s dangerous.”

  I said, “Once we get rid of Joy’s infected arm, then we’ll move on to other things.”

  “Like what?” Ozzy asked.

  “Like getting the hell out of here and getting back to where we came from,” Zeke said.

  The room fell silent. Zeke had articulated my thoughts exactly, and judging by the expression on Joy’s face, it appeared she had been thinking the same thing.

  Ozzy, on the other hand, agreed with Zeke for an entirely different reason. “Yeah, if you could get back to your world and then, if you could somehow make it back here, imagine how much good you could do! It would be…you have no idea how many sick people are running from the authorities!”