The Portal At The End Of The Storm (Quantum Touch Book 6)

by Michael R. Stern

  George stood in his doorway, his face already a light shade of irritated, and he waved me over.

  “We'll meet in here.”

  “Fine. I want to thank you first. I just had one of the best classes I've ever taught. All I did was ask one question. I hope the kids had as much fun as I did. So thanks again. Now, what's the plan?”

  “Don't be so damn glib. This is serious.”

  “How could I possibly know what you're talking about?”

  “Dr. Whitehall will be here in a minute. So will Chief Shaw.”

  “Chief Shaw?”

  “The police chief. I want him to hear this too.”

  “You're having me arrested?”

  “We'll see.”

  My instinct told me to leave, with a few pointed suggestions of what he could do. But I wasn't in a position to go on the offense yet. In my other world, George's office had been spruced up, thanks to Fritz. This one shared the same ugly color as the rest of the school. George had stacks of papers everywhere, but had made room for three chairs. I took the one closest to the door.

  “Sit in that one,” George said, pointing to the one farthest from the exit.

  “I'm fine right here. I'll stand up so your other guests can get by. George, what's this all about?”

  “You'll see soon enough.”

  We sat staring at one another with not another word said for several minutes. I tried to think of an appropriate analogy for the atmosphere being thick. But I kept returning to the image of a meat slicer cutting bologna, or in this case, baloney. When the others finally arrived, George shut the door.

  He said, “Mr. Gilbert, I've invited you here…”

  “Invited?” I kept my tone as friendly as I could. “You ordered me at the threat of losing my job. I'm here. Now what's this about?”

  “Allow me, Mr. McAllister,” said the doctor. “We've received stories about your strange and erratic behavior. I've been asked to determine if your actions are a potential danger to the students.”

  I had reached the end of my patience. “With all respect, what the hell are you talking about?”

  George's complexion reminded me of Fritz's tomatoes in late summer. “Let's start with interfering with the police just a couple of days ago. That action goes against school policy.”

  “I was trying to break up a fight in the halls. No police were around at the time. They showed up later.” The doctor wrote notes.

  “Don't be belligerent, Mr. Gilbert. We have received a report that you believe that you can time travel. That you are here from another dimension.”

  I just looked at him. I had Sandy nailed. I couldn't help myself. I chuckled.

  “Well?” George glared.

  “Well what? I didn't hear a question.”

  “Well, is it true?”

  “Is it true that I can time travel? I think I'm the wrong person needing his head shrunk.”

  “You're pushing your luck.”

  “Yeah, I'm really lucky.” I could feel my control slipping, and although I didn't know this man, I couldn't give him a chance to pounce. I sucked in a chest full of air, and let it out, allowing me to regain my composure and a moment to think. “I know where you got the time-travel story. I only told one person.”

  “So,” said George. “I need to hear it. I'm responsible for the safety of the students. I won't have aliens teaching them.”

  I summoned every ounce of control and tried not to laugh in his face. Or punch him. Even in another dimension, he was a pain in the ass. “I'm writing a book and I wanted to test the plot. Who better than an English teacher to try it out on.”

  “What do you mean?” George's rising color said that I'd won. He might not like the answer, but he couldn't deny that my knowing his source unraveled his argument.

  “Let me continue, please, Mr. McAllister,” said Whitehall. “The teacher who told the story indicated concern for your well-being, as well as the students. Tell us about your book.”

  “Are you going to buy it when it's published. I don't want to give away the story.” I smiled at him. Fritz calls it my Cheshire-Cat grin.

  “Trust me, Mr. Gilbert, when I tell you that we deem this a serious issue.”

  “Doctor, trust me when I tell you that there is nothing that I consider to be more serious than accusing me of endangering children. So far, my actions have been exemplary, quite the opposite of what you are implying. My story, if you must know, is about a history teacher who can time-travel. Imagine the value of bringing history to life for readers, especially kids.”

  “Well, how did you get here from another dimension?” George kept digging a deeper hole. I wanted to get him a backhoe.

  “Other than walking through your door, and finding myself at the Salem Witch trials, you mean?”

  “I don't have a lot of time for this nonsense,” said the police chief. “So let's get to the heart of this. I caught up with Bob Easthill with a customer. He said you were his supplier. We asked him if others bought from you. He gave us the names of at least three kids who are students here. All three said the same thing. They bought from you. Why would they say that?”

  “Mr. Shaw,” I said, “do you intend to arrest me? I think I may need an attorney. It seems the three of you have me guilty of something you've concocted. This story is better fiction than I could ever write.”

  “I'm not arresting you now. We are investigating the claims, and we will be looking for evidence.”

  I wanted to say something sarcastic like arrest me so I can't travel to another dimension, but I kept my mouth shut. Fortunately, I had dumped the drugs other me had hidden. I hoped I had found them all. “Okay, so what happens next? I haven't done anything that remotely resembles what you are all claiming, but I can't help but wonder when the other shoe's going to drop. I do my job and I think I do it well. My record shows that, doesn't it, Dr. Whitehall? George? I don't take time off. Have I ever refused anything you asked me to do?” I didn't really know the answers, but from what Sandy had said, other me kept to himself, but didn't really bother anyone. Looking from face to face, I received no response.

  “George, whatever the reason you choose not to like me is your business. But I'm not crazy, I'm not a drug dealer, and I'm not a slacker. If you want me to leave, that's fine. When my contract ends, I'll go. Unless you gentlemen have something more, I have a book to write.”

  As I started to leave, George said, “You're still responsible for disturbing things. That girl, that tournament.”

  “George, I'll make it simple for you. Do you want the tournament?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “And she needs your permission, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Just say no.” Tempted to slam the door, instead I left it open.

  Waiting in the hall across from my classroom, Sandy took a step toward me when I came around the corner. I said nothing, but held up my hand and shook my head. Nothing she could say would overcome her betrayal.

  “Ashley…”

  “No.”

  “Let me explain.”

  “No.” Without a missed step, I pulled the door open and went to grab my coat and briefcase. She followed me in. “Sandy, I almost lost my job. So don't bother.” I brushed by her, and held the door for her to leave. I've never handled tears well and hers were like twin waterfalls. “Look, I'm not who or what you think. I have a task to accomplish and no one is going to stop me.” As I headed down the hall, I stopped and turned. “If you want to help me, find a book about Ernest Hemingway and the Lost Generation. Find a picture of a book store named Shakespeare and Co.”

  “And then?”

  “Paperclip the page, and wait for a thunderstorm.”

  I had one thought when I got home. Make sure the drugs were gone. So the yellow VW Beetle parked in front of my house wasn't a pleasant surprise. Another character from my other world walked up my sidewalk. After my inquisition, only raised suspicions could accompany her to my door.

&n
bsp; “Hi, Ashley. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

  “Natalie, I really just need to do something. Alone.”

  “Ash, you're in trouble. Brian Shaw talked to me a few minutes ago. The police are getting a search warrant.”

  “This is getting weirder by the minute. Why would he tell you?”

  “He likes you. He said specifically to warn you. He has to look. His job, you know. He said you're a good teacher. I came right away.”

  “Look for what?”

  “Ashley, we dated for a year. Don't deny what I already know. I'll help you look. You need to be sure everything is gone. He's bringing dogs. I know every inch of this house and a few places you might not even remember. I made a mistake introducing you to our friend, Ms. Miller.”

  How weird everything had become.

  Chapter 10

  Ashley

  SHE RECEIVED another call from Chief Shaw, saying they were on the way. He'd called earlier and Nat had texted back, telling him to find something to do for a half an hour. Then she told me we had a lot to do and not much time. She had been right when she said she knew the house better than me. Other me had more stashes than Carter had liver pills. When she told me to get the bike out of the house, I asked why.

  “You're an idiot. Just do it.”

  “Why?”

  “Put it behind the house. Lay it down. That fits you, not caring.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Ashley, are you forgetting why this model is so expensive?” She huffed at what must have been my blank expression. “Get it out. Now. Hurry.”

  Rather than risk her ire, which I had seen in my world, I did what she asked. How she had held off this raid, this assault on my privacy, with a cell phone, made me curious. Natalie and I had a lot more to discuss. Planted, the seed of that thought began to germinate. I'd have to be more cautious after the Sandy episode. Before she left, I asked her what she was doing later, when the police were gone. She had answers to my expanding list of questions.

  “When they leave, call me.”

  “What's your number?” She cocked her head, then put her hand on my forehead. She said I didn't have a fever, but asked if I'd lost my mind. I told her I was trying to find it. I held out my phone. She held hers out and said now I had it.

  “I'll see you later.” She pulled away as the red and blue flashing lights invaded my street.

  I didn't know if I should stand at the open door, but they were, after all, coming to visit me. It seemed rather silly to close the door and open it again, so I just left it open and sat in the living room. When the doorbell rang, I called “it's open,” which should have been obvious to them.

  Two officers preceded Chief Shaw through the door. He said he assumed I understood why he was here, and I shrugged.

  “I expect you're following up on our conversation with George. Do I need to do anything?”

  “No. Just stay where you are. One of my men will be here with you.”

  “Do you have a search warrant?” That question made me feel like an actor in a crime show. He rolled his eyes, and handed me folded legal-looking papers. “Thanks.”

  “We're bringing in dogs.”

  “Sorry, but I didn't buy any treats.”

  One by one, six policemen and two dogs began to dismantle my house, room by room. I couldn't see what they were doing, but I imagined that they had undone what I'd cleaned up only two days ago. Kind of like Groundhog Day. They were methodical and organized. I could hear drawers opening, but never close. The clomp of wood on wood said they were stacking the drawers, and I would have more work when they left. Whether I'd be leaving with them remained a question.

  When I stood to get my briefcase, the officer told me to sit down. I had classes to prepare, I told him, and I wanted my notes. He repeated his request, a command, really. I asked if he would mind checking with his boss, and despite a clench-jawed grimace, he called Shaw. I explained that unless they were taking me away, I had a job and work I still needed to do. With a wave of his hand, I judged he had just given me permission.

  Even with surveillance of my own homework, I managed to prepare my question for Friday's discussions: “What one thing would you want to know more about?” I thought about the advances in technology and ease of access to information as the basis for the growing knowledge economy. I became so engrossed, I didn't notice when the Chief stood across from me.

  He cleared his throat to garner my attention. “We're done. It seems you've been rousted for a rumor, Mr. Gilbert. We'll be clearing out.”

  “Sorry I don't have a box of dog treats to offer.”

  His stark expression lingered until he figured out I was serious. I asked him if he had a minute to chat.

  “Let me get my guys out of here first. I'll be back.” He ushered the men and dogs out the front door and in a matter of minutes he stepped in.

  “So?” I asked, as he took the seat across from me.

  “You want it straight?” I nodded. “I know you had drugs here and I'm glad you got them out. But this is the last warning. Next time, no mercy.”

  “I'm not a drug dealer, so there won't be a next time. But I have a question. Why are you letting me off?”

  “You don't know?”

  “Wouldn't ask if I did.”

  “Mr. Gilbert, think back. I was in your class for American History.” Of course, I didn't know that. “You caught me with three joints I planned to sell. Don't you remember?” Again I shook my head. “Well, you took me and the joints into your classroom, crumbled the joints into your trashcan, and we went to the boys' room. You flushed your entire can and backed up the toilet. The only thing you said to me, 'stop being stupid.' I haven't forgotten. I don't know what's happened to you since, but like they say, 'What goes around comes around.' So stop being stupid.”

  “I know Nat told you to wait. Why did you?”

  “I owe her. She wrote a piece that changed public opinion about police. You must remember it. When the kid got shot with the stray bullet? Anyway, she wrote that the time had come to stop judging based on news stories, and that the police have a hard and dangerous job. Bad apples make the story, and make the thousands who really are public servants look bad.”

  “I guess I owe her now too.”

  “Maybe more than you know. Don't take it for granted. That'll not only piss her off, but you'll be making me your enemy.”

  “Message received. Thanks again.”

  Primed for the morning onslaught, I still had no idea how to find Fritz. How long would I have to wait for Thor to send me some luck? Following the chief's admonition, I called Natalie to thank her. Her question caught me off guard.

  “What are you doing the rest of the night?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Do you want company?” Her sensual tone enticed, and my answer surprised us both.

  “Not tonight, but how about breakfast on Saturday?”

  She chuckled in resignation. “Still hard to get. I'll pick you up at eight-thirty and we'll play it by ear.” My phone went dead.

  December continued to be warmer than usual according to the ten-day forecast on my computer. Unseasonal storms were expected for the Gulf States. All I could imagine on my way to school was Chris Hemsworth laughing at me.

  My classes performed admirably. In a world changing so broadly, the list of things they wanted to know more about grew each period. I left the list on the board, adding each class's ideas. My fifth period class had another agenda after I told them they had homework. When I asked them to tell me one thing they wanted to know more about, “Like what?” was the first response.

  I said, “For me, I want to know more about mosquitoes.” Scrunched faces of disgust and fidgeting as they scratched told me I had struck a nerve.

  “Why? With so much to choose from, why pick something so annoying?”

  “We've learned to control them, how to prevent bites, and still we can't kill them off. Is there something we can learn about surviv
al from them?”

  The day's best answer came from a tenth grade boy. “Girls.” I didn't say, but I had to agree. I looked forward to their homework lists. Fifty things they wanted to know more about.

  Although I anticipated an enjoyable morning on Saturday, I hoped that Nat would be a trustworthy confidant. The yellow Beetle ground to a halt with her downshift. In her other world, she drove a hybrid Focus.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Breakfast.”

  “I know, but where?”

  “Best buffet around.”

  I had no idea until we pulled into what was a garden center in my world. Here a full parking lot and a line out the door warned of an indefinite wait. I suggested we go someplace else. She shook her head and said, “You're an idiot.” The owner met us at the front door and after a hug and cheek kisses, we were escorted to a booth in the rear, behind an uncleared table.

  “This table won't be available until you're ready to leave, Natalie. So glad to see you again.”

  “We'll be a while, Niko. But pad the bill. He,” she pointed to me, “can afford it.”

  “Thanks for that,” I said. She smiled. “And thanks for your help with the cops. You seem to know me better than I do.”

  “Now, my old friend, do you want to tell me who you really are?”

  I stopped looking at the menu and jerked my head up so that we were eye to eye. No twinkle, all business. “What do you mean?”

  She kept her eyes locked on mine, reached out and grabbed my hand, flicking my nail tips. “Brian told me about your meeting with McAllister and the shrink. Writing a book, my ass. Spill it, Ashley.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Nothing you can't tell me again. I've interviewed politicians for years, so believe me, I know a lie from any angle you can think of. I want it. I want it now. I want it all.”

  I recognized this version of Natalie, even if we were from different worlds. Tenacious, a word that had her teeth marks as the definition, unyielding and determined. I had always found her attractive, sexy even. But this one had a thin coating of nice over the hard-as-nails reporter across from me. She still held my hand. The warmth that passed between us contradicted the hard look she gave me.