Memories from a Different Future: Jump When Ready, Book 2

by David Pandolfe

  Emilio took a step away. “We have no money. My father’s been gone for as long as I can remember. I have a little brother who needs me to look after him. My best grade since elementary school is a C. I’m not going to college, Mr. P. But at least you got something right. My mother’s a freaking waitress so maybe I can go wash dishes for the rest of my life.”

  Emilio turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

  “Emilio, wait. You can do this.”

  Emilio spun to face Mr. Posten again. The tears were gone now, his eyes locked in resolve. “Just because you did, doesn’t mean I can. It’s already too late, Mr. P. I’ll see you around.”

  ~~~

  Emilio was no sooner out of the school when a car pulled up alongside him, driven by a boy whose smile lacked any trace of warmth. The driver nodded toward the passenger seat. “Mealy, time to talk.”

  Emilio got into the car.

  “Just guessing that must be one of Emilio’s homies,” Henry said, as they passed through the door into the back seat.

  “You guessed right,” Nikki said. “And I’m not exactly getting a great feeling about him.”

  “Diego, what a surprise,” Emilio said. “Never would have expected to see you today.”

  Diego grinned and pressed his foot to the pedal. Clearly, this was the kind of school where someone peeling out of the parking lot was low on the list of concerns. He turned music up loud as drove—the message clearly being, while they had to talk, Diego would decide the moment. Meanwhile, Emilio stared out the window but Nikki got the feeling he wasn’t taking in much of anything. She didn’t have to read him to feel his despondence.

  Before long, Diego cut a sharp right into an alley. He pulled in behind a brick warehouse, its boarded windows tagged so many times the effect was like someone had poured paint over the building.

  Diego killed the engine. He didn’t say anything as he reached into his top pocket and withdrew a joint. He lit it, closing his eyes as he took a hit, then went to pass it to Emilio.

  “Not today,” Emilio said.

  Diego cocked his head. “There I was thinking it might be good for the nerves. Big day tomorrow, right bro?”

  “I’m not nervous. Just not into it right now. I have stuff to do.”

  Diego shrugged. “Okay. Stuff to do. Sounds important. What kind of stuff? Like maybe trying to run? You know what happens to pussies.”

  As Nikki continued to listen, all of it started coming together. Now, she understood that trapped look she’d seen in Emilio’s eyes each time. Before, she’d thought he was trapped in the event unfolding around him. That wasn’t the case. He’d been trapped for a long time. The trap was invisible but he might as well be encaged.

  Emilio spoke softly but his voice held an edge Nikki felt against her skin. “Try calling me a pussy again and see what happens.”

  Diego’s head jerked in Emilio’s direction, his hand twitching like he might strike. Instead, he grinned that icy grin. “Nice, bro. Seriously, I felt that. I think that’s the first time Marcos would have been proud of you. Maybe you can pull this deal off.”

  The mere mention of that name sent an emotional flare out from Emilio. It took just moments for Nikki to lock on and experience the images rippling through his mind—hundreds of them hitting her at the same time. Without thinking about it, she reached up to wipe her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Henry said.

  Nikki nodded but didn’t have time to explain before Diego spoke again.

  “So, you have a plan, right?”

  “Yeah, I have a plan,” Emilio said.

  “Now is the time to tell me, bro. So, like one of the shops in the east hood or what’s the deal? I love watching those mothers go all mental every time we—”

  “Cyprus Hill,” Emilio said.

  A moment passed in silence. Diego flicked what was left of his joint out the window. “Cyprus Hill Mall? Like where the rich people go? Is that what we’re talking about here?”

  Emilio sighed. “Not the entire mall, obviously.”

  Diego hesitated, then laughed. “Yeah, I get that, asswipe. Obviously.”

  “Actually, he didn’t get it at all,” Nikki said. “Just saying.”

  “Kind of suspected,” Jamie said. “I’m having one of those moments when I wish I could somehow force him over to our side.”

  “Let’s just leave him here for now,” Henry said. “Feel like sitting across from him in the food court?”

  Emilio turned, his eyes meeting Diego’s. “One store in Cyprus Hill, is what I’m thinking. And I’m also thinking people we know won’t forget it. You in?”

  “What do you mean, am I in? This is your big day, bro. Man the hell up.”

  Emilio shrugged. “Cool with me. I was just thinking this hasn’t been done before. Sure, everyone hits the liquor stores and the mini-marts. I’ll be the first South Ender to hit a jewelry store. I’m totally fine with being legendary on my own.”

  Diego frowned. “What about security? You’re talking about a freaking jewelry store.”

  “Yeah, in a mall. Which means they have the same security as everyone else. Ever see an armed guard hanging out in one of those places?”

  A few seconds ticked by, then Diego chuckled. “Nice, bro. That’s some genius shit there.”

  This time, Emilio grinned, keeping his gaze fixed straight at the windshield. “Gonna be some fat cash sitting there. Maybe I’ll buy you a pack of smokes or something.”

  Diego leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling. “What time?”

  It was Emilio’s turn to chuckle. “So, you in?”

  “I don’t know, maybe I am. What time?”

  “I always liked the sound of high noon.” Emilio swung the car door open and got out. He turned to look back in at Diego. “Don’t pussy out.”

  Diego narrowed his eyes but still managed his grin. “I’m thinking Marcos would be proud right now.”

  “I know he would be,” Emilio said.

  ~~~

  Nikki watched Emilio walk off, turn a corner at the end of the alley and disappear. She turned to Henry and Jamie, sitting next to her in the back seat of Diego’s car. “I just need to be sure about something. Either time, did you guys see this dipshit at the mall?” She pointed at the back of Diego’s head as he started the engine.

  Henry and Jamie both shook their heads.

  Nikki thought about it, hoping maybe something had just shifted. After all, Martha said things could still change—that there were variables they couldn’t know about. At the same time, it might just be that each time they’d witnessed the scene at the mall, Diego had been there and they just hadn’t seen him. Or maybe he hadn't shown up. Nikki corrected herself—maybe he won’t show up. Either way, Emilio was gone now and she wasn’t sure what to do next. She decided on what seemed like the most logical thing.

  “We should probably keep following Emilio,” she said.

  “Just give me a moment,” Jamie said.

  A second later, Jamie emerged in the front seat just as Diego shifted the car into drive. Jamie gave a little wave. “How’s it going, bro?”

  “What the hell?” Diego turned in his seat, eyes bulging and mouth gaping as he slammed his car into the side of the warehouse. He remained sitting there, engine dead, coughing against dust, still swiveling his head around but Nikki, Henry and Jamie were already gone.

  ~~~

  “I guess this must be where he lives,” Nikki said, as Emilio climbed the stairs in an old apartment building. From behind closed doors came the sounds of music blaring, television shows in Spanish, people arguing and babies crying. A mixture of lives playing out in close proximity as dinnertime approached, sending into the hall the scent of spices and meat roasting in ovens or frying in pans.

  Emilio unlocked one of those doors and walked into a small living room where a young boy sat on a worn sofa staring at a screen mounted to the wall.

  “Yo, Javier. I’m home.”

  While t
he boy for some reason had remained oblivious to the sound of the door opening, his eyes lit up at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Oh, hey! How’s it going?”

  “Good, little bro.” Emilio locked the door again. “Had a good day. How about you?”

  Javier nodded, eyes drifting back to the screen. “Yeah, good. I already did my homework.”

  A hint of disbelief showed in Emilio’s eyes. “Seriously, dude?”

  Javier nodded again. “Totally. It’s on the coffee table.”

  Javier took a moment to flip through the papers and notebook scattered across the top of the coffee table, then nodded with satisfaction. “Nice. I have to say I’m impressed, bro.”

  Javier hit the mute button. “School is important, right?”

  It took a moment for Emilio to answer. He swallowed before saying, “Really important. Don’t forget that, okay?”

  “How could I forget it? You tell me all the time.”

  “I do?”

  Javier frowned, brown eyes lifting to study his brother’s face. “Like every night while I’m doing my homework?”

  Emilio shook his head and took off his jacket. He crossed the room again to hang it on a hook next to the door. “Sure, yeah. That’s what I say, isn’t it?”

  “Yep. I’m hungry.”

  “I’m on it,” Emilio said. “I just need a few minutes, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Javier turned the sound back on and was already fully absorbed in his cartoon before Emilio left the room.

  Once he was in his bedroom, Emilio walked to the window and opened the blinds. He stared out at the streets below with their cars and busses and people walking along the sidewalks. The sky above held only dense, gray overcast.

  “What are you getting from him?” Henry asked.

  Nikki fought to dismiss the sinking feeling pulling at her. She didn’t even have to truly read him to know. Emilio’s emotional state surrounded him, an aura not too different from the gloomy sky above. “He’s really conflicted. He just doesn’t know how to get out of this thing he’s been forced into. You need to do something, Henry.”

  Henry considered for a moment, then approached Emilio where he stood at the window. “Emilio, listen to me,” he said. “This thing, whatever you signed on for, it doesn’t have to happen.”

  They all took a breath, waiting. You never knew. But only a few seconds passed before Emilio whispered as he stared out. “Marcos?”

  Henry’s eyes cut to Nikki.

  “His older brother,” she said. “He died.”

  Henry threw his hands up, unsure what to do. Nikki nodded, saying she understood, that she didn’t know either.

  “You can still have a future,” Henry said. “You can still change this.”

  Emilio remained still for a moment, then shook his head. “You created this, bro. Why did you do that?”

  “Shit,” Jamie said. “What’s Henry supposed to do?”

  A fair question, Nikki agreed, but she had no idea either. All she could do was continue staring at Henry and Emilio as she hoped and waited.

  Henry glanced back and forth between them again, then returned his attention to Emilio. “What about school? What about college?”

  Suddenly, Emilio wheeled around, facing Henry directly as he pulled his hair back tight across his scalp. He spoke in a strangled whisper. “You’re not here, big bro. You know that. I know that.”

  Henry stepped back, eyes widening. “I’m not Marcos.”

  Nikki understood. There hadn’t been time to prepare. What else could he say?

  Emilio balled his hands into fists. He lowered his head, eyes clenched. “Yeah, I know you’re not Marcos,” he whispered. “You’re my freaking imagination. Marcos is dead! He also didn’t sound like Mr. Posten.” Emilio turned and strode toward the door.

  Henry’s eyes searched Nikki’s and she knew what he was asking. Should he follow? Should he try again? Nikki went with her gut instinct and shook her head. She felt pretty sure what they needed to try next. As far as she could determine, it was the only thing left that might work.

  ~~~

  Mr. Posten fished his keys out of his pocket to open his front door. He sighed and hefted his worn, leather messenger bag up onto his shoulder. Nikki watched as Henry studied him.

  “You may be right,” Henry said. “I might be able to push to him.”

  “That’s what you were trying to tell us before, wasn’t it?” Nikki said.

  Mr. Posten swung the front door open.

  “We didn’t get to talk about it,” Henry said. “But, as far as I’ve been able to figure since when we saved Bethany is that there has to be certain circumstances for that to happen.”

  “How does it work?” Jamie said.

  Mr. Posten walked down the hall toward his kitchen.

  “I’m still not entirely sure,” Henry said. “What I think is that there has to be a certain kind of connection. Like, the circumstances have to be just right.”

  Mr. Posten spooned some coffee into his coffee machine and filled it with water.

  “Each time I’ve been able to push thoughts effectively, the person on the receiving end has been pretty much directly involved in some way.”

  “Like, they’re somehow emotionally connected,” Nikki said.

  Henry nodded. “Exactly. For example, that couple who abducted Bethany—Will and Karen—they were super paranoid because of guilt.”

  Nikki noticed that Henry still thought of them by the aliases they’d used when committing the crime but didn’t see any need to correct him. She supposed they’d always remain Will and Karen to him thanks to the trauma they’d caused.

  “And the police officer—Gary Roberts—he became really suspicious. So, it was like each time they were somehow attuned to hearing the push. Also, I had to know at least enough about them to break through. For Will, it was that he’d worked for my uncle. For Officer Roberts, we used his kids’ names. That touched a nerve with him because he could picture them in Bethany’s situation.”

  Mr. Posten’s coffee machine beeped and he grabbed a mug from one of his cabinets.

  Jamie nodded in Mr. Posten’s direction. “What about him?”

  “He’s definitely concerned,” Nikki said. “That last thing Emilio said about it already being too late keeps going through his mind.”

  “And it’s not like we need to know the names of his kids or anything like that,” Jamie said. “I mean, I think we already know where he’d connect.”

  “Yeah, you’re totally right,” Henry said. “We probably have what we need.”

  Mr. Posten sighed and took both his mug and messenger bag to the kitchen table. He set the bag on one of the chairs, opened it and withdrew a folder full of student papers, each one no longer than a scrawled paragraph or two. Many, Nikki noticed, lacked either the student’s name or any attempt at adding a title, while some lacked both. No wonder Mr. Posten sighed so much.

  Just to be sure, Nikki closed her eyes and concentrated. Not surprisingly, what she saw mostly were the faces of Mr. Posten’s students. A collage of indifference on one side creating a cloud of concern on the other. Still, despite his cause for worry being overpopulated, one face kept repeatedly floating to the surface. Emilio’s. And, again, those words he’d spoken. It’s already too late, Mr. P.

  As if on cue, Mr. Posten sighed again as he lifted one of the papers off the top of the stack and started to read.

  “Same thing,” Nikki said. “He’s really worried about Emilio. The feeling I’m getting is that Emilio is one of the only kids he’s been thinking he might be able to help. Now, he’s not sure what’s going on. But he thinks it’s probably bad.”

  “He’s definitely got that much right.” Henry approached the table and leaned in, his mouth inches from Mr. Posten’s ear.

  Nikki couldn’t hear the thought Henry pushed but within seconds Mr. Posten set the student paper down. He looked off across the room, gaze distant and brow furrowed. Henry leaned in again and a mom
ent later Mr. Posten rose from the table. He crossed the room and pressed his palms to the counter, back turned toward them and shoulders hunched as he stared out the window. Henry followed and whispered into his ear one more time. Another moment passed, then Mr. Posten reached into his pocket and got his flexlet. He expanded it to phone and stabbed his finger at the screen three times. He waited, then said, “Well, it’s not exactly an emergency but I felt that I needed to call it in.”

  Mr. Posten nodded several times while he listened.

  “I don’t exactly have knowledge of a crime either. At least, not yet. But I believe one of my students is going to be involved in something. I suspect it’s going to be a robbery attempt.”

  Nikki squinted, trying to hear the voice on the other end but couldn’t make it out.

  “No, I don’t have any direct evidence,” Mr. Posten said. “And, yes, I do understand the seriousness the of allegation.”

  Mr. Posten listened again, this time as Henry whispered in his other ear.

  “As I said, I’m a teacher. I’d rather not give you any names at this point but I believe it’s going to take place at the Cyprus Hill Mall. Tomorrow afternoon, at twelve.”

  Nikki watched as the blood rose in Mr. Posten’s face. His forehead glistened and he wiped sweat away with his forearm.

  Obviously, Jamie noticed the same thing since he said, “They think he’s a nutcase.”

  Nikki nodded, unfortunately agreeing. After all, why would the police believe Mr. Posten’s claim? It had no basis in reality. Not yet. By the time it did, it would already be too late.

  “I realize this is unsubstantiated,” Mr. Posten said. “All the same, I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen.”

  Nikki watched Mr. Posten’s face as he tried to control his frustration. How could he explain something he knew to be true while having no way of understanding how he knew it?

  “I’m simply asking that you have someone nearby at the time.” Mr. Posten waited a few more seconds before saying, “No, that’s all I have to report. Thank you.”

  As soon as he was off the phone, Mr. Posten picked up his mug in a trembling hand. He hesitated just as it reached his lips, then hurled it across the room. It dented the wall, then shattered on the floor. He stood staring as coffee dripped down his wall, watching the stain spread. He went to the table and sat, holding his head in his hands.