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

by David Pandolfe

  Josh felt his eyes misting and rubbed them just as Ian looked his way. Why this sudden nostalgia? Why this—Josh couldn’t think of a better word—melancholy?

  “Doing okay, Dad? You look a little tired.” Ian grinned knowingly. “Stay up working on one of your novels?”

  The fact was, Josh had done just that. But it didn’t explain the strange feeling he’d woken up with that morning. Caused by that dream, no doubt, an inexplicable mix of images. Where they’d come from, he couldn’t imagine. A boy—no, not a boy—a teenager with flaming red hair jumping from the top of a building. Another man, pale and lying in a hospital bed. He’d seemed disturbingly familiar, almost like a forgotten relative. A woman crashing her car, the windshield shattering into a thousand fragments, her last thoughts being only about her son. A Latino kid pointing a gun toward a crowd of wide-eyed people. Craziness. The kind of dream you’d hope never to have but absolutely hope not to remember. Still, what was there to do with any of that? And where had it all come from? The fact was, even now it felt more like a collection of someone else’s memories pushed at him than an actual dream of his own.

  Josh took a sip of coffee and forced a smile. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I did probably stay up a little later than I should have. But I’m fine. I’ll be even better when your mother makes her world-famous French toast.”

  Clara looked up from her screen. She looked tired too today, Josh noticed.

  “I guess that means I’m on,” she said.

  “That’s exactly what it means,” Josh said. “I think I’ll sit down right next to my son and wait for some grub.”

  Clara cocked an eyebrow. “Call my food grub again and you’ll be waiting a very long time.”

  ~~~

  Margo towel-dried her hair, then ran a brush through it while staring at her face in the mirror. Great, a new zit next to her mouth. That should add to her overall appeal. Actually, it was so pathetic that she had to laugh. At least she didn’t have to be anywhere today, so it wasn’t like anyone would see it. She yawned again, realizing she hadn’t slept all that great. She didn’t remember anything in particular—not about her dreams, anyway—but she recalled tossing and turning early this morning just at daybreak. She’d finally given up and remained in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, when she’d found herself thinking about the conversation she’d had with Ian the other day.

  She felt a little embarrassed now about feeling sorry for herself. After all, there had been no logical explanation for why she’d been depressed. What did she have to complain about? Her nice parents? Her comfy house? The fact that her family had sufficient money and plenty to eat? Still, that was the very nature of depression, wasn’t it? It wasn’t necessarily logical. In fact, most of the time it was entirely chemical.

  Thankfully, she felt better now. Maybe she’d just needed a break from school. Shit, you’d have to be crazy not to find high school depressing. Just not being around that scene for a while gave her enough perspective to see how little it would matter in the future. And maybe that’s why she woke up thinking about her talk with Ian, how he’d assured her that things would get better soon when she went to college. But it wasn’t that part she kept thinking about.

  It was that weird moment when he’d said that if anything happened to him she’d have to be there for their parents. Why had he said that? And why hadn’t she been thinking about it before now? It felt almost like someone had been whispering in her ear. Even now, she imagined someone trying to get her attention, trying to warn her that bad things were going to happen. She shivered thinking about it and a chill ran up her spine. God, too weird. No, she wasn’t going to listen to her freaky imagination today. What she’d do instead was go downstairs and spend some time with her family. She’d just gotten it together and wasn’t about to crawl back into that dark hole of sadness.

  ~~~

  Clara forced herself not to say the words again as she watched Ian put his jacket on. Yes, she felt strongly about asking him not to go anywhere today. In fact, even more than yesterday morning. As soon as she’d woken up, she’d kept thinking the same thing over and over. This strange mantra of “Stop Ian from going to the mall” and “Don’t let him leave the house” and “Think of some reason why he should stay home today.”

  Even now, as she watched him walk toward the door—and she knew this was totally irrational—she could swear someone stood right next to her trying to get through. She could almost imagine the way he looked—a teenage boy with long, dark hair and brown eyes. She’d imagined him the other day too. The same day when she’d talked Ian out of going to the mall and absolutely nothing had happened there that day. Even now, she felt embarrassed thinking how foolish she must have seemed.

  Ian checked his pockets as he always did, being sure he had his wallet and keys. “Dinner at six, right?”

  For a moment, Clara didn’t realize he was speaking to her. But Josh had gone upstairs to change and Margo was talking to Donna on her phone.

  Did she have any excuse she could use? Any reason to make Ian stay home or at least come home sooner? Not that she could think of and why would she anyway? None of it made any sense.

  “Sure, that sounds good,” Clara said. “Around six.”

  Ian’s eyes met hers, those same kind eyes that once looked up at her from a crib, even then seeming to know her as if he had forever. As if somehow he’d known from the start he’d come to the right place. “I should be back before then,” he said. “Just going to get some shopping done. I bet I’m back by four.”

  Don’t go, Clara thought. Please. I’ll miss you so much!

  Ian stared into her eyes. “Mom, are you okay?”

  Clara made herself focus. “Yes, honey. I’m…fine. Just a little tired.”

  “What’s with everyone being tired today?” He turned and walked toward the door.

  Clara closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. There he was, the teenage boy again, inside her mind. Who was he and why did she keep imagining seeing him?

  Don’t let him go. Please, listen. You need to stop him!

  Just barely a whisper, as if someone was at her ear.

  Clara opened her eyes. Irrational or not, it didn’t matter. She needed to stop Ian from leaving. Clara opened her mouth to speak.

  “Hey, Mom? Are you okay with me going to Donna’s house on New Year’s? She’s having some friends stay overnight.”

  Clara shifted her attention to Margo and heard the back door close, part of her knowing it was already too late.

  ~~~

  Julie knew they were there with her again. She felt their presence as certainly as most people realize someone came through the front door of their house. She didn’t have to hear them to know. Although, she did hear them in a way, the murmur at the back of her mind that she’d long ago come to accept being the voices of spirits. She also felt the fine hairs on the back of her arm lift like antennae. The sudden chill in the room was always another sure sign.

  Julie closed her eyes but remained on her sofa, where she’d been checking emails on her flexlet. She knew why they were back again, of course. She didn’t wait for them to speak. Or, at least, him—the one she’d heard so loudly last time, more than any spirit she’d ever encountered.

  “I tried,” she said softly. “Don’t you know that?”

  She kept her eyes closed and listened to the murmur as it grew more intense. Like the hum of electricity, their conversation as they spoke amongst themselves. Finally, he came through as Julie knew he would. Henry. Such a strong soul.

  We didn’t know. When?

  “Yesterday. I called him and he came here.”

  The murmured hum became more audible. She heard their words, like a faint radio signal as they talked to each other. Then he was back.

  Did you tell him?

  “I tried,” Julie said. “He didn’t believe me. I’m sorry. He wouldn’t listen.”

  Their voices rose as if they were arguing, confused and desperate. She tried to l
isten but they were already pulling away to somewhere between her realm and theirs. She waited, thinking he’d come through again but the connection was lost. They were gone and she’d failed them. And Ian, especially Ian. Julie told herself she’d never had much of a chance but that didn’t keep her eyes from filling. She rose from the couch and crossed the room to the window. Outside, the rain fell hard.

  ~~~

  Mr. Posten looked at the ceiling as the rain continued to drum at the roof of the school. As much as it rained in Seattle, it rarely poured like this. A sudden deluge, when in the winter the rain usually came as a lingering mist, these years turning to snow more often than it had when he’d been growing up.

  He straightened his tie and filled his mug with coffee. A short break between classes and then he’d get back to it. Another day of being barely tolerated at best and despised most of the time. Ironic. He’d once been close to being a lost cause and now his job essentially amounted to the same. Still, he’d soldier through another day. He always did, hoping—no, knowing—that every so often his efforts made a difference.

  It’s today. You need to help Emilio.

  Mr. Posten stopped cold just as he’d been about to leave the break room. He shivered involuntarily, then shook his head briskly. No, he told himself, he had not just heard a voice.

  Please, I know you can hear me! You care about Emilio, right?

  Without even thinking, Mr. Posten nodded in response. Realizing what he’d just done, he attempted to rationalize. Of course, he cared about Emilio. At his core, Emilio was a good kid. He had potential. Sure, he was worried too. Emilio had been acting strangely. Still, what the hell had been thinking yesterday when he’d called the police? Based on what?

  He picked up his mug and walked toward the door.

  You know it’s today. Please listen—Emilio has a gun. You need to stop him!

  Mr. Posten stopped again before opening the door, head bowed in thought. He needed to see someone, obviously. A therapist might be able to help him sort things out. God knows, he probably should have made an appointment years ago. Or found another way to make a living.

  Still, Mr. Posten almost reached for his flexlet. Yes, he wanted to call the police. But why? To have himself investigated by the school board? Because that’s exactly what was going to happen if he kept acting like he was losing his freaking mind.

  No, he wasn’t going to call anyone. He was going to walk down the hall and teach his 10:30 class. And when he got there he’d see Emilio sitting in his usual spot, trying to act bored and indifferent. Still, even as Mr. Posten left the break room, he couldn’t shake the certain feeling that he was dead wrong about Emilio being at school today.

  19

  A Faint Light

  Nikki felt sick with dread as she and Henry followed Emilio into the mall. This was actually happening now and she could think of no way to stop it. Her pulse raced, the beating of her heart amplifying time. Minutes now. Just minutes. And it seemed that Emilio felt the same way. He stopped to study the store directory, then sat on a bench nearby where he hunched over and kept taking deep breaths. He stared at the floor for a few moments, then clenched his eyes shut.

  “What’s going on with him?” Henry said. “What are you getting?”

  Nikki only then realized she’d been too overwhelmed by her own emotions to be tracking Emilio’s. Now, she tried and it wasn’t easy. A flood of thoughts and feelings came at her. Years of fear, longing and desperation. All of that along with this burning present moment.

  “It’s total chaos inside his mind,” she said. “He’s stressing out like crazy.”

  “That could be good,” Henry said. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

  But Nikki didn’t get that from Emilio. What she got was a nearly overwhelming sense of resignation. But there was also something else. Something she just now picked up on. A faint light shining through the darkness of his thoughts. Somehow it involved waiting. And hoping. Emilio wasn’t just sitting there freaking out. He was waiting to see if something happened.

  “What do you think?” Henry said. “Is he backing out of it?”

  Nikki shook her head. “It’s really hard to be sure. There’s just so much going on inside his mind.”

  Henry locked his eyes on hers. “But Ian’s already on his way!”

  Nikki already knew this, of course. They’d left his house just minutes before, after all their futile attempts at making some sort of meaningful contact this morning. The only thing they hadn’t tried was having Jamie emerge. They’d considered it, definitely, but once again they’d been too afraid of the consequences. With all they didn’t know, they knew this much—people in this realm never reacted predictably when coming literally face-to-face with someone from theirs.

  “Unless the others somehow convince him to stay away,” Nikki said.

  That had been the only thing they could think of trying—leaving them with Ian while she and Henry tried to intervene with Emilio.

  “Not likely,” Henry said. “Ian seems almost determined to block us out. I don’t understand. I mean, he knows us. You’d think it would be the opposite—that we’d be able to get through to him.”

  Nikki had expected the same before but obviously it didn’t work that way. In fact, she’d started to wonder if Ian’s familiarity with them was exactly what caused him not to react. She’d like to ask Martha about it but there was no time left.

  Suddenly, something shifted inside Emilio’s mind—that ray of light brightening just a bit as he looked up. Nikki turned, terrified, wondering if she’d see Ian come through the doors just as Emilio made some sort of decision. Instead, she saw Diego striding into the mall, his eyes slits of concentration even as, for some reason, his mouth broadened into a grin. Each time she saw that grin, it reminded her of a carnivorous animal hunting prey.

  Diego approached Emilio. “Let’s do this.”

  Nikki could almost feel Emilio’s heart pounding as his thoughts raced. Still, somehow Emilio offered Diego a calm demeanor. “So, homes, you decided you wanted in.”

  Diego smirked. “I’m here, right?”

  Henry moved toward them but Nikki held her hand up. “Wait.”

  Henry’s eyes bored into hers. “This might be my last chance.”

  “I know. But I have a feeling about this. I think something’s shifted. Give it a minute.”

  Nikki saw the doubt in Henry’s eyes along with the fear that they were making a huge mistake. But he stepped back and stood next to her.

  Emilio and Diego started walking.

  “So, we’re a team. Is that it?” Emilio said. “Because this is supposed to be my deal.”

  “Yeah, well, you might have to think of a smaller deal to pull off on your own later. Like some baby steps—know what I mean, homes?” Again, the wide grin as he looked over at Emilio. “Is that the place?”

  Nikki looked past them to see the brightly lit jewelry store just a few yards away. Two well-dressed women stood behind glass counters. Emilio appeared to be right—Nikki saw no sign of additional security.

  “To hell with that,” Emilio said. “I decided to let you be a part of things.”

  Both of them stopped and stared at each other, the tension between them literally visible to Nikki as their auras flared.

  Diego dropped his voice to a growl while still somehow continuing to bare his teeth in a sick smile. “I make the fucking decisions, homes. Don’t forget that like your big bro did. You saw what happened to him. And guess what, Mealy—I just made another decision. Give me the gun. You can celebrate your birthday next week or something.”

  Emilio hesitated, glaring at Diego. A moment later, he reached into his jacket pocket and quickly passed the gun.

  “What’s going on?” Henry said.

  “Possibly something huge,” Nikki said. That light inside Emilio’s darkness kept spreading even as his thoughts remained a cacophony.

  Maybe it happened exactly as Emilio hoped but Nikki couldn’t say. Dieg
o took the gun and strode into the store without looking back. It happened fast. But not so fast that Emilio didn’t have time to make a decision, since clearly he made one. He remained outside the store’s entrance. He watched as Diego reached the counter and thrust the gun out at woman standing closest to the register.

  “Open it, bitch.” Diego hissed. “Now.”

  “Look,” Henry said.

  Nikki followed his gaze just as the other saleswoman reached beneath the counter and then stepped back again. Suddenly, the alarm cut through the air, shrieking both inside the store and throughout the mall, echoing off tiled floors and concrete walls.

  Emilio started walking, blending in alongside other shoppers heading away from the store. Diego’s head swiveled, left and then right, his eyes wide as he realized his situation. “Who did that!?” he screamed. “Which one of you bitches did that?”

  They stared back mutely, eyes full of fear. Diego kept the gun pointed at them until he cleared the entrance.

  “Stop!” The security guard ran toward Diego, hand on the button of his shoulder radio. “Robbery in progress! Suspect is a teenager, Latino, possibly sixteen or seventeen, wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt.”

  The man was armed, Nikki realized. Something she hadn’t noticed before, maybe because it wouldn’t have happened in her last life. Diego bolted and the guard raised his gun, struggling to keep up as people scurried for safety. He didn’t fire—he couldn’t with any degree of certainty—and Diego closed in on the mall entrance just as the cop ran inside.

  Ian stood looking around, this time flanked by Jamie, Simon and Naomi. The little girl broke free from her mother and ran. The mother froze in confusion. Everything the same but this time Diego had taken Emilio’s place.