by E. C. Myers
“We're here,” Maurice said.
Ephraim and the others climbed out of the limo and gathered on the sidewalk in front of Greystone Park by the bus shelter, directly across from the Summerside Public Library where Jena and Ephraim worked. Ephraim ducked back into the car to grab the ice bucket. He unloaded the bottles of soda and water onto a seat, then dumped the ice out into the gutter. He handed the bucket to Jena.
“Hold onto that,” he said.
Jena raised an eyebrow but tucked the bucket under her arm. “We're just going to do this here?” she asked. “In the street?”
“We can't stay in the car. If we're sitting, we'll fall when we shift. Plus Maurice will notice if we vanish from the back seat. Which reminds me…” Ephraim walked over to the driver's side, and Maurice lowered the window.
“Nothing here,” the driver said.
“No, not yet,” Ephraim said. “Listen, can you drive around for about ten minutes, then come back here to pick us up? Some of us are arranging other transportation from here.”
Maurice shrugged. “No problem,” he said. He started the engine.
Ephraim smiled. “Thanks.”
He rejoined the others. They were so engaged in conversation they didn't notice the limo pull away.
“—going to the future?” Mary asked.
“Not exactly. It's another universe where it's already 2037,” Zoe said.
“How is that different?” she asked.
“It's a future, but not necessarily our future,” Nathan said.
“‘Other times are just special cases of other universes,’” Shelley said.
“Is that from a TV show?” Mary asked.
“I was quoting David Deutsch. He's a physicist,” Shelley said.
“When were you reading all these books and comics? Under the covers with a flashlight?”
“You don't give me enough credit,” Shelley said. “I do a lot of things you wouldn't approve of.”
“Hey, what happens if this machine moves you to a universe where there's something already occupying the space you're standing in?” Nathan asked. “Like a building or an obelisk?”
“An obelisk?” Ephraim asked. “Why would there be an obelisk here?”
“Because it's the future! The future has obelisks. And zeppelins. There are always zeppelins in alternate universes.”
“I suppose if we shift into an obelisk, it would hurt,” Ephraim said. “I don't think the Charon device would let that happen.”
Zoe flipped open the controller. “We'll take our chances,” she said.
“You have the coordinates for Nathaniel's universe?” Ephraim asked.
“Yup. And the coin's fully charged.” She held the controller out to show him the coin still nestled in its place.
Ephraim grinned at Nathan, Jena, and the twins, and waggled his fingers over it. “Behold,” he said.
“Goofball.” Zoe pressed a button on the controller, and the coin slowly floated up until it hovered a couple of inches above the controller. “Woooo,” she said in a spooky voice.
Ephraim smiled. Zoe was getting into the spirit of it.
Mary and Shelley moved to opposite sides of the controller and leaned over to stare at the weightless coin.
“Impressive,” Nathan said. “Gravity-defying.” He was looking down their dresses instead of at the coin. Ephraim smacked him in the back of the head.
“You ain't seen nothing yet,” Zoe said.
“I know,” Nathan said.
She pressed another button. The coin began spinning, faster and faster. Mary's and Shelley's hair stirred in the breeze caused by its rapid rotation. They backed away slowly.
Ephraim placed his right hand over the coin and felt the heat emanating from it. His palm itched with anticipation.
The coin slowed, then froze in midair, tilted at an oblique angle. It still radiated intense heat.
Zoe slipped her right hand into his left and nodded almost imperceptibly in Jena's direction.
She wanted to leave Jena behind.
He was surprised, and immediately shamed, that he was actually considering it. Jena would never forgive him if he abandoned her, especially if he left with Zoe. But this was his last chance to keep her out of this mess, to keep her safe. He could even try to make it look like an accident—not that she'd believe that for even a second.
His hand crept toward the controller. He pulled his hand away just as Zoe nudged the coin closer. He glared at her.
“You'd better hold on to us, Jena,” he said.
Jena approached his other side and gripped his right forearm tightly. He grimaced as her fingers dug into his skin, grateful that she kept her nails trimmed short so she could use the touchscreen of her smartphone. She tucked the empty ice bucket under her other arm.
Nathan pulled out his pocket camera and pointed it at them.
“Do you have to?” Ephraim said.
“This is for Maddy,” Nathan said. “She might want proof that I haven't murdered you and buried your body in the park.”
Ephraim's eyes widened. “Oh, crap! I have to call my mother.”
“Really? Now?” Zoe said. “Do you want her to sign a permission slip for our field trip to another universe?”
“She'll worry. You know how she is,” he said.
“I knew a different Mrs. Scott,” she said. “She didn't pay much attention to my Eph.”
Zoe had also known Ephraim's dad. In her universe, David Scott had stayed with his family, but that still didn't get them a happily ever after. He'd ended up killing his wife, then himself, and that act had inadvertently caused his son's death in Ephraim's universe.
Ephraim's dad was irresponsible, unpredictable, and violent, but his analog had been much worse. Sometimes Ephraim still missed him, even though he knew deep down that he and his mother were better off without him.
“It'll just take a second,” Jena said.
Mary and Shelley nodded in tandem. Their mother was a nurse at Summerside General, and she had helped Madeline Scott after her attempted suicide last year. The twins knew about it but had the decency not to share the gossip with their classmates. Ephraim had always appreciated that.
Ephraim's mother was still convinced that whenever he walked out the door, it would be the last time she'd see him alive.
“Think about how Mom and Dad would feel if you suddenly disappeared, Zoe,” Jena said.
“My dad wouldn't notice,” Zoe said. She switched off the controller and turned away. “Mom died when I was born. Just make it quick, Ephraim. I want to get out of here.”
“Use my phone.” Jena handed Ephraim her smartphone and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.
Ephraim had never owned a cell phone of his own, but his mother had implied he might receive one for a graduation present.
He pressed the little picture of his face on the touchscreen to dial his apartment. He walked a few feet away from the group as the phone rang.
“You never told your Mom about all this quantum thinginess either?” Nathan asked, trailing behind him.
Ephraim shook his head. “She wouldn't get it.”
He started to get anxious when she hadn't picked up after six rings. Was it her AA night? No, that was on Tuesdays. If he had to face the truth, Ephraim was probably more worried about his mother than the reverse. And this call wasn't so much about easing her concern as it was to assuage his guilt that he was leaving her again.
She finally answered after the eighth ring.
“Yes?” She sounded oddly out of breath—and a little annoyed.
“Mom?” Ephraim asked. “Uh. Is this a bad time?”
“Oh, Ephraim. It's Ephraim,” she repeated to someone. “Hi, honey. Jim and I were just…watching TV.”
“Gross, Mom,” Ephraim said. Nathan shot him a questioning look. “They're fooling around,” Ephraim explained.
“Who's in jail? Is Nathaniel in trouble?” she asked.
For a moment he thought she was referring to t
he older Nathaniel, which was right on the mark. But she always called Nathan by his full name for some reason and let him address her by her first name.
“I heard my name,” Nathan whispered. “Is she talking about me?”
“Why do you assume something's wrong?” he asked into the phone.
“Because you're the only boy at any prom anywhere tonight who's on the phone with his mother.” He heard her murmur to Jim. “I don't know. I'm trying to find out.” Her voice became louder and clearer. “Is everything all right with Jena?”
Ephraim glanced over at Jena and Zoe.
“They're fine,” he said.
“They?”
“I mean, she's fine. Everyone's fine.” So far. “Look, I want to tell you what's going on, but I don't think you'll believe me.”
“I don't like where this is going,” she said. She had that two-smoke edge to her voice, which meant she was seriously stressed out, and it would take two cigarettes to calm her down again. “Have you ever lied to me before?” she asked.
“Never.”
“Then I'll believe you.”
“Okay. Here goes.” He took a deep breath. “What would you say if I told you that multiple universes exist, and that I've been to other worlds just like ours and met lots of different versions of you?”
His mother was quiet for a long moment.
“I don't believe you,” she said.
“Nice.” He rolled his eyes.
“But since just about anything else you came up with would sound more plausible, I have to assume you're telling the truth. Or you think you are. Maybe you should go to a hospital.”
“I've had enough of hospitals,” he said. “That's it! Mom. Remember how I acted last June, just after you got out of the hospital?”
“You were upset because of…what I did. Going through one of your phases,” she said. She'd picked that up in a parenting magazine and used it to excuse anything weird and unexpected he did. But no magazine could advise her on what he was about to spring on her, except maybe Scientific American.
“No. That wasn't me,” he said.
“I know. You weren't yourself.” She'd told him that in their AA meetings, they emphasized how saying “I wasn't myself” wasn't an apology and it wasn't an excuse. It was a way of avoiding responsibility and continuing bad behavior.
“No, I mean it literally,” he said. “That Ephraim was one of my doubles from a parallel universe. I came back in August. Remember? You said it was like I'd reverted back to normal overnight. I kind of did.”
“That was a figure of speech.” She lowered her voice. “Ephraim. You haven't been drinking, have you?”
“After all the times I've lectured you?” Ephraim asked.
“Drugs?”
“Drugs, Mom? I don't even take aspirin.”
“Fine. Why are you telling me all this now?”
“Because I have to go away. To another universe.” He knew how that must sound. “But I'll be back.”
“Absolutely not,” his mother said.
“I'm sorry, but you don't get a vote on this.”
“I'm your mother, which gives me veto privileges over whatever stupid thing you're planning.”
“You've always trusted me. I'm asking you to trust me now. This is really important.”
“You're going to a ‘parallel universe,’” she said. “That's your official story.”
“Nathan will explain when I'm gone.”
Nathan's eyes widened.
“Nathaniel won't be with you?” she asked.
Ephraim smiled. “No.” Not the one she was thinking of, anyway.
“I feel better already. What about Jena? Is she involved?” his mother asked.
“Yes.”
“But you're not eloping.”
“Definitely not.”
“And she isn't pregnant.”
“Holy crap. Mom! Do you have to be such a mom right at this moment?”
“Ephraim, I don't know…”
“This is something I have to do.”
“I see,” she said, her voice tight. “Well, then, it doesn't really matter why you're doing whatever it is or where you're going. You're almost eighteen so I guess I can't stop you. I just want to know: Will you be safe?”
He could have lied. It would have made her feel better. “I hope so. I don't even know what we're dealing with yet.”
“Can you contact me when you get there?”
“Doubtful. Unless Jena's phone has a really good service plan.” He remembered that Nathaniel had contacted Zoe through a radio. “But if there's a way, I'll let you know that I'm all right.”
“You're not giving me much here.”
“I know.”
“Well, thanks for calling instead of just…disappearing. And I do trust you,” she said.
“Thanks.” Ephraim swallowed. “Listen, Jim's a super nice guy in every universe. He'll take good care of you, if you let him.”
“Do I need taking care of?” She laughed. “What am I saying? You're right. Is there anything I can do?”
He swallowed. “Just be here when I get back.”
“I'm not going anywhere. I love you, hon.”
“I love you too, Mom.” His voice wavered, and he half-turned away from Nathan, who was pointedly looking in the other direction, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Ephraim tapped the phone's screen to end the call and stared at it for a while, blinking back tears. “So, that went well,” he said.
“She'll be okay,” Nathan said. “I'll make sure of it.”
“Thanks.”
“Unless…do you want me to come along too?” Nathan asked hopefully.
“I'll feel much better knowing you're here watching out for her. She's really important to me.”
“Okay. But if you want company, all you have to do is ask.” Nathan pointed his camera at Ephraim's face. “There are those tears I was looking for!” he said.
Ephraim scowled and wiped his eyes. “Let's go.”
When he returned to Zoe's side, she silently opened the controller and held it out to him. She pressed a button, and the coin rose so he could take it. There was no need to reprogram the coin; the air around it was hot, indicating it was primed to go as soon as he touched it.
“Ready?” Zoe said. She grabbed his arm, and Jena took his left hand.
Ephraim reached for the coin. Just before he touched it, the disc wobbled and the controller's screen flickered. He pulled back his hand.
“You're sure that thing's working?” he asked.
Zoe frowned and tapped the screen. The coordinates for Nathaniel's universe flickered back on, and the coin repositioned itself by ten degrees. “Yes?”
“Great…” Jena said.
“Maybe you should stay behind,” Zoe retorted.
Ephraim shrugged. “In for a quarter, in for a pound.”
“It's ‘in for a penny,’” Jena said.
“Inflation.” He dipped his hand and closed it around the coin, pulling it out of the air.
The air rippled, expanding spherically from the coin in his fist. The parking lot became a hazy mirage around them, and Ephraim glimpsed a tall, dark building from another universe: the Institute where Nathaniel worked. He'd seen it once before, from the inside, when they'd dropped the older man off.
Then the shimmery sphere around them abruptly contracted, like a taut rubber band being let go, and the coin pulsed with sudden heat.
But they were still in his universe.
“Is this it?” Jena asked. She burped and covered her mouth. “Sorry. I suddenly don't feel well.”
“Something's wrong,” Zoe said. “We didn't shift.”
Ephraim shook his head. He'd felt something. As if his stomach were being stretched like taffy and then pounded back into shape with a sledgehammer.
“What are we doing here?” Shelley asked.
“Wait. What?” Ephraim asked. He looked at Shelley. “Are you all right?” He looked around. “Where's Mary?�
�
“Right here,” Shelley said. She waved her hand. “Hello. But why aren't we at the prom? Where's the limo?”
“Mary was standing right next to me,” Nathan said. “They both were.”
“What are you talking about?” Shelley asked.
“Your sister,” Jena said. “Where's your sister?”
She stared at Jena. “Where did you come from?” She looked at Zoe. “I didn't know you had a twin, J.”
“You're supposed to have a twin, Shelley,” Jena said.
“I think I'd remember that,” Shelley said. “And why are you using my middle name?”
They stood in stunned silence.
“Ephraim,” Jena said. “What's going on?”
“I don't know,” Ephraim said. “I've never seen this before. In some universes there's only one Mary Shelley Morales. Twinning is a random event, so it's just a matter of probability—”
“How can you be so calm? Something happened to our friend!”
He didn't remind Jena that he'd once watched Nate shoot one of her analogs dead right in front of him. It was hard to say which was the worse way to go.
“She's gone,” Zoe said. “I thought I imagined it. I only saw it out of the corner of my eye while we were shifting. It was like one of them merged into the other one.”
“Guys, what are you talking about?” Shelley asked.
“Just a second, Shell…er, M.S.” He looked at the others. “We need to talk.” Ephraim and the others walked over to the closed gates of the park. He looked back at the single, confused Morales girl. He'd never seen anyone look so lonely before.
Jena was crying. “Is she dead?”
Ephraim shook his head. “She might be…nonexistent.”
“Then we shifted to another universe, after all,” Jena said. “We just left her behind, and this is a different version of her.”
Ephraim looked at her empty bucket and at Nathan. “No, we didn't. Zoe, is it possible that an analog switched places with her at the moment we shifted?”
“Anything's possible at this point. But I don't think so. I saw them…combine. That's the only way I can describe it. I'm sorry. This is effed up.” She tapped her upper lip nervously. “It must be related to what just happened with the coin and controller.”
“Why doesn't she remember everything that happened tonight?” Nathan asked. He looked pale and completely freaked out. “She acts like Shelley, but it isn't her. It's like she's both of them.”
