Doctor Quickly hands me the last few tools to put away. “You have the smarts, Ben. You never would have made it home if you didn’t. And I know you have courage. The chronothon proved that. Just promise me that if the day comes when you find yourself up against something you know you can’t handle, you’ll keep her out of the fight. Make sure you bring her home.”
I nod slowly. “I will. I promise.”
Doctor Quickly keeps his eyes locked on mine for just a second longer, then drops them to the bike, his tone back to the task at hand. “Well then. Looks like you’re ready to roll.”
I lift the garage door and survey the shadowy streets. “I think I’ll take it for a spin real quick. See if I can get the hang of this sidecar before I take on passengers.” Doctor Quickly helps me guide the bike out into the driveway and closes the garage door for me as I get it started.
“Abraham and I will be heading out,” Doctor Quickly says. “I’ll be back in the morning for Carson.”
“You have somewhere safe to stay?”
“Abe has a few tricks up his sleeve. We’ll be fine.” Doctor Quickly waits till I pull out into the street, then waves and heads back inside.
I take it slow at first, getting a feel for the turns and enjoying the quiet streets. The sidecar is an odd sensation to get used to. I can’t lean into the curves, which throws off my sense of balance. My first few turns are sloppy, the extra wheel of the sidecar coming off the ground and causing me to weave all over. I’m happy to be testing the new rig alone and not with Mym on the back. My promises about being a good rider would seem pretty hollow.
The stars are out and the air has cooled. I ride along the bay and through downtown, then make my way south on some of the side streets. I decide to try out the time travel functions of the bike, setting my chronometer for a one-second jump, then setting my timer to tick down from ten. I extend the grounding wire and let the timer count down. I jump as expected, skipping over the required second. I try it a couple of times, wondering what I must look like to anyone who might be poking their head out of their curtains, an old bike vanishing and reappearing in spurts down the street.
After a few successful jumps, I stow the jump cable and go back to cruising. I end up in the Old Southeast neighborhood without much thought, but since I’m here I decide to check up on my alternate life.
Lights are still on at Kaylee’s house. I park the bike and approach the porch cautiously. I don’t really know the protocol for calling on another self’s life, especially late at night.
Through the window I can see Kaylee on the couch. Other Ben is standing on a stool replacing a light bulb in the living room ceiling fan. I can’t really think of a reasonable way to get to him without alerting her so I simply wait till he’s done and knock. It’s Kaylee who answers the door.
I’ve had the experience of seeing different versions of the same person before and I know the strange feeling it causes as your brain tries to process through it. It’s much more amusing watching it register on someone else’s face.
Kaylee is a pretty girl. More so when she has her mouth closed. Currently she’s staring slack-jawed from the doorway and does a double-take of the other Ben in the living room. He shakes his head at me from beyond the coffee table. I notice the bouquet of roses has disappeared.
“Not very subtle, are you?” He steps around the table to join Kaylee.
“Oh. My. God. Are you serious right now?” Kaylee has regained her composure and is scanning both of us rapidly. “Benji, you didn’t tell me you had a brother!”
Benji? I note the sour expression on the other me’s face. I wonder if he really is the Benji I know—the old man I met in the desert when all this started. He certainly seems to be developing the grouchy attitude.
“You never mentioned me, Benji?” I chide.
My other self flips me off. I just smile. I’m pretty sure Kaylee knew the basics of my family tree when we dated, but retention of facts was not always her strongest trait. She grabs my hand and drags me indoors. “Oh, wow. You guys look so similar. It’s like you could have been twins. How much younger are you?”
I glance at Benji, but he just shakes his head.
“I think we are going to have to tell her anyway,” I say. “She may as well know the secret.”
“Secret? What secret?” Kaylee’s eyes are wide, but she seems oddly energized by the suggestion. She’s literally bouncing on her toes at the sight of the two of us together and whatever mystery it might entail. The effect on her ample bosom is hard to ignore. The top she has on is not doing the best job of containing her exuberance.
Benji notes my drifting gaze. “Let’s talk outside.” He brushes Kaylee’s arm. “Kayls, I need a minute with my brother, okay?” Benji points toward the porch and I back out the doorway, holding the screen door open for him. Kaylee starts to say something in the way of an objection as Benji steps outside, but he simply shuts the door as if he hadn’t heard.
“You look like you’re having fun.” I put my hands in my pockets and lean against the porch railing.
“She’s not the issue. Don’t worry about my situation. What are you doing here?”
I study his face. He looks annoyed.
“I thought I’d let you know that I’m going to be doing a bit of traveling. Figured you could use the apartment if you needed to. And our other stuff.” I hold my phone out to him. “Temporarily anyway.”
Benji reaches for the phone and inspects it briefly. “All right.”
“And I put a bunch of money in the checking account. I won some money recently and set myself up with the bank to just automatically pay all my bills. I actually bought the apartment the other day. Seemed easier.”
“You bought the apartment?”
“Well, I had to buy the house next door too because they’re on the same property, but yeah, basically. Saves me from having to ever pay rent. Thought that might be useful since, you know, I’m traveling a lot.”
“Just can’t sit still, can you?” He sinks into a patio chair.
“Lots of world to see,” I reply.
He shoves the ashtray away and rests his arm on the table. “Just because the universe rings the doorbell, doesn’t mean you have to answer. Sometimes a simple life is enough.”
“I’m . . . managing. What happened to you, man? It’s like a couple years away and all of a sudden you’re ready to pack it in. You want me to dial you up a nice senior living center, reserve you a rocking chair and a sponge bath?”
Benji shakes his head. “I know you think the Quicklys are where it’s at. I won’t burst your bubble, but they know the universe isn’t half as rosy as you seem to think it is. They’ve seen their share of the shit out there. Probably caused some of it.”
“I’ve seen my share of shit, too. I raced a chronothon. That wasn’t a summer picnic. Doesn’t mean I want to crawl into a hole and hide.”
“Yeah, well, wait a little. This time travel mess? It gets to the point where you can’t even remember what normal life was, and you couldn’t get it back if you tried. I know you have your time traveler girlfriend and you think you’ve got it all under control. You think you can handle it. I won’t try to stop you. Just know that the grass doesn’t really get greener out there. It gets dark. Really dark.”
“Noted.” I straighten up. “Well, if this little sunshine session is over, I guess I’ll get going. Glad you and Kaylee can play house or whatever. I’ll bring you over some crocheted doilies next time so you can keep your furniture pretty. Maybe a case of Ensure.” I step off the porch and head for the bike.
“Ben.”
I pause and appraise my older self. He’s standing now, one hand on the porch railing. I wonder if he’s about to wish me safe travels, repentant for being such a downer.
“I think it’s best if we keep our lives separate. I don’t want you telling Kaylee about time travel.”
I turn around, gravel and sand crunching under my sneakers as I take a few steps back toward him.
“You’re going to try to pull this brothers act off with our friends? Kaylee is one thing, but it’s not like other people aren’t going to notice the difference.”
“I’ll keep an eye on things while you’re gone. Then, when you get back, we’ll divide things up somehow. Keep it fair.”
I glare at him, at once angry and hurt. I feel like I’m getting broken up with. Ditched by someone I never wanted around anyway. “Listen, man. I’ll do what I want. You can pack up and go whenever you feel like—”
“When you come back.” His response cuts me short. He just stares at me, his eyes unrelenting.
“Whatever, man.” I spin on my heel and head for the bike. I snatch up my helmet and start strapping it on. “Make sure you call Mom next week for her birthday. And don’t be a dick.”
“You’re going to see, Ben. It’s not what you—”
I drown him out with the roar of the engine as I start the bike. I rev the throttle a few more times just for emphasis, but Benji doesn’t attempt to speak again. He just watches from the porch. I make more noise than necessary as I peel out of the driveway. I sneak one look in the side mirror as I roll away, but Benji is already headed back inside. I shift gears and launch north toward home.
What’s with everybody tonight? First Doctor Quickly, now this? I try not to wonder what Benji knows about the Quicklys that he would consider “dark.” I attempt to write him off as simply jealous of the life I’ve found, but even the thought rings false. I know him. I know me. Whatever he’s talking about is more than just the stuff of petty rivalry.
Moths dance around street lamps as I navigate the way home. I blaze by in a fury of noise and leave them to their fruitless worship of the light. I follow my own solitary beam through my neighborhood and up the driveway to my garage. The living room windows have gone dark.
The door to Tucket’s room is closed, but light is still illuminating the floorboards. I find Mym in my bedroom.
“Hey, you.” She looks up from her novel and smiles. Something about the image of her sitting there triggers a feeling of déjà vu. I pause, but then shake off the sensation, too weary to deal with any more temporal confusion.
I flop onto the bed next to her and rest an arm across her lap. “I just want to sleep this evening out of existence.”
“What happened?”
“Other self problems.”
When she keeps waiting for an explanation, I give her an abbreviated account of my talk with Benji. I leave out the conversation with her dad.
“He thinks we’re bad for you or something?” Mym’s brow is crinkled in concern.
“I don’t know what he thinks. Somebody clearly pissed in his cornflakes somewhere along the line because he’s being a tool.”
Mym frowns. “This is another you we’re talking about.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going to end up like him. Freaking bitter old man.”
“He’s not that much older than you,” Mym replies.
“Yeah well, he’s older. So old man is what he gets. Especially if he just wants to pack his life away and call it a day.” I roll onto my stomach and bury my face in the pillow, my extended hours finally catching up with me.
Mym nestles down at my side. “I don’t know. You’re the one who wanted a relaxing day at home.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Well, I was wrong,” I mumble into the pillowcase. I lift my head and find Mym’s intense blue eyes only a few inches from mine, studying me. I kiss her softly before stuffing my face back into the pillow. “Tomorrow, we go time traveling.”
Chapter 7
“As a child I had hoped to be an astronaut. When I learned I did not meet the requirements for NASA, I was initially heartbroken. Fortunately, the qualifications to be a time traveler were yet to be written. Truly new frontiers merely require the vision to find them.”-Journal of Dr. Harold Quickly, 1969
The Neverwhere
There is a concrete barrier on the curve of San Joaquin Boulevard just before it heads downhill. The concrete is scuffed and marked from the occasions when it performed its function of keeping inept drivers and stumbling pedestrians from inadvertently hurling themselves down the rocky grade beyond. Besides being a deterrent to wayward travelers, the flat concrete blocks make a sturdy outpost for viewing the vista beyond.
Benny and I are seated on the barricade with our feet dangling, facing the sprawling view of our childhood town. Oregon was a peaceful part of my life, an era of bike riding and tree forts. My friends and I ran in the wooded hills till sundown, coming home with clothes stained from weeds and fingers darkened by blackberries. The nighttime meant hide-and-seek in the neighborhood, lying prone in neighbors’ flowerbeds, then dodging street lights and racing for home base, breathless and exuberant.
The view of town is quiet now, though lights do still illuminate the twilight. I can’t be sure if it’s my own memory or Benny’s populating our surroundings. Studying the houses below I spot details of homes that I wouldn’t have known I remembered. Benny is quiet beside me, musing at the scenery. It seems a familiar routine.
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
Benny wrinkles his nose as if the question itself is distasteful. “No time here. Too hard to say. I think . . . I think sometimes that maybe I’ve always been here.”
I try to ascertain if he’s trying to be metaphorical. “But how did you . . .” I trail off, not sure how to approach the subject gently.
“Die?” he asks. He turns toward me just slightly, studying me with one eye. Then he looks away. “Everybody wants to know that.”
Staring at the vacant city streets I try to guess who “Everybody” could mean. I wait him out, just watching the fog shimmer at the edges of the woods and in the gaps between memories.
He finally speaks. “They all lie, you know? They tell you that you’re going to Heaven. That you’ll see all your loved ones on the other side. Nobody talks about this.” He waves a hand angrily at the air.
I ponder his words for a bit before responding. “This place is something, though. Something real enough to interact with. Definitely not Heaven, true. But do you have any idea where we are?”
“No. This place is nothing. It’s a glitch. The space between spaces.” He chucks a broken fragment of concrete down the hill. “At first, I thought there had to be a way on from here. Like maybe this was Purgatory, and God was just making me wait. Wait, wait, wait. Like if I was good enough, He’d open a door, let me in to where everyone else is.”
“No door?”
“No.” He studies another fragment in his hands, turning it over in his fingertips. “I don’t know what that means. I’m not good enough? There is no God? I don’t know.” He chucks that fragment too. “I don’t know where the others went, but they sure aren’t here.”
“What others?”
“The other ones. The dead people we know. Grandpa, Uncle Tom, Mrs. Donovan’s kid—all of ’em. They should’ve been here, right? If this was where you go when you die, where is everybody?”
He cups his hands and yells down the hill. “COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!” The yell echoes off the houses around us. His hands drop to his lap and he stares.
I gaze with him into the dim twilight. No children spring from flowerbeds. No one races for home base.
“What do we do then? Just hang out? Remembering things?”
Benny shakes his head. “No. We can’t even remember what we want to. If I go there . . .”
I wait for the rest to come, but it doesn’t.
“The guy in the desert. The one you saved me from. Does he know something about this place? Like maybe a way on?”
Benny narrows his eyes. “Zurvan. He’s not going on. I’ve watched him. He’s definitely not looking for any door to Heaven. He’s going back.”
“Back? What do you mean? Like back to being alive?”
“He’s preparing. Making plans. He talks to people. Sends messages.”
“To who?”
“I don’t know, but they listen. They send messages to him, too.”
I recall the man’s deep voice and brooding expression. My mind objects to the thought, still sore from the attack, but I can see his eyes boring into mine, his hand stretched out to crush me.
“No. Don’t.” Benny grabs my arm. I look down to my clenched fist and notice that the top of the concrete barrier where my hand is resting is now dusted with coarse brown sand. Benny brushes it off rapidly and gets to his feet, dragging me up after him. “Never bring him here. Never.” He jumps off the barricade, leaving me behind as he strides down the barren street. He stops and holds his hands out. The air shimmers ahead of him. The opening appears again, tiny at first, but then larger. Through the shimmering portal I recognize the outside of my apartment in St. Pete. The three-quarter moon still hangs in the sky above it. Benny steps through the portal and gestures for me to follow.
As soon as I’m through, I turn around, but it’s as if our detour to Oregon never happened. I’m looking down Oak Street again, bathed in the humid Florida night air. Benny has his arms crossed and seems to be shivering despite the warmth. He doesn’t make any move toward the apartment, giving me the hint that this stop was for me, not him.
“You’re leaving?” I don’t mean to sound worried, but it comes out that way.
“Have some things to do. Can’t stay.”
He’s avoiding eye contact. I don’t press the issue. Instead, I take a new tack. “I need you to teach me.”
Benny finally meets my gaze, but his eyes narrow. “Teach you what?”
“This.” I gesture to the air behind me that we just appeared through. “I need to know how to get around the way you do. Change places. See the past.”
Benny shakes his head and his shoulders sway back and forth with it, almost as if he’s rocking himself. “Too much to learn. No time.”
I frown at him. “I know there’s no time. That’s why I’m asking. If Zurvan comes back—”
“Shhhhh. Don’t talk about him!” Benny glances about as if expecting the turbaned man to spring from the bushes. “Not here.” He backs away from me and turns toward the corner.
In Times Like These: eBook Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 114
