When You and I Collide

by Kate Norris

  “Scott, the clock? That could have just been some kind of malfunction. But the sun? I saw it speed up.” Winnie frowned. “What I don’t understand is, other people must have seen it too, right? It was uncanny! Why weren’t people panicking about it on campus?”

  “I don’t know. But if you’re right, there’s no way anyone else saw it, because if they had, it would be all over the news.”

  “It did happen! I swear!”

  “I believe you, I just—what if it only happened that way for you?” Scott paused, and seemed to think for a moment. “What if time skipped ahead for the rest of us? Like someone picking up the needle on a record player and moving it past a song they don’t like.”

  Winnie considered this for a moment, but it didn’t make any sense.

  “Why would I be aware of what was happening if no one else was?”

  Scott looked at her hard. “Because you’re the hand lifting the needle.” Scott sank into one of the tattered armchairs. He looked so exhausted. “I guess this is what happens when you violate a natural law.”

  Winnie hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but she was still full of sick guilt.

  “Everything seems fine now, though,” she said uncertainly.

  “For the moment.”

  Winnie stood abruptly. She knew Scott was right, so she headed over to the kitchenette to brew them some coffee.

  However “fine” this moment was, they had a very long night ahead of them.

  * * *

  • • •

  The streets were quiet that night as Winnie, Dora, and Scott walked to the subway station that would take them to the school.

  If everything went as planned, Winnie would be home in a matter of hours.

  It was very hard to believe that everything would go as planned.

  The three of them made their way to the platform that would take them uptown, too nervous for small talk. After a few minutes, the train pounded into the station in an assault of screeching brakes, hot rushing air, and—was that the echo of a ship horn? Impossible. They were nowhere near water.

  “Did you hear—” Winnie began, but Scott and Dora were already hurrying onto the train. Winnie followed them onto the mostly empty train car. Their odd bundles of equipment got a strange look or two, but no one said anything.

  Winnie set her piece of the Faraday cage on the floor by her seat. She caught her reflection in the dark window across the aisle, cradling the delicate, carefully wrapped electrometer in her arms, and felt a pang of uncertainty. She looked like a little girl holding a doll, not like someone on the brink of solving a great scientific mystery, about to break the barrier between worlds and travel back in time to save the man she loved.

  “What do you think it will look like when you go?” Dora asked suddenly.

  Winnie was grateful to be distracted from her doubts. She thought a moment, but she had no idea. “Like magic,” she said finally. “If it works.”

  “Don’t say that,” Scott said. “It’s going to work.”

  She wondered if he was really as confident as he sounded.

  * * *

  • • •

  Beta was waiting for them outside the school gate, as planned. She had stolen the groundskeeper’s key ring earlier that day. It was strange to think of her double—this girl who shared her face—having her own separate part in the planning that Winnie knew nothing about. She imagined the girl sneaking into Mr. Bidwell’s shop out by the track. Had she found this task thrilling or terrifying?

  Beta gave Scott a quick hug, which was made a bit awkward by the Faraday cage bundle he carried. Winnie looked away, trying not to think about how she had fallen asleep with her head on his pillow the night before.

  “You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Winnie asked, hanging back to keep a careful distance from her double.

  “No, not too long.”

  Dora scanned up and down the street nervously. “Let’s get inside.”

  After a bit of fumbling with her stolen keys, Beta was able to unlock the exterior gate, which she quickly locked again behind them. They entered the building itself through a side door sheltered from any possible prying eyes by an overgrown broom shrub. Once inside, the four of them walked the halls quiet as cat burglars, their flashlights cast at the floor in hopes that the rogue beams of light wouldn’t draw attention from any passerby.

  Winnie thought her double seemed the least nervous of them all. Seeing Beta stride the halls of her school so confidently made Winnie think about just how little of herself she ever let show there, even though she was an exemplary student. When she was around her classmates, in the cafeteria or during any social event, Winnie was always all folded in on herself, everything but her intellect tucked away. She envied Beta her apparent self-assurance, and wondered, not for the first time, where it came from.

  Their worlds had diverged in the accident that killed Mama. Beta had been asleep when the crash happened. Could that tiny detail really be the crux of it all? Beta was her, minus a lifetime of guilt over crying out and causing the accident? Her, minus the splinters?

  Seeing this other life, this better life, and knowing how close she had come to having it for herself made Winnie painfully aware that any moment could contain the seed of your undoing.

  It was an awful thing to know.

  They reached the gym, and Beta unlocked the heavy metal doors. Winnie found the panel of light switches and flipped a pair. Two of the caged pendant lights hanging from the tall ceiling switched on. After the dark of the halls, it was painfully bright. Winnie switched one of them back off.

  “You’re sure no one outside can see?” Dora asked.

  “How?” Beta said gesturing around the gymnasium. “There are no windows.”

  Judging by Dora’s furrowed brow, this didn’t allay her fears. Dora had the least to gain from their venture, but she was still there with them, enduring just as much risk.

  “Thank you for being here,” Winnie said, with a smile she hoped didn’t look as worried as she felt.

  Dora smiled back. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  Scott and Winnie carried the two halves of the Faraday cage to the middle of the room and set them down on the floor, right on the center line of the basketball court. The maroon markings showed up livid as blood against the honey-colored wood.

  “You were brilliant to think of this place,” Scott told Beta. “The court markings will make it even easier to measure everything out.”

  Winnie had to admit the location was pretty much perfect. She wished it had been her idea.

  Winnie helped Scott prop up the sections of the cage, and she, Beta, and Dora all worked together to hold the sides in place while Scott soldered the open edges of chicken wire together. This was simple in theory, but the process took ages.

  Winnie met her double’s eyes from across the cage, then quickly looked away. She didn’t want another bloody nose. More than that, she wished they could have connected somehow—been more direct allies without her double making Winnie doubt everything about herself.

  If they succeeded and Winnie went back in time, would that be enough to make everything go back to normal for each of them? She had been so preoccupied with saving Scott that she hadn’t really wondered what would happen to the world she left behind.

  Once the Faraday cage was assembled, Scott set up the other equipment. Winnie left the arrangement of the electrometer and the generator to him. Scott had more experience, and he was the one who would be using them, so she wanted him to make sure they would be safe. Winnie would be secure in the cage, so if anything went wrong—

  No. She refused to let herself finish that thought. Nothing would go wrong. Scott was sober and cautious, not in a drunken rage like Father had been when he set up the experiment that had been so disastrous. But for the first time, Winnie was glad Bet
a was there. She didn’t think Scott would take undue risks with his own safety, or with hers, but with Beta there, he would be doubly cautious.

  “I think we’re ready to begin,” Scott said finally, “if you are.”

  No matter how meticulous the experiment design or elaborate her daydreams of returning home and rescuing Scott, Winnie found herself unprepared for this moment.

  “So, I should just . . . get in the cage?”

  “You can say your goodbyes first,” he said. “Once the generator starts, it will all be set in motion, and then . . .” He trailed off with a shrug.

  And then she would wait for his signal, and it would all be up to her.

  “And then . . . poof!” Dora said, smiling faintly. “Just like magic.”

  Winnie smiled back at her. “I’ll just click my heels together three times and think there’s no place like home . . .”

  She didn’t know if the reference would hold the same significance for Dora as it did for her, but the girl’s face lit up, and Winnie knew the two of them must have seen it together here too.

  Dora leaned in and hugged her tightly. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered.

  “I’ll try,” Winnie said. She admired the way Dora had accepted her into her life and home, how the girl had been willing to roll along with such an inexplicable occurrence—it was an ease her own Dora shared, and Winnie reminded herself that she ought to appreciate her friend more. She intended to, if she got the opportunity. “Thank you so much, for everything.”

  Beta approached next for her goodbye, staying a half dozen careful feet away. The two of them stood facing each other.

  “Will you grow your hair out?” Beta asked, surprising a laugh from Winnie.

  “I honestly haven’t thought about it.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t. It looks better like this,” Beta said. Then she added suddenly, “Are you afraid?”

  She was. Of many things.

  If they succeeded, she’d go back in time about six days before the accident. Before she had agreed to help Scott find James. Before she had met Schrödinger.

  But even though she was going back, there was no real going back. She would still know her true parentage. And she couldn’t keep going along with Father’s splinter experiments.

  If Winnie wasn’t his eager assistant and willing subject, then what was she to him? Would he even want her in his house anymore? It was one thing to tell herself she was brave enough to stand up to Father, but what would happen if she actually did?

  Winnie thought of her cozy room, her reading chair snug under the attic eaves. Rebelling against Father meant giving up the only security she’d ever known.

  Even before she found out about Schrödinger, part of her had understood that things couldn’t keep going the way they had been forever. But she’d known that for a long time, and still, she hadn’t left. Was she really strong enough to stand up to him now?

  “Yes,” Winnie said. “I’m afraid.”

  Beta smiled reassurance. “Don’t worry. You managed the trip just fine once before.”

  “It’s not only the trip I’m afraid of. It’s what comes after,” Winnie said. “If you ever do see a splinter, never let your father know,” she added, almost desperately.

  Beta’s smile faltered, then faded away entirely. She nodded, then walked away, back behind the line demarcating where she, Dora, and Scott would be stationed during the experiment.

  And then there was Scott. The only farewell left.

  Winnie gave him an uncertain look, not knowing if it would be appropriate to embrace him, unsure if he would want her to. She wanted to, desperately.

  She was silly to have wondered.

  Scott held her for a long time. Winnie was sure he would have to explain himself to Beta later, and she appreciated that their goodbye was important enough to him to risk her jealousy.

  Winnie thought back to their first embrace, just a few moments after she made her way into this world. She thought about their kiss.

  She couldn’t be certain, but she would have bet anything that Scott was thinking about that kiss too.

  He pulled away first. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he said with a crooked smile. “Sort of.”

  Winnie nodded. She knew that if she tried to speak at that moment, she’d cry—not pretty tears either, but awful, racking sobs—and that wasn’t how she wanted their goodbye to be.

  “And when you see me,” he added, “don’t be shy about . . . you know. Okay?” His eyes had a mischievous glint.

  “Oh, I don’t intend to be.”

  Winnie had her doubts about what awaited her back home—what Father would do, what she would do in return—but she knew one thing for certain: Scott would know how she felt about him. When she saw him, she would hold him tight and never let him go.

  “You’re ready?” Scott asked softly.

  She didn’t feel even a little bit ready, but she nodded anyway.

  Winnie entered the cage and shut the door behind her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The generator was an old model Scott had taken from the campus laboratory. He’d given the old thing a tune-up, and then modified it to output 900 milliamperes, same as Father had done.

  Scott switched on the diesel-powered generator, and Winnie could hear the engine start to strain almost immediately. It was being asked to output more amperage than it had been built for, so this was to be expected.

  Father had always said how much he admired machines for their predictability. They always did just as they were asked. The laws of mechanics were so clean. A machine could break down, but it would never act out, and once you opened it up, there was no mystery to what had happened. Quantum mechanics were practically mystical by comparison—odd and contradictory. Why had Father decided to study unruly electrons? He would have been happier with bolts and gears. Happier, Winnie thought darkly, with a clockwork daughter who never disappointed him.

  The generator continued its work, feeding current onto the surface of the Faraday cage. Winnie began to feel the vibration in her teeth. Dora and Scott and Beta were far away from her, all the way on the other side of the gym—thank goodness for Scott’s binoculars!—and while the distance was reassuring with regard to their safety, she felt terribly alone in the cage.

  Winnie was completely trapped there. If she tried to exit the cage before the current discharged, she would be electrocuted, and Scott wouldn’t even be able to turn off the generator, or he would be electrocuted too.

  All she could do was wait. Wait for the overburdened generator to self-destruct. Then wait for the charge to dissipate enough for her to be safe, while still leaving enough charge in the atmosphere to approximate the conditions of her first trip.

  “What’s the reading so far?” Winnie called to Scott, who had his binoculars trained on the atmospheric electrometer.

  “Nothing yet,” he said with a frown.

  “Should I start jogging?”

  She was supposed to run in place in the cage while intentionally hyperventilating to simulate the physical effects of the fight or flight response. Given her anxiety about the situation, it should be no challenge to whip herself into a frenzy.

  Scott’s brow furrowed in thought. He looked terribly nervous.

  “Yes,” Scott said finally, “go ahead and start. But save a bit of energy for later. It might be a while before the generator blows.”

  “Maybe you did too good a job on that tune-up,” Winnie said, smiling faintly.

  Scott grimaced. “Maybe I did.”

  Winnie began to run in place. She kept her breath shallow and quick. She didn’t follow Scott’s advice to conserve energy. If she failed, it wouldn’t be because she didn’t try. As long as she didn’t push herself so hard that she fainted, it would be fine.

  Her ears began ringing almost immedia
tely, and she began to feel dizzy. It was working.

  “The generator,” she called, panting, “is it louder?” The engine’s whine seemed to have increased in pitch, but Winnie wanted to make sure that wasn’t just because of her proximity.

  “Yes—we’re getting close, I think.”

  It was almost time.

  Winnie surrendered to panic.

  It was oddly freeing to give rein to her fears, rather than trying to tamp them down. In her mind, she took herself back to Father’s basement laboratory, back to the night of Father’s cruel cat-in-a-box experiment. Scott was right in front of her—he’d been electrocuted. She saw the scorched lab coat. Imagined the smell of the singe. Remembered the smoke—burning her lungs, burning her nose. She breathed even quicker—in out in out in out—through her nose until she felt the burn.

  “I’m getting a reading from the electrometer,” Scott called. “A high one. Be ready after the generator goes, but don’t leave the cage until I say it’s safe.”

  The muscles of her thighs were trembling. She wasn’t much of a runner. Her right calf began to cramp, but she ignored it.

  Focus on Scott. He’s dying! He’s dead!

  She timed her quick breaths to the bleat of that word in her head—dead dead dead. Tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked.

  “Are you okay?” Dora cried, but Winnie ignored her. She knew she was scaring the girls, probably scaring Scott too, but she couldn’t simultaneously reassure them and command her body to panic.

  The poor generator was trying so hard. Such a diligent worker. The kind Father liked best. The engine screamed, the keen of a dying animal, then—abruptly—stopped.

  “Wait!” Scott reminded her. “Wait until I give the all clear.”

  Their Faraday cage was intentionally ungrounded, like Father’s had been that day by mistake. The charge on the cage would dissipate rather than arc, because there was no conductor close enough to arc to.