by Nikki Harmon
I sit there, my mind racing though all of my thoughts are too fast and too slippery for me to hold on to. I can feel Amy feeling bad for me and I don’t want her pity. What I want is some space. Or the blue pill. Or to wake up from this crazy-ass dream. What I get is her offering to make me some tea. I accept. It will have to do. She leaves my side and ambles across the room to the little kitchenette area. I sit feeling stupid and embarrassed and overwhelmed. A tiny little bit of a secret that I just (re)discovered about myself is apparently common knowledge to everyone else … well, not in this timeline but still … The more I think about it, the more I’m not surprised. I am very curious about what I’ve been doing but here comes Amy with the tea. It is hot and sweet and good. Ahhh.
“I will not risk the life of my baby.”
“I know, I wouldn’t either”, she says. “I know this is hard to digest, but if you jump into another timeline, this “you” continues and this … you will stay with your husband and have the baby. But you and I will have to leave this here and now to finish the conditioning and training.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Well, it’s not easy but it’s not so hard for me. What will be hard will be taking you with me. I’ve never jumped with another person before, but we have to end up in the same timeline to do the work.”
“And what happens to me here?”
“You have a bit of disorientation and some memory loss but not complete. You will remember some of tonight and our earlier meeting, but it’ll be like a dream you had or some late-night TV show you watched half asleep. That’s why we have to do it soon.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want to build up a lot of memories about this, us, you. It’ll be harder to shake and harder to go on with your normal life.”
“So, tonight then.”
“Yeah, tonight.”
“What about them? Will I see them in the next … timeline?”
“Maybe but not on purpose. I’ll set up another meeting time and we’ll all meet back here at this house, maybe in a month. I think we can be done in a month if I push it.”
“How can you choose which timeline to jump to?”
“I’ll teach you that later. But we have to pick the right one. Where you and I can both exist, living our normal lives in Philly.”
“Not 23AK, though right?”
“Oh my God, no, that’s where we will end up sooner or later but that’s the crux of the whole problem. No, we have to find a good timeline, one without an impending crisis.”
We walk over to the map and the whole gang tries to help us pick. I suggest 29XH, the time when we meet in the future but everyone shakes their head no, that could jeopardize the future’s outcome, which already happened. I nod not really understanding. We look through Amy’s five lines trying to determine if there is one she would risk changing but she is resistant. We look at my lines, I can’t remember what happened in them and they can’t be sure. We decide that if I jumped out of them, perhaps there was something traumatic that should not be revisited. We think about creating a new timeline but no one can assure me that I will not carry my pregnancy into it. I have to co-create the line and no one thinks I can jump back or forth along the timeline.
After much debate, we decide to do a blind jump. I will concentrate on the one thing that I know to be different about me in the other timelines, and on the one person I believe I was involved with, Savvy. If I try to focus on deciding to be gay and being with her, maybe Amy can push us into a timeline where that is the reality. Craziest plan ever. But I can’t deny that I’m a little intrigued.
With our next meeting date set, I say my goodbyes to my new co-conspirators. Did Sujatha’s hug seem extra-long? (Did I actually just think that?) Amy and I leave the safe house and steal to my car parked across the street. I hold my breath the entire way.
“Let’s drive to your block so you will get home ok,” she says.
I nod and start driving. I try not to think the obvious things. I’m leaving my husband, my mom and dad and brother and sister. I’m leaving my home and my job, my students … ahhhh…my students. I’m leaving my baby behind. And Jen … what will happen to Jen? I’m walking out for what? This crazy chick beside me? I glance at Amy. She looks sane but what if we try this thing and nothing happens? Then I’ll know myself for a woman who would leave it all behind and where will that leave me? I’m starting to panic. I’m driving slower as we get closer to my neighborhood. Amy reaches out to touch my hand. I glance down a small street and see two figures playing basketball. I think one’s a girl. I see locks or braids swinging. I suddenly think of Meer from high school. I don’t know why but it sends a shiver down my spine. Meer. I haven’t thought about her in ages but now I can’t stop repeating her name in my head. There are no thoughts or memories, just the name, like a pickaxe banging out a rhythm. A block from home, I pull over and turn off the radio. I didn’t even realize that it had been on the whole time. The sudden silence does not affect the mantra of Meer. It continues on in the background. I try to clear my head and focus. Amy sits patiently beside me.
My block is quiet. Porch lights are on but most of the house lights are off. There are a few second-floor windows glowing blue but most are not. A four-minute walk puts me home, in my bed, under my covers. Amy finally breaks the silence.
“You do have a choice to make now, Kim. You can stay here and resume your life and there is nothing anyone else can do about that. Or you can take this jump with me. I’m not sure where we will end up but I promise to do my best to keep you safe and prepare you for the challenge we have in front of us. It’s your choice.” She reaches out again and this time entwines her fingers with mine.
I look down the street towards home, then turn to see Amy’s anxious face. The clock reads 11:58pm. I think I can faintly hear the thumping of a basketball. Meer again? The roar begins dully in the back of my brain but intensifies. My eyes blur and Amy’s face blurs. I squint, she’s saying “Make a choice, Kim. Choose Savvy”. She holds my hand even tighter. I envision Savvy from high school, smart, beautiful and intimidating. I imagine my husband, warm and cozy in bed. I think of space, I was/am/will be working at NASA? And Meer resurfaces again. Why am I thinking about her? Focus, Kim, focus. The roar is deafening. Tilt left and I can see me getting out the car. Tilt right and I can see me driving off. My hair looks different. I think I shout, “now!” And I am shoved sideways. I turn to protest but no one is there.
∆∆∆
I shake my head to clear it. Why did I pull over here? This isn’t even on my way. Weird. I take a sip from my Wendy’s cup. Mmm …. Ice cold Coke! That clears away the cobwebs. I look around and find my container of fries has a few fries left, and still warm. I look in my rearview, turn up the radio and pull off. I head down Greene Street. I can cross the drive and jump on Washington Lane. I can get home from there.
Chapter 25
Squinting against the morning light, I am cozy and warm in my old bed. I can smell pancakes and bacon. I can hear my mother bustling about in the kitchen. Aahhh… I had forgotten how nice it is to have somebody cook for you. I stretch out slow and lazy like my old cat Chuckles, who is a warm unmovable lump beside me. I have two whole weeks to do nothing. Spring semester is over and I am relieved and happy to have finished my second year of this doctorate program. Next year starts the good stuff … more field research, flying to the Tesla headquarters for my co-op orientation, and beginning work on my dissertation. Well, not actual work, but researching to write the proposal and to get funding. There will be so much to do, but not today. Today, I sleep, eat, chat, read and hang out with my brother and sister who I hardly know anymore. In June, I head back down to Huntsville, Alabama and my NASA summer fellowship. All is right in the world. Well, my world anyway.
The rest of this shitty world is going to hell in a handbasket, but that’s ok because by the time it does, I’ll be on Mars. That sounds messed up but it’s true. The economic collapse of Europe is cascad
ing over here and all hell will soon break loose. I’m no economist, but I have friends who do statistics for fun and, at first, they were enthralled and amused by the rollicking fluctuations of the world economy. Then, they started to pull their money out of banks and put it in home safes with their newly purchased gold coins. But I didn’t worry too much until they all bought bikes, mobile hydroponic gardens, and solar chargeable everything. I’m getting a bike as soon as I get to ‘Bama. Europe seems to be slipping back into feudalism. Independent African countries are dissolving borders, raising up dictators, and laying down human rights. Asian countries are consolidating under China’s economic umbrella as “associated territories”. South and Central America are prospering as the Middle East did decades ago through the drug trade, which has quadrupled as people are determined not to witness their own society’s decline. But I digress. Yes, the world’s economy is collapsing but my mama is cooking pancakes and bacon and that is my current drug of choice.
“Well, here you are! I thought I would have to send Maya in to check your pulse. Did you know she’s decided to be a nurse? I’m so proud of her. Nurses will always work. People are always sick!” I have brushed my teeth and thrown on a robe for my family. It’s so weird being in a house with people. I have gotten quite used to being alone.
I sit down to eat and listen as they discuss their plans for the day. My mother is taking Maya to meet friends at the library for a Mommy and Me book club. Walt Jr. is headed to basketball practice and a game, and my step-dad has a honey-do list the length of my arm, his first stop being Home Depot. They each invite me along but I don’t want to intrude on my siblings’ social activities and Home Depot on a Saturday? Nope.
I decide to try to connect with some old friends. I can’t remember the last time I’ve gone out for drinks. I call Jen at her mother’s house. I knew she wouldn’t be there and I was right. She hasn’t been home for a year. I talk to her mom for a while but learn nothing new. Jen still sends money and gifts but keeps changing her phone number so there’s no way to contact her. We end the call because there is no way to comfort each other. We both miss her. We both have regrets. Disheartened, I call Kendra. She is very busy today but can definitely do drinks tonight. That brightens my mood somewhat.
I jump in the shower. The water is hot, and the water pressure is much harder than the one in my apartment back at MIT. While I’m in there, relaxing and rinsing my hair, a memory tugs at me. The sound of the water, the thrumming of it on the hard plastic is making me feel kind of woozy. I’m forgetting something. I start running through my academics. Wrote my papers, turned them in. I’m sure of it. Completed my paperwork for this summer, turned off my lights and shut off my cable at my apartment, answered my professors …. What am I missing? Something is nagging me, like a small child is tugging at my hand trying to get me to go somewhere. I rinse off and step out. Turning off the water helps. The bathroom is steamy and the house is quiet as I dry off. I look in the mirror. I’m just a gauzy blur. I wipe my hand across it and I let out a little yelp. I see a woman looking back but she doesn’t look like me, or not the me I thought I looked like. Her face is thinner, her mouth is harder, her hair, my hair is in a short ‘fro. I blink and stare until … of course, of course, that’s me. I cut my hair last year because I started swimming and it just made it easier to take care of. One less thing to worry about. I remember being worried about it being too dykey or too black or too different from my classmates. Turned out that it didn’t matter. I was already too dykey, too black and too different. Locks or fro, it made no difference. Anyway, with a scarf, earrings, and lipstick, I reclaimed all my identities and focused on what was important. Astrophysics and whether or not I would be able to get into space. The mirror steamed back up. I wiped it again but this time was not shocked or surprised to see my own determined face. Now … I have the whole day to myself… Netflix binge? Sleep? I look out the window and see the new green leaves not yet at their full length on the dogwood tree. Maybe I’ll take a walk on the drive. I love Kelly Drive in the spring.
∆∆∆
I had forgotten about the many regattas in the spring. As I am being detoured around the drive, I cross Diamond Street and decide to take the ten-minute drive down to see my alma mater. Maybe I’ll stop in and see if any of my old professors are around. I wonder if the same food trucks are there – I miss those crispy dumplings! Maybe I’ll see if that chick, Bennie, still works at the library on Saturdays. We flirted for two years straight. I don’t know why I never asked her out. Busy, I guess.
I get to the campus feeling happy and nostalgic but am soon disenchanted. There are just a few random students wandering here and there, a couple of grimy food trucks but not the ones I like and Bennie is off today. My attempt at nostalgia just makes me feel pathetic, like an old chick hanging out at the bar trying to look cool just in case somebody is looking. I never want to be that woman. But here I am, haunting old haunts, wondering if anybody still knows me. I’ve already parked, might as well complete the tour and see if Patel is around. I take a turn to go to the science building, pull open the heavy front door and am struck by the familiar odor. It smells the same – like chemicals and cleaner and something designed to mask them both. It’s a weird non-smell smell, like something trying to be nothing at all. A woman is coming down the hall. She looks familiar. I start to lift my hand in greeting but I realize I don’t know her. That’s why I am startled when she walks right up to me and hugs me.
“Kim! Where have you been? That didn’t go as expected, right? Weird. I don’t think we are where we are supposed to be.”
I look at her and try to think. I must know her, right? She knows me but what the hell is she talking about?
“Hi…. I’m sorry, do I know you? Maybe you are confusing me with a different Kim?”
She studies me.
“You don’t remember me? Amy?” she says.
“No, sorry. I just came to see an old professor. I used to go here.”
“Yeah, I know. You didn’t come to see Professor Patel, did you?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. Did we take a class together?”
“Oh God,” she says, “This is a mess.” She rubs her temples with her fingertips but doesn’t stop looking at me.
“Ok, sorry you are having a bad day but I have to get going. Nice meeting you, Amy? Take care.” I sidestep to the right of her and start to walk down the hall to Patel’s office when I feel a thump on the back of my neck and I drop to the floor.
∆∆∆
“Kim? Kim? I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know what to do … thank God it’s Saturday. How much do you weigh? I don’t remember you ever being this heavy,” Amy babbles. I am lying on my back, looking at fluorescent lights and a white drop ceiling. Something seems familiar. I turn my head towards Amy’s voice. My head pounds and my neck muscles pull taut, but I can see plants and lab tables and desks all around me. It all seems familiar, maybe I’m in an old lab room? I try to sit up but realize my wrists are bound to the table. What the hell!!!
“Amy? What is going on here? Take these things off my wrists! I want to sit up.”
“Sorry Kim, but if you don’t know me then we are not in the right place. Trouble is, I need you to understand before we can do something about this, and you won’t understand unless you listen to me.”
So I try to pay attention but I’m pretty pissed off and only half listen. Most of it makes no sense at all until she starts talking about Joan.
I met Joan when I started Temple as a sophomore. Joan was already everything I wanted to be. She had the best scholarship, she had the best work-study, she was smart and kind and we studied together for advanced org chem class. And that’s when something strange happened that I tried to forget about. We were in the library, heading to our favorite nook in the corner of the second floor, near the window. It had two loveseats and a table with outlets. We would plug in our laptops, phone chargers and each takes a couch. We got up there one evening just as the sun
was setting and we saw a couple making out on our couch. Now, we didn’t own the couches, but that didn’t matter. We were pissed because we wanted the seats and who the heck was there getting busy in our personal studying space? In the moment of our hesitation, when we were deciding what to do, I had the weirdest daydream. I saw Joan do two things – she tapped the couple and asked them to leave and she turned around and asked me where I wanted to go. She did those two things at the same exact time. For that brief moment, I saw two of her. I heard two of her. Nauseous and panicky, I turned away and walked towards the wall. Then I felt her touch my shoulder and ask if I was all right. I shook off the vision. I pushed it way, way back because it was so unnerving and made myself forget about it. Months later, when Joan was found dead way up in Lancaster, I thought back to that weird moment, but then again, I pushed it away because why? What would that figment of my imagination have to do with the fact that my friend was dead? I missed her. By junior year though, she was just a memory. Her absence was just another challenge to overcome in my busy college life which was moving full steam ahead, so I pushed her and her mysterious death back, way, way back while I moved forward.
Now this girl, Amy, is asking me to trust her. She brings in a vine, the name “Mable” pops in my mind, no idea why, she brings in spray bottles, which are labeled with all kinds of pheromone names. She asks if any of these look familiar. They don’t. She asks me if I have ever changed my mind about anything important. I can’t recall anything. She asks me what was the last decision I made today. I can’t remember any. She’s getting exasperated and keeps looking at her watch. I have to pee.
She picks up the bottles and pumps a couple of sprays from each. The mist drifts down on my face. Some make me sneeze, some smell very pleasant, some irritate my eyes. I’m starting to get scared and ask her to stop. She tells me to wait one more minute and walks out the room. My gut tightens with fear. That woman looks harmless, but she has sprayed me with chemicals and left me here tied up on this table. I should be more afraid. I should be more panicked but I am calm. I strain my neck and try to read the labels on the bottles. I try to taste my mouth. What if she drugged me? Why am I so passive? Just as I have that thought, a blast of light/electricity/cold ripples through me. I don’t know what it is or where it came from, but my body, which had felt relaxed and solid, feels looser. My body parts have expanded, my physical form unmoored from its center, drifts ever so slightly out, then like a gentle wave, crests back onto itself and settles. Now, I am panicking. My body, back together, ripples in the wake of whatever the hell that was. My head, my brain, my thoughts … still expanding and Amy’s crazy talk is creeping back from where I pushed it and starting to make sense. Parallel universes, jumping timelines. I close my eyes in desperation. I hear the door open and close. Somehow, I can smell her. She smells different than everything else in this room. I reach to touch her and she takes my hand.