Adventures of Elegy Flynn

by Chambers, V. J.

  I nodded.

  “This was the only place I could pick up his thread,” said Elegy. “It’s towards the end of the festival, so it’s probably too late to stop him from doing whatever it is he’s going to do. But we’ve got to start somewhere.”

  I peered out at the roaming hippies. “Which one is he?”

  Elegy closed her eyes. “He’s close. He’s walking towards us.” She opened her eyes and pointed. “Right there.”

  I looked in the direction she was pointing and saw a man walking slowly, looking around. He looked worried. He didn’t look that much different than the other hippies who belonged in 1969. He didn’t have a beard and his hair was shorter, but he seemed to be wearing pretty authentic clothes. He saw our pavilion and ambled over.

  “Excuse me,” said Jimmy the time traveler. “Have either of you seen a girl?” He raised his hand to about chin level. “She’s about this tall. Got long blond hair. We were supposed to meet here.”

  Both Elegy and I shook our heads.

  “Haven’t seen her,” said Elegy. “Why don’t you wait for her here in the shade? We’ve got cold beer. Do you want one?”

  Jimmy shuffled his feet nervously. “I don’t know. I should probably keep looking for her. We were supposed to meet at least twenty minutes ago.”

  “Twenty minutes?” Elegy shook her head. “I think you got stood up.” She went to the keg and poured him a beer.

  “No, she wouldn’t do that,” said Jimmy. “We were going to go away together.”

  Elegy handed Jimmy the beer. “You were planning on going away together with someone you met at Woodstock? You traveled a pretty long way to get here, didn’t you?”

  Jimmy gave her a funny look. “Thanks for the beer.”

  Elegy pulled me aside. “This could be it,” she whispered. “Maybe he stayed here in 1969. Maybe if we stop him from doing that, it will stop the paradox.”

  “Maybe,” I whispered back.

  “If this girl shows up, we separate them.”

  I nodded.

  But when we turned back to Jimmy, he was gone. He’d left his empty beer glass behind.

  “Where did he go?” I asked.

  Elegy shut her eyes again, concentrating really hard. “No... He’s gone back to the time portal. He’s going back to his own time period.” She opened her eyes, looking confused. “This wasn’t it. This wasn’t what we need to change.”

  I chewed on my lip. “Didn’t Harmony say that one of Jimmy’s ancestors was at Woodstock?”

  “Right. He interacted with that ancestor in some way that changed the course of who he was supposed to be.” Elegy considered. “Maybe I can track the thread of the ancestor. We can go at this the back way.” She squeezed her eyes shut again and opened them almost immediately. “The ancestor is right there.” She pointed.

  A girl with long blond hair was standing right in front of the pavilion. She smiled at us tentatively. “Have either of you seen a man? I was supposed to meet him here, but I lost my watch, and I didn’t know what time it was. I’m late.”

  Elegy and I exchanged a look.

  “You haven’t, have you?” The girl’s face fell. “I know it sounds crazy, because I just met him two days ago, but I am head over heels in love with that man. We were supposed to go away together.”

  Elegy walked over to the girl. “Sorry. He’s not here. I don’t think you’re ever going to see him again. You didn’t happen to have... unprotected sex with him, did you? Are you ovulating?”

  The girl made a disgusted face, turned on her heel, and stalked away.

  Elegy waved her hand and the front of the pavilion suddenly had a side. We couldn’t see out anymore.

  “Oh my God, Elegy,” I said. “That’s disgusting. You think he went back in time and got his ancestor pregnant? That is like extremely twisted incest.”

  Elegy shrugged. “We’re talking a couple hundred years here, Cathy. They really are distantly related. I don’t know if it’s exactly disgusting...” She considered. “It might be a little disturbing.”

  “Well, it would make sense, I guess. Because he was the one who would go back in time to do this. And with his DNA in the mix, when baby Jimmy was born, he wasn’t the same baby Jimmy.”

  “Exactly,” said Elegy. “Maybe he was different enough that he never would’ve even gone back in time.”

  “Thus negating his own existence,” I said. This was kind of intense. I took a deep breath.

  “Well,” said Elegy. “We’ve got to stop them from having sex.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “Near as I can tell, she was going to get pregnant one way or the other. She came to Woodstock in the mood to hook up. So if we stop her from hooking up with her great great great great great great grandson, she’ll hook up with someone else, and then everything will go back to normal. And the paradox will be fixed.”

  “How are we going to stop them from having sex without leaving the bar?”

  Elegy shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the more pressing problem is the fact that I can’t follow his thread.”

  “What about the girl’s?”

  Elegy didn’t answer for a while. “Everything so tangled up. I keep trying to follow something and then realizing I’m not on her thread at all. I’ve somehow jumped to someone else’s.” She rubbed her temples. “Okay. I think I’ve got something. Hang on.”

  The pavilion lurched. Several of the kegs fell over. For a second, the interior of the bar flashed in front of our eyes. Then we settled again jerkily.

  Elegy and I were both thrown to the ground. She stood up, brushing herself off. “Gotta say I don’t love time traveling in Woodstock.”

  We were still in the pavilion with all of the sides drawn. Elegy waved her hand and the front disappeared again. We were in an empty field. Jimmy and the girl were sitting in front of us, their backs to us. It was dark.

  I looked at Elegy for a cue. Should we get their attention?

  But Elegy shook her head. “I’m making us invisible. Let’s just listen for now.”

  Elegy and I moved right up to the edge of the pavilion. We could hear their conversation.

  The girl had her head lying on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I could tell right away when I saw you that you were different.”

  Jimmy brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m not that different.”

  “You are. There’s something about you.” She giggled. “I guess it’s because you’re from so far away.”

  “No,” said Jimmy. “There’s something about you.”

  And then they were kissing.

  When they stopped, the girl spoke again. “Tell me again that this isn’t crazy. We barely know each other. Tell me again that we can work.”

  Jimmy looked deep into her eyes. “Listen to me. Have you ever felt this way before?”

  The girl shook her head.

  “I haven’t either. Whatever this is, it’s real. It’s love. We are meant to be together. I believe it.”

  She sighed. “I believe it too.”

  And then they were kissing again.

  “When we made love, it felt like the universe was shifting positions, that time was rearranging itself to allow us to be together.”

  Elegy closed the pavilion. “More true than you know,” she muttered. She looked at me. “Too late. They’ve already done it. We have to go earlier.”

  I was starting to feel a little sad about the entire thing. “They sound like they’re really in love. It’s kind of a shame that we’re going to take all of that away from them.”

  Elegy raised her eyebrows. “Two minutes ago, you thought it was super disgusting incest.”

  She was right. It was unnatural and wrong. “I don’t know. Did you ever read that Flowers in the Attic book? They were brother and sister, but because of their situation, they fell in love with each other. It was inevitable and tragic. And maybe these two...”

  Elegy poured herself a beer. She gulped at it. “I wish I would’ve put some liquor in this pavilion.”
She gestured to the keg. “You want a beer?”

  I shook my head. Elegy was avoiding what I said. “Just because things didn’t work out between you and my brother doesn’t mean that things will never work out in love.”

  “Their love causes a paradox, Cathy. Maybe it’s tragic, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Do you want to just leave things the way they are? Let Harmony keep containing that paradox?”

  I sighed. She was right. There was nothing we could do for them. “I guess not. After all, fixing paradoxes is what we do.”

  “Damn straight.” Elegy chugged the rest of her beer. “We’ve got to go earlier to fix this one. Now if I could just follow her thread...” Elegy’s expression suddenly went extremely strange. “That can’t be,” she said to herself in a barely audible voice. She looked at me. “It’s because you mentioned him. That’s the only reason...”

  And suddenly the bar was moving, jerking around even worse than before. I swayed on my feet and then decided to just sit down. It wasn’t worth the trouble. Of course the ground was sort of heaving and weaving as well. Eventually we came to a crashing stop. I was pitched backward.

  Elegy was on her feet, waving her hands so that all the sides of the pavilion disappeared. We were up closer to the stage. I could see it in the distance, but I couldn’t make out who was playing. The dancing crowd stretched out in front of us. They were facing away from us, facing the stage. Except for one person. One person was facing our pavilion.

  My brother. Reese.

  He gave us both a lopsided grin. “I’ve been waiting for you guys.”

  * * *

  Elegy had changed the pavilion back into the bar. We were nursing drinks and sitting together. Elegy and Reese were on the couch, holding hands. I sat opposite them.

  “I was starting to think you’d never figure it out,” said Reese. “I’ve been getting Fates to drop me off in Woodstock after every paradox I fix ever since we worked together to stop that guy who wanted to get his girlfriend back. Before that, I didn’t have a lot of hope. But after I saw you, and I knew it was possible, I had to try. Woodstock is such a mess that they’d never find us here. It could be a place. Couldn’t it?”

  Elegy was grinning. “You’re a smart one, Reese. I knew there was a reason I had fallen in love with you.”

  “And I can see Catherine too,” said Reese, grinning at me. “You still doing okay?”

  I nodded. “I’m happy to see you. But I can make myself scarce if you guys want to... you know... I have to admit it’s kind of disgusting thinking about my own brother doing that, but I get it.”

  Elegy smirked. “Well, that’s very gracious of you, Cathy.” She looked at Reese. “And trust me, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now than that. With you. But I can’t leave Harmony guarding that paradox for any longer than she absolutely has to. Not when I know how to fix it. She’s my friend, and she’s been there for too long.”

  “You’re working on a paradox?” Reese said. “You don’t have a volur.”

  Elegy and I explained the situation to Reese.

  “We have to go back to before they met and stop them from ever seeing each other for the first time,” finished Elegy.

  “I think it’s sad,” I said. “They’re in love, and it’s not their fault that they’re causing a paradox.”

  Reese sighed. “Love and fate don’t always work together very well.” He squeezed Elegy’s hand. “I can help. I can move around freely outside the praxidikai.”

  The whole thing made me upset. It made me even more upset now that Elegy and Reese got to be together. It wasn’t fair. They were breaking the rules, but they wouldn’t break the rules for other people. Then I had a thought. “Wait. Elegy, you remember how you explained to me that a paradox only happens right when the first thing changes. Like, when you saved Tesla’s life, because it happened in the bar, outside of time, it didn’t cause a paradox. What if we put them inside the bar? Wouldn’t that stop the paradox?”

  Elegy shook her head. “No, not in this case. See, the paradox is happening at the point when Jimmy is born. It’s not happening here in Woodstock, because time is too screwy here.”

  They really couldn’t be together. It wasn’t fair. I sighed.

  Elegy squeezed her eyes shut again. “Okay, hang on. I’m going to move the bar. I think I’m going to get the right place. It’s pretty early in her thread.”

  Everything in the bar started vibrating. Barstools fell over, glasses broke. We clutched our chairs for dear life. Abruptly, the bar stopped moving.

  Reese righted himself. “Kind of a bumpy ride.”

  Elegy shrugged. “That’s the weirdness of Woodstock for you.” She stood up. “Okay, she’s right outside the bar. He’s getting ready to walk over to her. All you have to do is distract her until he walks by.”

  Reese nodded. “She’s got blond hair, right?”

  We nodded.

  “Back in a jiff,” he said. He strolled out of the bar.

  Elegy and I started righting barstools and picking up broken glass.

  “How do you handle it?” I asked. “How do you deal with the fact that the way that fate is written, it’s completely messed up and cruel? How do you deal with all the pain? All the injustice?”

  Elegy looked up at me with a piece of broken glass in her hand. “I drink a lot.”

  The door to the bar opened, and Reese came back in. He wound an arm around Elegy’s waist and kissed her on the cheek. “Mission accomplished.”

  She turned in his arms and kissed him on the mouth. “Great.”

  He pulled away. “But I’ve got some bad news. I saw Clothos’ praxidikai dock just as I was coming back in here. I’m pretty sure she’s picking me up for a job. I’ve got to go.”

  Elegy’s face fell. “Of course you do.”

  “I’ll come back to Woodstock, though. Everyone thinks I like the music. Or maybe the drugs. I don’t know. But the next time you get a chance, come find me.” He kissed her again. He was out the door before either of them could say goodbye.

  Elegy stood still for several seconds. Then she took hold of the bar stool that she just sat back up right and hurled it against the ground. “Dammit.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say.

  As it turned out, I was saved from having to say anything. The TVs in the bar came back on, and Harmony’s face filled them. She was grinning. “You did it, sweetie! I don’t know how exactly you pulled it off. But let me tell you, I’m grateful.”

  Harmony didn’t see it, but I did. Elegy dashed tears off her cheeks before turning up to see her friend, a big smile on her face. “Anything for you.”

  “I’m sure the big guns will figure out some other horrible punishment for me at some point. But I figure I’ve got a good bit of time before they even realize that I don’t have a paradox to guard. I bet I can get in some fun before then.” Harmony laughed. “Thanks again, Elegy.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Sorry to cut this short,” said Harmony. “But that fun I was talking about? I figure I’d better get to it. I don’t want to waste time.”

  “Don’t let me keep you,” said Elegy. “You deserve all the fun you can have. See you around.”

  “Until next time.” The television switched off.

  It was deadly silent in the bar. Elegy picked the bar stool back up. She heaved a deep sigh and then sat down on it.

  “Elegy,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want him to leave either. We’ll see him again though. We will, won’t we?”

  She smiled wryly. “Funniest thing about being trapped in the praxidikai. I have absolutely no idea what the future will bring.” She laughed a little. “You still want to see Jimi Hendrix?”

  Afterword

  I conceived the idea of Elegy Flynn sometime in the summer of 2011. I was still teaching high school English at the time, but I was on summer break. My book sales had just taken off, and I was making more money from writing per month than I did from my regula
r job. But I spent the last few weeks or so in a funk, because the thought of going back to work depressed me. I desperately wanted to never go back there, to just write for a living, but I was too afraid to risk it due to the volatile nature of book sales. I had a particularly bad situation at that school. The administration and I didn’t really see eye to eye. I’m a crap disciplinarian, so I’m not very good at dealing with lower-level kids, who always behave badly. And though I enjoyed working with upper-level students, their parents tended to get annoyed with me for pushing the envelope too much and dealing with controversial subject matter. So, overall, I thought about going back to work, and I just wanted to die inside. So, to hide from the fact that was happening, I began mainlining Netflix. I watched Doctor Who every day for hours and hours on end. And, as you’ve seen, it’s pretty obvious that the stories owe a lot to Doctor Who.

  When I did go back to work, I ended up writing the first three Elegy Flynn stories. I was planning on writing it as a web serial, since I first got my start self-publishing by posting my novels one chapter at a time on my website. I was going to do one Elegy Flynn story a month in 2012, and I figured that if I had a three-month buffer, that would mean I could stay ahead of the game and have stories written ahead of time so that I wouldn’t be scrambling for material each month.

  Well, anyway, my work situation ended up exploding in December of 2011, and—even though my book sales had tanked at that point—I had enough money saved up to live for a few months, so I decided that I’d just make a go of writing full time and see what happened. I thought this would mean that I had more time to write Elegy Flynn, and so I started publishing the stories.

  Turned out that I was wrong.

  First of all, the Elegy Flynn stories didn’t sell, and very few people even read them. (Possibly no one? I’m really not sure. No one ever contacts me and says, “Hey Valerie, what happened to Elegy Flynn?”) When I was working full time, I wrote tons of stuff that no one read or bought, and I didn’t really care, because I did not need my writing to pay my bills. But once writing money was paying my rent, it began to seem sillier and sillier to take time to write stories that A) made no money and B) pretty much no one cared about.