“Come on,” I tell the dog. “Show time.”
5
“She said I have the makings of a true explorer,” Sarah tells her parents. She laughs right along with them. “She did! Tell them, Halli Markham.”
“I must have,” I admit, although I have no memory of it. Maybe the real Halli told her that while we were all together in the Alps.
“Explorers don’t need sums and calculations,” Sarah argues. Apparently there’s been some discussion about her performance in school. “All they need is a stalwart heart and an excellent sense of direction. Tell them it’s so, Halli Markham.”
“Those will get you far,” I say. Although I’m pretty sure Halli has needed math throughout the years as part of her navigation and planning.
But it’s so much fun to watch Sarah and Daniel with their parents, I’ll go along with whatever anyone says.
We’ve been enjoying a late afternoon snack of tea and toast. “I would have loved to serve you something proper,” their mother, Francie Everett, told me as she set out the jars of jam while simultaneously giving her children the stink eye, “but no one told me we’d have a guest. Not to mention such a famous one.”
“Sarah’s idea,” Daniel had answered, holding up his hands in surrender.
“She enjoys being treated like a regular, average, boring person—isn’t that true, Halli Markham?”
“Absolutely true,” I agreed. I’ve had a taste of Halli’s fame, and I didn’t like it one bit. “Besides,” I told Francie, “this is better than anything I could have had in a café.”
“Liars are always welcome at my table, of course,” Francie said, “but one of us will still have to go to the market if I’m to serve you anything for supper except leftover soup and more toast. And I assume your companion would enjoy some food as well.”
She reached down and scratched Red behind one of his ears. The dog gave a thump of his tail. It was true, I didn’t seem to have any food for him. It was nice of Francie to think of it.
“I’ll be happy to reimburse you,” I told Francie and her husband, Sam Wheeler. Although I wasn’t sure how I would do that. I know Halli has lots and lots of money, but I have no idea how to access it.
“Don’t be daft,” Sarah scolded me. “You’re our guest.”
“I’ll go to the market later,” Sam offered at the time.
But right now, he’s still too busy discussing Sarah’s ambition to become an explorer.
“What about the histories?” he asks me. “I imagine anyone traveling the world needs to know who the people are and where they came from. Not to mention understanding a few languages—French, for example.” He gives Sarah a significant look, which I take to mean she’s failing in that class, too.
“Oh, pish posh,” Sarah says, waving her hand dismissively. “You know nothing of the great explorers. The only history I’ll need is to reread all of Halli’s and her grandmother’s journals. As for languages, I’ll rely on the oldest form of human communication.”
“Grunting?” Daniel suggests.
“How very droll,” Sarah answers. “No, for your information, I have been practicing signs.” She demonstrates by pinching her fingers together and bringing them up to her mouth.
“Kiss me?” Francie suggests.
“Precisely,” Sarah jokes back. “And this one?” She wraps her arms around her torso and pretends to shiver.
“Hug me?” her father guesses.
“Yes,” Sarah says. “So you can see I shall have all the love and protection I need out in the greater world. Halli Markham would be a fool not to take me on as an apprentice.”
Sarah pops a last piece of toast into her mouth and rises from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go run Miss Markham a bath. My mistress is weary from the day, and although she’s far too polite to say so, she finds her present company especially wearisome. Your bath will be ready in just a few minutes, Miss. I hope you enjoy the scent of lavender.”
“Thank you.” I smile at Sarah and she gives me a little bow. Then she leaves me alone with the three people I need to talk to most.
It was nice relaxing for a little bit and just enjoying the company. But I have to seize the opportunities as they come.
Liars are always welcome at my table …
“So … speaking of school,” I say, “I’ve been thinking about applying to Oxford.”
It’s the only information I have to go on. When Daniel visited me in the hospital a few days ago, he told me that he and his parents had just met with a professor at Oxford and described everything that had happened to me—from the whole traveling between universes thing to the piercing headaches that kept me trapped in a hospital. The professor told them he’d seen a case like that before.
What? How? When? But Daniel said it was too complicated, and I needed to hear the professor’s story for myself.
Which was fine, in theory, except I ran out of life before I could do it.
Just like the professor warned them might happen. He said my condition could deteriorate. He said I could die.
And since he was right about that, I need to hear the rest of what he has to say. As soon as possible—tomorrow.
“Oxford?” Daniel says, obviously surprised. “Not that you wouldn’t excel there,” he hurries to add, since I’m sure he doesn’t want to offend Halli, “but … I didn’t realize you were interested in formal education.”
He’s right, of course. The real Halli has absolutely zero interest in school. She proved that within the first hour of having to sit through one of my classes and pretend to be me. She could barely wait to escape.
“I wasn’t before,” I say. “But now with Ginny gone … I just thought it might be a good direction to take next. You know, a new challenge.”
“It would certainly be that,” Francie says. “Oxford. Very competitive place, you know?”
“I know.” I almost laugh. The fact that I’m sitting in their kitchen right now is a direct result of trying to get into another competitive college, Columbia University. That seems like a lifetime ago.
Technically, considering where and who I am right now, it really was another lifetime.
“What would you want to study?” Francie asks me.
“Science of some sort.”
Now Daniel looks really shocked.
“A friend of mine got me interested in it,” I say, giving him a significant look.
“Oh.” He smiles at me in return. He knows I’m talking about Audie, but his mother assumes I’m referring to him.
“You’ve told her about your studies?” Francie asks him. “Well done,” she tells me. “You should feel very flattered. Daniel rarely tells anyone what he’s been working on—”
“She wouldn’t be interested, Mum.”
“Of course I would,” I say, and it’s true. But Francie is right: I’ve noticed that Daniel always seems to deflect attention away from himself anytime we start talking about his schooling. He told me he knows a little about science and about plants, but that’s it. And Sarah said he’s interested in something called “neurobotany,” but then I think Daniel changed the subject.
“So tell me,” I say. “I want to know.”
“I’ll bore you with it some other time,” he answers. “Now, what about you and Oxford? Does that mean you’d move here?”
“I don’t know, I suppose so.”
“How soon?” Daniel asks.
See, this is why I needed a bath first. I should have worked out all of the elements of my lie before I tried it out on people.
“I’m not really sure,” I say. I don’t know why Daniel is pushing me so hard. He should know Halli’s life is complicated.
But looking at his expression—this combination of both eagerness and caution—I think maybe I get it:
He’s asking because of me. Audie. And the pleasure of that realization brings a nice warm flush to my face.
The way it worked before, I could visit Halli wherever she was—the Al
ps, Colorado, wherever. Which meant that if she ever went to London, I could visit Daniel, too. It was why he looked so disappointed this afternoon when he asked me if Audie was here, too, and I said no. He probably assumed I’d come along.
I love that he cares about that. But I can’t let him see how happy that makes me. I have to act like it’s no big deal.
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Sam tells me, “but there’s no guarantee they’ll accept you. As Francie said, it’s highly competitive. Simply deciding you want to go there isn’t enough.”
“Right,” I say, getting back to business. “I know that. But Ginny told me if I ever wanted to go, I should talk to this professor friend of hers there. She said he could help me get in.” I hope that sounds plausible. Ginny Markham was famous all over the world. She probably knew a professor or two.
“Who is it?” Sam asks.
“See, that’s the thing,” I say. “I don’t know his name. She told me this a long time ago. I was hoping maybe you guys could help me find out who he is.”
“It’s possible,” Francie says. “Sam went there for a time.”
“And elsewhere for a time,” Sam adds wryly. I’m sure there’s a story there. “What college is he in, do you know?”
“I don’t know.” I remember that Oxford is broken up into a bunch of different colleges with very British-sounding names, but I have no idea what they’re called or which ones belong to which subjects.
Francie laughs lightly. “You’re not giving us much to go on. Do you know anything about him at all?”
“Yes, I do. He’s very old—ancient,” I say, using Daniel’s description of him. “He’s practically deaf.”
“That could describe fifty percent of the faculty,” Sam says. “What is his field? What does he specialize in? Classics, languages, mathematics …”
How am I supposed to explain it? He’s someone who knows what happens to you when you switch bodies with someone in a different universe. “It’s sort of …”
“Ready!” Sarah calls down from upstairs.
“Just a minute!” Think of something, Audie. “It would be … some kind of unusual science. Something about …” I glance at Daniel. He’s watching me, very still. He’s probably wondering if I’m going to tell his parents Audie’s and my secret. As little as I can. “Something about physics. Or maybe … parallel universes.” There. I said it. Daniel looks only mildly surprised.
Francie and Sam both process that. “Binty?” Sam asks his wife.
“No, Binty is more of the supersciences,” Francie says. “Do you mean fringe science?” she asks me.
“Yes,” I answer. “Maybe. What would that be?”
“The philosophical sciences,” Francie says. “Theories rather than practice.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Sure.”
“It’s Venn,” Daniel says with great confidence.
“Venn?” his father repeats with a chuckle. “Haven’t seen him in decades. Is he still alive, then?”
“Professor Lacksmith mentioned him the other day,” Daniel says. “It sounded as if they met fairly recently.”
“But he’d be over a hundred by now, wouldn’t he?” Sam asks.
Ancient, just like Daniel said.
“Well, one way to find out,” Francie answers. She gets up from the table and retrieves a small tablet from the kitchen counter. She sits back down and starts swiping and poking at the screen.
“I’m not a magician!” Sarah calls down the stairs. “I cannot return cold to heat! If you want me to draw you another bath, I will, but this one smells so heavenly!”
Be a good sport.
“Coming! I’ll be back in a little while,” I tell Daniel and his parents. “But if you can find out anything about this Venn guy—if you think he’s the right one …”
“Doctor Venn,” Sam corrects me. “Wasn’t I brought up for that once myself?”
“Prickly, is he?” Francie asks.
“I imagine he has to be careful,” Sam says. “Professors in his line—not much respect from his colleagues. Probably made even his wife call him doctor.”
It reminds me of the things other physicists said about Professor Whitfield back in my world. The way they made fun of him and lied about the success of his experiments, just because what he discovered threatened their nice, neat view of the scientific world.
Dr. Venn is sounding more and more like the right person.
“I don’t mean to be a pest,” Sarah calls down. “But the bubbles!”
“Oh, for goodness sake, I’ll go take the bath,” Francie mutters.
“Mum, it’s the hardest she’s worked in months,” Daniel says. “Give her credit.”
“My hearing is exceptional, thank you!” Sarah calls.
I can’t help but laugh. Even in the midst of all this.
“Please find out what you can,” I ask Daniel. “I’ll be back in a while. Come on, Red.”
Sarah isn’t the only pest. There’s something that’s been nagging at my brain—something that’s off. Something important.
Now it’s time to finally give it my attention.
6
You weren’t supposed to say that.
I sink into the scent: not just lavender, but vanilla, too. Sarah was right: heavenly. The dog stretches out on the rug beside the tub. Peace has descended on the land.
He wasn’t supposed to say that.
It’s tricky, traveling across space and time.
Especially when things have already changed on their own before you even got here.
I sort of noticed it in the moment, but then there was so much else going on. The formality: it wasn’t just an act for the other people, it was real. There was no secret eye contact, no “Wait until we’re alone again—I’m going to kiss you straight out of your mind” kinds of looks. The way Jake was acting toward me was true.
There’s nothing going on between us this time. Our past together was already different before I showed up today.
And I didn’t do a thing to make that happen.
Same with Red’s reaction to him: crazy different. Last time, Jake completely endeared himself to Red by the end of the first day, throwing a stick for him over and over and over while Red chased it into the freezing ocean. Unless Jake secretly kicked Red this afternoon while I wasn’t looking, their relationship was already different by the time I got here.
So what does that mean?
That’s the point: it’s not enough to see it, I have to understand the why behind it.
For all I know, my whole survival might rely on some very subtle whys.
Because if I just keep going along, making decisions and choices based on only partial clues or evidence I’m in too much of a hurry to notice, I might end up right where I was last time, leaving this life way too early before I have a chance to reclaim the life I really want.
I sink all the way underwater. Let myself float. Block out the world for as long as I can.
What do I know? That’s the most important question right now. Not just what do I think or believe, but what do I actually know?
My physics teacher Mr. Dobosh said something in class once that really stuck with me: about how all these great scientists in the past—the real pioneers who were willing to risk their careers and sometimes even their lives in pursuit of the truth—had to learn to recognize truth in the first place. They had to be willing to free their minds from what everyone else told them was true—that the heavens revolved around the earth, for example, or that a particular disease was caused by rats, or whatever someone’s parents or society or other scientists had said—and instead go on this journey of discovery where they looked at everything fresh again. Asked questions. Assumed nothing.
I suppose you could say that’s how I’ve ended up exactly where I am right now. Some physicists, including Mr. Dobosh, don’t believe parallel universes exist. I thought they might. So I set out to experiment with that, and here I am.
I come up for air and an
nounce to the dog, “I’m a pioneer.” He thumps his tail on the rug. “Yeah, I know. Big deal. Figure it out.” I sink under the water again and blow some bubbles. I’m sure Einstein used to do that, too.
So, Audie Masters, what do you know is true?
One: This is not my original body.
Two: This is not my original universe.
I know those two things for sure.
Three: The last time I checked, Halli Markham was inhabiting my original body in my former universe. I briefly shared that body, so I know that much is true.
Four: I know that I have been in Halli’s body in this universe one time before this. I have specific memories of that life, starting with waking up in her body in her bedroom in Colorado, and ending with me dying in a hospital bed—
Stop. Do I really know that for sure? That I died? Did I really see it or experience it?
Well, not exactly. I sort of left that movie early. I remember feeling tremendous pain and then deciding I didn’t want that anymore. Next thing I knew, I was floating for a while, feeling very peaceful and pleasant again, and then I found my old body sleeping in my old bedroom. What a happy discovery that was. But then it all ended up in that fight with Halli, and then she pushed me out—
Stop. Do you really know that?
I felt a push.
Can you say with one hundred percent certainty that Halli is the one who did that? That she’s the reason you left?
Okay, no, not a hundred percent. So that one goes in the Maybe pile, along with the dying. Maybe those two things happened, but a true scientist wouldn’t assume. So I won’t.
So where does that leave me?
I know where I am, I know who I am … and that’s about it. I don’t know what’s going on with Halli right now or with my old body and my old world, because if things have already changed here, maybe they’ve changed there, too. I have no way of knowing. I’d have to guess.
There’s a gentle knock at the bathroom door. “Halli, we found him,” Daniel says, keeping his voice low. “I thought you’d like to know.”
“Yeah, I did. Thanks.”
“And your driver brought your luggage,” he adds. “I’ll leave it outside the door.”
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