“I doubt it,” Grandpa Foster muttered loudly enough for all to hear. “Go on then,” he said directly to me. “Let me hear for myself this tale you spun for my bleeding-heart son.”
I nodded. “Okay.” I paused. “In my world, the government decides how you live your life—what you eat, how often you exercise, how much you weigh. And if you don’t follow their rules they take you away from your family and lock you up in a prison-like place where you’re abused.”
I looked at the faces of everyone in the room and saw that they were riveted by my words—even Grandpa Foster was listening intently. I told them about my life in my world and what my parents had done. When I got to the part where I met Morgan, she took over, telling how she ran away from home and found herself in another world, right up to the part where our lives converged.
Then together we told how we escaped Camp Willowmoss and everything that happened after that, right up until we made it back to Morgan’s world.
“This world has problems of its own,” I said. “But I like it much better than the one I came from. When Morgan told me she was from a parallel world I thought she was crazy, so I think I know how you feel. In fact I never would have believed her if I hadn’t followed her through that tunnel and come out in your world and seen the truth for myself.”
I frowned, wondering if our story had any impact. “I don’t blame you if you don’t believe us, but it is the truth.”
Everyone was quiet as they digested what we’d said, then my father’s brother, Ken, spoke up. “I understand why Dad is having trouble believing you.” He laughed. “To tell you the truth, I had my doubts. But after hearing your story—and for heaven’s sake, you look just like our Billy—it’s kind of hard to deny what you’re saying.”
“Are you saying you believe their crazy story too, son?” Grandpa Foster asked as he glanced at his watch.
“I’m saying my doubts have lessened.”
“Thank you, Ken,” my father said.
Ken smiled at his brother.
“Why don’t you and your friend go out front for a while,” Grandpa Foster said to me. “Give us a chance to discuss this among ourselves.”
I was more than happy to have a break from being stared at and judged. “Good idea.” I practically leapt from the couch, then I pulled Morgan to her feet and we grabbed our coats, then walked out the front door.
Chapter 70
Billy
“I wouldn’t mind overhearing that conversation right now,” I said to Morgan after we shut the front door.
She laughed. “It would be interesting, that’s for sure.”
A chilly breeze swept over us, and I zipped up my jacket. “Let’s take a walk. It will warm us up.”
Morgan took my hand and we walked down the driveway, then turned right and headed down the sidewalk. “Your grandfather is kind of grumpy, isn’t he?”
I laughed. “I’m not claiming him as my family just yet.”
“Unfortunately, you can’t really pick and choose who’s in your family.”
“I know. I was just kidding.” When we reached the end of the street, we kept walking. It felt good to get away from all the controversy that my origins had caused, and when we’d circled the block and begun heading back toward my new home, for a moment I was tempted to walk past my street and not go back there.
“We don’t have to go back just yet,” Morgan said, evidently sensing my reticence.
“Then let’s go a little farther.” In reality, I had no intention of not going back, but I wanted to delay it a little longer. Besides, I doubted they were done arguing over the veracity of my story. Not with the obvious disbelief Grandpa Foster had.
We walked for another thirty minutes before we finally turned back, but once we were half a block from home, I noticed some commotion and several vehicles at my house.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t know. I hope the old man didn’t have a heart attack or something.”
“I don’t see an ambulance.”
I squinted at the vehicles and the people, trying to identify who they were.
“Are those news vans?” Morgan asked at the same time that I recognized the logo for a major news channel.
“Yeah, I think so.” I stopped walking as a sick feeling began growing in my gut. The urge to escape nearly overwhelmed me, but deep inside I knew this was something I had to face. If not today, then sometime soon. Suddenly weary, I just wanted to get it over and done with.
“Why are they here?” Morgan asked as she looked at me, then her eyes widened as the truth of the situation obviously came to mind. “Someone must have told them about you.”
I heard Grandpa Foster’s skepticism in my head, and then I remembered him looking at his watch before suggesting that Morgan and I go outside “for a while”. It had to be his doing. “I’ll give you one guess who’s behind it.”
She stared at me, clearly unbelieving a family member could do something like that.
“Morgan, he thinks I’m a liar, and probably a thief. What better way to expose me for what I am then to shine the spotlight of the media on me?”
She squeezed my hand. “It’s not just you. It’s both of us. Together.”
Knowing she was in this with me lifted some of the burden from my shoulders, but it didn’t change anything else about our situation. “Thanks.”
“What do you want to do? Do you want to catch a bus to my house?”
I smiled, then shook my head. “No. I want to show them that even with the bright light of the news burning in my face, my story will never change.”
“Okay.”
“What about you? You’re not the one who’s from another world, Morgan. You don’t have to say anything.”
She hesitated, and I knew she wasn’t eager to tell her story to the world.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, it’s one thing to tell a handful of people about what happened, but to tell people on TV?” Worry clouded her eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t do it either.”
“I have to. I look just like a dead kid, and the dead kid’s parents are taking me in. I have to explain that.” Even though it was obvious to me what I had to do, that didn’t mean Morgan had to have her world turned upside down. Just having her here was all I needed. I decided to make it easy for her. “I don’t want you to say anything about your part in this, okay? You just stand off to the side and listen.”
The worry in her eyes softened. “Are you sure? You don’t want me to say anything at all?”
I stroked her cheek and smiled. “I’m sure.”
The tension she’d been holding in her shoulders seeped away, and she smiled. “Okay. But I’ll be right there if you . . . if you change your mind.”
“I know.” But I had no intention of asking her to speak. I kissed her on the mouth, then took her hand again and walked towards the small crowd that had gathered on my parents’ lawn.
Chapter 71
Morgan
I admired Billy’s courage and his attitude of sacrifice—for that’s what it was. He was willing to sacrifice for me so that I wouldn’t have to become an object of ridicule as he surely would. I felt like a coward for agreeing to his demand that I not speak, but I’d had more than my share of time on television, and I didn’t want to be the center of attention ever again. Especially if it had anything to do with parallel worlds, or government control, or leading a cause.
I just wanted to live my life and be left alone. Was that too much for a sixteen-year-old girl to ask? I didn’t think so.
“There he is now,” Grandpa Foster said, confirming Billy’s suspicion that he was behind the circus on his parents’ lawn. “The con man of the century.”
“You’re right,” I heard someone say. “He looks just like your grandson. It’s eerie.”
“You say your name is Billy Foster,” a reporter called out as we approached. “How is that possible? Who are you really? Where are you from?”
Bill
y released my hand and I stopped where I was and watched as he walked toward the reporter.
“My name is Billy Foster.”
A camera pointed at him as he strode toward the crowd, but he ignored it and focused on the reporter.
“Billy,” his father said. “You don’t have to talk to them. Come inside.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I have nothing to hide. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
His parents walked over to Billy and stood on either side of him, then put their arms around him. “Our son,” his father said, “is a good person. His story is unusual, but we support him one hundred percent.”
Euphoria glowed on Billy’s face, and I smiled because I knew he’d found the family that he’d always craved.
“What is his story?” another reporter asked.
His father looked at him. “It’s up to you, Billy. You can tell them your story or not.”
“I’ll tell you,” he said, then he waited while the handful of reporters gathered around him with their cameras and their microphones. “Most of you won’t believe me, but that’s okay. It won’t change the truth of it.” He paused. “Some people believe in parallel worlds, and some don’t, but I’m proof that they exist.”
He told them the same story he’d told his aunts, uncles, and grandparents earlier, leaving me out of the story completely. It felt incomplete without my part in it, and I think the reporters sensed that too, because when he finished, the reporters began shouting questions that my story would have neatly filled in.
“How did you know about our world?”
“How did you know how to get here?”
“How did you know what to do once you arrived in our world?”
“What made you think our world was any different from yours?”
“Why did you come here?”
All of the questions assumed that his story was true, and I wondered if they actually believed him, or if they were just trying to trip him up.
When Billy had shared his story he’d told the truth, so the questions they battered him with seemed to stump him. I could tell he felt uncomfortable, and I worried how he would come off if he looked like he was going to make something up just to answer their questions.
I should speak up. I have to speak up. But when I took a few tentative steps in Billy’s direction, he saw me and subtly shook his head. I stopped, undecided about what to do.
“Billy, why are you pretending to be from another world?” one report shouted. “What’s in it for you?”
“Is this a joke?” another one asked, as the tide seemed to turn away from believing him.
“Prove what you’re saying. Take us to your world. Then we’ll believe you.”
Even from where I stood I could see panic growing in Billy’s eyes, and I knew I was the only one who could possibly help him. Even if I failed miserably in convincing anyone of the truth, I still had to try. I had to stand up for Billy and what I knew was true.
“He’s telling the truth,” I shouted, making my voice heard above the clamor.
Everyone turned to me, and I froze, suddenly regretting speaking up.
“Who are you?” one of the reports asked.
“I . . . I’m Morgan Campbell.” I cleared my voice. “I’m the one who told Billy about our world, and I’m the one who showed him how to get here.”
As one, the reporters moved to me. My gaze went to Billy’s face and I saw him smile, and I knew it was okay that I was speaking up. I smiled back, understanding that he’d only been trying to protect me, as he’d always done. But I had to do what I knew was right, regardless of the consequences.
“You look familiar,” one of the reports said. “Where might I know you from?”
I could think of three places—the PSA, the video students had taken of me arguing with Holly, and the new We Can Choose spot. Not wanting to mention any of them, I shrugged.
“It’ll come to me,” she said with a grin.
“How did you meet Billy? How did you tell him about our world?” another report asked.
“I found his world completely by accident,” I began, then launched into my story, ending with the night Billy showed up at my house. Like Billy, I didn’t name names as I didn’t want to hurt anyone in this world with the actions of their other world selves. Also like Billy, I never mentioned the hut or the tunnel. Only bad things would come of anyone knowing the way we crossed from one world to another.
When I finished talking, the reporters were quiet for a moment as they processed my story, then they all began shouting questions at once.
“How did you know you’d be able to get back to our world?”
“How did you cross from one world to another?”
“What was it like to be tortured?”
“Tell me more about the F.A.T. centers you stayed in.”
Then a reporter asked a question that caught my attention.
“Do you think our world is in danger of becoming like Billy’s?”
I zeroed in on the man who asked it. “Yes, I do think our world could become like Billy’s. Are you aware that the schools are requiring students to be weighed once a month? And that the government has passed new rules regarding what foods can be sold at school?”
“That’s where I’ve seen you,” the reporter who recognized me earlier shouted, drawing my attention to her. “You were in a video where you argued with a woman from the HLO who was speaking at your school. Right?”
So that’s the one she saw. Better than mentioning the PSA. “Yes. That was me.”
“Are you staging this just to get your point across?” she asked.
Is that what they thought? That was absurd. I pointed to Billy. “How could I stage having him look identical to the Billy Foster who died? I’m just a high school student.” At the look of skepticism on their faces, I continued. “I only spoke up at the assembly because of what I’d been through in Billy’s world. The idea of that happening here terrifies me. I can’t stand by and quietly watch it happen. I had to say something.”
Billy smiled as he listened to me, and a moment later he walked over to me and took my hand in his.
“Morgan and I haven’t sought the limelight,” he said. “We didn’t call you here. We didn’t even know you were coming.” He looked at Grandpa Foster, who frowned before looking away. “Morgan and I would prefer to live in complete anonymity. We just want to live our lives in peace.”
“But if what you’re saying is true—” the woman began, then she smiled. “And I’m not saying I believe you completely. Then you need to tell the world what you know.”
“We’ve told you,” I said. “Now it’s up to the world to decide if they want to let our world become like Billy’s.” I sighed, frustrated that they were concerned about the wrong thing. “Even if you don’t believe us, you need to focus on the direction our country is going. Do you want the government to have so much control over your bodies? I know I don’t. If you agree,” I said as I looked into the camera, “then do something about it. Tell your representatives in congress to change things. Let your opinions be known. Don’t be sheep and just go along with whatever your leaders decide. Have a say in it.”
“That’s all,” Billy’s father said as he stepped in front of us. “We’re done here.”
Chapter 72
Billy
My gaze went to my father, who stood like a barrier between Morgan and me and the news people, then I looked at the reporters. They stared at him a moment, then when they saw that he meant what he said, they slowly began packing their things.
He turned to Morgan and me. “Let’s go inside.”
I nodded, and we followed him toward the front door. As we approached Grandpa Foster, he wouldn’t meet my gaze, and I wondered what my father would say to him. Everyone trooped inside—including Grandpa Foster—and my mother shut and locked the front door.
“I can’t believe you did that,” my father said to Grandpa Foster, fury clear on his face. “How dare you
? What were you trying to prove?”
Grandpa Foster’s lower jaw stuck out in defiance as he glanced at me before meeting his son’s gaze. “I was trying to prove that he’s a charlatan.” He pointed at me as he spoke.
“You overstepped your bounds,” my father said. “Becky and I have made a decision. We’d like you to support us, but if you don’t, that doesn’t change our decision. Billy’s moved in with us and that’s where he’ll stay, come hell or high water.”
My father’s conviction filled me with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. I’d never had someone stand by me in such difficult circumstances—besides Morgan. But the man who called himself my father was taking my side over that of his own father. That alone convinced me that he meant what he said, and a feeling of security like I’d never known swept over me and settled in my heart.
“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice thick with unshed tears. My mother came up beside me and slipped one of her arms around my waist, and I put my arm across her shoulders.
“I can see I’m not welcome here,” Grandpa Foster said.
My father stared at Grandpa Foster for a moment. “Dad, you know you’re always welcome, but I won’t have you treating Billy that way. I just won’t.”
Grandpa Foster stared at my father, nodded once, then he turned and walked out the front door. When the door clicked shut, everyone looked at each other, at a loss for what to do next. A moment later Becky’s sister Nicole broke the silence.
“What do you think will happen when your story makes the news?” She looked right at me, but I didn’t have an answer for her. I didn’t want to think about what would happen next.
After (Parallel Series, Book 4) Page 30