Memories from a Different Future: Jump When Ready, Book 2

by David Pandolfe

  They all stared at her, stunned.

  Nikki burst out laughing. She reached out to fist-bump Naomi, whose soft hand connected with hers. “Nice,” Nikki said.

  “Essentially, we’re brilliantly inept,” Simon said.

  “You guys are kind of on a roll,” Nikki said.

  Henry reached over and high-fived Simon.

  Martha shrugged and smiled. “Yes, I think that pretty much sums it up. So, are you guys maybe done?”

  “Probably not,” Henry said.

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Martha said.

  That smile spread across Henry’s face again, his eyes gleaming as he looked back at Martha.

  Nikki couldn’t fight off her own smile anymore. Yes, they were ridiculous, she knew. But in this one moment, at least, she couldn’t imagine having it any other way.

  21

  Memories From A Different Future

  Nikki awoke from a dream about her family, blinking against morning light streaming through her window. Her eyes went to her dance trophies on their shelves, her framed certificates of achievements and honors, the photos of people she hadn’t seen in a long time. All from her past and existing for her alone, she knew. Or maybe they didn’t exist at all since only she could see them. Define existence, define time. For that matter, define people. What were they really, other than memories eventually?

  Even though it had been a while since she’d dreamt of her family, Nikki didn’t feel sad. In the dream, they’d been young again—her parents in their early thirties and her sister five or six years old. They’d all been laughing about something, their eyes alight with joy. No, Nikki hadn’t seen herself there with them but it was like they saw her when they looked right at her and invited her to join them with their smiles. Nikki had felt a smile spread across her face too, her mouth about to open in laughter before she woke up. Even now, the smile remained as she lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, where the light coming in from outside had taken on a rosy hue.

  She sat up in bed, somehow knowing change wouldn’t be too far off now. The world, some world, a future world, kept calling out to her. The thought made no sense, given that her dream had been about the past. But had it? Nikki had been the older sister. There had never been a time when her parents and sister had been young without her being there with them.

  Nikki jumped at the knock on her door. She waited a few seconds before saying, “I’m asleep. Go away.”

  “Okay, I’ll go away for a few hours,” Henry said. Maybe two seconds passed before he said, “Hi, I’m back.”

  Nice, Nikki thought, for one moment almost believing him. She smiled and got out of bed to cross the room.

  Henry knocked again. “Okay, it’s been like three days now. I’m still here.”

  Nikki laughed silently and got her robe from the closet. Ridiculous, she knew. After all, if she wanted to she could close her eyes, make a wish, and she’d be wearing her robe. Or whatever she wanted, for that matter. Up to her, but it still made sense to take her robe down from the hook on her closet door and wrap it around herself.

  “So, I’ve been thinking…” Henry said, when she opened her door.

  “Cool, something new,” Nikki said.

  Henry shot her a look but otherwise ignored the comment. “That maybe we should check a few things out.”

  “Sounds good.” Nikki knew, of course. How, she wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe because she knew Henry. Or maybe because she’d been curious too. “Hang on, I’ll get changed.”

  Henry shrugged. “Take your time.”

  Nikki couldn’t resist. She closed her door and opened it again. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Nice Kimono,” Henry said.

  Nikki did a half-twirl, back and forth. “Thanks. I just found it here. No idea where it came from.”

  “Imagine that,” Henry said. “And the jeans?”

  “I’ve had those for decades,” Nikki said. “At least.”

  Nikki followed Henry down the hall, past doors that remained closed even though she half-expected one of the others to pop out to see what they were up to. But it was early and they all—as far as Nikki knew—kept to something like the same schedule. A way of keeping things normal, although she also knew it meant more than that. It was also a way of keeping them together. Hey, whatever worked. Not much different from the other realm where people set alarms and agreed upon times to eat breakfast, lunch or dinner. Just life, basically.

  Once they were outside, Nikki turned to Henry. “Do you think we should ask the others if they want to come along?”

  Henry took a moment to consider but Nikki could tell he was just pretending. “How about we just tell them what we find out?”

  His eyes confirmed what Nikki suspected—for some reason, he wanted it to be just the two of them. “Works for me,” she said. “Who first?”

  Henry hesitated for a moment. “Let’s check on Emilio first.”

  “Are you sure?” Nikki had been thinking about him too, a number of times. No, Emilio hadn’t ended up being the kid holding the gun but she hadn’t forgotten that trapped look in his eyes that haunted her for days.

  “Pretty sure,” Henry said. “I think it will bother us if we never find out.”

  All it took was for Nikki to nod in agreement and they stood on a busy sidewalk. She looked around. “Where are we?”

  Henry smirked. “My guess is Seattle. Emilio lives here.”

  Nikki thought about reminding him that smirking was her job. “Thanks for the clue, Sherlock. I mean, why are we standing on this sidewalk?”

  Henry raised an eyebrow. “Because maybe Emilio is nearby?”

  Nikki rolled her eyes but smiled. “I get that part too. But—oh, wait.” She pointed at an apartment building across the street. “He just looked out that window.”

  Henry nodded. “Had a feeling he might be nearby.”

  “You’re on fire today,” Nikki said.

  “Nobody says that anymore,” Henry said.

  “Do they still say this?” Nikki punched him in the shoulder.

  Henry winced and rubbed his arm. “Pretty sure they do.” He gestured toward the apartment building. “Come on. Let’s have a look.”

  A moment later, they stood in Emilio’s living room as he zipped up his jacket and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. “Gotta go, you guys!”

  A woman’s voice came from the kitchen. “Hang on, okay?”

  Then, the voice of a child. “Wait, Emilio.”

  “Guys, I need to get moving.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Emilio’s mother came into the room, drying her hands on a dish towel. “We get it. You have places to go and people to see.”

  “We’re talking about school,” Emilio said.

  “So proud of you,” his mother said. “Come on, give me a hug.”

  Emilio rolled his eyes but hugged his mother. He held her tight for a moment, breathing deep, before letting go.

  “Don’t forget you’re working tonight. I’ll be home right at five so you can get there. Remember, you need to be on time. Mr. Posten says it’s important that you, you know, maintain a—”

  “I know,” Emilio said. “A consistent schedule. Don’t worry, Ma.”

  “Don’t go telling me not to worry. It’s my job to worry. Look how long it took you to get away from those boys you kept hanging around with. I was worried sick half the time.”

  “It’s all good now,” Emilio said. “I’m done with them.” He turned his attention to his little brother, holding out his fist for a bump. “Javier, my man, remember what I told you, right?”

  Javier connected his little fist with Emilio’s. “I make my own future, right?”

  Emilio smiled, eyes shining. “Exactly, bro. Minute by minute.”

  “Hour by hour,” Javier said.

  “Day by day,” Emilio said. “We’ll be right next to you. Isn’t that right, Ma?”

  This time, Emilio’s mother used the dishtowel to wipe the corner of her eye. St
ill, she smiled. “Every step of the way,” she said.

  ~~~

  It only occurred to Nikki now how much it made perfect sense that Henry’s sister had become a history professor. After all, if anyone knew how the past remains alive forever, it was Bethany.

  Nikki and Henry watched as students filed into the lecture hall and took their seats. Bethany stood at a lectern, going over her notes, roster and syllabus, glancing up a few times to make eye contact and smile. Finally, she checked the time again and stood. She brightened her expression and gazed out at her new students.

  “Okay, let’s get this cart bumping along,” she said, her introduction met with few chuckles and smiles. “Welcome to Modern European Intellectual History. Before we dive in, let’s take a moment to define the term. What exactly is intellectual history? Any takers?”

  A young woman in the second row raised her hand. “The origins of ideas and concepts still considered relevant?”

  Bethany nodded and smiled. “Well put. So, what we’ll be talking about in the weeks ahead is how ideas from the past come to shape our future. How, in fact, they establish the very parameters through which we—”

  At the back of the hall, the door creaked open. The silhouette of a young man appeared, supporting himself on crutches. As he came into the light, Nikki saw that Ian had just entered the lecture hall. He took a few tentative steps, found his balance again and kept going. “Sorry I’m late,” he said.

  Bethany met his eyes. “Absolutely not a problem,” she said. “Just glad you could make it.”

  Bethany waited until Ian found a seat and settled in. She glanced at her notes, then her eyes went to where Henry and Nikki stood at the back of the room. Just briefly, she stared directly at them before continuing.

  “If we’ve learned anything over time, it’s this,” she said, directing her gaze back to her students. “Those who came before us remain watching. You can interpret that figuratively, if you’d like. Either way, we owe them. It’s on us to never forget them or what we’ve learned from them. Believe me, they haven’t forgotten you.”

  ~~~

  When they got back to Halfway House, the sun had risen into the sky and a mild breeze rustled the leaves of trees along the street. From inside came the sound of laughter and music along with the aroma of something baking in the oven. Nikki smiled when she heard Naomi call out, “About twenty more minutes. You’ll just have to be patient, Simon!”

  “Sounds like we timed it about right,” Henry said. “Did you ever expect our days to start revolving around Naomi’s baking schedule?”

  “I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming.” Nikki took a step toward the door, then stopped and turned to Henry. “Doing okay?”

  Henry smiled. “Yeah, I’m okay. Not sure I’ll ever get used to it but I think everyone is going to be fine.”

  Nikki hesitated, but this seemed as good a time as any to bring it up. “So, I’ve kind of been thinking about something lately,” she said.

  Henry nodded and Nikki suspected he knew. Was it possible he’d been thinking the same thing too?

  “About maybe…” Nikki said. “I mean, not like today or anything. But I’ve been wondering if I might be nearly ready to—”

  The front door opened and Martha looked out at the two of them. Her creased brow showed she had something on her mind. “Glad you two are back.”

  “Everything okay?” Nikki said.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Martha paused before adding, “However, Lysrus wants to speak with both of you. There’s something the Mentors would like you to do.”

  Nikki glanced at Henry and their eyes met. In Henry’s gaze, Nikki saw her thoughts mirrored. He too had been hoping to talk about when they might at least consider jumping in again. Now, they’d have to talk about it some other time. Nikki hoped that time would come soon. But Martha’s waiting presence made one thing seem clear. Nikki and Henry were about to take a different kind of step. Just the two of them, together.

  Connect with David Pandolfe Online

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  Jump When Ready, Book 3 Coming Soon!

  The third book in the Jump When Ready series will be out soon and I almost always release my books for $0.99 for a limited time. It might even be available for free so be sure to sign up for my newsletter to make sure you don’t miss out on this or other offers! David Pandolfe Books Newsletter

  Author blog : http://davidpandolfe.com

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks again to my wife and kids for putting up with me while I continue to obsess about writing and publishing. There have been a few times I’ve opted out of family time to get this book ready to go and I appreciate their support and encouragement. Special thanks to Samantha Pandolfe for creating wonderful covers for these novels (in this case, creating three separate designs to choose from). Thanks to Jody Escaravage, Jennifer Mantura, Ellen McCarty, JoAnne Berft, Tina Rhoades, Maria Cannady, Sean McDonnell and Amanda Humphrey for taking the time to beta-read this book (your honest opinions are very much appreciated!). Take a breather guys because it won’t be long before I’ll be asking you to read Jump When Ready, Book 3. Thanks also to everyone who read and reviewed Streetlights Like Fireworks and Jump When Ready on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Goodreads. This indie publishing adventure continues to be exciting for me and most of that is due to your kind words and support.

  Turn the “page” to read sample chapters of Streetlights Like Fireworks. Or, click to buy a copy of Streetlights Like Fireworks.

  Streetlights Like Fireworks

  1

  Ancient Carvings on a Fender Telecaster

  “The whole thing was mind blowing,” Gary says. “The light show was spectacular and the tech guys were amazing. Seriously, we sounded like freaking gods.”

  Gary’s eyes shine every time he tells about the time his band opened for the Foo Fighters. A big grin parts his goatee this time too. He watches our faces for reactions like we’ve never heard the story before but we understand. This was the peak of his glory days and you have to respect that.

  He takes a moment to look each of us in the eye. “There was a sea of women out there and they were all going crazy. Unbelievable.”

  “Awesome,” Justin says.

  “Wish we could have been there,” Doug says.

  I’m doing my best to pay attention but the back of my neck tingles. It’s been doing that off and on all day. I try to ignore the feeling because I know what it means. Something wants my attention. Something wants me to know what I shouldn’t be able to know. Still, I figured I could buy myself some time by hanging out at Gary’s store. I never know when I’ll get a flash but it’s never happened before in Edmonds Music. This cluttered space full of guitars and amps, drum sets and keyboards. This place that smells like rosewood and brass polish. This place that feels more like home than home.

  “It really was an amazing show,” Gary says. “Damn, I wish we could have recorded it.”

  Gary’s band broke up years ago but they used to play mostly small clubs in Richmond. One winter, the Foo Fighters were playing at the National and a blizzard up north delayed the opening act. They couldn’t get to the show and the promoters needed someone. Suddenly, Gary’s band found themselves playing in front of thousands of people. Each time I hear the story I have to wonder how, of all the club bands playing at the time, Gary’s got picked. But he has photos hanging on the wall behind his cash register showing him standing next to Dave Grohl. In the photos, they stand next to each other smiling so something must have happened there.

  “That must have been incredible,” I say, just to add something to the conversation. It must show that I’ve been tuning out. B
ut I can’t help it. I feel uneasy. Edgy. Whatever it is that wants my attention keeps nagging at me.

  “Did you guys tour with them after that?” Justin says. “Did you get a record deal?”

  How Justin says it without irony is beyond me but I chalk it up to bass player diplomacy—that inherent skill for building a bridge between competing factions. Still, we’re all standing in Gary’s future. These days, Gary is married and has a baby. Obviously, his life isn’t all that glamorous considering it now boils down to peddling gear to teenage musicians and sometimes changing diapers.

  Gary studies Justin, thin to pushing frail, long brown hair and unblinking brown eyes to match. “Didn’t quite go that way,” he says, possibly thinking about the diaper changing thing too. “But their manager asked for a CD to take back to LA. He thought we were great.”

  “Nice,” Justin says.

  Sunlight pings against my eyes and I squint at the back wall where Gary displays the used guitars. The sun must be at just the right angle since it reflects off only one of them, an old Fender Telecaster I’ve never noticed before. The knobs, pickup plates and tuning machines gleam. Alongside it, the others look dusty and forgotten.

  “And, dude, you made out great,” Doug says. “Now you have this awesome store.”

  Doug is our drummer, squat with curly blonde hair, a solid and steady kind of guy. Obviously, he’s trying to make Gary feel like he didn’t miss the boat. A nice thing to do, definitely.

  I half-listen as Gary starts talking about forming an indie label, maybe recording our band and a few others. I keep glancing at that Telecaster. Even from a distance I see the nicks and scars suggesting it’s taken a long journey.

  “Do you mind if I check out that Fender?” I say, unintentionally cutting Gary off mid-sentence.

  He frowns, then tries to track my gaze across the store. “Which one?”

  A reasonable question since Gary stocks plenty of Fenders.