Common Ground (The Common Ground Trilogy Book 1)

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Common Ground (The Common Ground Trilogy Book 1) Page 21

by Barry Chaison


  She just giggled and started skipping dreamily, jumping between the sidewalk and the parking lot as we approached the main gym. Her outlandish behavior had captured my full attention and as a result, I barely had time to jump out of the way from a jogger that sprinted by the two of us while we turned the corner towards the main steps of the gym. In a quick moment of frustration, my head turned around to find the culprit, who was long gone before any identification could be made. Annoyed, I turned back forward and ran to catch up with Steph, who had somehow managed to dance her way around the corner and out of sight.

  “Oops, got here a little quicker than I thought,” Steph chuckled minutes later, turning on the lights to an empty yoga studio.

  “A little quicker?” I responded flabbergasted. “Nobody’s even here yet!”

  “It’s okay Zoe, now we have some time to warm up before everyone else gets here.”

  “Fine,” I sighed. “Let’s go.”

  We both walked over to our customary places in the far back corner and set up our stations. More students came bustling in minute after minute until the place became packed. Over 30 girls were chatting and stretching lightly, waiting patiently for Mr. Himani to arrive. After what was at least 15 minutes, our instructor finally came strolling inside.

  “Good morning class,” Mr. Himani said merrily, entering the room with yoga mat and stereo in tow, with his bald head shining under the fluorescent lights above. “Today is going to be a challenging day for many of you. It will be a difficult test of your concentration and flexibility skills. We will be attempting a beginners’ version of the vasisthasana, or side plank stretch. You need to be on top of your game today to receive maximum benefit. Let’s begin with some simple breathing exercises to warm up.”

  The class continued on as usual, with Mr. Himani demonstrating poses for the class before allowing us to experiment ourselves. My concentration had been sorely tested that morning and all weekend with Annie’s absence, Liam’s surprising exposé and Professor Woodward’s meeting each fresh in my head. In return, I had expected a miserable, uninspired session that day. But as the class progressed, I found myself completing exercises and stretches in a way I’d never even gotten close to achieving before. Even Mr. Himani noticed during his regular inspection.

  “Zoe, what a surprise!” Mr. Himani gushed, stopping in front of my mat during the plank stretch he’d warned us about. “You have perfect balance! I must say that you’re vast improvement comes as a pleasant surprise. Have you been practicing?”

  “Not really,” I said coolly between deep breaths. My gaze was focused straight ahead while my entire body weight flooded my right arm. My balance and stability was sturdier than a rock, which was unbelievable.

  “Amazing. No practice and you’re doing it even better than Stephanie! Keep up whatever it is you are doing!”

  I looked over at Steph who just glowered at me from her own pose. The look on her face was a mix of awe and shock.

  “How are you doing that?” she panted while barely maintaining her stability.

  “I don’t know,” I huffed.

  “B.S… you’ve been practicing haven’t you? Did you go out and buy one of those home DVD’s? Please tell me you didn’t!”

  “I swear to god I didn’t,” I replied, still maintaining my perfect balance. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “So, glad you skipped your meeting now?” she asked while her right arm started shaking uncontrollably.

  Truth was that I still felt guilty for not taking advantage of going to Professor Woodward’s office when I had the chance. There were so many questions and it was going to take much longer than the half hour he booked for me. To appease Steph’s ego, I replied as politely as possible.

  “I guess so,” I said, refocusing my gaze back towards the front of the room.

  “Unbelievable,” Steph muttered in awe and she finally collapsed from the pose.

  Steph’s reminder of Professor Woodward sat in my thoughts for the next few minutes until Mr. Himani ordered everyone into the corpse pose. While he changed the CD to a mix of soothing beach sounds and shut off the lights, I began to think about all the questions that brewed in my head. My frustration grew and I thought again about not taking advantage of Professor Woodward’s earlier offer. I’d need all the time I could get just to ask him about what Liam had said, let alone everything else about his crazy theory.

  Following Mr. Himani’s instructions, I lied flat on my back and breathed deeply, ignoring the growing butterflies that churned in my stomach. Getting all of my questions finally answered made me feel a little nervous. It had been weeks since Professor Woodward’s revelations flipped my world upside down and it was almost time to get to the bottom of the whole thing. One final deep breath exited my body before my eyes shut and I began to drift.

  Cool air slammed into my body and my hair was thrown back by violent thrusts of wind. I was falling quickly into an endless white void and any traces of the yoga studio were long gone. With each passing second, blurry, unidentifiable images started to zoom by at the speed of light and random voices were yelling or calling out inaudible words. All of my senses were in a state of shock, barely able to comprehend what was happening. Without warning, everything went pitch black. My eyes suddenly flashed open and I found myself back in a familiar place.

  The yoga studio was completely empty and dark. There was no sign of anyone or anything; even my cell phone and I.D. card were gone. The only piece of familiarity was the yoga mat still lying underneath me. Slowly I sat up, rubbing my head. Being tired was one thing, but sleeping through an entire day was mind-boggling. As reality quickly sank in, I jumped up feeling panicked. My entire day had flown by and I’d missed everything, including my meeting time with Professor Woodward. I rolled up my yoga mat in an instant and bolted out of the studio, wondering how I could possibly sleep through an entire day without anyone waking me up.

  The sun was still rising fairly low in the east. There were a few random students and adults walking into and out of the gym, but nobody looked familiar. A light haze covered the adjacent soccer field, a telling sign that it was still early in the morning. I stood in front of the gym in confused frustration.

  After a minute, the answer seemed to be too obvious. The flashing white light and unexplainable change in time were all just parts of another one of my bizarre dreams. But, for some reason, this dream felt different than the others. There was no familiar face to follow around and no vision of my childhood there to keep me occupied. Annie was nowhere to be found, and my parents never had been to Las Vegas. The only other option was Professor Woodward. Maybe he was the familiar face I was supposed to follow around to find another pointless clue to some reminder of my past. Without any other option, I broke into an all out sprint directly to his office, hoping I’d wake up before anything bad happened.

  My long stride carried me away from the gym and down the steps very quickly. My immense desire to find Professor Woodward meant no regard for myself or anyone else, as two random students almost got leveled when I turned the corner of the gym and broke into an all out sprint. Campus flew by in a blur while I kept waiting to reappear back in yoga class, sweating profusely and waiting to answer all of Steph’s questions. But nothing happened and Professor Woodward’s building came into clear view.

  Barely panting, I threw open the door and flew up the stairs towards his office. Every classroom was full of students taking notes and a few random stragglers were roaming the halls when I zoomed by. Nobody gave me a second look while I sprinted up the stairs, which made me feel better that it really was a dream. It wasn’t until Professor Woodward’s office appeared and I raced into the open door that my initial suspicions were refuted.

  “Zoe?” Annabelle asked suddenly, looking surprised to see me.

  “Wait,” I panted slightly. “You can see me?”

  Her eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment. My words must have sounded worse than gibberish to her.

  �
��Are you feeling alright dear?” she asked concernedly. “You look a little flushed.”

  I was completely lost. How could Annabelle see me if it was just a dream? Nobody had ever acknowledged my presence in a dream before, not even my parents. Any assumptions or ideas of what was going on evaporated instantly and I didn’t know what else to do.

  “I’m sorry to intrude, but is Professor Woodward here?”

  “Just a sec hon,” she replied slowly, turning into Professor Woodward’s main office. While she was in there, I glanced around at Annabelle’s desk and noticed something very peculiar. She had a fresh, steaming mug of coffee sitting by her keyboard and her email was open on the computer. I approached her desk and glared at the monitor to see the time, but before I could find it, she hustled back out of the office with a completely different expression on her face.

  She appeared perfectly calm and content. Any confusion or worry that had taken over her face had been replaced with reassurance. It was then that I noticed the second unusual sight since my arrival. Annabelle was taking off her coat, appearing to have just gotten into the office.

  “Professor Woodward is waiting for you,” she said with her kind, motherly smile.

  I took a big gulp and hesitantly walked into his office. Maybe it was still a dream, maybe it was real. There were no signs that told me one way or another and it made me feel helpless.

  “Ah Zoe, I wasn’t expecting to see you this soon,” Professor Woodward exclaimed with his back turned to me. He was taking off his jacket and placing it on the fancy oak coat rack that stood next to his desk.

  “I know Prof-.“ I stopped while comprehension slowly dawned on me. “What do you mean weren’t expecting me this soon?”

  He turned back around and flashed his warm, charming smile. “I meant nothing by it; it’s just that I only sent that email a few moments ago. Usually it takes students at least a few minutes to get over to my office.”

  Remembering his email from earlier in the morning, reality sank in immediately. My feet were frozen on the spot and I could barely find the words. Professor Woodward sat down easily in his chair, put his hands together and waited patiently.

  “Wait… what time is it?” I gasped.

  “Actually,” he chuckled. He took off his glasses and placed them on the desk. “It’s only 9:00. I wasn’t expecting you until after yoga. You’re an hour early.”

  Chapter 11: Common Ground

  “Zoe?” Professor Woodward called distantly.

  My eyes flickered open and Professor Woodward was leaning over me looking concerned. The rugged carpet was hurting my back while the checkerboard ceiling filled my vision. A strong coffee aroma invaded my nostrils as Professor Woodward carefully helped me up.

  “What’s going on?” I asked dazedly.

  “You fainted,” he replied, still supporting my back with his hand. His eyes studied mine nervously, looking for any possible injury. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Wha…what happened?”

  “Perhaps you should take a seat first, clear your head,” he said hesitantly, helping me over to the soft but hefty leather chairs that sat in front of his desk.

  While he took a seat opposite me, I rubbed my head, desperately trying to ignite my memory. It took a few moments before bits and pieces started coming back to me. I exhaled a few shallow breaths in an attempt to quickly compose myself.

  “Now, what exactly do you recall leading up to the moment you arrived here?” he asked keenly, apparently satisfied that I wouldn’t pass out again.

  I closed my eyes again and the memories from earlier in the morning quickly rushed back into my consciousness. Every little bizarre detail and incident came to the forefront of my mind.

  “Um, I remember waking up in the yoga studio, but something weird had happened,” I said.

  “And what was that?”

  “Well, one minute I was lying down on my mat at the end of class and the next minute, I was in the same room, but everyone and everything was gone. All of the other students, the instructor, even my stuff that was right next to me had disappeared. The only thing that was still there with me was my yoga mat,” I said distracted, glancing down at the purple mat.

  “Please, continue,” he added attentively, not taking his eyes off me.

  “I then decided to go outside and figure out what had happened. At first, I thought maybe I had fallen asleep during our relaxation time, which a lot of other students do. But that didn’t make sense because my good friend in class would have awakened me before she left. So, I finally determined that it was just a dream because the dreams I have usually start out exactly like this one did.”

  He cocked his head, looking surprised. “Which way is that?”

  “It’s nothing really,” I tentatively said. “All of my dreams start off with me at some random time in my past. Normally, either my parents or my best friend are around and I follow them. They never see me, but I see and hear everything. I thought that this was the same thing, except for one big difference.”

  His eyes raised in suspense, waiting for a response.

  “Nobody I knew was around. I looked but couldn’t find a soul. I finally thought that because it was all happening on campus that maybe you were the one I needed to find and follow. That’s what brought me here. The whole thing continued to feel like a dream until Annabelle saw and spoke to me. That’s when I knew that it was something different. Then the last thing I remember was you making some kind of assertion that I’d arrived early for our meeting,” I finished.

  Professor Woodward nodded a few times and then inhaled deeply. He didn’t look perplexed at all. If anything, he came across very self assured. My entire story didn’t appear to faze him in the slightest.

  “It wasn’t an assertion,” he finally said, staring at me. “You arrived precisely at 9:00.”

  “How is that possible? I was in yoga class then.”

  “Believe me, not only is it possible, it’s irrefutable.”

  “But how can that be? I specifically remember starting yoga at 9:00 this morning. We always finish up an hour later, which would mean that the earliest I could have gotten here was 10:00 and even that would be pushing it. There just wouldn’t be enough time.”

  “Time,” he whispered softly to himself.

  “Professor?” I asked.

  He sat there silently for a minute before speaking up again. “Time is a complex component of life Zoe, something you just unfortunately discovered in a way that was not planned. Common perception is that time is a fixed dimension of nature. It cannot be altered or distorted and therefore, everything that happens is constant. However, the truth is, time is a variable medium, something that can be manipulated. This may come as a shock Zoe, but you just traveled back in time.”

  Like with everything else he told me, my mind had trouble accepting what he said. Changing time was physically impossible. The only response I could give was the natural one.

  “I’m sorry, but did you just say that I traveled back in time?” I chortled, unable to contain myself.

  “Indeed,” he nodded stoically. “But if everything you’ve seen so far hasn’t convinced you, perhaps undeniable proof would be sufficient?”

  His skinny frame stood up instantly and he walked over to the door and opened it for me.

  “Let’s take a walk,” he smiled.

  We exited the Religious Studies building and started walking back across campus. The day had grown a little brighter since I arrived in his office, but it was still a relatively young morning. While we walked, he randomly asked question after question about my midterm, wondering if I thought it was a good style of assessment. His calm and friendly demeanor wasn’t doing anything to break my feelings of anxiety and His non-stop questioning and small talk continued on for countless minutes before I even realized where he was taking me.

  The gym quickly came back into view. Professor Woodward continued to look relaxed and at ease while we approached the steps of t
he gym, two sentiments from which I was quickly diverging. I didn’t know what he planned on showing me there, but an unsettling feeling was slowly overtaking me.

  After another minute or two, we walked up the stairs to the gym and headed inside. We turned the corner and the door to my yoga studio stood closed just feet away from where we stood. I looked over at Professor Woodward nervously. He took a sharp breath and stared back. Without a word, his head nodded towards the closed door. I swallowed hard while my hands began to tremble. Professor Woodward took a slight step back, leaving me alone in the middle of the hallway standing between him and the door.

  Anticipation built up inside of me as my suddenly weary legs began inching forward. As each new step brought me closer to the room, familiar looking girls started to appear through the long, thin piece of glass that was built into the door. The front half of the class was entirely visible when I came to an abrupt stop. I looked back at Professor Woodward who stood tall with his paper thin arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t smiling anymore. His pointy jaw was locked into place and he looked rather omniscient.

  Inhaling deeply, I turned back around and took another few steps towards the door until the entire class came into full view. I stopped right before my body would have been visible through the glass. Slowly, my head leaned to the side and I stared into the room. All of the girls from my yoga class were looking at the front of the room at an invisible Mr. Himani. My eyes quickly traveled over the class before they finally fell upon the most shocking image I’d ever seen in my life.

  There I was, standing right next to Steph, wearing the same white running shorts and sea blue tank top that currently clothed me. I stumbled away from the door in an instant, barely able to contain my breath. My body bent over while I inhaled and exhaled sharply. I’d just seen myself, in real time, doing the exact same stretches I’d done no more than an hour ago.

  Almost instantly, I stumbled away, staring at the door in shock. I spent weeks refusing to believe everything Professor Woodward had said, and in the matter of a few seconds, what once seemed impossible had become real. While the certainty of what had just happened quickly overtook me, I grabbed my rapidly tightening chest, bent down and started to hyperventilate.

 

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