Parallel Roads

by Mel Teshco

  Harrison flipped open the walkthrough on the bar. He was pale underneath all his ink when he crouched beside Tara and reached out a hand to touch her face. ‘She really is alive,’ he whispered hoarsely. He looked up at Jessie. ‘Jesus Christ … I went to her funeral.’

  Jessie blew out a slow breath. ‘Then you buried the wrong body.’

  A lie but not a lie. He didn’t really care either way as long as he could save this Tara—his Tara—in the here and now.

  Harrison pushed to his feet, his expression stark with guilt and relief, and then a whole horde of other emotions. ‘Vera was hysterical when she lost her daughter. After the fire … afterwards, she couldn’t even stay in town.’

  Jessie watched the play of emotions over the other man’s face, suddenly understanding why Harrison had lost body fat and sleep. Guilt was eating at him from the inside out.

  As silence thickened between them, Lolita stepped forward and said, ‘I’d really love a beer.’

  Harrison turned to her as if seeing her for the very first time. And even beneath his obvious distress, his stare turned approving. He nodded. ‘Of course.’

  As the barman left them, Lolita dropped the backpack to the floor and Jessie reached inside it to pull out Tara’s purse and give his sister some money. ‘Do me a favour?’ he asked hoarsely.

  She nodded slowly. ‘What sort of favour?’

  He jerked his head towards the landline phone on the wall near the bar. It was in order in this dimension. ‘Get some change for the phone and ring my PA.’ His sister knew the number back-to-front, he realised starkly. She’d been more easily able to get in contact with his personal assistant than she’d ever been with her own brother.

  ‘Yes?’ Lolita prompted.

  ‘Tell her I want her to get in contact with Vera Mayfair and offer her twenty-five percent better pay if she’ll work in the Brisbane restaurant … with an offer of executive chef if she’s interested.’

  His sister frowned. ‘Vera … that’s Tara’s mum, right?’

  He nodded. She’d obviously been listening to Harrison. ‘That’s right.’

  She blew some hair off her brow. ‘Wow. There’s no doubt now. You really have lost your mind.’

  Yeah, it looked as if her business-savvy brother was doing a huge favour to the kin of the woman he loved. Except … Vera’s passion would only shine through in the food. It was a win-win all the way round.

  He crouched beside Tara, pushing some hair off her forehead before he pressed a kiss on her brow. ‘We’re nearly home, sweetheart.’

  He ensured she was comfortable before he approached the hippies. A Bob Dylan track had been chosen next on the jukebox, but the hippies hardly seemed to be aware of the music. Their attention was all on him as he approached, their awed faces staring at him as though he was royalty and a rock god all rolled into one.

  Perhaps this once he could put his fame to good use.

  The lank-haired wife or girlfriend of the bearded hippie bared her teeth in a gap-toothed smile. But the man displayed at least a modicum of decency when he nodded towards Tara and asked, ‘Hey man, is she okay?’

  ‘She will be when I get her home.’ When the hippies exchanged an uneasy, awkward look, Jessie elaborated, ‘She needs specialised care.’

  Thank you, Lolli.

  He cleared his throat. ‘But our car broke down and we’ve got no transport.’

  ‘Jessie McCormick, right?’ trilled the woman, her wild-eyed appearance making him wonder if she’d attended one too many parties.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Oh, we knew it!’ She looked flustered, even a little coy. ‘I’m Iris and this is Flame.’

  He shook their respective hands, and then resisted swiping his palm along his pants. Going by their sour body odour and marijuana-stained breath, he was certain neither had had a shower or cleaned their teeth for some time.

  ‘So anyway,’ Iris continued, ‘we’ll be happy to take you wherever you need to go. Just pay for the fuel and we’ll travel wherever the wind leads us.’

  Had fate just smiled at him? Had these hippies been meant to be here? It almost seemed too easy. ‘That would be great. Thanks. We’d really appreciate it.’

  ‘No worries, dude,’ said Flame. ‘Even if you weren’t somebody famous we’d offer you a ride. Free spirits and all that. Besides, you remind us of someone we once knew.’

  Except they’d never recall who exactly that was. He knew the drill. And he’d bet Tara’s generosity had spilled over into this dimension and into the hippies’ subconscious in a positive way.

  Lolita appeared beside him, two beers in her hands. ‘Thought you might need one of these too,’ she said.

  He accepted with thanks, almost draining the beer in two big gulps. Just what he needed. He nodded towards the hippies and said above the music, ‘Lolita, this is Flame and Iris. They’ve offered to take us where we need to go.’

  Lolita’s eyes rounded in a you’ve got to be kidding me look. But before he could assert some positive into the idea, the song in the jukebox ended and the television on the wall behind the bar became all too easy to hear.

  Jessie looked up at hearing his name, his stare glued to the stick-thin television presenter. ‘A reward is offered for anyone with information on celebrity chef, Jessie McCormick. He is the prime suspect of a murder scene earlier today and police warn the public not to approach him if sighted. He is armed and dangerous.’

  The presenter’s voice faded as his mind screamed run. Instead, he carefully placed his near-empty beer glass on the top of the jukebox while Lolita drained her own beer as though she too was parched. His quick glance took in the hippies’ open-mouthed expressions. But it was the barman he knew would be the most cause for concern.

  Harrison’s ear was already pressed to the landline phone, his attention on Tara. Jessie strode forward and put his hand on the cradle, pressing on the switch-hook to disconnect, though he had a feeling it was too little too late.

  He gave the barman a hard look. ‘I’ll be happy to tell the police about your arson and murder,’ he grated.

  Harrison straightened, though the growing pallor under his ink left Jessie in no doubt whatsoever the man was as guilty in this dimension as another. So why hadn’t the barman known him? What had caused Harrison to burn down Tara’s residence and business if not for a fit of jealous rage?

  ‘Your word against mine,’ Harrison bit out. He looked meaningfully at Tara. ‘Besides, Tara is alive and well.’

  ‘Is she?’ Let the bastard dwell on that loaded question.

  The hippies were suddenly at his shoulder and Flame said in an awed voice, ‘You’re a wanted man? How fucking cool.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But you didn’t kill anyone, right?’

  Lolita sighed dramatically. ‘Does he look like a murderer to you? He’s been framed and he’s trying to save his woman before it’s too late.’

  Iris’s face scrunched with fierceness. ‘Innocent or guilty, the bloody authorities will have you cuffed and locked away in no time. We’d better get you out of here.’

  Holy shit. These people really were prepared to go the extra mile. And he was certain that would never have happened if they didn’t feel as though they owed him and Tara one. It took karma to a whole new level.

  As the hippies retreated out the door and Jessie carefully lifted Tara from the couch, Lolita picked up the backpack and spluttered, ‘What the fuck? Is everyone around here off their face crazy?’

  He turned to sister and noted Harrison was on the phone again. Was money all the bastard cared about? The barman had burned down his ex-girlfriend’s home and killed her in it. But now, with proof the woman he claimed to love was alive, he was more interested in financial gain.

  ‘I think perhaps they are,’ he muttered to Lolita. He strode towards the door. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Aside from the hotel’s exterior lighting, it was dark outside, a quarter moon and a vast sprinkling of stars that glinted from high abov
e, struggling to chase away the shadows. Cicadas hummed and a lone bird called out from far away.

  The hippies opened up the back of the van and Flame motioned for Jessie to hurry up. ‘Put her in here.’

  Jessie placed Tara carefully onto the mattress on the floor, thankful this once for the darkness. A least he couldn’t see the mess. Shame it didn’t stop him from thinking about what activities had occurred in the back of the Kombi and how often.

  Cleanliness was second nature to him as a chef, but he’d turn the other cheek as long as Tara got back to her own dimension, safe and sound.

  He opted to stay in the back with Tara while Lolita swung into the bench seat behind the driver, the backpack tossed carelessly onto the space beside her and her eyes no doubt goggling as she took a long look inside the dirty old Kombi.

  Iris took the passenger seat as Flame slammed shut the tailgate and jumped into the driver’s seat. The Kombi engine spluttered into life, loud underneath them, and Flame flicked on the headlights before he chugged out of the hotel car park in a waft of fumes.

  Jessie peered out the dusty back window just as Harrison pushed through the hotel door. The hotel’s external lights showed the barman’s crossed arms and Jessie thought he could also make out his tight, enraged face.

  He released an unsteady breath. Seeing Harrison stand there like that was all so déjà vu and might have been amusing under different circumstances. Except nothing about any of this situation was amusing.

  Iris turned in her seat and yelled to Jessie in the back. ‘Sorry, we’re going to have to stop for petrol before we go anywhere.’

  Already?

  He imagined police cars swooping in from all directions, lights flashing and guns blazing. He shook his head. He’d been watching too many action flicks. He peered out the windshield at the dull headlights that barely penetrated the darkness. ‘Sure. But the mechanic shop is the only place in town and it’s shut.’

  Flame turned left at the intersection. ‘No, he’s open late tonight.’

  Jessie automatically flicked a look at his dud watch as Flame pulled into the mechanic shop that was lit by a couple of exterior lights and the flickering streetlight. An old tractor and a rusty backhoe looked big and shadowy parked beside the shop. Clearly the farmers around these parts relied on the mechanic to fix more than just their cars.

  Flame manually wound down his window and Jessie watched from the shadows inside the Kombi when the old mechanic with his bowed legs and tartan cap walked to the bowser with a grizzled smile.

  ‘Nice night we’re having,’ he said by way of greeting, before undoing the petrol cap and pulling the nozzle free from the bowser.

  Flame nodded. ‘Sure is. Fill her up, thanks, man.’

  Jessie stayed in the back of the Kombi, watching Bruce and feeling all kinds of indecisive. Should he make his presence known? Was the other man meant to know he was there with his granddaughter, Tara? Blowing out a breath, he unlatched the back of the van.

  It would be ignorant, and maybe even cruel, not to reveal themselves.

  The mechanic glanced at Jessie when he climbed out from the back of the Kombi. His eyes lit up with recognition, before narrowing a little. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked in a flat voice, as though he’d asked the same question a dozen times before and hated hearing the answer.

  ‘Actually, yes. I believe you do.’ The other man gaped as Jessie continued, ‘You directed me to a shortcut with the express purpose of saving your granddaughter, Tara, in another dimension.’

  Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, as if getting his bearings. ‘Is she … is she okay?’

  ‘She’s alive.’ He swung his hand towards the back of the Kombi. ‘But I’m not sure how long we’ve got before I have to get her back to her own dimension.’

  Bruce returned the nozzle to the bowser and twisted the petrol cap back on, the actions of someone on autopilot. He paused for a moment, as though afraid of what he might find, before he shuffled to the back of the Kombi.

  In the shadows of the van, with her blonde hair askew and half-framing her pale face, Jessie swore she could have been Sleeping Beauty.

  ‘Heaven help me, that really is my Tara,’ Bruce said brokenly. He turned to Jessie. ‘Can you wake her and let her know I’m here?’

  Jessie could hardly speak past the numbness spreading from his chest to his throat. ‘She hasn’t been awake for hours. I don’t think she’ll come to now until I can get her back to her own dimension.’

  ‘Or at least out of this one,’ Bruce croaked. Then he dragged his eyes away from Tara and pulled off his cap. ‘Give this to her, she’ll know who it’s from. And tell her … tell her I love her. Tell her I’ve succeeded in doing what I vowed I would. And that the Jessie I knew would find a way to save her.’

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘The Jessie you knew?’ he echoed.

  Bruce nodded. ‘You don’t think fate doesn’t deliberately intertwine people, no matter which dimension we’re in?’

  ‘So you’ve been to other dimensions?’

  ‘I have. I was the one who put the ladder against the manhole in the house.’

  Questions filled his head, one after the other. ‘Have you met me in one of the other dimensions?’

  ‘Of course. But being that I was dead in every other dimension I visited, I couldn’t stay for very long.’

  ‘Then why did you try?’

  The older man’s dull eyes flashed. ‘To save my granddaughter, of course. She was murdered in my world and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it. But I knew I might be able to save her in another world … save her by finding her soulmate and sending him to her.’

  So the chair had been used as some kind of symbol for Tara to recognise, with Jessie’s writing underneath as the link between them?

  Lolita pushed open her door and sauntered over to where he and Bruce were standing. ‘What’s going on?’

  Bruce gaped at her, before turning back to Jessie. ‘You saved your sister too? My god, you’ve done just exactly what we hoped.’

  Jessie frowned. ‘Wait a minute. We?’

  Bruce opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, turning around and taking in the highway where the sound of a distant siren too quickly became loud. ‘You’d better move it.’

  Jessie nodded and found himself climbing into the back of the Kombi once more and taking hold of Tara’s hand.

  There was a glint of wetness in Bruce’s eyes when he stared at Tara, then swung back to Jessie. ‘Take good care of my granddaughter.’

  ‘With my life.’ Jessie clutched the knitted tartan cap to his chest as Bruce nodded and then slammed the tailgate shut. As the van lurched forwards, Jessie watched the police car swing off the highway and down the main street, no doubt to Harrison’s hotel.

  Bruce gave them a wave from near the bowser, then stalked over to the backhoe and climbed aboard. Jessie saw him reverse it onto the highway and park it there before heading towards the tractor. The Kombi followed a bend in the road and the mechanic shop disappeared from view.

  ‘The crafty old bastard,’ cackled Flame from the front seat. ‘He’s blocking the highway so the police can’t get through.’

  Guilt landed over Jessie like a too familiar blanket, but he was even more grateful for Bruce’s intervention. Though Tara’s grandfather would get into all kinds of trouble for protecting them, he’d also bought them probably five or ten minutes of time.

  They’d need it and more, going by the whine of the motor. The Kombi was probably lucky to top a hundred kilometres an hour.

  Flame tugged at his goateed beard, then turned to Iris and said, ‘Can you light me one up?’

  Iris nodded and opened the glove compartment, then withdrew a readymade joint. Jessie heard the click of a lighter, then the joint flared and a waft of sweet, musky smoke filled the car. She took a couple more tokes before passing it to the driver.

  Flame sucked in a lungful, held it for long seconds and then exhaled slowly, smoke
billowing.

  Jessie closed his eyes. God, he was going to get high and he wasn’t even smoking the shit. He reopened his eyes only to find Lolita accept the joint that was going around. She took a drag with an appreciative sigh and Jessie frowned.

  She looked more than comfortable smoking weed. What else didn’t he know about his sister?

  Perhaps if you’d been around long enough to talk to her, you’d know.

  Another car was heading towards them from the distance when the Kombi’s dull headlights revealed the turn off ahead. Jessie directed Flame to turn right and the Kombi rattled and banged its way over the track.

  Flame beckoned for the joint, then asked, ‘Are you sure this is the right way?’

  Lolita giggled. ‘Yeah bro, surely no one would be crazy enough to build a house out here?’

  ‘A house?’ Iris asked doubtfully, before she accepted the joint once more and had a toke. ‘I thought he had to take his girlfriend somewhere to get specialised care?’

  Lolita’s laugh edged towards hysteria. ‘We are—if going into a house to take us into another dimension is specialised care.’

  Jessie heard a whole lot of sarcasm in his sister’s tone, along with a note of uncertainty. No doubt she’d heard Tara’s grandfather verifying what he’d already told her. She was having second thoughts about her brother’s supposed delusions.

  Flame flattened a hand over his greying dreadlocks. ‘Man, if that’s frickin’ true, I so want to see it!’

  A flash of reflected light in the side window caught Jessie’s eyes. He turned to look out the rear window, seeing the endless wash of black behind them, before a flicker of headlights told him that a car was closing in from behind.

  Had it been the oncoming vehicle back on the highway? Was the vehicle another police car?

  Fuck.

  Jessie squeezed Tara’s hand, as if it was she who needed reassurance, before he leaned forward. ‘Flame, can you push this thing any faster?’