by Jeff Povey
Great. After twelve years of his not being there I now have to threaten him if he comes anywhere near me.
And if he does then I’ll have to act. I’ll have to stop him anyway I can. But can I really leave him lying in the bedroom with his throat cut open for New-Mum to find?
Jesus.
Can I do that to her? Can I do it to myself? What the hell have I turned into? As I hear the bedroom door open I let the brooch drop from my hand.
I can’t hurt my dad. No matter what he’s done.
He walks in and shuts the bedroom door gently behind him.
THE END IS NIGH ON IMPOSSIBLE TO SECOND GUESS
The train pulls into darkness.
GG stops it with a gentle shunt and three toots of the horn. The beeps that signal the opening of the doors pierce the night and I stand up and look into the pre-dawn maw and realise that almost all of the lights in the town have gone out. Dawn is maybe half an hour away, but to all intents and purposes we’re looking at a blackout.
Then Johnson is at my side, staring at the tiny station and the road that will take us into the heart of town. ‘Run the plan by me again,’ he whispers.
‘Phase One: find Another-Billie. She heals everyone we’ve brought back with us. Phase Two: Other-Johnson swaps people back into their rightful bodies.’
‘Phase Three?’
‘My dad sends us all home.’
‘Where’s Another-Billie?’ Johnson asks.
‘You know the private hospital? In the posh part of town?’
‘Up the posh hill?’ Johnson asks.
‘Up the posh hill.’ I nod. The same one Other-Johnson roared up on his gleaming, powerful motorbike. The thought gives me a quiet tingle.
I step on to the platform and see GG limping towards us. How he’s still standing I have no idea, but I’ve already put him to the top of Another-Billie’s list of patients.
‘Tickets, please,’ he jokes through his relentless pain.
‘You’ll have to fine us,’ I smile back, playing along.
‘That’s fine with me.’ He cackles. ‘Do you see what I did there?’
Johnson jumps down from the train and lands with alien grace. He turns and holds out his hand for me to take. I reach for it, but he grabs me instead and sweeps me into his arms. I shriek and then laugh as he cradles me for a moment.
‘Gotcha,’ he says quietly.
‘But who’s got you?’ I tease.
I stare into the black pools of his eyes and wonder if this is the moment that he finally kisses me. He’s in Other-Johnson’s body and surely some of his swagger is going to rub off on him. Other-Johnson didn’t hesitate when his moment came. He kissed me like there was nothing in the world that was going to prise us apart. So c’mon, Johnson, I’m waiting. I’m ready.
He sets me down gently. Without a kiss. So I decide to hell with it and go to kiss him when the Ape yells—
‘My turn!’ He leaps out of the train in a vain attempt to be caught and swept up in Johnson’s arms. But Johnson is taken off guard and he falls down under the Ape’s bulk.
‘Dazza!’ Johnson lets out a muffled yell.
‘My turn!’ Non-Ape leaps out of the train and lands even more heavily on the Ape and Johnson combined.
GG looks at the sprawling mess on the platform.
‘I love those guys,’ he grins.
Even with his super-sinewy strength, Johnson can barely dislodge the combined meat and flab of the Apes, who are laughing hysterically. Non-Ape gets to his feet first.
‘My turn!’ In less than a second he leaps back on to the train and then dives off it again. Crashing back on to the Ape and Johnson.
‘For God’s sake!’ I snap and start dragging at Non-Ape. ‘None of this is appropriate behaviour.’ I sound like a teacher, but I am so tired, so sore all over, and all I want is to go home. ‘Get off him!’
Non-Ape climbs to his feet again, sheepish, head bowed. ‘Just cos you want to be on him,’ he mumbles.
‘What? What did you say?’
‘Nothing,’ he mutters, chin still bowed towards his chest.
The Ape joins his comrade. He’s less cowed by my outburst. ‘You used to be fun.’
Johnson lies groaning on the platform. ‘Good job we’re heading for a hospital.’
I reach down and help heft him to his feet. He cracks his rubbery-skinned neck and cricks his spine into place. ‘Let’s go find Another-Billie. No way we can drag all the bodies to her. She needs to come to us.’
‘Let’s not forget Lucas,’ GG tells us.
He’s talking about our Lucas who hanged himself the first night we were sent to the empty world. GG beams through the dark. ‘Look at little GG, the walking, talking school register.’
‘Rev Two is out there,’ I warn them. ‘Don’t forget what she can do.’
Rev Two has a hand that turns blue and steals life, sucking it out of you until you’re just a grey husk. She did it to Other-Johnson by accident and she sees us, our kind, as her mortal enemies. The only reason she hasn’t done the same thing to my dad is because Another-Billie promised not to tell her that he was human. But, as my dad said when he contacted me in the Ferrari’s wing mirror, Rev Two now knows that he’s not her dad.
I turn to Non-Ape. ‘You need to stay here with the train. Keep guard.’
Non-Ape nods. ‘There’s going to be trouble?’
‘Maybe. Probably.’
‘Good.’ A grin ripples along his wide mouth.
‘How come I can’t keep guard?’ the Ape asks.
‘Because we might have trouble in town, so you have to come with us.’
‘Good. I like trouble.’ A grin ripples along his wide mouth.
‘How come I can’t help with trouble in town?’ Non-Ape looks put out.
‘Because you’re guarding against trouble here. Remember?’
‘Good.’ Another grin ripples along his wide mouth.
‘How come he gets all the fun?’ the Ape asks.
Please, shoot me now, I think.
‘Look, we don’t even know if there will be trouble—’
‘—Gotcha!’ The Ape laughs right into my face. ‘Every time!’
I look at his laughing face and then lean forward and press my head into one of his huge shoulders. I let it rest there until I can gather what’s left of my brain. Johnson pats me on the back.
‘We need to get moving,’ he says.
GG tightens his sling round his broken arm. ‘Got to get me some healing.’
We set off into the night. The Ape, GG, Johnson and me. Leaving Non-Ape on high alert, watching over the bodies of our friends and doppelgangers. Until we hear a loud rapping on one of the windows of the first-class carriage. It’s the Moth.
‘Hey! Why do you always forget me?’
We all look suitably apologetic, but turn and head for the electronic gates that lead out of the station.
‘Relax, my little amigo, we’ll be back to forget you later!’ GG calls to the Moth.
As we walk away, I try and stay alert for any type of contact from my dad. Whether it comes in person or in a dream or a mirage in a mirror: I’m desperate to hear from him. To talk to him. To be able to finally be with him.
Twelve empty years are about to end.
NO BED OF ROSES
My dad sits down on the edge of the bed and his weight squashes me even further into the dusty carpet. He knows exactly where I am and I probably can’t roll away even if I wanted to. I’m trapped by his weight. This is the same man I never thought I’d ever see again. A man I helped bring back to life and who, when I saw him lying in that private hospital bed, made me want to cry. I nearly died several times over and every single near-death was worth it because I knew I’d be seeing him again. I’d be waving goodbye to twelve empty years; to starting again with him and my mum, picking our lives up and piecing them back together. Not so long ago he was going to be my saviour, and here he is the complete opposite. There’s a lesson there. You don’t always
get what you think you deserve.
He takes a long moment before eventually speaking.
‘I wanted to be a hero.’ He speaks quietly. ‘Her hero. Your mum’s.’
This isn’t quite the anger I was expecting.
‘I lost you.’ Here it comes, I think. The liar is about to tell the truth. ‘A silly, stupid accident. You walked into the road . . . I’d left the door open. You were always brave and adventurous. Until night-time. Then you got scared. But the flat door was open. And you, little sweet four-year-old you, toddled out of it. Passed all those other flats, and of course no one saw you. Not a single person stopped you going down the flights of steps.’
He stops, giving himself a moment as the memory eats into him. ‘I was wrapped up in my discovery. An amazing discovery. It’s all numbers, you know. The only true universal language – and I miraculously wrote them down in the right way. Or the wrong way. Still don’t know which one it is. But I performed an experiment and created a key, a molecular key from an equation, and opened a door. In my lab late at night I made the biggest discovery in history.’
He stops again and then his next words sound like they’re trying to climb out over a small boulder in his throat. ‘I was so thrilled. I raced home, woke Mum up, tried to explain and then thought no, no, I can’t tell her, I can’t tell anyone. Not until I know the rules. Because there’s always rules. If you break open the fabric of everything you know, there’s going to be a price to pay. Unless you take it one step at a time. And then there was you. I was so amazed by my discovery I forgot about you. I forgot to go into your room like I did every morning and wake you up. So brave, adventurous little Reva gets up by herself and heads outside. Goes down the steps, probably singing or playing a game in her head, going on a great adventure. It probably takes a lot of effort to keep climbing down those steps. But you don’t fall or tumble. And I wish you had, because what’s a few bruises compared to what actually happened?’
He’s silent once more as the sharp, twisted knots of metal from the bed frame continue to dig deeply into the back of my head.
‘While I’m making history, dreaming about publishing the papers, about winning awards, being famous and all the things that seem meaningless now, you walked out into the road. Our precious Reva.’ He swallows and I think, from the jerky movement transmitted through the bed he wipes his eyes. ‘The van driver didn’t even know he’d hit you.’ Silence. ‘I’m ecstatic, running round the flat with joy, until I see the open door. I looked for you in the flat, then ran out, nearly breaking my neck as I leaped down those steps, yelling your name. I saw your hand first. Your tiny, unmoving hand sticking out from under the van.’
It hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m not me. I’m not who he said I was and I’m not who I thought I was.
‘I got you out from under the van, ran back to the flat to call for an ambulance. But you weren’t breathing; you were just lying in my arms and I knew I’d already lost you. My little Reva.’
I start crying for the little me. And for everything that’s built up over the last weeks. It all comes flooding out in a silent stream of tears.
‘I held you and thought that if I’m feeling like this, like I want to die, then what will it do to your mum?’ He sniffs. ‘That’s when my eyes settled on the papers. My amazing discovery that had made me so happy . . . I almost tore them up, so angry that I’d lost you because of a few numbers. And then I realised: I could use those numbers to find another you. To enter another world and take another Reva for us. You’ve got to understand I was desperate, broken. So I did what I insanely thought was the right thing to do. I left as quickly as I could with you in my arms. I thought I’d get back easily as soon as I swapped you. No one would know. Another version of me would find a Reva by the wheels of a van. It’s wrong, it’s hideous, but I did it nevertheless.’
I am so squished I can barely move my hand to wipe the flood of tears from my eyes.
‘But there are so many variables. Worlds where you didn’t exist, where I didn’t exist. Where you’re not something that is as human as we are, or maybe you’re older or younger because time isn’t straight-forward. I carried you across worlds and couldn’t find the right you to make the switch. But I did eventually find a place. A lovely place. It was empty. Totally empty and totally beautiful. So I left you in that heaven. You know the place; you’ve been there.’
The empty world.
He buried me there.
Is that why the empty world never wanted me? It already had a Reva Marsalis. It despised chaos, and what’s more chaotic than too many versions of one person?
‘I took you to the church in the centre of town. I cried for weeks there. But I had to carry on, had to find you. Had to make everything right again.’
My dad has tampered with the laws of the multiverse in an unimaginable way. He’s probably changed the fabric of a thousand realities. Leaving only one truth: his Reva died and he should have tried to accept that.
‘I opened door after door to so many worlds. Once I had the key, it was so simple. I created new matter with my formula. There’s a finite amount of molecules in any world and if you add to them then you need to make room for the new ones. They elbow their way into existence and squeeze the old familiar molecules right up against the edge of reality. So much so that something’s got to give. And a door opens. Over and over and over I did that. Until I realised I was lost. I didn’t know how to get back to my own world.’
He rises from the bed and I listen as he closes the creaky wardrobe door. Then there’s the sound of the lock turning. I can see his polished shoes level with my eyeline.
‘I almost gave up. Resigned myself to never finding a replacement, never going home again. Then I got caught in a dying, burning world so I opened one last door to escape and finally there you were. Older, but I knew it was you. I panicked, the flames were coming for me, so I used the key and tried to reach you. But this time something went wrong. I don’t know how it happened – maybe it was because I’d given up; maybe it was because I was so panicked about dying in the flames – but rather than me moving to another world I pulled us both back to that empty world. A place I’d have time and space to talk to you and finally take you home. I didn’t expect two versions of you to emerge. I was burning to death, I was desperate, and somehow made a mistake. But that won’t happen again, I swear on my life to you. We don’t need to go anywhere any more.’
Something lands beside my dad’s shoes. It’s a set of rolled-up papers. And they’re on fire. His impossible formula.
As soon as I see them, I start to scramble out from under the bed but my dad presses down hard on it, trapping me there.
‘Reva, listen to me.’
I kick and fight and pull and push, but he pushes as hard as he can down on the heavy old bed.
‘This is us now.’
‘This isn’t even the world you came from!’ I scream at him. The formula is igniting; the flames are burning brighter.
‘This is us now, Reva! I’m done searching. I’ll never find my real world again.’
‘That’s not your wife.’
‘But she is in so many ways.’
‘She’s stuck in a repeating day, so what does twelve years really matter to her? Why does she keep celebrating something that hasn’t happened? I didn’t die; you didn’t leave. Not in this world. It only exists in this one day. She can’t have memories, can she?’
My dad takes a long time to respond. ‘All that matters is we’re here now,’ he says as gently as he can muster. ‘Maybe what happened to my Rev transcends the worlds, echoing its tragedy over and over. Reaching out to all of the versions of your mum in some way. Hurting them, debilitating them. But I beat that tragedy, I got past the heartbreak. I made us whole again.’
‘But what about all the other Reva dads?’ I am so panicked I’m now looking again for the brooch I dropped. If I can find it, I can scrabble out from under this bed and force him to write another formula. Surely, after tw
elve years, he must know it off by heart. ‘All of them must have done what you did and discovered this stupid formula. Just like my dad did. He disappeared, just like you did.’
‘Reva, there are no other versions of me who discovered the formula. I’d have met them. If your dad left, it was because he chose to, not because he found the formula.’
‘No . . . ’ I cry.
‘He walked out on you. It’s that simple.’
‘Never, no, that’s a lie. That’s what you do, you lie and you lie.’
‘Believe me, I haven’t met a single me crossing worlds; no one else got it right. Others may have tried, but no one succeeded. And no other version of your dad would love you as much as I do.’
‘No!’ I wail.
‘Your real dad is probably living in another town somewhere, maybe even with a new wife and family.’
‘Stop.’ I continue to wail at him. ‘No, no, no!’
‘I’m the dad you always wanted. Because I’m the only one who wanted you. We’re together again and that’s all that matters. Me, you and Mum.’
‘She’s not my mum, you’re not my dad! You can do stupid things like appear in a mirage or a mirror.’ The words are pouring from me. ‘You have . . . gifts. Powers. You . . . You have . . . ’
It dawns so late it should be called dusk.
‘How could I have believed that you were my dad? How could I have done that? All this time you were doing weird things and I was never less than convinced you were you.’
‘You wanted to believe. And that’s half the battle,’ he tells me quietly.
When you want something so badly and for so long, then it’s almost forgivable. But my blindness to an obvious fact got all of my friends killed and there’s no forgiveness in that.
‘But look at us, these past few weeks we do belong to each other, in a way. Look at how happy we are. I’m making up for what I did all those years ago, paying it all back.’