The Spaces in Between

by Chase Henderson

  It didn’t matter at the moment, because of the buzz Ryoma got from the case of Redbull that was in the vegetable crisper. He was also on a much higher quest – to get into Cameron’s liquor cabinet. However on a quick investigation all he found were empty bottles. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe Cameron didn’t have that great of a stock since he could will food and liquor into existence.

  That would be a very handy ability, Ryoma thought with Cameron’s brain. I…ought to look into how much of Cameron’s brain is still intact. Ryoma delved into Cameron’s memories. I know Cameron is from Earth, but how did he end up out here?

  Cameron’s memories started to play on the movie screen of Cameron’s mind. Ryoma remembered that he should turn off his cell phone, but since he didn’t own one he put the safety on his Smith and Wesson.

  8

  You would think that being in another Universe wouldn’t be that big of a deal to Cameron. If you think this surely your intergalactic terminology is flawed. The word you are thinking of is Galaxy, which is a collection of star systems. If he was merely in another galaxy that would be no big deal. Most people think that there should be a lot in the universe since it is infinite, but mathematicians and Douglas Adams know the truth. Infinity equals zero. There is not much out there in the Universe. The number of planets in the Universe that can support life are so few they can be rounded down to zero.

  That left very few options where Cameron could be.

  Now that would be the case if Cameron was in another Galaxy.

  But this is not the case at all. A Universe is a collection of all that there is in space. What is the point of a unit of measurement if all you are ever going to count is one? That is where the Multiverse comes in. Outside of this Universe and outside Creation is Aur. This is the great sea of magic and chaos that is pretty much beyond human comprehension. Floating in this sea are other Universes like islands. Each of these Universes is essentially similar, but there is a slight change that makes is drastically different.

  Each Universe is supposed to remain separate from the other. This extends past physical objects to the spiritual realms as well including even heaven, hell, and all the spaces in-between. Some go as far as to say there is an alternate version of us in each of these Universes that share the same soul. This is also known as horseshit. It requires a huge ego to think that you are so important the Multiverse would want to have several copies of you.

  Occasionally, these Universes collide and sometimes even merge. Not that anyone would notice it. If history and reality were to suddenly change people would just believe it was “always that way”, and move on with their lives. It didn’t matter that they were wrong, because at the same time they were right. When a change is made to a Universe it starts from the very beginning of that Universe.

  But there is one cross Universal event that is always noticed – a visitor.

  Visitors are not welcome in other Universes. Not in the sense that certain races and religions are not welcome in certain regions of West Virginia past dark, but that an object from another Universe is rejected like a bad kidney. Even if the conditions would be correct in their home Universe the same air in another universe becomes toxic, the water corrosive, and the ground lava.

  Cameron was looking at the century’s worth of damage that occurred in less than two decades. Now that he knew what to look for he began to notice that his Astral body was disintegrating. He had a feeling that his soul wouldn’t travel to this Universe’s afterlife. Matter cannot be destroyed, only changed. The Universe was converting him to matter from this Universe; Cameron didn’t want to find out what the basic components of a soul were, or if they could feel.

  9

  Ryoma found himself wishing for popcorn in Cameron’s minds eye theatre and it appeared in his hands. He tried some, but found it bland, overly greasy, and too salty. If he had taste buds when he started visiting the movie theatres Ryoma would have known that this was the authentic movie going experience. For the taste he was relying on Cameron’s memories. We may not always be able to pull up the memory of what popcorn tastes like, but it’s buried somewhere since we automatically know this flavor when we taste it.

  On the screen was what was seen through Cameron’s eye about five years ago based on Ryoma guess from the movie marquee Cameron glanced at while walking down the street. He approached a structure that looked to him like a series of caves with stairs leading up to each mouth. It was covered in the homeless. Did Americans build caves for their homeless? Seemed rather progressive.

  No, that’s just a monument. Cameron’s subconscious replied.

  Ryoma assumed this must have been near the ocean since the smell of dead fish almost overpowered the smell of human urine. He only found one of those hobo’s particularly interesting and that was he one wearing a messenger bag with a sword tucked between the bag’s flaps. Ryoma couldn’t quite identify that sword, but he found it very similar to the one William Wallace carried in Braveheart. He was confident in his knowledge that American’s never carried swords until now, but he noticed markers on the sword proclaiming “Made in Pakistan.” and “404 Stainless Steel”.

  Cameron was also interested in the man and called the man The Urban Shaman. The Urban Shaman was nowhere as dirty as the other homeless – he seemed to bathe at least twice a week. He probably washed his clothes once a month. He did reek but it was mostly of lavender, sandalwood, and other herbs that Cameron could not identify wafting from the Shaman’s messenger bag.

  “Are you the Urban Shaman?” he asked.

  “Yes,” the Urban Shaman replied, “One secret for one sandwich. That is the currency here.”

  “I beg you for an apprenticeship.”

  “Well that’s a different matter entirely. Are you willing to give up all your material possessions under my tutelage? Willing to live here amongst us for the length of your apprenticeship?”

  There was a pause. “Yeah, that’s fine.” What’s a month or two?

  “Alright. Hand me your billfold.” Cameron complied, and the Urban Shaman pocketed it. Before Cameron could protest the Urban Shaman shifted around Cameron and dropped the wad of cash into a nearby Salvation Army kettle. “Let this be the first lesson: don’t hand all your money, credit cards, and plane tickets to a complete stranger.”

  ***

  The scene changed. The trees, sorry, tree was now in bloom.

  A man in a business suit dropped a Subway bag at the Urban Shaman’s feet at the homeless monument. “It used to just cost a six inch.”

  “Inflation,” the Urban Shaman replied and gestured at Cameron. “Oh, your wife is cheating on you.”

  “That’s not what I was going to ask you about. I know that.”

  “And this doesn’t bother you?”

  “I need to know what next week’s lotto numbers are, then I can leave that bitch.”

  “You’re mistress is pregnant with twins. She just got out of the gyno’s and dialed your number.” The businessman’s cell phone rang.

  ‘Hello? Are you sure?” the man answered. He wandered off lost in his cell phone call.

  “Why is it that you never tell them the future?” Cameron said. “With that pinpoint accuracy I’m sure you could have given him those numbers.”

  “He did not deserve those numbers,” the Urban Shaman said and opened the Subway bag. “The future is next to impossible to accurately predict, but I can see the past flawlessly.” He handed a wrapped six-inch sub to Cameron.

  “This is a veggie sub,” Cameron protested, “What a cheap skate! You could easily make a living with your skills.”

  “I know that’s why I am.”

  “No, I mean a real living like with money. Lot’s of psychics do it.”

  “Adding money into the equation cheapens the gift,” the Urban Shaman said, “I would hardly call those charlatans psychic.”

  “Well, why won’t you teach me how to do that?” Cameron took a bite of his sub.

  “I think this whole t
irade should answer your question.”

  “But it’s been six months and all you’ve shown me is the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram and the Middle Pillar. I don’t know where you’ve been but those rituals are pretty basic and pretty well known in occult circles.”

  The Urban Shaman held up a hand to shush Cameron while he took a bite of his sandwich. Then another. “You say you knew them before, but your pronunciation is horrible. I will teach you no more until you can at least get those two right.”

  “Yes, yes, teaching by the fine tradition of the Golden Dawn. Look those dark ages of the Occult are over. This is the Age of Aquarius! All of these common techniques are out in the open now. I came to you for tutoring in your own skills.”

  The Urban Shaman rolled his eyes. “And that’s what I’m doing, but we seem to be going over this everyday. I’m not sure if it’s my skills you’re actually looking for. If you want to be a TV psychic I’m sure you’ve got all you need to start now. Geeze, if you practiced as passionately as you’d argue with me it probably wouldn’t take you another six months to get those rituals right.”

  “Another six months!” Cameron said. “I don’t have this kind of time. The world is still moving on out there while we’re still squatting in this fucking, piss-soaked monument!” He threw his sub to the ground. “I’m leaving.”

  With a flourish the Urban Shaman produced Cameron’s billfold from his sleeve. “Let it never be known that I am a thief or a slaver.” Cameron grabbed the wallet, but the Urban Shaman held on with ferocity rarely seen in him. There was a sense of urgency in his eyes. “Karmic debt is upon the teacher for the student’s actions. Please use what I have taught you wisely.” It was the same look he gave Warren Elliot before releasing him.

  Cameron wretched the billfold out of the Urban Shaman’s hands. “You’ve taught me a couple of banishing rituals. What wrong could I do with that?”

  ***

  But he ditched the Urban Shaman so that’s not where Cameron got his powers. Ryoma pondered in the sticky theatre seat. Why did he want power so badly?

  A reply echoed through the theatre in Cameron’s voice: “I was afraid of being a nobody. Just another dull, boring existence.”

  Upfront, but greedy. Then where the hell did you get this power?

  ***

  The screen changed.

  Ryoma was now looking in at a hotel room later that day. A notepad on the nightstand had a green Radisson logo on it. Cameron’s mind was filled with planning. He had left his job as a graphic designer and liquidated all his possessions to travel around the world learning occult secrets. He was four months behind schedule, but fortunately the whole debacle didn’t cost him much.

  His next route would be San Francisco – there had been rumor of a psychic that could shoot laser beams from her eyes. A skill she had been taught by the ghost of Bigfoot being channeled through Uri Geller’s zombie from an alternate universe. Or something to that extent, but most likely the phenomenon moved on. Something as big as that usually vanished within six months.

  Before going to bed Cameron preformed the rituals he had come to loathe so much. It was a habit. He quickly ran through drawing the Pentagrams, chanting the Godnames in each corner, and invoking the archangels. Then moved on to chanting the Godnames of the Middle Pillar. He vibrated each Hebrew name of God in the base of his throat.

  But when he reached the second to last name. SHADDAI-EL-CHAI. The name of God in the Astral the word got caught in his throat. With much force Cameron was able to finally spit out the words encased in mucus. Then everything turned white and a searing energy poured through him. It started at the top of his head and drizzled down his body. His skin tingled and burned as it poured down like a honey pot of energy over his head.

  Once his body was caked in the energy it pierced through the top of his head and splattered at the soles of his feet. He was being filled with this energy. It was like he had been hollow all of his life. There were things inside him sure, but it seemed to him that his body was actually a vessel for this power. Once every nook and cranny inside him was filled the energy overflowed from the top of his head.

  It rushed over his body again and collected on the ground at his feet. Soon he was an ankle deep in this liquid electricity. Then knee deep. Before long Cameron was struggled to his chin above it. This was getting serious now. He could drown in this energy.

  He quickly clamped his hand over his mouth and nose to hold in oxygen while he found a way out of this ocean. Ryoma was not worried at all in fact he was both intrigued and amused. Just like the audience in today’s movies Ryoma was positive no harm would come to Cameron since he was the star of his own past.

  Cameron realized that it didn’t matter that the energy would fill his lungs. It had already been filled with the energy that went through his head. He inhaled deeply and his lungs were on fire. He wished he could relax and completely give in to the feeling. It was like complete ecstasy and agony at the same time.

  The power poured and penetrated through each cell and atom of Cameron’s being. His stomach screamed out and knotted up. He felt that if this was going to go on much longer he would burst. His cells and atoms vibrated and it continued to go on, but he didn’t burst. The lights dimmed and the feeling left him.

  Of course he still felt something. Cameron felt the best he had ever in his life. He felt bigger than anyone else back on the Earth. Pure energy not blood rushed through his veins. Every part of him was vibrating and ready to act. Reality was listening attentively to his every whim.

  So he was just some spoiled brat that got all this power tossed at him, because he didn’t listen and ended up abusing one of the rituals the Urban Shaman taught him. He is no great master this was all just an accident. Somehow this is all very fitting… Ryoma tried to remember what exactly was the correct pronunciation of SHADDAI-EL-CHAI, but for the death of him couldn’t remember a detail of it. He re-watched the whole exchange several times and still got nothing.

  Fine, then. What did Cameron first do on the Astral?

  ***

  The first thing that Cameron did was, well, Lilith.

  Of all the spirits that took notice of Cameron’s ascension Lilith was the first on the scene. It really wouldn’t have mattered if she was the last spirit on the scene she was certainly the only one endowed to convince him to follow her. He spent three days in Fae where she taught him the basics of the Astral. How to influence it to bring change in the Physical, how to travel through it, and words of power to bind lesser spirits to him.

  But mostly it was just sex. Despite his reservations Ryoma didn’t bother to look away or fast-forward, but he did resist the urge to hop on the memory of Cameron’s nerve endings. Now Cameron was in one of Lilith’s majestic beds. This one was her third most majestic bed. It was two times larger than a king size bed with tall posts and curtains surrounding it. It was littered with silk pillows, but sheets were unnecessary.

  He had her in the spoon’s position and his left arm was asleep. He was thinking about how lucky he was. This tutor was a lot better than the last one. What was his name? The Urban Shaman, that’s right. He didn’t want these days to end. He smiled knowing that tomorrow would bring more of the same. This was a routine he could get accustomed.

  Suddenly he remembers something. Something that hasn’t come up or mattered to him in the last three days. My physical body! I haven’t tended to it for the past three days. I’ll die of thirst if I don’t go take care of it. Yet despite this urgency he still had to will himself to go...

  But he couldn’t get up. He counted down from ten. And again. Finally he used the big guns, “If you don’t get up when I count down from ten you will never be able to know this feeling again.” That one did the trick. It was a threat he learned from hypnosis to get people out of deep trances when they don’t want to leave. Of course, no one can stay in a trance forever despite what movies and television tell you. However, escaping from reality like that can lead to a lot of
problems in the long run. Like forgetting to feed and water your body.

  He turned his mind’s eye to the Physical and let go. There was a pause as if reality needed a moment to process this new data. Then the silver cord tugged Cameron away. He opened his eyes expecting to see his hotel room, but instead he was greeted with a white room and the chirping of life support machines.

  He tried to cry out, but something was caught in his throat. Cameron’s eyes darted about and he saw that he full of tubes. So many he couldn’t even fathom their purpose. He struggled to move, but his limbs just didn’t seem to really give a crap. Geeze, out for three days and my body gets that pissed off? He weighed his options for what would be the best solution to wake up his limbs.

  A young blonde nurse walked through the door with a cart of supplies including sponges and a basin. Judging by her reaction she would have dropped it all if she were carrying them. One of the coma patients just woke up and seems to be choking on his feeding tube. She leapt across the room to pull the feeding tube, which Cameron would remember as the worst feeling in his life. He would always hold a place in his heart for porn stars from this day on.

  “Was all this really necessary?” Cameron asked.

  The nurse seemed to ignore his question. “What is your name?”

  “Um…Cameron,” he replied.

  She wrote something on his chart. “I need to get the Doctor.” There was such a reverent tone in her voice that Cameron assumed that the Doctor should be capitalized like talking about God.