Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay (4 page)
Read Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay Online
Authors: Abra Ebner
She laughed then, and grabbed my hand, shaking it as though it were a bell.
“Kenzie…” A woman I assumed was her mother stepped out from behind a tree. “There you are darling.” She walked up behind her and hoisted her off the ground, giving me a smile. “Who is your new friend, Kenzie?”
Kenzie took a deep breath. “This is Jordan. He says he doesn’t have cooties.”
Her mother laughed and smiled, pinching Kenzie’s nose in a loving manner. “Well, Jordan, I’m sure she’d love to stay and play, but it’s already after four and we need to finish unpacking.”
Kenzie let out a discontented sigh. “Mama, I hate unpacking.”
Her mother laughed again. “I promised you a candy bar if you were good, remember?”
Kenzie’s vibrant green eyes lit up and she let out a gasp of excitement.
Her mother looked back at me. “But maybe we will see you again Jordan. We’re new to the neighborhood.” She turned and pointed toward the house, “That one there.” She knelt down and shook my hand then, giving me a warm smile that reminded me of my mother on her well days.
I nodded, still shocked that Kenzie was the girl from the future. They turned then and walked away and I watched them until they left the park. Feeling exhausted, I knelt back to the ground and sat, thinking about all that had happened.
Fate was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t know what. Kenzie was important to me somehow, but she had not known me at twenty-seven, as though this meeting, now, had never happened. I furrowed my brow. Had she met me now because of meeting me on the bus? Had I changed the past by changing the future, just as I had changed the future by going into my past? Or had her future always led her here and something else had prevented me from meeting her? I could already see she was someone I wanted in my life, so why hadn’t our paths crossed again? Why hadn’t we become better friends?
I pondered this for a moment before remembering the time and realizing that I myself needed to get home to make dinner before Father arrived. I turned and ran from the park and down the street, past three houses until I reached the smallest one at the end, the green house with the messy yard. I kept one eye on the moving truck as I walked onto my porch, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Kenzie. Seeing that no one was outside, I turned my gaze back to my house, swinging my arms at my sides. A sad sigh escaped my lips as I looked to the place in the driveway where I had hugged my mother only moments ago, the place where I had changed my past and what seemed my future.
I raised my brows, noticing that something was different. I racked my brain in an attempt to remember what the house had been like this morning, before all that had happened, forcing myself to see what was different. I began to talk to myself, listing things that were the same. It was then I noticed that my mother’s old car that had sat abandoned for years in the driveway was no longer there, with no sign that it ever had been either, or at least not for a very long time. I looked toward the park, trying to remember what it was I had done. Had Father simply sold it? Had it been stolen? Or was it what I had said to my mother?
I gasped, realizing that everything made sense. If I hadn’t known Kenzie in the future, then it made sense that fate already knew I would go back and change my past, therefore changing the path my mother and I had taken, and therefore leaving the car somewhere new.
I blinked a few times, confused. It was then that a sharp bark caught me off guard and I looked to the fence. Rover wagged his tail and stuck his nose through the wood separators. My heart rate surged. I had changed it. I had saved the dog! Another noise pulled my attention away from Rover and to the street where my father’s car puttered down the block. I drew in a frantic breath as I ran for the door in my attempt to get inside before he saw me. My feet pounded across the wood, but when I grabbed the handle, I found it was locked. Trying again I became frustrated as I rummaged in my pocket for a key, a key that was no longer there.
It was then that my father pulled into the drive, stopping the engine and falling out of his car, already drunk. Pulling himself off the ground, he slammed the door behind him as he steadied himself, taking a deep breath. I froze, terrified that he would see me and beat me like he often would when I was this late. He stumbled up the path, fumbling with the keys in his hand and mumbling under his breath. A breeze blew toward me and I could smell the whiskey, a smell that had become so normal to me.
He grunted as he looked up, noticing me.
“What do you want boy?” he bellowed, looking at me as though he didn’t recognize who I was. He teetered as he stood there, his eyes crazy and lost. “You best get from my property boy, I don’t want any trouble!”
I had heard him say this before when the Boy Scouts would come for our Christmas tree, something we never had because we celebrated nothing. I looked down at my feet out of fear, realizing he was so drunk that he had no idea who I was, and I wanted it to stay that way.
“Er… Sorry, sir.” I scurried from the door and across the lawn to the sidewalk.
“Damn kids,” my father muttered, dropping his lunch pail to the floor and pushing the key into the lock. He looked over his shoulder at me and I looked away, running down the street and out of view.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. Now what? What had I done? I shook my head, finding I was lost. It was true, changing my past had taken my mother and me away from here, making it true that I would not know Kenzie in the future because we would have never been neighbors. It was all connected somehow, but then, where was my mother? Where was home? I looked around as the afternoon light began to fade into evening. I felt the contents that filled my pockets, pulling out a wad of papers and cards that hadn’t been there before.
I searched through each, finding nothing but coupons and tickets to movies I was sure I’d never seen but somehow felt I had. There was one card coated in plastic and I pulled it closer, reading the words. “Boston Children’s Hospice,” was all it read. I felt my heart sink, realizing what it meant.
I thought about my mother then, wondering what had happened, wondering if what I had said had given her the strength to leave, but to where? If this card were true then it meant I was orphaned, but why? Clearly she had taken me, clearly I had another life other than this but I had pulled myself from it, messed with God’s plan and left myself no more than a stray.
I thought to go back and see what had happened but my body ached. Searching through my other pocket I pulled out an orange popsicle stick. Shocked, I checked my pants, the same pants I wore this morning and the same pants with a faint orange stain. I exhaled hard, finding that despite the fact I had moved about time, wearing other clothes and living other lives, some things still remained with me.
Not knowing where to go, I made my way back to the park where I climbed into the top section of the jungle gym and leaned against the wall. My stomach grumbled and I began to shake. I thought about Kenzie and the way she had cared for me, understood me without words. I tried to remember the fact that I was still six, still young though my brain had grown considerably.
In a split second I had changed my entire life without knowing it. I was surprised as a wave of relief rushed over me. I was free, free from it all, free from the world and all it made me do. This was my life now, and I was going to conquer it. I rolled my hands into fists and pounded them with happiness against the plastic of the jungle gym, letting out an energized yelp.
After a moment of excitement I finally finished with a contented sigh, leaning back against the blue plastic wall and closing my eyes as the possibilities unrolled in my head. For today, I would settle for a plan, but tomorrow, this life was mine.
Statement from Dr. Ashcroft
Vincent Memorial Hospital, Boston
August 4, 2009
12:23 a.m.
Agent Donnery:
So did he start right away, changing your life that is?
Dr. Ashcroft:
(pause) Yes and no, I think it was likely that he spent time with his mother first, trying to save her. He knew I would always be here, naturally, so he had the time. This was when the nightmares started, though, and I began to see him in my dreams. I never realized it was him until much later, as in just a few days ago. I had my hunches, but I thought I was simply manifesting his image because I wished the man was him. Turns out it really was.
Agent Donnery:
Dreams? What kind of dreams?
Dr. Ashcroft:
They were more like memories really. Because Jordan changed major portions of my life, two paths were created. In my dreams I lived the old path, where I remained scarred and became a nurse, and while I was awake, I lived the one I’m still on now.
Agent Donnery:
So according to his journal here, what came next?
Dr. Ashcroft:
I honestly don’t know because I never had the time to look, but I’m sure we can find out. (pause) Wow I… I do remember this, but I’m surprised that he went there first.
Agent Donnery:
What happened?
Dr. Ashcroft:
(pause) I’ll tell you my side of it and then his, so that you can see how my dreams and real life mixed, so that you can better understand what it’s like to be a part of his world.
Agent Donnery:
Yes, that would help.
Dr. Ashcroft:
This isn’t the true version of the story, but it’s the one I remember. What you need to understand is that since there were two life paths created for me, he was hopping between both. In this entry, I didn’t have the scars.
Agent Donnery:
But if this came next, why was it you had no scars? Wouldn’t he need to change that first?
Dr. Ashcroft:
Remember, Agent, all of this is going to be backwards. His fate was already sealed. At one point or another, he was going to save me from the accident that burned my face, so that life path was already changed out of anticipation. I guess the best advice I can give you is to listen and try to smooth it all out in the end.
Agent Donnery:
I’m only shaking my head because this may be one of the strangest things I’ve encountered to date.
Dr. Ashcroft:
Really? What about the alien cover-up?
Agent Donnery:
(laughter) We all know that aliens don’t exist, Doctor.
Dr. Ashcroft:
Perhaps, but I can tell from the smirk on your face that you’re lying.
Agent Donnery:
Believe what you want, Doctor, but right now let’s just focus on your phenomenon, shall we?
Dr Ashcroft:
So you’ve never seen another Shifter before? Why is that?
Agent Donnery:
They’re too hard to catch. For all I know, I have met one before, though I don’t have the sort of dreams you have. There is really nothing we know about them, that’s why your situation is so amazing and important. It’s our first chance to get inside their world and see what the dangers are.
Dr. Ashcroft:
I understand.
Agent Donnery:
Shall we continue?
Dr. Ashcroft:
Very well.
Told by Dr. Ashcroft,
Stories from the journals of Patient #32185
December 8th, 2002
1:51 p.m.
I looked at the clock and then back at the test, seeing I only had nine minutes left to finish nearly half the problems. I brushed my long, auburn locks from my eyes, finding that the cute haircut I had insisted on was now nothing more than a nuisance. I tapped the pencil against the page, the rubber of the eraser bouncing it back toward me, creating a meditative motion that only left my mind whirling with anything but the task at hand.
I couldn’t shake the dream I’d had the night before, and though I tried to erase it, it felt too real to forget. For the last ten years I had been plagued by these dreams, as though I was also living another life when I fell asleep. The lack of rest kept me on edge, and the constant déjà vu was beginning to make me think I was some kind of psychic.
Last night I dreamt that my beautiful face was scarred and mangled, as though I’d been burned. It horrified me to see myself that way, but something about it also felt free and relaxing. Being that I was beautiful made my everyday life here in the real world hard, distracting. The self in my dreams had time to think, time to be alone, and I envied it. Pressing my lips together, I forced air from my lungs as it blew at the edges of the paper.
I needed to pass this test to get into pre-med, and then, eventually, Harvard, but at this point there was no use. My fingers curled into my hair as my forehead slipped toward the desk, makeup smearing across my flawless face, but it didn’t matter. Perhaps I should come to school without showering, maybe then there wouldn’t be so much pressure to be perfect. I looked at the clock. In six minutes my fate would be sealed and my grade would go down in history. This was the deciding moment of my life: will I be a nurse, or doctor?
My head began to pound as anxiety set in and blood rushed to my cheeks. I looked around at my peers, seeing that some of them had already finished and were lounging in their chairs. My boyfriend, Max, sat across the room, separated from me by the religious teacher that hated the way we looked at each other. Max didn’t look too concerned with his work, but it didn’t matter for him, either. He had already been recruited to go to Boston College on an Athletic Scholarship in the fall, the same school I had planned to attend for my pre-med.
