HUT

    The black sedan pulled into the parking lot, and screeched to a stop. I could feel my temperature rising - threatening to boil my blood and cook my insides as though I were a thanksgiving turkey.

    "Goddamn it" the driver shouted while reaching for my belt.

     I slumped over top of him, no longer in control of my body. I willed myself to keep my eyes open and attempted to speak. I begged my lips to form words. I had to get inside. I had to be contained. I needed my molecular structure to be cooled immediately and brought within acceptable levels of vibration. But no words would form, no orders would pass my lips. Unconsciousness descended and I floated in the void waiting for rescue...or damnation.

    "She's coming to" murmured a voice that seemed hollow and faint.

    My eyelids fluttered open and I peered into the face of a trusted colleague.

    "Marie?" I inquired, "Am I..."

   I raised my head and looked around the tiny enclosure. The capsule was small, just 18 inches high, and 3 feet wide. I touched the sides and felt the cool chill emanating from the walls.

  "Looks like you got me into the coffin just in the nick of time!"

   "You have no idea how close you came Carly. That was immensely stupid. You had a time frame. You should have stuck to it" She shook her head in frustration.

    "Don't start Marie, you aren't the one whose jumping tomorrow, are you? I may not come back. I - they- deserved a good bye".

    "You knew what you were signing up for Carly, for God sakes this is your project"

    "Yes I did, and I don't regret my decision, if this works...my god think of the implications. But they didn't sign up for this. My family never agreed to have their lives turned upside down. I had to give them something to hang onto, some explanation, and I refuse to regret that either" I glanced up sharply and stared at the woman whom I had grown so close to, the person who had helped design the experiment and silently pleaded with her to understand.

    "Alright Carly" she sighed, "Get some sleep...we'll start tomorrow".

   I smiled broadly, "Forgiven me already? You never could resist my eloquent charms".

   "Bull shit" she disguised behind a cough, "Go to sleep!"
  
   I watched her exit the room and wondered what it might be like...visiting another universe. I remembered our first theoretical conversations of inter dimensional travel - the science was young but exciting. It had recently been discovered that at a subatomic level it was possible to send an electron to a separate universe - for it to exist here and there, simultaneously. The now famed quantum physicist had cooled the electron to a drastic temperature and then deprived it of oxygen - which prevented the atom from vibrating. Somehow the combination created the perfect environment for inter dimensional multiverse travel.

   We worked from there, testing different theories, moving to more complex particles, eventually one celled organisms, and now after many years - the attempt for human uni travel, or HUT - as we dubbed it. Through gene manipulation and a regime of drugs I have created in myself a type of tuning fork. I vibrate down to my subatomic particles, the vibrations in turn keep me warm enough to survive subzero temperature with very little damage to my cells - the tricky part will be surviving oxygen deprivation - which is why my trip will be short to say the least. Without oxygen to vibrate my being, something I do not need help with, I will cease to exist here, and yet it will appear as though I never left. I will vibrate, but remain still. By definition, I will travel interdimensionally. In those few minutes I will jump from here to there and hopefully back again.

   I let out a puff of air which frosted the glass in front of me. Tomorrow I would leave this world for another and become a bigger part, of not only this universe, but hopefully the next.

Multiverse

   I lumbered up the steps of the oak porch, waddling back and forth, my pregnant belly threatening to tip me over like some damned teapot. I put my brass key in the lock and set the tumblers free - the door swung open with a signature squeal, announcing my presence. My husband looked up from the magazine he was reading, and smiled.

   "Hey babe" I said cheerily while dumping the insane amount of baby clothes I had just purchased on the leather ottoman beside him.

   "This baby's wardrobe is better than mine..." he teased.

   "That's not difficult" I replied with a wink, "Your sense of style suggests you're a colorblind hobo".

   He laughed out loud and the sound of his soft melodious voice immediately set me at ease. I plopped myself next to him and snatched the magazine from his hands. I glanced at it quickly and rolled my eyes.

    "I thought I married someone interesting!"

     "What? You're not a fan of science?"

     "Not when we could be discussing baby fashion"

      He leaned over suddenly making choking sounds and feigned noises of disgust while snatching back his reading material.

      "Please, string theory is much more interesting than what diapers you purchased or what burp cloths you got on sale"

      "Well I think the diapers and burp cloths will be more relevant to your life than any theory some lonely physicists concocts"

      "I think I'll need proof of that" he stated.

      "Well I'll let you change the first diaper" I replied with a wink. I somehow managed to pull myself upright and started to sift through everything I had purchased. I removed all the tags in preparation for washing  when my husband suddenly took my hand in his, startling me from my fantasies of motherhood.

        "Uh oh, I know that look!"

        "You do?" His eyebrow raised and I pushed it back down with my finger.

        "Yes" I said with a smile, "What's wrong?"

        I studied his body language as he slowly leaned back in our well used microfiber sectional. He then shifted and leaned forward again. I blinked in anticipation as he cleared his throat and once more settled into the sofa.

        "Before the baby comes, Drew!"

         "Right, sorry Carly. I was thinking that I might change careers..."


                          *                                                   *                                            *

I could see the room as though it were yesterday; large picture windows cast all the hues of the sun into my small but cozy living room area; and the dining room backed into glass french doors that led onto a beautiful wrap around deck. The dark hardwood floors, soon to be marred by the merciless acts of a rambunctious toddler, added to the mystique of the home's heritage based architecture. The walls were painted an off white,and proudly displayed pictures of our wedding day and soon to be son. Our kitchens red stained oak cabinets and floating island was set upon natural stone tile. All of the finishing touches were perfect for us. It had been the house of our dreams, only affordable because of the drastic down turn in the housing market.

I traced the lines I had scratched into my jail cell wall, 32 tiny scratches, representing each year of my life before it had ended so abruptly.

I thought back to the conversation my husband and I had carried on that day and wondered what might have been different...if only I had supported him in his desire to switch careers. Would we have been diverted from the hell we found ourselves in less than a decade later? If Marie, my inquiring roomate, is right that multiverses exist, then is there another me out there? A happier me? A me with a child who lived and a husband I never stopped loving? What if...


                        *                                                        *                                                *

      My first instinct was to denounce this suggestion out of hand, but a look in his eye stopped me in my tracks.

      "Alright, why now?"

      " I think the economy is possibly heading for a recession. I don't want to be an investment banker if that happens. I love you, and our baby, and I want not just a good life, but a stable one".

      "So what's the alternative?"

      "Cop"

     I almost laughed out loud because the idea of my investment banker husband taking on such a job was..well quite frankly... laughable. Instead I decided that perhaps the best way to serve my husband at this time would be to indulge his little fantasy.

        "Well, if that's what you want..." I said noncommitally
       
        "Really?!" He replied with a sigh of relief, "You won't regret this, I promise"
 
         He swept me up in a hug and swung me around our living room while grunting like an Olympic hammer thrower.

         "Phew" he proclaimed loudly and I responded with a playful punch on the arm.

         "Shut up!" I replied with a chuckle. I shook my head and couldn't help imagining what it would be like to be married to a man in uniform. Maybe if wouldn't be all bad...


        I fingered the photograph of my husband's police graduation and felt the same pride I did the day it was taken. Ten wonderful years later my husband turned out to be eerily correct and thanks to his new career path we weathered the economic storm better than most folks. Our beautiful green eyed boy, Benjamin, had also gained a sister in this time, something that could not have happened if Drew had lost his job. I couldn't help but smile at my good fortune. How can some people not believe in fate? Everything I have is a testament to it.

        "Mom!" Ben screamed at me from the top of the stairs shattering my train of thought into tiny  unrecognizable pieces, "Do you know where my favourite shirt is?"

        "Nope, because I haven't a clue as to what your favourite shirt looks like!"

        "It's the green one, with the skateboard on it"

        "Did you check your bedroom floor?" I screamed back at him.

        "Why would it be - OH - Here it is! Thanks mom." I heard him slam his door as he settled in for a weekend of video games and movies with his sister and their friends.

        The smile on my face faded as reality began to sink in. I gathered up the photo albums and slid a few meaningful pictures into the inside lining of my purse. I could only hope my belongings would not be searched thoroughly. I sighed and looked around one last time. I had everything I could ever want and hope for, and I was about to leave it all behind. Every second I stood undecided in my kitchen was a second that put my family, and all their lives at risk. I placed the note on the counter, a pathetic excuse of my need for space and absence, and stepped outside where a black, non descript car was idling in my driveway.

       "Hello Carly" the driver said as I settled into the passenger seat, "did you say goodbye?"

       "In my own way, yes."

       "Good, let's get back to the lab, there's no telling what kind of damage has been done to your DNA while you foolishly wasted time with trivialities".

       "My family is not trivial" I said between clenched teeth.

       "Of course not..." he murmured as he pulled away from the curb and from the life I had always known, always wanted, and would always desperately miss.





To be continued....

       
       

Reality

    I traced the lines scratched into the grey, brick wall and wished to add just one more. Another year, some more time, a moment even with the green eyed boy I had fallen deeply, and devoutly in love with. The mattress underneath my diminutive frame squealed in protest as I rolled onto my back. I closed my eyes and could almost make out the faint edges of his face, the smell of his hair, the crooked toothed smile which had always captured my heart. But it had been five long years since the last time I held him, and where at one time I was sure I could never forget him, now it seemed as though my memories were fading just as easily as his life had.

     I bit my bottom lip and stifled the tears that threatened to overtake me. It had been so long since any salted droplet had marred my face, but the knowledge that even my memories of him were evaporating was just too much to bear; the final cruel twist of fate in the finality of his death.

     "You alright, Carly?" my bunk mate asked. I ignored her as I have done since our first brief acquaintance.

     Despite all her efforts I had chosen to live life with as few connections as possible. In prison, those who stuck to themselves were apparently easy pickings, but no one had ever bothered to raise a hand to me, or even a voice. Marie had once said it was my eyes that frightened people. She said they weren't haunted, or even cold, they were merely empty. My lack of concern over life or death, mine or anyone elses confuses even the most hardened of criminals and compels them to give me a wide berth.

     "Carly? she inquired again while peeking at me from her position on the top bunk.

     "I'm fine"

     "Looks like you're crying" she replied in amazement.

     "So what if I am?" I retorted sharply.

     "It's no business of mine, I just never saw you cry before is all".

     "Well good for you" I muttered while focusing on her raven black hair which had created a curtain over us. I glanced quickly at her face and found that her honey brown eyes sought mine.

    "No girl", she said with a sigh, "Good for you". I was surprised by the genuine tone of her voice. I had expected another remark dripping with sarcasm. Instead this person I had barely spoken to in five years showed me a kindness I had forgotten existed.

    Before I could stop myself the words poured forth like a river that finally breached it's damn, and the onslaught of syllables seemed endless. My story though, was just as chilling as it had always been, and as I spoke I felt the familiar cool detachment I had retained all these years take over as I described in detail the death of my son, and the man I had subsequently brutally murdered.


                                 *                                              *                                           *

       I stood in the downpour anxiously waiting for their vehicle to turn the corner. My blond hair clung to my face even as the wind threatened to blow me over. I glanced at the sky and the clouds seemed to roll overhead, like the meanest waves on a merciless ocean, they swept away any light the moon might have created.

        I could feel my stomach churning just as the clouds were and I knew something was terribly wrong. They were half hour late, not so long when you considered that Andrew was always on his own time, but some terrible knowledge; some strike of motherly intuition as quick and as deadly as the lightening that flashed over head, urged me forward.

        I headed for my son's father's house. Jogging at first, refusing to let panic overtake me, but as the thunder blasted overhead I felt dizzy with a fear I hadn't known existed. I began to sprint, pounding the pavement with my white Nike runners which were now completely ruined by the deluge that had become my city. With each quickened step, I could feel my heart racing; pounding out the rhythm my feet created on the blackened asphalt.   

        The scene on the road before me stopped me so abruptly that I stumbled and fell into an ever widening puddle. My hands burned from road rash, my body shook as the freezing water claimed my rigid torso. Although all these sensations registered within me, I had gone completely numb. I lay still on my belly, eyes fixated on the twisted metal of, at one time, had been our car; and the broken body displayed before me. He must have been ejected from the vehicle. But it was his eyes that struck a cord so deep within me that the screams the night claimed as their own I hadn't immediately recognized to be my own. His gorgeous almond shaped eyes, the most brilliant green, were dulled by the putrid whisper of Death. My gorgeous son, my one reason for breathing deeply the wonders of this world, seemed to gaze at me with a saddened expression, as though he knew I would find him here like this, as though he knew the breaking of my heart would be heard out loud if not for the incessant thunder of this damned summer storm.

       I began to slither towards him, this beautiful gift I had been given and which had now been shattered and ripped from this earth. Arm over arm I made my way to him. Finally I was beside him, running my fingers through his wavy brown hair, whispering my love, my sorry's, my god damned platitudes.

       I glanced up as Andrew stumbled from the vehicle. He weaved a path towards me, rocking from side to side. He collapsed beside me, head within his hand, staring down at our son. I was repelled by him, this man, this careless son of a bitch who had accidentally snuffed out the life of his very own child. The wind ripped at his person and carried to me the reason for this tragedy. He reeked of alcohol. His sobriety of two years had cracked under god knows what pressure and torn from him his self respect, and now, the life of our son.

       Rage let loose within me, primal and eager. I jumped him, knocking him on his back, he didn't fight back, he had nothing left, neither one of us did.


                                        *                                             *                                       *

      I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. I licked my lips and continued.

      "Police were the first on the scene. They came upon me, beating his head into the pavement. It took three men to pull me off of him, my rage, my blinding agony, created a strength in my that can only be described as super human...or perhaps just... inhuman".

      "I'd have killed him too" Marie said simply.

      "I was wrong to do what I did, not because he didn't deserve it, but because now another mother is suffering just the way I did - do. Andrew wasn't a bad person, just a weak one, pathetic really..."

      The words I had never expected to hear myself say left me stunned. I had once believed I hadn't felt any regret for what I did on that horrendous, and destructive night.

       "You once told me that people feared me because my eyes held an emptiness they couldn't understand. But that emptiness is merely defeat. In one terrible night I lost my only child, and became a person I never thought I was capable of even contemplating. I don't have my child, and I don't have a self to return to. In a very real way, I died that night too."

       Marie pulled herself back up onto her bed and spoke aloud the thought that kept her up at night, if choices she had made were different, if the path she had taken had not led her here, "I was watching TV a couple weeks ago with some of the girls, a program about the idea of multiple universes. It got me thinking, that I would like it to be true. That somewhere out there is a me who never ended up here, talking to you - no offence- maybe a rich me, or a happy me, but I'd settle for just different, really"

      "That does sound nice" I responded while contemplating what I would change if I could.


                                                                   What if...











Stay tuned for another story venturing into the possibility that there are endless possibilities...