Jump City: Apprentice Read online

  “Your voice.”

  “Well, I am rather different at present. Different from the way you may remember me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “A long story— for another time, I think. It’s rather early here… the middle of the night, one might say.”

  “Oh sorry… and by here, you mean where exactly?”

  “I’m in Sand City of course.” Fynn paused.

  “Um… How’s Anika?” I asked.

  There was a long silence. “Anika?” Fynn repeated as a question. “You don’t recall? She’s still in prison.”

  “Prison?”

  “You don’t remember much, do you?”

  “No… I guess not.”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “I’m not completely sure,” I admitted.

  “Is there a fire?”

  “No.”

  “An earthquake?”

  “Not that I know of…”

  “What then?” he asked.

  “Um, I don’t know… something’s wrong. I feel unsettled.”

  The line went quiet and I wondered if Fynn had hung up or not. Finally he asked, “Tell me, what’s the last thing you remember?” I could hear deliberate patience in his voice.

  “Um… I was, I was… I’m not sure.” I desperately tried to bring to mind my last clear memory. “There was a little kid, he seemed a lot like me… we were talking… And I was in Athens… Greece. Now I’m here… wherever this is… and I’m not a kid. I’m some fat middle-aged guy in his forties.” I paused again. “Do you know where I am?”

  “Seattle, if I recollect correctly,” Fynn said.

  “When is it?”

  “At present, twenty twenty-nine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “I traveled to the future.”

  “Most likely.”

  “No, I mean I soft jumped here. I entered into a future self.”

  “Such is not possible. It’s an inviolate law.”

  “Well— here I am.”

  “What are you wearing?” Fynn asked.

  “What?” I was startled by his seemingly mundane question. “Is it important?”

  “Of course.”

  “Um…” I looked down at my attire. “Pajamas, a leather jacket… hmm, and wet socks.”

  “Wet socks, you say? What were you wearing while in Athens?”

  I thought for a second. “Pants and sneakers, or maybe sandals and shorts.”

  “Well, there you have it.”

  He was right of course, but it still seemed beyond my understanding.

  “It sounds like you are a simple impostor,” Fynn said.

  “Meaning?”

  “You are posing as your present self.”

  “Why didn’t I end up, you know, miles away or something?”

  “It’s merely a soft jump.”

  “But…”

  “You might think of it like an aircraft stalling at altitude, or a rubber band snapping back. You’ve jumped to a future and then directly back to a past that resonates; you slipped back to an old familiar self. I do this all the time. It’s quite convenient.”

  “Why are my feet wet then?”

  “I have no good explanation for this.” Fynn paused again. “Perhaps you went outside?”

  Eventually, reluctantly, dimly, I recalled being out in the dark, in the woods, in the perpetual rain, like a rainforest only cold. But had no wish to mention any of this to Fynn.

  “Do you recall how you traveled to Athens?” he continued.

  “Funny, I can’t remember that at all.”

  “When was it?”

  “July nineteenth, nineteen sixty-nine.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “It was the day before we landed on the moon.”

  “And this is significant, do you think?”

  “No, not really…” I tried to concentrate. “But it doesn’t make any sense at all. How could I be twelve in nineteen sixty-nine… and thirty in two thousand thirteen, and however old I am today? I should be way older or something.”

  “I must say from my standpoint it makes even less sense. How is it that you traveled back and met your doppelgänger?”

  “My doppelgänger?”

  “How else would you describe meeting a younger version of yourself?”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in that.”

  “I’ve yet to meet my own doppelgänger, but I cannot dismiss the idea entirely.”

  “Is that what you think happened?”

  “It seems so.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Do?” he repeated.

  It was a stupid question, I admit, and I had no reply.

  “It’s probably best that you leave,” Fynn said.

  “Leave? What do you mean?”

  “This place where you are… You should jump to somewhere else, to a younger self perhaps.”

  “How?”

  “First, I need to confirm where you are. Have a look out your window. What do you see?”

  “Not much. A street, buildings, like brownstones, a neighborhood.”

  “Is there a mountain in the distance? Probably to your east…”

  “Not that I can see, but I do have a vague recollection of mountains with snow on them… Am I still in Colorado?”

  “Colorado? What makes you say that?”

  “I don’t know… I seem to remember something about it.”

  There was a long pause from Fynn’s side. “What area code do you call from?” he asked.

  “Not sure.”

  “My telephone says you are in Oregon, nine seven one.”

  “Oregon?”

  “Portland,” Fynn said.

  “And?”

  “Well, last I remember, you were in Seattle, Washington.”

  “Does it make a difference?”

  “Perhaps not… Tell me Patrick, have you been traveling on your own again?”

  “Traveling? I don’t think so.”

  “Dreaming then?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I believe you should leave at once.”

  “Where to?”

  “Back to Sand City.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I need your help on something.”

  “I can’t come.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have two kids now. I’m supposed to pick them up in an hour. I can’t just leave...”

  My comment was greeted by another long silence. Fynn seemed to be choosing his words. “Patrick, you must not get seduced by this particular present.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You must not get mired where you are. You can always return if you must, but I need you now.”

  “I can’t just go…” I stammered.

  “I could insist.”

  “What happens if I leave this place?”

  “You can never know.”

  “If I don’t keep living here, go pick up my kids... what happens to them?” I paused to try to make sense of it and fought back a profound sadness. “Is there another timeline? A place where things just go on as normal?”

  “You can only exist in one place, and that place is the present. When you depart, you will leave this life behind.”

  “I’m not sure I can… or that I want to.”

  “You must,” Fynn persisted. “This is not the first time you’ve become stuck where you are now.”

  “What do you mean, stuck?”

  “There is some safety in this particular present of yours, some continuity. I suppose you find it comforting in some way.”

  “But I remember so little about it.”

  “If you think harder, you may remember more— and there lies the danger,” Fynn said.

  “What danger?”

  “You may be there out of remorse.”

  “What are you talking about, Fynn?”

  “Well, Patrick, it seems to be a place to which you return t
o quite often.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It is so… that’s all,” Fynn replied and paused. “Perhaps you are wracked with misplaced guilt.”

  “Guilt?” I asked, not understanding what he was trying to say.

  “Yes… I don’t think you’ve ever gotten over the events in Colorado.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You still feel the need to save your friends, Cindy and Andrew.”

  I stopped to think about what Fynn was saying. These names were familiar, but I couldn’t quite recall their connection to me. “Save them from what?” I asked tentatively.

  Fynn changed the subject. “You don’t remember your astronomy, I suppose?”

  “A little…”

  “Do you have a device, like a compass or a watch? It was a gift from Edmund.”

  “Who?”

  “It might be somewhere in your apartment.”

  “I don’t see it.”

  “Never mind then… Do you have a tablet instead, some kind of digital pad nearby?”

  “Yes.” There was one on the coffee table in front of me and it was extremely thin and flexible. I picked it up and turned it on.

  “Well then, it must have the SkyMap on it, eh?”

  Sure enough, Fynn was right. That was listed as my top app. The screen showed me my exact position on the ground and displayed all the stars in the sky.

  “Can you read me the coordinates on your screen?”

  “Um, there’s one other thing…”

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s something wrong here.”

  “Yes?”

  “The world is upside down.”

  “Are you speaking metaphorically?”

  “No… on TV… and on the internet.”

  “How do you mean, upside down?”

  “All the maps… Antarctica is on the top… Greenland, Europe, all the rest, is on the bottom.”

  “Ah…” Fynn said and chuckled, “such happens more often than you might imagine.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Not at all. We will assume the entire cosmos is also upside down for the moment… though which is called north and which is south maybe entirely irrelevant.” Fynn paused. “Tell me what you see on the screen now.”

  “It’s calibrating…”

  “I can instruct you. Hold it up above your head… You’ve found the sun? Alright then, move to the left, now down, further, below the horizon… Do you see it? Hydra’s Tail? You must now jump in the opposite direction.”

  “From my window?”

  “It’s best you go outside.”

  “Right… there’s a park nearby with a statue and a high stone wall. Seems pretty quiet… I could jump from there.”

  “Good, call me again when you are ready. I believe I can help you travel back with some precision.”

  ***

  The park was empty enough to save me from any potential embarrassment. It was still raining, though not as dark as before. A stray jogger or two meandered past. I tried to figure out what day it was, or at least what season. The oddest memory slipped by: It was if all the crickets had disappeared overnight. I could recall their loud chirping and yet now, all was quiet… as if they had been eaten in a single sitting. I climbed up onto a stone wall and faced the exact direction Fynn had indicated. A large flock of grackles rose chaotically into the air, disturbed by something. I looked to see what that might be but noticed nothing except the usual ghosts flittering to and fro in the corner of my eye.

  I took a breath and fought back a deep sadness. I jumped. And if there was any time between here and the next place, I laughed to myself as well. Oblivion was becoming familiar. There was no pain, just the taste of peppermint in my mouth.

  * * *

  chapter seventeen

  present tense

  I looked around to see where I was. Sitting in a dark room, I saw a light from somewhere but it barely illuminated anything significant. There’s a table, I can see two glasses, both of them empty. I heard a soft rumbling in the distance. It was probably the sound of surf pounding a shoreline. I felt a breeze across my face and then picked up a saltwater taffy from a bowl. It was not my first. I saw an empty wrapper and could still taste peppermint.

  “So this is it,” I said to Fynn, as if we were just continuing our last conversation.

  “What?” He smiled brightly.

  “Being a time traveler.”

  “I can guess you’ve taken your first steps certainly, there’s much more to come.”

  “Like?”

  “Nothing I could say could possibly prepare you. These are things you can only experience for yourself.”

  “Figures…” I muttered.

  “Are you alright?” Fynn asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You did just jump here— yes?”

  “What?”

  “Just now, did you travel from somewhere else?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The expression on your face. You look quite startled, bewildered even.”

  “Yes, I think I may have.”

  “From where? Do you recall?”

  “We were just on the phone a second ago.”

  “Were we?”

  “You were telling me how to get back.”

  “Was I?”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  “No, not at all.” Fynn scrutinized me. “When was this?”

  “Just a moment or so ago.”

  “Yes, but where were you when you called?”

  “Seattle, no, Portland… Okay, not really sure about where…”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “When was it?”

  “Oh…” I said and hesitated. “The future, I guess.”

  “I see.”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  “How can I recall something that has not yet happened?”

  “But I remember…”

  “Of course, this is your one timeline, the one you experience, but not necessarily mine.”

  “But you were there, on the telephone.”

  “Only from your point of view. For me, that is still the future.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I would have to travel to that future and then back again for it to be a memory.”

  “Oh.” I tried to make sense of what Fynn had just said. “I do remember something else you told me… Anika was in prison.”

  “That’s rather alarming. When was this?”

  “Just a minute ago.”

  “Do you know what year that was?”

  “Um…yeah, I saw it on TV… twenty twenty-nine, I’m pretty sure.”

  “Not much to be done at this point,” Fynn said, though a dark expression crossed his face for a moment. He lapsed into silence.

  “Where are we now?” I asked.

  “My living room… in Sand City.”

  “When is it?”

  “Monday.”

  I laughed. Somehow that didn’t mean much to me.

  Fynn sat back in his chair. “From my perspective, we met this morning for breakfast at the Depot Cafe. I had scrambled eggs and bacon. Anika was there, and Lorraine… you made them both smile as usual.”

  “Where is your wife now?”

  “Out with her sister, Elaine.”

  “And Anika?”

  “She has a class tonight,”

  “What, like yoga?”

  “No, at the college in Fairhaven.” Fynn paused. “Is there something amiss?”

  “No, no, not at all, actually it seems pretty normal.” A different set of memories filled my mind. “What else happened today?”

  “I spent the rest of the morning puttering in the garden and took a nap in the afternoon.”

  “That’s it?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “What about Lucinda?”

  “Lucinda. You mean to say Eleanor’s daughter?”
<
br />   “Yes.”

  “A tragedy for Mrs Woods, her daughter dying so many years ago…”

  “Not her body in the middle of the salt marsh? Or appearing at the Policeman’s Ball?”

  “Of course we both recall these events, but they are not at all relevant to anyone else, Chief Durbin for instance.” Fynn eyed me. “What is the sudden interest in the hapless Lucinda?”

  “No body dragged from the canal?”

  “What canal do you speak of?”

  “You mentioned all this to me at the bar, in Colorado.”

  “Colorado?” Fynn asked. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t recall this.”

  “How can you not remember?”

  “Again, it is something that has not yet happened, at least for me.”

  “Right…”

  “I am most curious though,” Fynn said.

  “About Colorado?”

  “You mentioned it out of the blue. Perhaps everything is on track and you will move there next week as planned?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Have you packed yet?”

  “Packed?”

  “For Colorado.”

  “No.”

  “Will we have to cancel the surprise party?”

  “What?”

  “Your going-away party on Friday. Anika has arranged it all. Everyone you know will be there… even dear Eleanor.”

  “Eleanor… How is she?”

  “As well as can be expected.”

  I sighed and reached for another saltwater taffy. “I’ve already been to Colorado— at least I’m pretty sure I have.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Um… it’s more like a dream than anything… I was working at a newspaper.”

  “The Boulder Broadsheet,” Fynn said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “This is your new assignment, is it not?”

  “Well, yeah… if I actually do move there. I’m not sure I want to live through it again.”

  “I doubt it would unfold in exactly the same way.”

  I glanced at Fynn, feeling even more confused.

  “What else comes to mind?” he persisted.

  “You were there.”

  “As I’ve said, I do not remember.”

  “Well… there was a terrible crime, a big investigation, a serial killer…” I struggled to recall. “I lost two good friends. I think they were killed— Cindy and Andy… There was a guy named Morris, a cop—”

  “Morris, you say? Of course I do know a Jamal Morris. We were good friends… oh, twenty years ago or more. We worked on a case together, I believe it was near Philadelphia.”