Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay by Abra Ebner
“Jordan honey, are you all right?”
It was the same line she had said in the past, except this time it was because of the bike accident and not the dog. A cold chill rolled over me as I turned and swallowed, my mother rushing toward me, plucking me from the ground like a sack of potatoes. I wrapped my arms around her neck and began to cry, finding that I missed her more than I ever thought I would.
“Mom…” I cried, “Mommy.”
“Shhhh….”
She rubbed the back of my head, flattening my soft hair behind my giant ears. I reveled in the feeling, breathing deep and taking in her familiar scent. She rocked me from side to side and I shut my eyes as hard as I could, drinking in the moment but finding it too hard to handle much longer.
“Mommy.” I paused as I snuggled closer to her ear. “You deserve better,” I whispered.
She pulled me away from her, shock coating her face as her grasp cut into my arms with desperation. “What did you say?” Her brows were pressed together, her brown eyes storming under her thick lashes.
“You deserve better. Mommy. I want to leave.” I was terrified to say it but this was my chance.
She pressed her lips together as she fought to blink back tears. “Okay.” She began to nod as she looked toward the sky, then back at me. She opened her mouth to speak again, her lip shaking. “Okay honey, we’ll leave.”
I leaned against her chest one last time, squeezing her as hard as I could. It was then that I realized I had done more than save Rover. I had saved her. I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth, trying to get back to age six and wondering what I would find.
I felt my blood begin to cook, my stomach now sour and my head sweating. The ground began to shake as I felt the familiar pull on my sides, taking me back to where I came from, back to six.
Formulated from the journals
of Patient #32185
July 6th, 1988
3:56 p.m.
I crashed onto the grass from what felt like twenty feet, the malleable ground around me molding into the shape of my body. The breath was knocked from my lungs and I gasped for air, my skin tight as though stretching from a youthful age four to now. As I lay there lifeless on a bed of grass, I was at least relieved that it wasn’t gravel and pavement this time, counting my blessings. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, not willing to open them to the fact that she was now gone.
I let a painful breath escape my lips, my whole body covered in a cold sweat as I shuddered. I could feel the afternoon sun fill the air with warmth, and I waited for my heart to slow. At this point, breathing was my only goal, nothing else mattered.
“What are you doing?” A shadow fell over me as a young voice rang in my ears.
I jumped, lifting my head from the cool grass and shielding my eyes from the sun. A young girl of about four loomed over me, her blue shirt catching the wind and rippling around her waist.
“Hi,” she spoke again, smiling.
“Er…hi,” I replied. I lifted myself from the ground with a wince, brushing the grass from my pants and seeing that they had now dried from the popsicle incident of before, a moment that now felt had happened hours ago.
“What are you doing?” she asked again, eyeing the dented grass where I had laid. Her auburn hair blew in the wind, and she brushed it from her face, revealing her bright green eyes. I swallowed hard, finding those eyes easy to remember, my mind racing in disbelief.
“If we’re meant to meet…” I whispered under my breath, repeating the words the woman from the bus had told me. She was right; if we were meant to know each other, then surely we would meet again. I just didn’t figure it would happen so soon. “I uh…” I stuttered, my eyes becoming wide as I realized who she was. “Hi.”
She giggled and clasped her hands behind her back, twisting in her spot as her skirt fanned out around her. “You’re funny.” She crinkled her nose and tilted her head, “You remind me of someone.” She was missing a front tooth, and I found it cute.
I laughed. “Really?”
I looked at the palms of my hands as I squeezed them into fists, finding they felt strange and seeing that I now had two large scars on the palms of each. I flipped my palm over, the scar from the dog now gone without a single trace, as though it had never happened, though the memory of both incidents still remained. My eyes lit up then.
“So what’s your name?” I was so eager to know that I spit the words all over her. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to care, reacting with a giggle as she wiped it from her face.
“I’m Kenzie,” She announced, lifting her nose in the air.
Her face was perfect, like an angel, and I couldn’t help but smile. This girl did not yet know the sorrowful future that was ahead of her, and her eyes were still full of life.
“I’m Jordan,” I replied, stretching my hand toward her for a shake.
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “How do I know you don’t have cooties?”
I let a half smile cross my face, thinking that cooties hardly mattered considering that fact I had already spit words all over her. “As far as I know I’ve never had friends, so I’m pretty sure I never caught any.”
I looked across the park toward my lane, noticing the moving truck at the house down the street from where I lived. I had never seen Kenzie before today, and I figured the moving truck involved her somehow. Was that a coincidence? I shook my head and refocused.
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
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?
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.