An Infinite Number of Parallel Universes (19 page)

“What?”

“You've got a penis. Not one of those evil hellmouths. Seriously, man. I mean it. I'm going gay. Fuck girls. Fuck Sarah.” He raises his cup for a toast. “To penis!”

“You should go to bed.”

“To penis!” Sam says, more loudly this time, cup still raised.

“Sam—”

“Say it, motherfucker—to penis!”

Dante sighs, and raises his cup. “To penis.”

“Louder.”

“No.”

“
To penis!”
Sam shouts.

“Here, here!” someone calls from the lake.

“I'm not yelling it like that,” says Dante.

“I'm gonna keep screaming it till you do.
To penis! To penis! Tooooo peeeeeenissss!
”

“
To penis!
” Dante finally yells, unable to resist smiling as he does so.

Sam smiles and lifts his cup even higher. “
And balls!
”

“
And balls!
” Dante echoes, laughing.

Sam smiles and knocks his cup against Dante's. Dante uses the opportunity to ease Sam's cup out of his hands before he can bring it back to his lips.

Sam lets it happen and then laughs into a sigh. “But you know what, big guy? I don't know if I could really do it. Be gay, you know.” He makes a face. Drops his voice to a whisper, “Can you imagine putting it down there? Like, it doesn't bother me at all that people are gay. I mean, do whatever the fuck you want, ya know? Who are we to tell anyone what to do with their junk? Just don't hurt anyone.”

“I guess,” Dante says.

“Nobody can tell someone else who to bang or not bang.”

Dante grabs a piece of firewood from a nearby pile and places it into the flames, sending a puff of embers drifting into the air. They burn out, and he relaxes a bit as he senses Sam's energy flagging.

“Good talk. I'm gonna go throw up now,” Sam says, rising from his chair unsteadily.

“Here, let me—”

“You gotta stop being so fucking nice all the time,” Sam says, pointing a wavering finger. “I mean. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate your concern and all. Like I said, I love you for it, big guy. But I'm not too bad. Just had one too many. So sometimes you need to help, and sometimes you just need to let people vomit by themselves in a corner.”

“Is this one of those times?”

“It is.”

And with that, Sam stumbles away, leaving Dante by the fire. Dante listens to Sam's progress through the trees, resisting the urge to help. He relaxes once he hears the house door creak open and then slam shut.

He sits by himself for a moment longer, considering whether he should head into the house and go to sleep, wait for the others to return, or join them at the lake.

Finishing his beer, he stands and decides to leave the warmth and light. He follows the voices down a narrow dirt path through the darkness and trees to the dock. Lit by the moonlight, he sees six heads bobbing in the calm, dark water.

“All right! It's Heavy D,” Archie says. “Jump in, man.”

“Yeah, jump in, Dante,” Mari encourages.

Clark starts chanting, “
Jump in! Jump in!
” The others pick it up, their voices loud enough to wake everyone around the lake.

Dante shakes his head and sits at the end of the dock next to several small piles of clothing. He removes his shoes and socks, and dips his feet into the water. It is warmer than the air.

“Boo,” Archie says.

“Hey,” Mari says, “leave him alone. He'll get in when he's ready.”

She then jumps on Archie's back and tries to push his head into the lake. The struggle takes them both underwater. They break the surface a moment later, dripping and sputtering and laughing.

“I've got something to tell you guys,” Dante says, eyes fixed on moonlight glimmering in the water's surface.

“What's that?” Archie asks.

Dante hesitates. He doesn't know why. If there's anywhere he can say it, it would be here, tonight. Instead, he lifts his feet out of the water. “Um . . . it's Sam.”

“He all right?” Zaius asks while treading water next to Lamont. “He seemed to be hitting the bottom of that cup pretty hard. I should probably be a responsible adult and cut him off.”

“Oh, he'll be fine. Went inside to get some of it out of his system and then sleep. Just thought you should know.”

Zaius nods. “Make sure you keep an eye on that one, alright? He seems fairly bent on self-destruction.”

“What's his deal?” Clark asks, arms clinging around Adam's wide neck.

“What do you mean?” Dante asks.

“He's kind of a dick is what I mean.”

“Oh, that. Long story.”

“No it's not,” Archie interjects. “He's just sad. He got dumped. We're on our way to help him win her back. The end.” He turns to Mari. “We just should just get him a t-shirt that explains that.”

“So do you think it's going to work?” Clark asks. “Not the t-shirt. The girlfriend thing.”

Dante and Archie and Mari exchange skeptical glances. Nobody speaks, and their silence is enough of an answer.

Zaius asks, “So why go with him?”

“He's one of us,” Archie says.

“Well,” Zaius says, “in my opinion, there are only two kinds of travelers: those who are going somewhere, and those who are running from something. Sam is clearly the former. Which kind are you guys?”

“We,” says Mari, “are here.”

Archie nods, head bobbing just above the water's surface. “We are here. Hundreds of miles from home, under a sky full of stars, going for a midnight swim with four gay dudes—no offense.”

“None taken. We are, in fact, gay dudes,” Lamont says.

Then Mari says, “The world is so much bigger than it was on Friday.”

Lamont nods. “Travelling helps you see that. The world is bigger than you think.”

“You know what else is bigger than you think?” Archie asks, grinning.

Everyone groans and Mari swats at him. Archie blocks it and then wraps up her arms in a bear hug to prevent another attack.

“Think it's about time we head in, guys. What do you say?” Zaius asks.

“I'm actually pretty aw—” Lamont starts to say but is interrupted by Zaius's elbow. “Oh, actually . . .” Lamont yawns. “Yup, time to hit the hay.”

Zaius shoots a meaningful look at Clark and Adam, and they echo Lamont's sentiment. All four swim to the dock and pull themselves out of the water. Dante averts his eyes, but the moonlight helps him realize that they're all nude.

As they gather their bundles of clothes, dripping onto the dock, Archie and Mari start swimming back in. But Zaius holds up a hand. “You two should stay out here for a little longer. Let yourselves in the house whenever you're ready. The couch in the sunroom is all yours.”

Archie looks to Mari and then back to Zaius. “Cool. Um . . . are there, like, extra blankets so I can sleep on the floor?”

“Nope,” Zaius says and winks at Mari. “You'll have to share. Come on, Dante. Let us retire to the smoking room.”

Dante looks at Mari and Archie, who shrug. He lets Zaius lead him away.

“Just watch out for the bats,” Lamont offers over his shoulder.

A few moments later, Mari and Archie find themselves completely alone. An immense hush settles over the lake. They breathe in the silence, feeling as though they've outlasted the insects and animals. The world is vast, and it is theirs. Religions have been founded upon less.

“They seem happy,” Archie says, breaking the spell.

“Who? Zaius and the others?” Mari asks.

“Yeah, them.”

“Why wouldn't they be?”

Archie lets himself sink a little, until his chin touches the water. He thinks of his own father. “I don't know . . . but, hey, I was right.”

“About what?”

“I told you we wouldn't be murdered.”

Mari splashes a bit of water at him. “Not yet. But we are swimming in the middle of the night by ourselves—isn't that, like, the opening of every horror movie ever? Let's hold off on celebrating our survival.”

“No,” Archie says, sending a return splash her way. “As long as we're alive, let's never stop celebrating the simple fact that we are alive.”

Mari laughs and then stares at Archie, wondering if he somehow knows about her mom. Deciding his words were coincidence, she drifts away with a lazy backstroke. “So is that your grand epiphany?”

“Is that what?” he asks, closing the distance between them.

“You should be freaking out about missing school. Realistically, we're probably not going to make it back until next week. Aren't you concerned about your GPA? Your chance to reign as valedictorian at your new school?”

“Am I really that guy?”

“You were. But something's different.” She lets her legs sink and starts treading water. “
As long as we're alive, let's never stop celebrating the simple fact that we are alive,
” she quotes, mocking Archie's voice.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

“They're your words.”

He laughs, caught in so many ways. “Don't make fun of me. Just seemed like the right thing to say at the time.”

“It was.”

They let the quietness rebuild.

Mari drifts toward Archie until she is floating in front of him. She puts her arms around his neck, and their bodies press together as they tread water. Under the surface, Archie touches one hand to her hips. She does not pull away.

They touch foreheads. Their eyeglasses clink together. Mari takes Archie's hand and they paddle back to the small pier. She removes both their glasses and places them on the dock. Pulling Archie closer, she sits on the lowest step of the ladder so that they can hold each other in the water without sinking to the bottom of the lake.

“I'm sorry about the other night,” he says. “Whatever I did to ruin it, I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” Mari says in a whisper. “You just said something that made me remember something bad.”

“What?”

Mari hesitates. She looks up at the full moon. Finds the face in it. “My mom has cancer . . .”

Archie drifts closer to her. “Mari . . . I'm so sorry . . . is it bad?”

“Is cancer ever good?” Mari asks.

“That was stupid . . . I'm sorry . . .” Archie says.

“Stop apologizing. It's okay. I mean, it will be okay. Hopefully.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now. It's enough just to know that you know.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” he asks.

She shrugs. “We never really talk about that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah,” Archie says. “We'll start, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Archie?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Am I a terrible person?” she asks in a whisper again.

“Why would you ask that?” he asks, also whispering.

“Because I'm here. Doing this.”

“You're helping a friend,” he says.

“Maybe. Or maybe I'm just avoiding her. Avoiding what she wants me to do . . . when she might be dying.”

“What does she want you to do?” Archie asks.

She lowers her eyes. Sidles closer. “It's not important right now.”

Archie chooses his next words carefully. “You're not a terrible person, Mari. You're the most amazing person I know. And I don't think your mom would want you to stop living life. In fact, just the opposite.”

She nods. “You're probably right.”

Archie leans in to kiss her, but she pulls away.

“If we do this, it will change everything,” she says.

“I hope so,” he says.

She looks at him. He looks at her. Without their glasses, they are fuzzy to each other. That somehow makes this easier.

Mari leans forward. She presses her lips to his.

And, somewhere, there really are bats.

But not here, not now.

There is nothing except this.

An overcast sky in the morning replaces the clarity of last night. A cool breeze rustles the leaves, carrying a suggestion of rain.

As they load the car, Mari and Archie exchange flirtatious glances, Dante is lost deep in thought, and Sam groans at the wrath of a hangover.

“I'll tell the others you said goodbye,” says Zaius. “They would've liked to see you off, but you know how it is.” He gestures toward Sam. “He does, at least.”

Sam mutters his appreciation as he climbs into the front seat and rolls down the window.

Mari slams the trunk and hugs Zaius, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime.”

She moves back to Archie and slides her arm around his waist.

“Seriously, thanks,” Archie says, smiling.

Dante nods and shakes Zaius's hand.

“Seriously,” Zaius says, “if you need a place to stop on your way back, you're welcome here. The road can be a lonely place.”

Mari laughs. “But we're not traveling alone.”

Zaius shrugs. “Yes and no.”

As they cross the state line, the sky darkens into a greenish hue. Towering storm clouds push the late morning light into a sliver on the horizon. The rain picks up, and Dante sets the wipers swinging back and forth at their highest setting in a futile attempt to clear the droplets that batter the windshield.

He clicks on the headlights and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. He struggles to hold the road as gusts of winds push the car toward the shoulder. His visibility reduced, he slows the car to a crawl. He squints to find the dashed lines.

There are a few other vehicles on the road, and though they've slowed down, they're still moving fast enough to overtake Dante.

None of his friends are aware of his struggle. Sam is fast asleep in the front seat. Mari and Archie sleep in the back, holding hands while her head rests in his lap.