An Infinite Number of Parallel Universes (26 page)

BOOK: An Infinite Number of Parallel Universes
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Dante laughs, wincing as it triggers pain. “Don't you think I've thought about that, Arch? Don't you think I haven't thought about waiting until college to come out? Or don't you think I've thought about never telling anyone at all?”

“So why did you?”

“I realized it's never going to be safe, Arch. Nowhere is, for anyone. Not for people like me and your dad.” Archie bristles at the mention of his father, but Dante continues. “Not even for you. Or Mari. Or Sam. Horrible people are everywhere.”

Archie scratches the back of his head and kicks idly at some loose pieces of gravel. Sam listens to their conversation, trying to understand.

Dante continues. “But you get to a point, Arch, where you just get sick of hiding, of lying to everyone. You have to stop caring what they think to survive. Because that feeling—that silencing you're doing to yourself—it becomes worse than anything anyone else could ever do to you.”

“Even this?” Archie gestures toward the bruises on Dante's beaten body.

Dante nods. “Even this.”

“You sure?”

“Constantly living with that fear? That shame? It's a million times worse than this.”

“I don't know if I agree with that. It scares the hell out of me that something like that could happen to you . . . or to my dad.”

“But most people aren't horrible,” Dante says.

“I beg to differ,” Sam says. Archie nods.

“What about that woman who gave me the ice? Zaius and the others? Sunshine? Mari? You guys? You're still here.”

“Don't think I've been much help,” Sam says. “Being all obsessed with Sarah, I kind of forgot anyone else existed.”

Archie says, “And I clearly haven't been what you needed me to be. The friend you've needed.”

“Then start now. And when we get home, be the son your father needs.”

“I'll try.”

“Good,” Dante says, readjusting the bundle of ice.

Sam nods.

“They're on their way,” Mari says as she returns, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She wipes her eyes. Seeing her boys sitting on the curb, all sad-looking, she kisses them each on the top of the head and then sits down next to Archie.

They lift their eyes to the stars. It is a clear night, the kind of night for inventing constellations.

A letter starts to flicker in the motel's sign. But just as it looks like it's about to blink out, the light returns, glowing brighter and steadier than before.

“Can I ask you something?” asks Archie.

“Sure,” Dante answers.

“And promise you'll answer honestly?”

“Of course.”

“You ever think about
me
. . . you know . . . sexually?”

They all laugh.

“No offense, Arch,” Dante chuckles. “But you're not my type.”

Archie shakes his head. “Story of my life.”

Mari leans her head against Archie's shoulder and takes his hand. “Not anymore.”

Broken and Healed, Awake
Tuesday, 6:52
A.M.

Archie, Sam, Mari, and Dante gaze at the tarmac through their reflections in the window. Workers in bright orange vests and huge headsets bustle about the plane in the dawn's grey light. They attach a fuel line. They empty the cargo hold of bags, and they load it with new ones. They inspect the body of the aircraft to ensure it's safe for flight. In the distance another plane rolls down the runway and rises into the sky.

There is an announcement. Their flight has been delayed three hours. Storms in the Midwest. The friends set down their bags and sit on the floor in a circle.

“What are we going to do for three hours?” Sam asks.

“I've got an idea,” Mari says. She reaches into her bag and brings out a folder. From the folder, she pulls out a square of paper that she unfolds and lays out in the middle of their circle.

They all smile. It's their Dungeons & Dragons game map.

But then Dante points out, “We don't have any dice. Or our figures.”

Archie holds up his phone. “Dice app! And we can just use scraps of paper for our characters.”

“And we're still out a rogue,” Dante adds.

“I think we'll manage,” Sam says.

Dante shrugs. “So where were we?”

Mari smiles. She hands out the rest of the character sheets and sets up the folder like a shield. She pulls out her notebook and turns to the page filled with their adventure.

She reads, “You walk into the village and find it completely destroyed. Everywhere you look the ruins of huts and buildings are still smoldering. Charred corpses litter the ground as far as the eye can see—including that of your unfortunate rogue, Leera.” She winks at Sam. He laughs. She continues, “A handful of survivors forlornly pick through the rubble, perhaps looking for their valuables . . . or the bodies of their loved ones. You see a maiden—”

“Is she hot?” Archie interrupts.

“What?” Mari said.

“You know, is she hot? What's she look like?”

Mari glares at Archie.

Sam grins.

Dante starts chuckling in short bursts of deep laughter that sound like an engine trying to catch.

Archie removes his glasses, breathes onto the lenses, and then wipes them with the bottom of his shirt. “Well?”

“She's average. An average maiden.”

“Average can be hot. Seriously. What's she look like?”

“What's it matter?” Mari says. “She's fictional. Just a random peasant in the background.”

Archie shrugs. “So? I want to feel like I'm there. Paint me a picture.”

Dante's laughter rises. Sam's smile widens.

Mari sighs. “She looks . . .
average
. She wears
average
clothes. She is of
average
height. She has an
average
build.”

Archie considers this. “An average build, you say . . . so that would be like a B-cup? Or C?” He cups his hands in front of his own chest and grins. He moves them outward and awaits confirmation from Mari. Mari says nothing, so Archie continues to expand his imaginary bosom to pornographic proportions.

Mari scratches something out in her notebook and then resumes the story. “The maiden trips over a stone and dies.”

“Oh, my,” Archie says. “Poor girl.”

They continue.

As it usually does, it comes down to the boss battle. This time, the boss is an evil, winged minotaur that calls itself Sh'rgoth. This is the creature that has been terrorizing the countryside for so many years.

They have been battling Sh'rgoth for almost an hour straight. He is close to death, but only Mari knows exactly how close. The others fight on, waiting and hoping for its death, doing what they can to prevent their own.

Which is proving difficult. Archie's mage has used up his best spells. Sam's cleric has been rendered paralyzed. Dante's warrior is poisoned and on the brink of death.

It is Sh'rgoth's turn to attack. He swings his flaming broad sword in a sweeping arc that affects all members of the party. They roll for damage using the app on Archie's phone.

Archie takes five.

Sam takes seven.

Luckily, Dante only takes one.

It's not a lot of damage, but it's enough that Dante knows he will probably not survive another turn. This one has to count.

There is an announcement. Their plane has arrived. Preboarding will begin shortly. But the four friends stay on the floor, stay in their world.

It is Sam's turn, but he is paralyzed so gets skipped.

“What do you want to do?” Mari asks Dante.

“I strike.” Dante's finger hovers above Archie's phone. It is much less climactic than rolling an actual die, but such is life.

He taps the screen.

Everyone leans in to watch the digital twenty-sided die spin in place.

“Twenty!” Dante shouts, as the animation stops. He raises his hands in victory. “Critical hit!”

But before they celebrate too much, they turn to Mari who is calculating Dante's attack roll against the demon's defenses in her notebook behind the folder-screen.

She puts her pen down. Lifts her eyes to the party. Adjusts her glasses.

She says, “Sh'rgoth lets out an agonizing cry as the great axe sinks into his chest. His wings go limp, and he falls from the sky. His massive body, so strong and feared for centuries, slams into the ground below. The heroes rejoice over the crumpled form of their defeated foe.”

Sam and Dante and Archie celebrate with cheers and high-fives and hugs. Mari joins them. People stare, but the friends couldn't care less.

“Well played, guys,” she says.

“That was a great quest, Mari,” says Dante.

“Brilliant,” Archie says.

“Can't wait until next week,” adds Sam.

All around them, people stand and gather their things. The first boarding announcement crackles over the speaker. An imperfect line forms. Archie, Mari, Sam, and Dante hurry up and put everything from their game back into the folder.

They finish just as their section is called. They stand, still in a daze from the game.

Archie looks around the airport. He considers the destination board with its projected time of departure and arrival. He casts one more glance at the plane that will carry them over and across the continent.

“This isn't travelling,” he says.

The others nod. Without speaking, their minds fill with everything they've been through by themselves in the last few weeks, and then everything they've been through together in the last few days. Sneaking away in the middle of the night. Picking up a hitchhiker. Swimming naked in a lake. Surviving a tornado. Fighting with each other. Obtaining a free baby alligator. Watching the car burn. Going to Seattle for no reason and every reason. Saving Dante. Saving each other.

They step forward. Real life awaits. Together, they prepare to board, nervous and brave, broken and healed, awake and ready to return.

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