I fall back, not even feeling the water.
The future has changed, it’s settled down onto a certain track. I’m just not sure which track it’ll be. Right now, I know why there have been so many futures. The futures of me crippled. The ones with me and Vauxhall old. They’re all intertwined because Jimi and I are intertwined now. What happens next, no one can see. Now, nothing is certain but uncertainty.
Jimi retches. He sways, standing there with half the reservoir coming out of his lungs. He puts his hands on his knees and looks up at me, his eyes red with burst blood vessels. Right now, it’s like looking at myself in a mirror after a concussion.
We’re brothers in damage.
Jimi, he wipes his mouth and sighs, says, “The transfer… So freaking close, you don’t even… You can’t even get… If you’d killed me, I would be where you’re sitting right now. You’ve fucked this whole thing up, Ade. Unbelievable. Me, I’m supposed to be you.”
“But you’ll never be, Jimi. Never. There was enough,” I tell him, my voice coming out in gasps, “there was enough of my past still left. You lose.”
Jimi coughs. Swaying uneasily, he says, “There’s no going back now, Ade. I might be alive, but you and I, we’re wrapped up in this thing now. Like half-completed people. I’m looking forward to seeing how you work with what I gave you. The new you, I’m excited to see you struggle.”
I grab Jimi, my hands wrapped around the back of his head, my face right there in his, and I say, “No, I’m not going to struggle with this, Jimi. I’ll work it out. I’ll get over it. I’ve got a good shrink and good friends. And you, I can’t imagine you’ll be the same asshole with my childhood behind you. Storm’s over, brother. Time to pick up the pieces.”
And I let him go.
And I leave him standing there in the water, his head hanging, spitting out dark water into the shaky reflection of the sky.
FIVE
I don’t go home.
Vauxhall takes me to Village Inn in Cherry Creek and buys me a slice of pie and gets me two cups of coffee. Still shivering, I sit there and eat the pie quietly while Vauxhall stirs her coffee and watches me. Every now and then she reaches across the table, squeezes my hand.
I’m having trouble focusing, her face blending in with the emptiness of the lights.
Vauxhall tells me that this moment is like something from a movie. She tells me that there will be people talking about this forever, that the whole scene will be different now. She says, “Maybe, us teamed up, we can even change the past.”
I’m dreading that future and praying that I can change the rest of it too.
Vaux asks, “What do you want to do next?”
I don’t have a response, but that’s when the divination community shows up.
All of them. The Diviners, Grandpa Razor, the Metal Sisters. And every two-bit psychic with a shingle downtown. Every ghost hunter and palm reader. At least sixty people come filing into the restaurant near three thirty in the morning, all of them nodding and clapping as they form a circle around our table. Vauxhall, like she doesn’t even notice them, keeps her eyes on me.
They lift me up out of my seat and parade me around the restaurant, some of them shouting things like “Hail to the King!” and “Welcome to the New Age!” Katrina and Janice, smaller and younger than ever, stand before me, their eyes lowered. They apologize. Ask forgiveness. Paige and Celeste appear. Clyde and Ambrosia too. And then my mom shows up with the All Souls congregation and they’ve got a crown, this gold, sparkling crown. And they lay it on my head. And my dad shows up too, he’s the last one in, and he’s got the letter I sent him. He sits down, watches the crowd surge around me, and mouths, Thank you.
And then Vauxhall shakes me awake.
We’re still in Village Inn, the place empty besides us.
Vauxhall asks, “You okay to talk?”
I nod and wipe my eyes.
“How did you do it?”
I say, “It was like when it was seen, once it was seen, the future got stuck. That’s just how it’s always been. Grandpa Razor, the Metal Sisters, none of them could change it. Once you see it, the future is made.”
“But you did change it, Ade.”
“See, that’s the trick. I didn’t really change the future. I got changed.”
“-”
“Jimi changing me, that changed the future.”
Vauxhall gets up, sits next to me. Kisses me.
I say, “It’s what none of them got. You can’t force yourself on the world, get your hands wet with time and space. That’s fighting uphill, trying to move a mountain with a spoon. You turn the equation around and that’s when anything is possible.”
Vauxhall says, “Sounds like my parents talking.”
I laugh and it hurts. “Maybe the hippies were onto something.”
“You think I’ll change too?”
“I do.”
“Tell me how?”
“Well, the obvious way, for starters. Parties won’t be the same, people won’t be worried about me busting my head on their sinks or toilets or starting fights. And I don’t think you’ll be running away from Mantlo. You’re not going to be chasing the high anymore. No more intimate mysteries. Instead, something stable. More rewarding. Let’s hope.”
“I love you,” Vauxhall says.
I blow her a kiss.
Fall asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ONE
Heinz-
I appreciated your card and I’ve been meaning to write you for a few months now, but things have been nuts. Summer already, school almost out, and, to tell you the truth, I’m a changed person.
It might come as a surprise, maybe you’ll be bummed, but I haven’t had a vision in over six months. You know how they say that when you stop smoking, your body almost immediately starts to recover. How after just fifteen minutes your lungs are cleaning out the gunk and loading up on new cells. How after just a few weeks you’re breathing like a nonsmoker. Me, with my brain, it’s the same way. The docs might not agree (they’re all “damage is done, dude”), but I honestly feel better than I have in years. Straight up.
That doesn’t leave me with a lot of insight regarding your recent situation. Sorry to say, but I’m not too surprised nothing happened with the whole chicken pentagram deal. (Isn’t that way too old-school anyway? That’s like your grandfather’s Satanism.)
Oh, and I’ve given up trying to figure out how it works. I’ve got a few ideas, and oddly enough my girlfriend actually knows, but I just don’t really care as much now that I’m not using it. The why, it’s overrated.
Late,
Ade
TWO
My first official competitive swim meet and it’s a big one.
Mantlo v. George Washington.
Bitter rivals.
Dark outside, the windows of Celebrity are all fogged up and the fans are turning in the rafters something furious. The place is so quiet, everyone so focused on the meet that the sound of the fake waterfalls spilling their guts onto fake rocks is deafening. It’s us against George Washington and Coach has me swimming in the first lane, the outside one, where the slowpokes loiter. There are no carrots here, no fine Beverly Morrison asses to follow.
I’m on the block and tensed to jump, my muscles all pulled to their limits.
On the chairs across the pool, Vauxhall and Paige and my mom are sitting with their hands in their laps, necks stretched out, none of them talking now, but when we first got to the meet my mom was going on and on about Vaux’s documentary. I think she just liked seeing me in it. The film debuted at a student film festival in Boulder and what’s funny is that Vaux dubbed over all my lines, all my brilliant lines. Like the reverse of some comedy flick, she dubbed in Chinese from a kung fu movie. Funny, really. But right now, they’re not thinking movies, just thinking about me. I’m watching Vauxhall and her eyes, the way she’s holding herself. Sitting there she looks comfortable. She looks tamed in some way.