“Wake up.”
The voice came to him in a sleep-addled jumble. He tried to ignore it.
“Wake up,” it said again, this time more insistently. “If you don’t wake up soon, I’m gonna tip a glass of water over your head.”
Jim cracked open one eye, ready to admonish the very rude owner of the voice. He looked up into a face. It was a familiar face, but somehow it was wrong. In a few moments, he realised that he normally saw it in reverse: in the mirror.
“Hey!” he cried, sitting up so suddenly that his head spun.
The other man clapped a hand over his mouth, “Do you want to wake the whole house?” he demanded. “Get a grip already.”
With an effort, Jim calmed down and his double released his grip. “Do you care to explain exactly who you are, how you got here and what you’re doing here?” he asked, his voice edged with sarcasm.
“I need a favour,” said the look-alike. “You’re the only one who can do it.”
“What makes you think I’ll do what you ask?” he wondered aloud.
“Because I’m you; you’re me; whichever way you want to look at it,” he replied. “Look, I haven’t got time for explanations. I’ve got something I’ve got to do, but Trixie will get suspicious if I disappear. Your job is just to keep her from suspecting there’s anything happening. Brian will tell you everything when you get there.”
“And where is ‘there’,” Jim asked, scratching his head.
The other Jim pulled him out of bed and propelled him towards a swirling patch on the wall. Faint blues and greens merged and re-emerged over the usual tasteful cream tone. “There,” he said. “Just go through and Brian will explain everything.”
“But who will be me, while I’m being you?” he asked, resisting the other man’s attempts to thrust him through the wall.
“Me,” the other Jim answered. “I’m going to keep Trixie out of trouble here, while you keep her out of trouble there.”
Before Jim could object, his double thrust him through the vortex. He felt a momentary disorientation, looked down to see that he was sitting on a bed, then looked up to see Brian eyeing him with concern. To all appearances, this was his room at the Manor House and in front of him was his best friend.
“Are you all right?” asked Brian. “You look dizzy. Are you feeling any nausea?”
“No, I’m fine,” Jim replied, waving him away. “What just happened?”
“It’s a little difficult to explain,” said the other man. “Have you, at any time, been exposed to the concept of portals to alternate dimensions? Or, of dimensions which result as an alternative to reality in circumstances where a critical decision is made, or event occurs? Essentially, you’ve just passed through such a portal into a dimension that is a by-product of your own.”
“Right,” said Jim, drawing out the word to its full potential.
“We’ve done a certain amount of experimentation concerning the portal,” Brian continued, oblivious to the mood of his audience. “We started with inanimate objects then progressed to insects, working our way up to people. I have, in fact, changed places with my own double on more than one occasion, so we’re quite confident of the results of this particular swap.”
“You are,” said Jim, sounding dubious.
“Now, the reason you’re here - if that’s what you’re really asking - is so that Jim can track down someone from our dimension who intends to harm Trixie in your dimension.”
“So, why couldn’t he just tell me and I could track this guy down?”
“Well,” said Brian, “there’s an important difference between your world and ours.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
For a long time, Brian did not answer. “Perhaps it would be better if I showed you.” Slowly, he crouched down into the correct lifting position. Then, without apparent effort, he lifted the bed to chest height. As Jim swiftly jumped down to the floor, Brian shifted slightly to lift higher until the headboard bumped against the ceiling.
“How are you doing that?” Jim asked, as the bed made a careful descent to the floor.
“It’s a little difficult to explain,” Brian repeated. “To put it simply, we believe that this dimension was formed by a cataclysmic rift in the barrier between the implausible and the impossible, creating a schismatic point, which in turn led to a bubble on reality, which then expanded to fill the resulting void.”
“What caused the rift in the first place?”
“To date, none of our research has been able to prove it, but our Jim and I think that Trixie did it by avoiding the natural consequences of her actions too many times. That, or it was the time that Bobby dropped my experimental Reality Displacement Device into the washing machine.”
“And, what are the consequences of this? Everyone here can lift beds over their head?” he asked, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice.
“Not at all,” said Brian, indicating that he should try. “See? The bed and your strength are both exactly the same as in your world. The only difference that Jim and I have been able to find is that we each have… additional abilities, as do Mart and Dan. No one who was more than a certain distance from the immediate area seems to have been affected in the least,” he said, his voice portraying clearly exactly how satisfying he found this fact.
“Would you say that you tend to be conspicuous?” he continued.
“With this hair? Of course.”
“Well, come over to the mirror and we’ll see if you can do something about that,” he said, standing behind Jim and guiding him into place. “Look at your reflection for a moment. You look completely normal, right?”
“Yup,” said Jim. “Hair’s still as red as ever.”
“Now, close your eyes and imagine that you’re blending in to your surroundings. When you feel that you’ve done that, open your eyes.”
“Aaargh!” yelled Jim, on seeing his reflection. “What did you do? I’m too young to be bald!”
Instead of thick red hair, Jim’s head now resembled the proverbial billiard ball. Even his eyebrows and lashes had disappeared. He looked down and noticed that the fine hairs on his arms were nowhere in sight.
“Close your eyes again and try a little harder,” said Brian, in a firm voice. “Don’t yell like that, either. You’ll let the girls know that something’s going on. Are you concentrating on blending in?”
“How am I supposed to do that when I’m bald?” demanded Jim.
“Put your hand on your head and feel. You’re not bald; you’re just not trying hard enough.”
With tentative fingers, Jim reached up and examined his head, noting with immense relief that Brian appeared to be correct.
“Do you feel that you’re blending in, yet?” Brian continued, seeing that he was beginning to calm.
“Not yet,” he said, his face contorted with extreme concentration. “Okay, I’m blending in. What do I do now?” Brian told him to open his eyes once again. This time, the mirror reflected only the room and not him. “I don’t show up in mirrors? Is this my ability? Brian, if you tell me that I’m a vampire here, I’m not going to be happy.”
“You’re not a vampire,” he laughed. “Look down at yourself. It’s not just the mirror.”
Jim did as he was told, feeling reality spiral away into the distance. He waved his hand in front of his face. Nothing. His clothes were still there, but no limbs emerged from them. Lifting the hem of his pyjama shirt, he could see right down the inside of his pants.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” he said, in a strange, calm voice.
“Think conspicuous thoughts,” said Brian.
He concentrated on the sensation of standing out in a crowd and, instead of empty space, he looked at his own flat stomach. After a moment, his hands appeared and he let go of the fabric. Looking up into the mirror, he was relieved to see his hair, just as usual. One of his eyebrows was missing, but everything else seemed to be just as normal.
“You’ll need to practice a little before you can do that in front of Mart or Dan,” said Brian, apparently trying not to look at the missing eyebrow. “Neither of them know that you’re not the Jim who normally lives here and I don’t think it wise to tell them.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s a little difficult to explain,” said Brian, for the third time. “Remember that I said we theorised that Trixie had something to do with the rift in the barrier-”
“Yes, I got that the first time,” Jim interrupted. “Don’t tell me again, or I’ll get confused.”
“Do you remember a case a few years ago where she was being threatened by a man called Slim Jacobsen?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Jim, after a moment’s thought. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of all the people who threatened Trixie. “He was the guy who was buying stolen jewelry on the black market and on-selling it to students at Sleepyside High. Trixie found enough evidence for him to be arrested, but he escaped and came to the house. She managed to get the gun from him.”
Brian nodded. “Either he was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back, or the time that she made her rather implausible escape from him was the exact moment that Bobby dropped the experimental Reality Displacement Device into the washing machine.”
“So, if she was right there, why wasn’t she affected?”
“Well, that’s the main problem with the washing machine theory,” Brian explained. “The accumulated improbability theory explains that fact much better, in that Trixie, by taking so many unnecessary risks, acquired a need to be protected, which is satisfied by our additional abilities.”
“You still haven’t explained why I’m here.”
“Well, that’s quite simple,” said Brian.
“Finally,” Jim muttered. “Something that’s simple.”
“You’re here, because Slim was also affected by the rift and he is the one who wants to get Trixie. His additional ability makes it impossible for the police to hold onto him: he’s as slippery as an eel. With Jim, Mart, Dan and I here to protect Trixie, he can’t get near, so he decided to get her in the other reality. Jim has followed him to protect her. Slim will, of course, have lost his extra ability when he entered your world, so it should be a fairly simple task. You’re here to make sure that the Trixie who is here never knows that her other self is in danger. ”
“I’m here to keep a mystery from Trixie? Are you insane?”
“Not at all,” said Brian. “You know how to act like you. You look exactly like you. What more do we need?”
“Never mind,” Jim muttered. “Now, are you going to leave me alone so I can practice?”
“Okay,” said Brian. “Just remember: the girls don’t know anything about our powers and Mart and Dan don’t know that you’re not the Jim who lives here. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Wait! Why will I see you at breakfast? You don’t live here, do you?”
“Didn’t I mention that?” asked Brian, frowning. “We’re having a house party. All the Bob-Whites are in the house at the moment.”
“Great. Just great,” Jim muttered. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He opened the door and waited for his friend to exit, closing it firmly behind him and flicking the lock. The next time I wake up to find myself asking for favours, he decided, I’m going straight back to sleep.
By the time morning arrived, Jim was fairly confident in his ability to disappear and reappear at will. He was still experiencing trouble with his left eyebrow, but the rest of his body was co-operating well. With more than a little reluctance, he dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast.
“Good morning, everyone,” he called, as he entered the room. “It looks like a nice day.”
Brian, Diana and Trixie, who were already seated, added an assortment of greetings.
“Where do you think you’re sitting?” asked Di, as he tried to take his usual chair next to Trixie. “That will be Meldrick’s place. You’d better sit on the other side, so there’ll be room for Inga.”
Inga? he thought in confusion, as he walked to the opposite side of the table. Meldrick? Who on Earth are Inga and Meldrick? What sort of name is Meldrick, anyway? And why can’t I sit next to my own girlfriend? Or, isn’t she my girlfriend here? He tried not to frown at Trixie. In the two years since she turned sixteen and was allowed to date, the two had been inseparable. Brian has a lot of explaining to do, I think.
A few of his questions were answered moments later when the rest of the group arrived. As well as the three Bob-Whites that he recognised, a handsome, dark-haired young man and a tall, beautiful blonde woman walked into the room. Jim struggled to stay calm as the man kissed Trixie thoroughly, right there at the breakfast table. A moment later, he had a shock.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me good morning?” asked the woman, who must be Inga.
“Do you think I should?” he asked, in what he hoped was a teasing tone.
In answer, she leaned over and kissed him. Her long, glossy hair swung forward and rested against his shoulder. She was wearing some sort of perfume. It made Jim feel dizzy.
“Enough of that,” cried Brian, telling everyone to sit down. “I don’t need to see that sort of thing.”
An unfamiliar woman came in to serve their meal. Jim tried not to look surprised, but this day was such a stream of surprises that he felt it must have been showing on his face. Brian has a lot of explaining to do, he thought, poking his food with his fork. The sooner I can get him alone, the better.
Jim stumbled through the meal, trying not to say too much. He avoided looking at Trixie altogether. She was so clearly enamoured with Meldrick that the sight of her made him feel ill. Who is this jerk and why is he pawing my girlfriend? Jim wondered. I thought this was a Bob-White house party. Who let these other people in?
“It’s so good to have all nine Bob-Whites together again,” said Honey blissfully, just as he was thinking these things. “Just like old times. I’m so glad you could all come to my party, especially since I probably won’t see you all for a long time.”
For the first time since arriving here, Jim really looked at his sister. There was something different about her, but he could not put a finger on what it was. She looked so serene as she added plenty of milk to her coffee, yet there was an emotional undercurrent he did not understand. He took a glance around the table at the familiar faces. Everyone was a little bit different to what he knew.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” said Trixie, sounding and looking annoyed. “You don’t have to spend a year in Europe. You could stay here with us.”
“I want to spend the year in Europe,” Honey replied, with the air of one who has said the words many times. “I’m not going to change my mind and please don’t spoil our last few days together with trying to convince me otherwise.”
“What do you all think about lunch at the lake?” asked Brian, in artificially cheerful tones. “We can split up this morning and meet there for a picnic and swim.”
There was a chorus of approval, followed by a multitude of suggestions of what to take. In a few minutes, the meal was finished, the preparation work for their lunch was equally divided and the group scattered to their various appointed tasks. Jim lingered a moment to talk to Brian.
“You’re doing well,” Brian said, patting him firmly on the back. “Good job, so far. There’s just one thing that I forgot to mention.”
“Only one?” Jim muttered. “More like a hundred.”
“Don’t exaggerate. You sound like Trixie.” He grinned, shaking his head. “Now, the other thing you need to know is that becoming invisible outside is different from doing it inside. You’ll need to practice that, too. Don’t forget to take a mirror and make sure you hide your clothes well if you go somewhere that you might be seen. I’ll distract Inga.”
“About Inga-”
“No time to explain,” said Brian, quickly walking away. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Great, thought Jim, scowling deeply. Just great. I’ll be naked, invisible and completely in the dark.
Outside, a short time later, Jim found a good spot to practice his new skill. A small clearing had formed by the death of a large evergreen, not far from the clubhouse. The tree had been removed, but a few large sections of trunk remained. Thick undergrowth shielded him from sight, making him feel confident enough to leave his clothes on while he experimented. He had succeeded in becoming completely invisible when he heard voices approaching.
“I don’t know what Jim thinks he’s doing,” Inga was complaining. “He told me yesterday that we could spend today alone together. Then, last night, he said that he had some things to do and we’d have to do it another day. This morning, he doesn’t say a word about it and just leaves word with Brian that he’s gone. He didn’t even say goodbye!”
Jim was seized with panic. They’re coming this way! he thought. They’re going to find me here. What should I do? Remembering Brian’s words, he threw off all of his clothes and shoved them into a nearby bush, along with the makeup mirror he had swiped from his sister’s room.
“Men,” muttered Honey, in dark tones. “You can’t trust them as far as you can throw them.”
“Speaking for myself,” added Di, with a giggle, “I couldn’t throw a man at all.”
“My point exactly,” agreed Honey.
They’re almost here, he thought. What do I do now? I can’t get away - they’d hear me.
“If you ask me,” Trixie added, pushing through the undergrowth and into the clearing, “Jim is the least trustworthy of men.”
“You only say that because you broke up with him,” said Inga. “I’m not accusing him of anything except thoughtlessness. If he makes it up to me, I’ll forgive him.”
“Are you all right, Honey?” asked Di.
The four young women were now sitting on the logs, with Di just inches away from where Jim stood. Honey had an arm across her lower abdomen.
“I’ll be okay in a little while,” she replied on a groan. “It’s just period pain.”
“You should see someone about that,” said Trixie, with concern. “I don’t think I could stand it if I had a day every month that I could hardly stand up for the pain. It’s bad enough having a period for five days, without it hurting, too.”
Don’t talk about that! Jim silently cried, as he felt his face redden with embarrassment. I can’t get away and I don’t want to think about that! It was bad enough knowing that such things existed, without having to deal with the specifics as they applied to people he knew.
“Only five days?” asked Di. “You’re lucky. I’m usually stuck with it for six or seven!”
“It doesn’t hurt for the whole day,” Honey belatedly objected, with another pitiful groan. “Just for an hour or two.”
“Hey, what’s that thing?” asked Inga, pointing right at Jim’s head. “It looks a little like a feather, but it’s not falling.”
My eyebrow! he thought, pushing down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. What am I going to do? I can’t become visible now - I’m naked!
“It must be caught in a spider’s web,” said Honey, without much interest. “You just can’t see the web. So, Trixie, how are things going between you and Meldrick. You two are looking pretty cozy these days.”
“We’ve got a date tonight,” Trixie said, looking smug. “Unlike some people I know, he keeps his word.”
Jim felt himself going red. Instead of embarrassment, he was now feeling anger. I’ll make him regret that he ever set eyes on her, he decided. And who says I don’t keep my word? I always keep my word! Inga was looking at him strangely and he wondered for a moment whether another part of him was becoming visible.
“Now there’s two,” she said, staring at him even harder. “And the air is looking kind of… wiggly. What could it be?”
“It’s just the sunlight on the spider web,” said Honey. “And don’t try to change the subject. I want all the dirt on those two before I go.”
Trixie had a most inviting coy look on her face, and Jim forced himself to look away. He tried very hard to make his eyebrows disappear again, but without the mirror was unable to tell if he was successful.
“Things are going pretty well,” said Trixie, quirking an eyebrow. “I think he’s the one.”
“You did say that about Jim,” Honey reminded. “You told me you were sure that you’d be with Jim forever.”
“That was before.” Trixie’s smile vanished and was replaced with a frown. “I was wrong about him. He isn’t anywhere near as honest and trustworthy as I thought he was.”
I’ll give her honest and trustworthy, he inwardly fumed. The nerve of her!
“I don’t mind,” said Inga, laughing. “I’ll have him. And since I don’t have any illusions about him, I don’t think I’ll fall into the same trap.”
Honey moved over to give Inga a hug. She said, “I’m glad you’re happy with him. Maybe, one day, you’ll be my sister-in-law. I used to think it would be fun if Trixie was, but I can always marry one of her brothers, instead.”
“You can marry Bobby,” said Trixie, grinning once again. “I dare you to marry Bobby. Just think of all the mending possibilities.”
“When he’s old enough to get married,” said Honey with a giggle, “he’ll have grown out of the habit of destroying all his clothes. Besides, I think he has a lot of hotness-potential.”
“Oh, please!” cried Trixie, hands over her ears. “I didn’t hear that!”
I didn’t hear it, either, echoed Jim, inside his own head.
“She’s right,” said Di. “He looks a lot like Mart, you know, and he is certainly hot.”
“If you’re going to have that conversation about my brothers again, I’m leaving!” said Trixie, jumping over the log on which she was sitting and only barely missing Jim’s foot. “I’ll run off into the preserve and get lost, rather than listen to that again.”
She swung an arm to demonstrate the direction she would take. Jim was forced to move swiftly out of the way and came close to losing his balance in doing so. He swung his own arms, trying to stop the fall that he felt was almost inevitable.
“Funny,” said Honey. “I thought I felt a breeze, but the leaves aren’t moving.”
Jim continued to sway, not wanting to move his feet, for fear of making a noise, but knowing that he would soon fall if he didn’t.
“Oh, sit down, Trixie,” said Di, feigning impatience. “We’ll talk about something else.”
Trixie grinned and jumped back over the log. To Jim’s great relief, she made enough noise to cover him as he regained his balance. He took the opportunity to stretch and find a new position to stand in, this time a little further from the girls.
“So, if Honey’s plans and Trixie’s brothers’ hotness and Jim and Meldrick are all off-limits, what are we going to talk about?” asked Inga. “I don’t think I know any more topics of common interest.”
Honey let out a long sigh. “It’s sad that we don’t have so much in common, anymore. We used to be able to talk about anything.”
“I was kidding,” said Inga.
“I know,” Honey replied. “It’s just that since Trix and I discovered that Jim and Brian are despicable rats-”
“You forgot untrustworthy, obnoxious and deceitful,” added Trixie.
“Sorry. Despicable, untrustworthy, obnoxious, deceitful rats; is that better? Since we found that out about them, it’s made things a lot harder for the four of us. I miss the way things were before, even if we only had that for a little while.”
“Me, too,” said Trixie. “Not that I want to still be in the dark about their true character, or still trust them the way we used to, and not that I would want to still be Jim’s girlfriend, or really have anything much to do with him, other than Bob-White stuff, but just the way things were between us.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Honey, with a nod. “Except with Brian, instead of Jim.”
What have Brian and I been doing here? wondered Jim, running nervous hands through his hair. Brian has a lot of explaining to do. And when are these girls going to go? I’ve got to get away from here!
Di was glancing at her watch, a look of regret on her face. “If we don’t get down to the lake soon,” she said, “they’re going to come looking for us. Either that, or Mart will eat all the food.”
In a minute or two, the four had gone back to the path and their voices were disappearing into the distance. Jim heaved a sigh of relief and began to dress again, thinking conspicuous thoughts as soon as he was decently covered. A quick check in the mirror told him that his eyebrows were, for once, behaving. Confident that he appeared just as usual, he set off in search of Brian.
To Jim’s annoyance, Brian had chosen to spend the time with his brother at the lake. The two were tending the barbecue, apparently having decided that real men need meat for lunch. Once again, there was no opportunity to ask the dozens of questions which were circulating in his mind. Even worse, Inga was there, impatiently waiting.
“There you are,” she said, pretending to be playful while she was quite obviously very put out. “I was beginning to wonder if we should send out the search party.” She took his hand and led him towards the water, dropping her voice to a sultry whisper. “Let’s take a swim before lunch, just you and me.”
“Yeah, uh, sure,” he stammered, trying to look interested as she stripped off her shirt.
“Then, after lunch,” she continued, wading into the water, “we can take the boat out. You could sing me our song.”
There was some kind of a joke in her words, but he could not make out its meaning. Apparently, she expected him to object to the last suggestion. He hedged his bets and said, “What song?”
Inga laughed prettily and dove under the water, surfacing a few yards further out. He could see the invitation in her eyes to join her in the water, but he did not want to act. He stood in the shallows, watching her, for as long as he thought he could get away with it before slowly moving into the deeper part of the lake.
“Please, sing for me, Jim,” she coaxed, as he drew nearer.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Besides, you haven’t told me what song. I can’t remember any song.”
“You tease,” she giggled. “I might just have to remind you.” She ran a long finger down his chest. “It’s a little song about a rowboat.”
“I don’t know any songs about rowboats,” he replied, trying not to betray his negative reaction as she rubbed her body against his.
“Of course you do. Everybody knows this song.” She began to sing, her voice low and breathy, so quiet that only he could hear her. “‘Row, row, row your boat…’” After the first line, she burst into giggles.
Oh, please! thought Jim. She can’t be serious. I’m not singing that!
“Come on, sweetheart,” she pleaded. “Sing for me.”
Across the water, a welcome interruption arrived in the form of Honey’s voice summoning them to lunch. With enormous relief surging through him, Jim headed for the shore.
“I’m starving,” he said, noting the look of frustration that coursed across Inga’s face. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
As the debris was being cleared away after their extensive lunch, Jim saw a chance to get some extra information from Brian. The other man stood just a little way apart from the rest of the group and Jim took hold of the opportunity with both hands.
“A word, please, Brian,” he said in a low voice, nodding to the path which led away from the lake.
“Only for a moment,” Brian replied. “I’ve got other things I need to be doing.”
“Not just ‘for a moment,’” said Jim, beginning to lose his temper. “I’m doing you a huge favour here and you’re going to answer my questions, or I’ll tell Trixie what’s going on.”
“That’s really not a good idea.”
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea,” Jim shouted. Reigning in his temper with obvious effort, he continued in a calmer voice, “Now, explain to me, please what the situation is here. Why do Trixie and Honey hate us? Who are Meldrick and Inga? Who is the woman who served us breakfast?”
“Whoa, that’s enough,” said Brian, laughing. “The woman who served our breakfast is Mrs. Tanner. She came to the Manor House right after the rift happened, and Celia Delanoy left. Inga is her daughter and Meldrick is her step-son.”
“Inga Tanner?” asked Jim. “What kind of name is that?”
“It’s Inga Svensen,” Brian corrected. “Mrs. Tanner’s daughter from her first marriage. Meldrick is Mr. Tanner’s son from his first marriage. He’s the chauffeur here, now. Not long after they moved here, we invited Inga and Meldrick to join the Bob-Whites.”
“And what about Trixie and Honey,” demanded Jim. “Why do they hate us? Did they hate us when Inga and Meldrick joined?”
“No, that was a little later, still. It’s a little difficult to explain-”
“If you say that again,” said Jim, through gritted teeth, “I’m going to hurt you.”
“Then who would get you home?” asked Brian. “As I was saying, the reason the girls hate us is rather complex, but I believe it stems from the initial tactics we used to cover our new abilities once we discovered that we had them. In hindsight, perhaps, it was not the best plan we could have come up with. It’s always difficult to keep secrets from Trixie-”
“Then why do you persist in doing so?”
“Do you really think it would be wise to tell Trixie of our abilities? Or, of Mart’s and Dan’s? Do you have any idea of what she would do if she found out?”
“I don’t even know what Mart’s and Dan’s abilities are,” said Jim, his temper rising once again. “Besides, they’re your abilities. Trixie could only exploit them if you let her. I don’t see any reason why that would happen.”
“I don’t agree,” said Brian. “Trixie has, in the past, exploited our natural abilities too many times to count-”
“Are you going to tell me what Mart and Dan’s abilities are?”
There was a long pause while Brian contemplated his companion. Finally, he said, “Mart has what you would probably call X-Ray vision. It’s fairly harmless; he mostly uses it to check out the contents of other people’s refrigerators. Dan’s ability is something that he can’t really use all that often, in case people see him. He can fly.”
“Oh,” said Jim. “Oh. Super strength, X-Ray vision, flying and invisibility. It’s like we’ve stepped out of a comic, or something.” He shook his head to clear it. “So, about the girls?”
“Well, at first we just told them that we were extra busy with our studies. They were disappointed, but at least they understood. The trouble started at the beginning of summer that year.” Brian paused and cleared his throat. “I guess you’d say that telling them that you and I were doing an intensive course in the Hutoochi language, in preparation for an expedition to the Venezuelan interior, was a bad idea,” he continued, oblivious to the fact that his audience was now looking at him with disbelief and muttering ‘Hutoochi?’ under his breath. “As it happened, it only took them a week to find out that there was no such language and that the official language of Venezuela is Spanish.”
“Did you lose your common sense when you acquired all that muscle?” asked Jim, utterly incredulous. “Of course that was a bad idea.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Brian muttered. “Up until then, we had plenty of peace to learn to use our abilities. It was only when they found out that Trixie and Honey dumped us and decided that we were only of slightly more worth than some disgusting kind of bugs.”
“And this is why Honey is spending a year in Europe?”
“Not exactly,” said Brian, obviously hedging. “That’s more of a thing between the girls. I don’t think it’s really anything to do with us. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Things to do. You need to get back to Inga, so she won’t be suspicious.”
I don’t want to go back to Inga, Jim thought as Brian hurried away. The last thing I need is for her to want to get frisky with me. He shuddered, then sincerely hoped that no one was around to see him.
“I thought you must be around here somewhere,” he heard her say at almost the exact moment these thoughts were coursing through his brain. “You owe me a rowboat ride, remember? Not to mention a song.”
Jim looked around, desperately seeking a way out, but none presented itself. With heavy steps, he allowed himself to be led by the hand back to the lake. The rowboat was all ready to go, bobbing gently as the breeze rippled the water. Normally, it would be an inviting sight. Today, he just wanted to run away and hide.
Inga was waiting for him to help her into the boat. With an effort, he schooled his expression into what he hoped was pleasant anticipation and offered her his hand. She settled herself comfortably on a cushion and waited for him to seat himself and start rowing.
“Straight across the lake and back?” he asked, feeling hopeful.
“Of course not,” she giggled. “First, you need to serenade me with our song, while you row to our special place, then…” Her voice trailed off and she smiled shyly. Jim gulped.
“I don’t think I’m feeling up to it,” he said, giving a rather forced cough. “I might have to sing for you some other time.”
The boat was moving smoothly over the water by this time. Jim resolutely aimed for the other side, regardless of what Inga had told him.
“You’re rowing too fast,” she said, a teasing light in her eyes. “Slow down and sing for me.”
What can I do to get out of this? he wondered, even as he slowed his pace. Maybe I could jump out of the boat and swim to shore. Even this seemed hopeless, so he cleared his throat in preparation to starting.
“Row, row, row your boat,” he began, in little more than a mumble.
“A little louder,” she giggled.
“Gently down the stream.” He tried to keep the scowl from his face, but it was a losing battle. “Merrily, merrily, merrily-”
“Hey! Those aren’t our words,” cried Inga, slapping his leg playfully.
“I’m not singing any others,” he replied. He let the oars rest and the boat slowed to a gentle drift.
“We’ll see about that.”
Inga leaned forward, reaching for his side where, apparently, she already knew that he was ticklish. The boat rocked violently as Jim tried to avoid her advances. She was almost on top of him, now. Her long fingers sought any undefended skin. Jim ducked and snatched at her hands, making the boat rock even more. Water sloshed over the side.
“You’ll turn us over, if you don’t stop that,” she admonished, trying all the while to tickle him.
“I’ll turn us over?” he asked, finally succeeding in grabbing both her hands at once.
She was so close that her perfume was overpowering. He held his breath, unwilling to take in any more of the scent. I’m going to pass out, he thought. If I breathe, I’ll cough. If I don’t breathe, I’ll fall out into the lake and drown.
He took a breath. Just as he had expected, the sudden influx of that strong smell gave him the urge to cough. He hastily pushed her away and gave in to the urge. He could feel his face turning red and noticed the alarm on Inga’s face.
“Are you okay?” she said, as soon as the fit had passed.
“I don’t think so,” said Jim, adding another cough for good measure. “All of a sudden, I don’t feel so well. I think I’d better take us back to shore. I think I need an afternoon nap, or an early night, or both.”
“Are you sick, Jim?” asked Inga, placing a hand on his forehead. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”
“You know, I think I might be,” he replied, internally rejoicing at the idea. “It might be contagious. I think I’d better head home right away.”
“I’m really sorry about that,” she said, trailing her fingers down his chest. “I had planned for us to go out tonight, just the two of us.” Jim tried to look regretful, as well as slightly unwell. “Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“I hope so,” said Jim as he turned the boat and started rowing towards the boathouse.
They sat in silence for the rest of the trip. Inga’s face was filled with such proprietary concern that Jim could not bear to look at her. Instead, he concentrated on the even strokes of the oars. In only a few minutes, they arrived at their starting point and Jim helped Inga onto dry land.
“Why don’t you stay down here and see if you can find the others. They can’t be too far away,” he said, pulling away from her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Inga leaned in to kiss him goodbye, but he shook his head and murmured the word ‘contagious.’ She let out a sigh. He could feel her watching him as he walked away and made an effort to keep his step even. Every so often, he remembered to cough. The sag of his shoulders was more a result of the immense relief at escaping her than any pretense at illness, but he felt that it probably helped the illusion.
The door of the Manor House closed behind him and he ducked, unseen, into the library. The lower floor of the house seemed deserted, though he knew that behind the kitchen door would be the regular bustle of mid-afternoon dinner preparations. Seating himself on a hard chair, which would not bear a mark from his body, he let himself become invisible.
“Quick! In here!” he heard a familiar voice whisper.
Two sets of hasty footsteps approached and Jim was horrified to find himself closeted in the room with Trixie and Meldrick – with the door closed. He had, at least, the presence of mind to strip off his shirt and drop it on the floor. His lower body was partly screened by a table, but he was by no means completely hidden. Why do these things keep happening to me? he wondered. The pair sank onto one of the comfortable sofas and began to embrace. Jim shut his eyes.
“Not here,” Trixie giggled, rather breathlessly. “The door isn’t locked; anyone could come in.”
“So?” asked Meldrick. “All I’m doing is biting you on the neck. You’re over eighteen. What can they object to in that?”
Jim cringed and stuck his fingers in his ears. It did not help in the least: he could still hear Trixie’s reply.
“It’s the part where it doesn’t leave a mark that’s the problem,” she said.
Doesn’t leave a mark? thought Jim, as his temper threatened once again. What’s going on here?
“I could always say that I wasn’t really biting you,” he said.
Jim squeezed his eyes shut tighter and put his whole hands over his ears. That did not help, either.
“Meldrick! I mean it: not here. It’s not safe. Someone could be watching. Kiss me instead.”
“Who could watch us?” he objected. “You’d hear if there was someone else here.”
“Not me,” she said, cryptically. “Though, I could invite her, if you’d prefer.”
Meldrick’s reply consisted of something like a growl, which descended into a whisper. Jim was so thankful that he did not have to listen to the words that he almost fell off his chair when Trixie’s throaty laugh rang out in response.
“You are bad,” she said. “I think I’ll have to spank you later.”
Bile rose in Jim’s throat. She’s never said anything like that to me, he thought, grimacing. I wish I’d never heard her say it. I hope I never have to hear it again! A strange noise caused him to open his eyes.
He was just in time to see Meldrick hoist Trixie over his shoulder, fireman-style, and give her a smart tap on the backside. “You’ll pay for that,” he said, with a laugh worthy of a pirate. She let out a very girly shriek, much like the ones that Di made whenever someone splashed her at the lake.
“Please, Meldrick, put me down!”
Jim’s stomach tied itself in knots at the change he noticed in Trixie. She never acts this way around me, he thought. It’s not like her.
The other man strode across the room, his girlfriend ineffectually pounding at his back the whole way, and left the room with a flourish. Jim slumped in his chair. I think that might have been one of the worst experiences I’ve had since I moved here, he decided. This invisibility thing is nothing but trouble. I don’t think I’m going to use it any more.
With an effort, he pushed himself up and out of the chair and wandered across the room, completely forgetting that he was still invisible. His mind was so occupied with the less-pleasing aspects of the situation he had landed in that he did not really notice where he was wandering.
By a stroke of luck, he did not meet anyone on the way to his room. He reached out for the doorknob, only to discover that his hand was nowhere in sight. He looked down and discovered that he appeared to be a walking pair of pants. Worse still, he had left his shirt behind. Filled with a sudden panic, he put an ear to the door. Silence reigned within, so he quickly entered the room and locked the door behind him.
What am I doing? he wondered as he willed himself to become visible. I’ve got to be more careful, or I’ll blow the whole thing. He slumped onto the bed, drawing a hand over his eyes. Against his will, his mind returned to the conversation he had just overheard. Biting. Not leaving a mark. Hearing if there’s someone there. Something strange. Vampire-boy biting my girlfriend on the neck.
The thoughts ran around and around his head until he began to feel dizzy with them. Stop it, he told himself. This is a strange place. It’s not home. I can’t expect things to be the same. Still, a voice inside his head taunted him: You can’t trust Brian, here. He’s still not telling you everything. He’s not as sensible as the Brian you know. You can’t trust his judgement.
The next thought startled him so much that he sat up straight: Just because Brian says that Trixie doesn’t have powers, doesn’t mean that it’s true.
Without giving it consideration, Jim knew that he would have to investigate the matter. His recent resolution to disown his power was completely forgotten as a plan formed in his mind. Surveillance would certainly be easier while invisible; the only problem would be deciding the most likely places to watch. A slow smile crossed Jim’s face. I can do this, he decided. I’m going to investigate those girls and they’ll never know it.
An hour later, Jim’s plan had fully formed and he set about preparing for the first stage. A number of props would be required, but he was not sure where to locate them. In his own reality, he stored them in a large plastic container in a spare corner of his closet. He opened the door and checked the corresponding spot here, smiling as he found the box right where he expected.
Now, let’s just hope that the contents are the same, he thought, setting it on the bed and lifting off the lid. Jim let out a groan. Not only were the contents slightly different, they were extremely messy. He lifted out an odd sock – used, by the smell of it – and tossed it in the direction of the hamper. My alter ego has a lot to learn about personal hygiene, he thought.
He waved the box lid around a little, trying to clear away the smell. I don’t think that was all, he decided after a moment. There must be something else causing that smell. A little investigation uncovered something, which may once have been an apple, or perhaps a peach. It was covered in white fuzz and oozed liquid over the adjoining articles, particularly some towels.
‘Glen Road Inn,’ Jim read, frowning in disgust at his other self. Whatever caused these powers, he decided, took something more important away. I’ll have to give these back – right after they’ve been laundered.
He dug a little deeper, pushing aside a frying pan, which had been put away dirty. Underneath was something made of fabric in a bold blue, yellow and red design. It appeared to be an article of clothing and had been pilfered, apparently from someone whose name began with L. The rest of the name was indecipherable.
Beneath, he found a collection of smaller articles. This looks more promising, he thought, sorting through the tangle of fishing gear and other odds and ends. His opinion of the other Jim took a further nosedive as he discovered that the mass of snarled fishing line, which had engulfed some golf tees, a harmonica and a small screwdriver, contained at least three or four hooks.
Down in one corner was a pocket knife. Jim checked the blades and nodded in satisfaction. Next, he extracted a new roll of fishing line, still wrapped in plastic. Some sinkers were found rolling loose in the bottom of the box and they were added to the collection. After another few minutes searching, not to mention some pricked fingers from some more loose fish hooks, he found the last item on his list.
A few minutes’ manipulation produced quite a satisfactory result. Some further experimentation told him that the idea should work perfectly. He would be able to test his working theory and the girls would be none the wiser.
Now, all I need is to wait until the right time, he thought, smiling with satisfaction.
As he returned to his room later that evening, Jim could not quite remember how his plan had gone, or even what the details of it had been. He knew that he had in his possession an arrangement of fishing line, sinkers and pieces of dense foam. He also knew that he had been hidden inside Honey’s room while she, Trixie, Diana and Inga talked. What they had spoken of, he had no idea.
I know I went there to find out something. I did find it out, but now I can’t remember what it was. What did those girls do to me? he wondered, trying to clear the haze from his mind.
A stint of pacing the room, a cold shower and three strong cups of coffee did little to improve the situation. At the end of an hour and a half, Jim had to concede the fact that the memory was not going to return. He sank onto his bed and stared at the ceiling.
There must be some way of knowing what I was doing,he thought, trying to cast his mind back to the afternoon. What was I thinking when I decided to go in there? With an effort, he recalled the conversation he had overheard that afternoon. There had been something strange that Meldrick had said, during that terribly distasteful situation. Vampire-boy. I called him vampire-boy. Why would I do that? The answer, of course, was obvious. He was biting her on the neck. They said something about someone who could hear if somebody else was there. There was something else… something about the biting. A few minutes’ thought failed to produce the answer. There’s something strange about those girls, in any case. I need to find out what it is.
As he drifted off to sleep, Jim once again began to plan an investigation.
The following morning, the girls decided to take a ride on the horses. After the previous night’s experience, Jim was reluctant to follow, but he was determined to know the secret that the girls were hiding. He let them stay well in front of him all the way to the stables. As they saddled their horses, he remained outside, listening.
“I can’t believe this is our last morning together,” Honey could be heard to say. “This time tomorrow, I’ll be somewhere over the Atlantic.”
“You’re going to have a wonderful time,” Inga said, envy evident in her voice. “The year will fly past.”
“I kind of hope it will for you, too,” Honey replied, sounding uncertain. “I don’t want to cause problems between us, but I really need this.”
There was a silence, followed by the sound of horses’ hooves. The riders would, in a moment or two, emerge next to the neatly tended garden where Jim was standing. He took an extra step backwards, not wanting his feet to be trodden on as they passed.
Trixie was in the lead, a dark scowl on her face. Jim was so busy watching her that he almost missed the nervous start that her mare Susie gave before rearing high and tossing Trixie to the ground. A moment later, Honey came running.
“Trixie? Are you all right?”
There was a loud groan from the young woman on the ground. “Yeah, I think so,” she said. She sat up and began to survey the damage. “More tears in my clothes, but I’m not hurt.”
Jim watched in amazement as she picked some stray pebbles from the palms of her hands, leaving no mark at all. Next, she checked her elbows and the knee which was exposed by the torn jeans. There was not so much as a scratch on her anywhere.
“Oh, woe! How am I going to explain this one?” Trixie wailed. “Someone must have seen that.”
“I don’t think so,” Di said slowly, as she looked around. “I don’t see anyone near. Honey?”
A look of intense concentration appeared on his sister’s face and Jim held his breath. His lungs were burning by the time she said, “No, I don’t hear anything.”
“See? It’ll be fine, Trix,” Inga comforted her. “You can just say that the jeans tore. They’re old enough.”
“Have you ever told her about the time with the golf club?” Honey giggled. Trixie shook her head and Jim could see that she was not pleased. She stomped away to catch her horse. “This one time, at Lucy Camp,” Honey continued, despite her friend’s displeasure, “Trixie was dared to climb onto the roof of someone else’s cabin and scare them by making spooky noises. She was halfway up when one of the girls inside – her name is Paula – noticed and started screaming about burglars.” Honey paused to control her giggles. “The next thing Trixie knows, Paula’s attacking her with a golf club, hitting her everywhere she can reach. It took us ages to convince her that Trixie wasn’t a burglar. It took Trixie even longer to convince everyone that the reason she didn’t have a mark on her was that Paula had missed every single time!”
“And did they believe it?” Inga gasped.
“They had to,” said Honey, between fits of giggles. “What other explanation could there be?”
“If you’re finished laughing at me, can we get going?” asked Trixie, sounding impatient.
She had, by this time, caught Susie and led her back to the group. All of the horses seemed more nervous than usual. Jim took advantage of the noise they made to retreat to the relative safety of Regan’s office to await their departure.
The sound of the horses was fading into the distance and Jim was thinking that it was time to go when the telephone rang. Regan must have been somewhere very close by, for his large frame was blocking the doorway before Jim had the chance to escape. With a furtive look over his shoulder, he closed the door and turned the key in the lock.
“Yeah?” he said into the receiver.
Jim’s heart sank as the other man’s face took on a seductive look. When next he spoke, he voice had dropped and took on a different tone.
“Baby, you can call me anytime.… I’d love to spend your lay-over with you. … I’d like that. … You know what I’d like to do?”
Jim put his hands over his ears. This is even worse than Trixie and Meldrick, he thought, desperately looking for a means of escape. I’m going to go insane if I can’t think of a way out of this. He tried to fill his mind with something else and started counting backwards from one million.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine. Nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-eight. Nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-seven.
“Oh, baby!”
It was not working. Jim wondered if he could get away with unlocking and opening the door and just walking out.
“Mmm, I love it when you-”
From outside the door came a loud voice: “Regan? Are you here?”
The groom’s face turned a deep red and he said, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I’ve got to go. I’ll pick you up at the airport tonight. Okay?”
Regan gently replaced the receiver and unlocked the door. Before Jim could escape, his father entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“Have you got it?”
Regan simply nodded and reached for his desk drawer, unlocking it and retrieving a medium-sized package. He handed the bundle over without a word.
“You’ve told no one?”
“Of course not. You told me not to.”
Matthew Wheeler nodded and left the room. I don’t want to know what that was all about, thought Jim. The longer I stay here, the stranger things – and people - seem to get. Pushing those thoughts aside, he began to wonder if he would ever get the chance to leave the room. Regan was still standing in the way, hands on hips.
“Damned if I know what he wants with that,” he muttered aloud, alarming Jim so much that he almost lost his balance. His wildly flailing arms caught the edge of a folder on the shelf next to him and it slid sideways.
Regan looked over in surprise, but did not seem to be at all suspicious. He strode over and straightened the folder, narrowly missing standing on Jim’s bare toes. A moment later, he was gone. Jim practically ran out of the stables and back to his room, so glad he was to escape.
Back in his room, he quickly regained his clothes and became visible once more. Mindful of the previous night’s memory loss, he took out a notebook and pencil to take some notes.
‘Honey: can hear things that other people can’t,’ he wrote. ‘Trixie: doesn’t get a mark on her when she falls off a horse.’ Di didn’t do anything, he thought, tapping the pencil against the paper. Maybe she’s the one who did whatever it was to my memory last night. ‘Di: memory loss? Inga: got here after the incident; no powers?’
Unable to come up with any more clues, he tore out the page and stuffed it into his pocket. The last thing he needed was for someone to find these few jottings. If it were the girls, who knew what they might be able to do to him. If it were someone else, he could get the girls into a lot of trouble, or even danger.
What will I do now? he wondered. The girls won’t be back for some time yet. He cast his mind back to the previous day’s time at the lake and decided to take a swim. At least I won’t have Inga there to bother me this time.
The water of the lake sparkled in the sunlight. Jim ducked into the boathouse, in search of something to wear. He found an old pair of shorts and soon slipped into them. Next, he slathered on a decent amount of sunscreen from the dispenser on the wall. With skin as fair as his, he could take no chances when it came to getting burnt. Finally ready, he went back outside and dove cleanly into the water.
Free from the distractions which had been plaguing him since he got here, Jim relaxed and enjoyed the sensations of cool water and a gentle breeze. He let his mind go blank, turned onto his back and gazed up into a clear, blue sky. The tranquil moment passed and he started to swim, stretching his muscles and keeping his mind clear at the same time. Half an hour later, he returned to shore feeling refreshed.
He was in the middle of changing back into his clothes when he heard voices approaching. Without a thought, he stepped into a corner and became invisible, tucking his clothes out of sight. The boathouse door opened and the four girls entered, talking non-stop.
“… should have seen his face,” Inga was saying. “You’d think he’d never seen anything like it before.”
“Probably he hadn’t,” said Di in a voice that gave Jim shivers. The other three broke into uncontrollable giggles.
“Di! That’s so bad,” said Honey, sounding scandalised. “Of course he has. How could he not, considering, well, everything?”
“Are we getting changed, or not?” asked Trixie, shoving a bundle of swimsuits at her best friend, having already extracted her own. “I’m all sticky after our ride and I’d rather get cooled down than talk about him.”
“You’re so right, Trixie,” said Honey, sorting deftly through the pile. “Now that you mention it, I can’t wait to get in the water.”
Jim squeezed his eyes shut as Trixie pulled the T-shirt over her head. Now I’m in trouble, he thought, desperately trying not to imagine what he would see if he opened his eyes. How am I going to get out of here? Even if they leave the door open, I’d have to leave my clothes behind. I’d never fit through that window.
“Well, I don’t care what you all say,” said Di, apparently harking back to the previous topic. “I don’t think he-”
“Oh, please!” Trixie interrupted. “Not that, again! I don’t want to think about-”
“Stop!” laughed Honey. “See, this is why I need to get away. We need to widen our horizons. When I come back, I hope we won’t have this trouble anymore.”
“If you come back,” said Trixie, her fear evident in the brittle tone of her voice.
“Of course I’m coming back,” Honey soothed.
Jim heard the door open and ventured a quick peek. He was relieved to find that all four girls were fully dressed. Trixie was, to his horror, wearing a suit with a plunging neckline in a shade of peach that he had never seen her in before. He suppressed a shudder of revulsion.
“You all mean too much to me to stay away-” Honey continued, before the closing door cut off her voice from Jim’s hearing. He let out a groan and settled down for a long wait.
Almost an hour passed before the girls returned to the boathouse. This time, they seemed much more subdued.
“I hate last times,” said Trixie, sounding more than a little depressed. “Just think, it’ll be a whole year before we do this together again, maybe more. One of us might not be here when Honey comes back.”
In his corner, Jim forced his eyes closed as the four started to change. He longed for his own reality, where he never got stuck in such difficult situations, or had to listen to other people’s private conversations.
“We’ll keep in touch,” said Honey, sounding a little teary. “The months will fly past and just think of all the different things we can talk about then. We won’t have to talk about them at all, if we don’t want to. We can almost forget they exist.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” muttered Trixie. Her tone changed when next she spoke. “I’m going to miss you so much, Honey. I don’t know how I’ll stand it.”
“Oh, Trix!”
Jim could hear movements, presumably as the girls hugged, but dared not open his eyes. His legs ached from staying still so long and he fervently wished that the girls would leave so that he could get away.
“Is there someone nearby?” asked Di, suddenly.
A hush fell. Jim held his breath. He heard the door open and opened his eyes to find out what was happening. Honey was in the doorway, listening.
“Mart and Dan are somewhere fairly close,” she said, nodding to the right. “They’re talking about whether it’s better for a girl to have big boobs, or a pretty face.” The girls giggled, but Jim inwardly groaned. “There’s someone else approaching, but I’m not sure who. Might be Brian; might be Meldrick.”
“I wish you’d learn to tell the two of them apart,” Trixie grumbled. “I need to know whether I should hide or not.”
“I can’t help it if they have similar-sounding walks,” said Honey. “Anyway, you’ll have to learn to live without this when I go.”
“I know,” said Trixie, in a small voice. “Sorry, Hon.”
The four left the little building and closed the door behind them. Jim waited for a few minutes, then listened carefully, waiting to see if the girls had really gone. All was silence outside. Still being as quiet as possible, he opened the door and slipped out, almost colliding with Trixie in his haste. She was alone.
“How long have you been in there?” she asked, her expression a mixture of astonishment and suspicion.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know, really,” he said, cursing himself for the lie. “Not all that long.”
“Then, how did you get in?” Her face hardened. “Don’t answer that. It’s just one of your sneaky tricks. Typical. I suppose you were trying to find out what our plans were, so you could spoil them again.”
“I’m not interested in your plans,” he said, quietly. “I’m sorry that I offended you, Trixie. Excuse me.”
Trixie’s eyes narrowed. In a flash, she had caught him by the wrist in a grip that threatened to break bones. Her eyes searched him. “Who are you?” she demanded, giving the arm she held a little shake. “Jim would never say something like that. At least, not since…”
“Uh, I am Jim, really,” he stuttered. The pain intensified. “Do you think you could let go of my arm? I think you’re cutting off the circulation.”
She threw his arm back at him, eliciting a cry of pain as it connected with his chest. “So, explain. Who are you and how did you get here?”
“It’s a little difficult to explain,” he said, unthinkingly echoing Brian. “The other night, I was asleep in my bed and I woke up to find me leaning over myself. He pushed me through the wall and I ended up here. Not that I want to be here,” he hastily added. “If Brian ever sends me home, I doubt you’ll see me again. I have no intention of coming back.”
“Which night?”
“The night before last,” he replied, after a moment’s careful thought. “It seems like a lot longer.”
“So, what were you doing in the boathouse?”
“That was an accident, really,” he replied. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” He paused, knowing that he really needed to confess. “Actually, I have eavesdropped on you a few times, most of them unintentionally. I won’t say anything about what I learned, though. You can trust me to do that, at least.”
There was a glimmer of understanding in her eyes and he knew that she had read the subtle meaning behind his words. Despite the differences he had seen in her, she was still essentially the same as she had always been.
“You know? It’s only taken you two days to discover our secret?” she asked, incredulous. “The Jim who lives here has had two years and still hasn’t managed it.” She shook her head with regret. “Things were a whole lot better before.”
“Could you explain a couple of things to me?” Jim asked, suddenly deciding to take a chance. “I saw you fall off the horse and come away without a scratch, but I don’t quite get what it is that you can do.”
Trixie sighed heavily. “I just knew someone would see that,” she said, almost to herself. “Since… that day, I’ve been kind of,” she bit her lip before continuing, “bullet-proof. No matter what happens to me, my skin doesn’t get damaged.”
“I can see how that would be useful,” he replied. “Especially given your tendency towards dangerous situations.”
“Useful? It’s almost impossible to live with! Can you imagine the sorts of excuses I’ve had to come up with the explain this? I cry out with pain and someone says, ‘Let me see,’ but there’s not the slightest mark. You should have heard the outcry the time I actually got grazed by a bullet. I thought I’d never live it down.”
“Useful, but inconvenient at the same time,” he conceded with a smile.
“Anyway,” she continued, “at the same time, I got more of a sense of where the bad guys are, so I don’t get into dangerous situations anywhere near as often. Just as well,” she added, “since Brian and Jim seem to have lost all common sense. They couldn’t save me if someone wrote them out instructions.”
“I had noticed that about Brian,” he agreed. “Tell me about Di. I know she made me lose my memory the other night, but what exactly is her ability?”
“Hypnotic suggestion,” Trixie said with a wide grin. “She gets this dreamy quality in her voice and people do whatever she tells them to. It’s freaky.”
“And Honey has extra-sensitive hearing?”
“Two days to get all that,” Trixie muttered. “No wonder I like you better than the regular Jim.” Suddenly, she grinned. “Show me how you become invisible.”
“You know about that? Brian said that you didn’t,” he told her, with the glimmer of a smile. His feeling of superiority over this reality’s Brian instantly doubled.
“Brian’s deductive processes have been replaced by excess muscle. Of course we know. We’ve known almost the whole time. Dan learning to fly was the funniest. Just like that show, The Greatest American Hero.”
Laughing softly at the thought, Jim slipped into invisibility. Trixie’s face was split by a huge grin as she watched the transformation. After a few moments, he returned to his usual state.
“So, there you go,” he said, a little self-consciously.
Trixie’s smiled softened, becoming bittersweet. “I miss this,” she sighed. “If you here had stayed like you…”
“From what I’ve heard of him, I really don’t like the ‘me’ who’s usually here,” he said. “I’m glad we’ve had this talk. You’ve explained more in the last two minutes than Brian has in two days.” A thought occurred to him. “You’ll let me remember, this time, won’t you?”
“If you promise not to tell anyone in this reality,” she said, with a nod.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, giving one of her curls a tug and adding the words of the promise. “Those of us with the common sense need to stick together.”
“Thanks, Jim,” she replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. A moment later, she was gone.
Slowly, and deep in thought, Jim returned to the Manor House. That’s settled, he thought. Now, all I want is to go home.
“Wake up.”
The voice had the quality of a recurrent dream. Jim tried to ignore it.
“Wake up,” it repeated, this time with exasperation. “Can’t you ever wake up when I need you to?”
Jim opened his eyes to find his double leaning over him. “What is it this time?” he demanded.
“Time for you to go home,” said the other Jim. “I chased Slim into Conneticutt. There’s a warrant outstanding for his arrest there and he got caught.”
“But in my world, Slim’s in jail in New York.”
“So?” asked the other Jim, in a maddeningly casual tone. “He deserves to be in jail twice.”
Jim shook his head and climbed out of bed. There was no sense arguing with his other self. By all appearances, he had as little common sense as Brian did here.
“I’m more than ready to go home,” he said, looking his other self eye to eye, “but before I go, a word of advice.” He paused, considering the wisdom of the suggestion he was about to make.
“Yes?”
“You need to give the girls more credit. You and Brian have treated them terribly. It’s no wonder they don’t like you anymore. Tell them about your powers; you might be surprised at the outcome.”
“Brian says that every time,” the other Jim muttered. “I’ll think about it. Time for you to go.”
Before Jim had time to respond, his other self had shoved him through the swirling patch on the wall and he was once more in his own room. More than a few things were out of place and there was a strange smell emanating from the area under the bed, but Jim knew with a certainty that this was his home. To make extra sure, he walked over to the mirror and stared at his reflection while he thought inconspicuous thoughts. Nothing happened. The image still had the regular quantity of conspicuous red hair. A smile spread across his face and he thought, I’m really home.
The following morning, Jim raced through his breakfast in order to see Trixie at the first available opportunity. He reached Crabapple Farm in time to meet her going out the back door. There was a guarded expression on her face as she caught sight of him and his heart sank. Damn! I forgot about alternate-Jim. What has that idiot been doing here? he wondered.
“Trixie? Can we talk?” he asked, stopping short to give her some space.
Instead of an answer, she stepped forward and grasped his face, tilting his head to one side. Whatever she saw satisfied her, to some extent, and he relaxed slightly. Her next words caused him to rethink that position.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “What’s been happening the last couple of days? It was like you weren’t you, any more.”
“I wasn’t,” he said, feeling that words were inadequate to describe what he had been through. “I didn’t intend to go and I hope it never happens again and I’m so sorry that I didn’t get a chance to tell you beforehand.”
As he spoke, the anger and suspicion drained away from her face to be replaced by forgiveness and a glimmering of curiosity. There was another emotion, just beneath the surface but, before he could figure out what it was, she was in his arms.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said, relief making her voice sound breathy. “Oh, Jim, I’m so glad you’re back.”
“It’s good to see you, too,” he said with a smile, still holding her close.
“I just knew that there was no such thing as the Men-Only Bicycle Riders Association.”
Jim groaned. “Do I want to know what he did while I was away?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied, grinning widely. “Tell me where you’ve been, though.”
“You’re not going to believe this,” he said, leading her away from the house to the relative privacy of the preserve. “It all started when I heard a voice telling me to wake up…”
The End
Return to Janice’s Odds and Ends Page.
End notes: This is a CWP 6, from version 1 of the CWPs. Elements are: Jim's harmonica (in his box of odds and ends), a lay-over (overheard Regan), someone named 'Slim' (bad guy), the word 'frisky' (thought by Jim about Inga), Lum's Hee-haw overalls (in the same box as the harmonica), stolen towels (in the same box), a BWG singing against their will (Jim, in the rowboat), any song from Bob-White Cave ('Row, row, row your boat'), the words 'This one time at Lucy Camp…' (Jim overhears Honey), the words 'I rode Dan' were replaced by a dairy product from CWP3 (milk in Honey's coffee) under the element replacement rule. Carry-over items were: a seecrud (CWP5), a single sock (CWP4), a mouldy piece of fruit (CWP3), a make-up mirror (CWP2) and mention or presence of a secondary character from the books (CWP1).
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