Memories from a Different Future: Jump When Ready, Book 2 Read online

  “Nikki’s a name?” Peter said.

  “Sure, Nikki’s a name,” Lisa said. She turned to Ian. “Hey, do you know anyone named—” She stopped, seeing his expression. “Wait, do you?”

  Ian shook his head as if to wake himself up. “What? No.”

  “Then, what happened?” Lisa said. “You looked like you just saw a ghost or something.”

  Ian reached for his beer and took a long drink. “I don’t know. It was weird. But for like just a moment I totally felt like I knew someone with that name. But I definitely don’t.”

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m totally done,” Peter said.

  “Um, yeah, me too,” Brent said. “I’m going with Adventure Time Monopoly from now on.”

  2

  I Feel You

  Emilio accepted the joint from Diego and took a hit he didn’t need and didn’t want. There’d been a time when smoking weed had seemed to offer a new clarity, a way of seeing things in a way he hadn’t before. Back when he’d been thirteen—when he’d first become one of the South Enders—that imagined clarity had allowed him to envision a future much different from this one. Suddenly, he’d felt like a man, hanging out with other men when not long before they would have chased him off while making jokes about little bros being a pain in the ass. “Mealy, shoo, bro,” Marcos used to say. At least he’d smiled saying it and there had been kindness behind the smile. There had been no kindness behind the others’ laughter.

  Now, Emilio was the big bro to Javier and Marcos had been a year in the ground. Emilio exhaled, contributing to the cloud of smoke drifting up to the ceiling, and considered that maybe the weed still offered clarity. In fact, maybe it was that perspective he kept hoping to avoid. The weed enhanced what he knew to be true. He didn’t want this anymore—the pointless anger, the ridiculous pride in being ignorant, the perpetual confrontations. The complete lack of any future. The world had expanded considerably since Emilio was thirteen. He’d seen way past what he’d once thought to be everything, realizing the territory defended by the South Enders was a very small place in that larger world. It had both amazed and disgusted Emilio to learn that the gang had been defending the same territory since the 1990s. Over forty years of the same shit and nothing had changed in all that time.

  The world had also shrunk, in a huge way but just by one person. Although sometimes Emilio imagined still hearing him. “Hey, Mealy, you need to get out. Do you hear me, bro?” And Emilio would imagine answering, “I can’t. How can I?”

  “Homes, what’s up?”

  Emilio snapped out of it. He passed the joint to Ramiro and met Diego’s eyes, which were always suspicious, always wary and too curious for comfort.

  “Nothing,” Emilio said. “Do we have a problem?” He smiled to pad the tough words. Always that needed balancing act, especially with Diego.

  Diego shrugged but stared. “I don’t know. Do we have a problem, bro?”

  “Just chilling,” Emilio said.

  Diego studied Emilio for another moment, then said. “I feel you. So, maybe you’re getting yourself ready? Manning up?”

  Emilio narrowed his eyes and nodded. His tough man look, the one he’d learned from Marcos years ago. Marcos had eventually let on that he’d learned it from watching old Dirty Harry movies on TV late at night. Dude, watch the thing he does with his eyes. And his mouth, little bro. Who’s gonna mess with that mother—

  “Mealy, you can handle it no problem. It takes like two minutes. We got your back, homes.”

  Luciano meant the words to be reassuring, Emilio knew. No big deal, just another rite of passage. Like when he’d been dropped off in Devil Kingz territory. Sure, just over the line but he’d only been fourteen. He’d found himself surrounded within minutes but, just by pure luck, by kids about his own age. He’d scrapped his way out and the South Enders had his back when he hit the boundary. Then the tables turned. Feet flew in the opposite direction. Blood hit the road and sidewalk. More than a few cried out, “Mama!” Scars were born.

  “Yeah, Luce,” Emilio said. “I got this.”

  Diego laughed. Emilio had come to know that Diego never laughed when something was actually funny. For Diego, laughter was more of a bark, a noise made to draw attention.

  “Mealy is going to be a man next week,” Diego said. “Sixteen and you’re in for life. Right, bro?”

  Emilio glanced at the others, the four of them together just a small fraction of the South Enders, looking to survive, to prove themselves. Not a problem having someplace to go, though. Like today, they could hang at one of their drab, cold apartments after school because both parents worked—if there were two parents, which was pretty rare. Emilio now realized how the world worked, as well as his place in it. Marcos had once convinced him that it was all okay, that everyone went hungry on some nights, that having three rooms total was normal. A kindness. But “Shoo, bro,” meant something different now. Get away. Get out. Although sometimes Emilio imagined Marcos still saying it, his eyes always kind.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Emilio said. “Like I said, I’ve got this.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” Diego said.

  Emilio forced himself to look into those eyes again. “You’ll be the first to know, homes.”

  “Better be,” Diego said.

  ~~~

  It hadn’t been like anyone recruited Emilio into the South Enders. Marcos had taken care of that just by being Marcos. He’d been up and coming, a future hero, his rep earned through battle both inside the gang and out. Marcos had been fearless. Never once had he backed down, never once lost—not if losing meant giving up. Emilio remembered watching him take beatings from which he kept rising to his feet, coming back for more. Maybe he’d lose that round eventually but Emilio saw the fear in the eyes of the winners even as they grinned victorious. They knew their victory would be short-lived. Marcos was just too tough, too strong. They might have a year, or a few months, before the rematch. Marcos would just keep getting bigger and more skilled. Which is exactly what Marcos did. So, it wasn’t like anyone was going to argue against Emilio joining the gang. If that’s what Marcos wanted, then that’s how it was going to be.

  Diego had been Marcos’ wingman, homies since elementary school where they’d formed a bond to survive. Diego had never been as tough, never quite as smart, but always clever and dangerous with an ear to the ground. Seemingly a good friend to have, one who listened to the chatter and watched Marcos’ back. Except, Diego had missed some of that chatter. Maybe. After all, Diego had existed in Marcos’ shadow. Emilio sometimes wondered if Diego had been ready to emerge from beneath that shadow. Impossible to prove, but when Marcos fell, suddenly Emilio found himself in a new light of his own. One where the other homies started to look at him differently. Was he made of the same stuff as Marcos? What had he ever done to prove himself?

  ~~~

  Emilio opened the door to his apartment knowing he’d find Javier staring at the screen. Seven years old, alone and waiting for his big bro to get home and make him some dinner. Emilio’s mother didn’t have a choice. She worked two jobs, standing behind a fast food register during the day and waiting tables at night. Still, it was just barely enough to keep the lights on and Emilio should have been home an hour ago.

  All the same, Javier’s face lit up. No judgment. “Hey, Emilio! How’s it going?”

  Emilio peeled off his jacket, thought about tossing it onto the sofa, then hung it on a peg by the door. Mama’s rules. Even Marcos had obeyed those rules.

  “Doing okay, little bro,” Emilio said. “What’s up, watching Time Bender?” Emilio glanced at the old screen, not even part of the wall. A portable relic with no feed, just the drive and same media files he grew up on—the free library downloads Marcos had once watched too.

  “Yeah,” Javier said. “Did you see this one?”

  Emilio pretended to watch a few seconds of an episode he’d seen at least twenty times. “Maybe,” he said. “Yeah, I think maybe
I did. Are you hungry?”

  That definitely caught Javier’s attention. “Mama said there’s still some chicken! Can you make it?”

  “Yeah, little bro,” Emilio said. “Then we do your homework, okay?”

  Javier sighed. “Really? Do we have to?”

  “Yes, we have to. It’s important. So you get super smart. Feel me?”

  Javier nodded, eyes full of trust. “Feel you. I’m hungry.”

  “Yeah, I know, little dude. I’m on it.”

  ~~~

  Later that night, Emilio got Javier ready for bed and then sat next to him, stretching his own legs out on the mattress. “Head on the pillow and I’ll read,” he said.

  Javier slid down next to him and settled in.

  Emilio read to him from one of the old Wimpy Kid books that had once been his and once belonged to Marcos. A total fantasy, he knew, but sometimes he imagined Marcos smiling. Saying things like, I loved that story, bro! When I was little. When I was still alive! Do you feel me?

  Emilio knew it was totally his imagination but he still answered silently. I feel you.

  When Javier fell asleep, Emilio went out to the kitchen. Later, he’d sleep in the bed next to Javier’s. His bed had once belonged to Marcos. Javier’s bed had once belonged to Emilio. Javier had once slept in bed next to his mother and a father who’d been gone long enough that Javier had forgotten he’d ever been around.

  Now that he was finally alone, Emilio did his homework. The South Enders would laugh their asses off if they knew but he never handed it in when they could see. He never handed it in on time either, just in case. Still, he completed it when it was assigned. That mattered to him, even if he was the only one who knew.

  No, it’s good, bro. Do that. Do it for yourself. Do it for Javier. Do it for Mama. I’m proud of you, Mealy. Those were the words he imagined Marcos saying. But sometimes Emilio didn’t feel like he imagined those words. Sometimes, he felt like Marcos stood right next to him even though that was impossible.

  ~~~

  Emilio went to bed that night thinking about what had to happen. Basically, it amounted to the same thing as taking another hit off that joint that kept going around even though he didn’t want it any more. This shit never stopped and never would. Emilio had been looking at all the angles for a while now and so far he’d come up with nothing. Maybe after, he could walk away. Once he stared back at the rest of the South Enders with eyes even slightly close to being as steely as Marcos’ eyes had once been. Not likely, but maybe.

  As he lay in the dark, Emilio told himself that all it took was a gun and a few minutes. It meant nothing, just a joke, basically. An initiation they all went through. As he started to drift off, Emilio thought about all those lucky kids who’d grown up with so much more and never once stopped to imagine that people like him existed. To them, he and Javier might as well be as invisible as Marcos. So, that’s where he would go, he decided. He might as well visit the nice side of town on his birthday. Besides, if he had to go through with this whole deal he might as well try to get something out of it for himself.

  3

  Doors Opening

  Nikki took the ramp, tucked the board, slapped down, caught her balance and raced toward the next curve of the skate park bowl. She didn’t look back to see how far behind Henry and Jamie might be. She didn’t have to. She’d gained enough of a lead that this deal was basically done. They didn’t have a chance now.

  “Oh, come on,” she heard Jamie say, now approaching the ramp she’d just left behind. “You have to be freaking kidding me!”

  A smile spread across Nikki’s face, her right foot pumping against concrete, her left balancing the board as she continued to build momentum.

  “I’ve got this!” Henry said. “Get out of my way!”

  “Yeah, whatever!” Jamie said. “How about you get out of mine?”

  Nikki couldn’t help laugh as she heard them struggling to catch up. Sure, they’d been to this skate park a thousand times and she’d just finally been invited to join them. Naturally, they’d been confident that she’d be looking to them to show her the ropes. And she had for the first hour or so, but it wasn’t long before she had most of it down. After all, she’d spent half of her last life honing her strength and agility as a dancer. Had they really thought their time spent casually gliding around on wheels could compare? Sure, they had the basic skills down and some nifty tricks. But where was the discipline, the commitment? Yeah, exactly. Pretty much what she’d figured the whole time. After all, how much did Henry and Jamie take seriously?

  Ironically, the competition had been their idea. Typical for boys, of course, and they’d definitely assumed one of them would be first to complete six laps. Seeing as she was about ten yards out now from the finish line, Nikki suspected this show was over. She knew it was over when she heard them collide, wipe out and start swearing at each other. Oh, well. Live and learn, right? Or, die and learn. Same thing, weirdly.

  The fact was, Nikki had only been curious about seeing the place they kept disappearing to all the time. Henry and Jamie had created it together, so the invitation had been needed, but originally she hadn’t been sure she’d even get on a board. Now, she smirked as she spun and turned to look back. She watched as Henry and Jamie picked themselves up.

  “Beginners luck,” Jamie said, preening his mohawk back into place.

  “I was seriously gaining,” Henry said. “Another few seconds and I would have—”

  “Still lost,” Nikki said.

  Henry pretended to consider, then shrugged. “True, but not by as much.”

  Henry’s eyes met Nikki’s and she forced herself to maintain a neutral expression. She did allow the corner of her mouth to rise just a little, enough that she knew Henry would smile. Sure enough, he smiled. Henry was Henry, after all. Some things in afterlife remained the same and Nikki appreciated that consistency.

  Nikki was long past questioning so many aspects of this realm she’d come to think of as home. After all, people on Earth just accepted that the sun would rise and that night would fall. That was the natural order of things. Obviously, time moved way differently here—to the point where time itself barely mattered. Sure, it used to disorient her but that had mostly been during the years when she’d kept crossing over. Back when she’d watched her parents, and then her sister, slip away. After that, she hadn’t looked back. She’d only been torturing herself and it hadn’t benefitted anyone. It hadn’t been until Henry arrived to join them that she’d found the courage to make that leap again. And it had paid off, no doubt about it. They’d rescued Henry’s sister. They’d saved—or at least, prolonged—a life. Still, that had been almost twenty years ago, Earth time. Where Nikki lived, maybe a few months. At least, that’s what it felt like.

  “What next?” Henry dusted himself off. “Maybe the woods? Or how about the pond? You know, someplace relaxing.”

  Nikki missed the pond. They hadn’t gone there much since saving Bethany. Henry went there sometimes, she knew. Well, she didn’t know for sure. But he went somewhere, just slipped totally off the radar. She shouldn’t care. After all, why would she? Nikki asked that of herself too frequently lately. It scared her, this change, this caring, in a place where she’d long thought it couldn’t happen. Maybe shouldn’t happen? What kind of doors might that caring open? Big doors, she suspected. Doors that couldn’t be crossed through again. At least, not at the time of her choosing.

  “I was thinking about maybe laying on the beach for a while,” Jamie said. “Not that I’m tired or any—”

  “White water rafting.” Nikki looked Henry in the eye. Not nice, she knew. Mean, even, considering that he’d drowned last time around. Was she trying to push him away?

  “Okay, sure,” Henry said. “Show me.”

  It wasn’t lost on Nikki that Henry said, “Show me” rather than “us.”

  “No issues, River Rat?”

  Henry stared at her, eyes smiling. Sure, keep testing me, his eyes sa
id. Keep trying. I’m in, no matter what. Nikki looked away. “Jamie?”

  “Nice,” Jamie said. “New one. Let’s do it.”

  They picked up their boards and walked toward their bikes. Something they’d agreed upon, at least for now, was that it just felt right walking or riding their bikes together. Technically, they could be driving cars now—or flying jets, for that matter—but none of them had gotten their driver’s license in their last life. For now, they remained teenagers continually poised on adulthood. Still, Nikki wondered how long it might remain that way. She kept trying to resist thinking about it but couldn’t quite manage doing so lately. Kids grew up. They graduated from high school, they left home and went to college. They fell in love, fell out of love, then fell in love again. They got married, then—

  “So, the white water place,” Jamie said, pedaling along beside her. “Was it somewhere you knew? You never mentioned it.”

  Nikki swerved her bike just enough at Jamie that he almost went off the path. “That’s because I grew up in southern California. Not a whole lot of white water going on there.”

  “So, you just thought of it?” Henry said, from her other side.

  “Yep. I’m thinking we should have a race.”

  “We’re screwed,” Jamie said.

  ~~~

  Simon and Naomi stared at the three of them as they entered the kitchen, soaked and dripping water onto the floor. The addition of the kitchen to Halfway House had been a recent mutual decision, partly because it gave them someplace else to hang out but mostly because Naomi had become interested in learning how to bake. She wasn’t likely to develop her new skill if their only option remained the food court, where whatever they wanted appeared at will. As it happened, the aroma of baking cookies wafted through the relatively small space they’d decided upon.

  “What the hell, mates?” Simon said.

  Jamie gestured at Nikki. “Her idea.”

  Simon thought for a moment. “Get caught in a squall?” He took another look at Jamie’s Mohawk, which now resembled a dead bird laying on his skull. “Maybe a hurricane?”