Second Chances

In the grand scheme of things it is not that unusual to find a bird inhabiting one's sink. When compared to all of the other strange and wonderful things the world presents us with it is relatively mundane. 

Houses have windows. Birds enjoy bathing in water and flying into said windows. 

So it stands to reason that on a few rare occasions a bird will fly towards a window that is, much to the bird’s surprise, quite open. This bird, upon realizing that it is indoors, will invariably see a sink filled with water and decide to take a nice bath. Alan Morris had accepted this fact long ago and so when he rounded the corner of his kitchen and saw a Dodo bird sitting in his sink, his first reaction was not surprise, but excitement. 

“Darwin!?” He smiled wide and turned back down the hall, “Elliot, Darwin has returned!” The bird cocked it’s head towards him at the sound of its name.

“That’s great Dad!”, an eager voice rose up out of the basement. “I’ll say hi when I’m done.”

Alan returned to the kitchen and pulled his defrosted chicken out from under the bird which had nested itself upon the carcass like a protective mother. The dodo eyed the deceased poultry with suspicion. It had not survived this long without caution. “Oh calm down Darwin, I won’t be eradicating a species for lunch today.” Alan said with a laugh. “Now off with you, shoo, go find Elliot I have a feast to prepare!” He waved his hands towards the dodo which squawked its annoyance, hopped out of the sink, and fell to the floor with all the grace of a wet mop. The world is hard for a flightless bird.

The short silence in the kitchen was broken by the stirring first notes of the Jurassic Park theme, cutting through the air. Alan had re-programed the oven five years ago to play the piece when it was done preheating. The music helped calm him when dinner was behind and the guests were early. Of course it didn’t hurt that he had met dinosaurs in real life. He placed the chicken in the pan along with his cut vegetables and stepped back to admire his handiwork. It was an old recipe that he’d picked up from a very nice woman in Pompeii. The key was to grow the vegetables in volcanic ash, a difficult but very rewarding process. 

His admiration was broken by a loud bang coming up from below. The hair on Alan’s arms stood on end and an electric buzz filled the house. All of the pots and pans hanging in the kitchen hovered slightly as if they were being pulled towards the basement. “Dad, I think I found it!” Elliot’s voice cut through the static. Alan turned the oven off, bolted down the hallway, and flung open the door to the basement. A warm purple glow bathed the hall for a moment before the door closed behind him.

Elliot turned and smiled brightly at the sight of his father. In front of him a large, circular, purple gateway hovered in space. A shimmering window that crackled with electricity, projected from the small globe in Elliot’s hands. The inside of the circle opened up into a basement identical to the one Alan and Elliot stood in now. 

“Are you sure it’s the right place?”, Alan exclaimed as he rushed over to Elliot’s side and grabbed the globe out of his hands. The globe was smooth on all sides except for the small projector hole in the front. A pair of keys shot out of Alan’s pocket and stuck to the side.

“I don’t know, I think so, I was concentrating on Mom, picturing her face. Then I started thinking about how much I miss her and this circle popped out!”

“Fascinating! It must respond to emotional stimuli and not the thoughts themselves. This is very good, well done Elliot!” Alan patted his son on the back and beamed with pride, the purple circle reflected in his large spectacles. “Just imagine the discoveries available to us now that we can control it. Have you started the clock?”

Elliot nodded and pointed at the large digital display hanging behind him. It showed fifty minutes remaining and counting. Alan adjusted his glasses and stepped up to the circle. 

“Do you think you’ll find her?” Elliot asked hopefully.

“I certainly hope so”, Alan’s wide smile dropped for a moment, his hands reached out and touched the circle. Ripples spread out from his fingers, each one crackling with purple bolts of energy that reached out towards Alan’s arms, pulling him in. His feet lifted off of the ground and with a loud popping sound he vanished. Elliot turned away from the circle, his eyes glued to the clock.

Purple static drifted in front of Alan’s eyes as he looked around at the familiar basement in front of him. His basement, the same one he had left behind except for no Elliot or strange orb. He turned to look behind him, the circle was still there, thankfully. His watch read the same time as before, the second hand clicking softly in a clockwise direction. Well thank goodness for that, Alan sighed with relief. The last dimension had been a little odd with time. Soft footsteps sounded through the basement, coming from above. Alan crouched down and crept over to the stairs, peeking around the corner to see a door with a soft beam of light coming through it. The footsteps moved across the house and he heard a door slam. Silence. Alan waited and listened for any other noises, nothing. He took off his shoe and banged it on a nearby pipe, the loud clang reverberated through the house, no movement. Satisfied, he ascended the stairs and emerged into his hallway. 

It looked to be the same structurally but the decor was different. Where there had been gadgets and culturally significant junk was now just photos, family photos. There were some that he recognized, all from his wife’s side of the family, but most of them were strangers. He moved quickly towards the kitchen and checked his watch, noting with disappointment that he had very little time. The hallway ended and he was back in the kitchen which was unbearably clean and tidy. Unmistakably Rebecca’s handiwork, it was like looking at an old photo album, the spices were alphabetized as well as the food. From bananas on the left side of the kitchen to zucchini on the right. A photo on the kitchen table caught his eye, it was another family, two kids, a very stuffy looking husband, and Rebecca. She looked the same in every way, down to the tedious precision with which she straightened her hair. Alan took his hand and covered up the other faces in the photo, looking only at her. Looking for a reason to bring her with him, a sadness in the eyes, a forced smile, but there was nothing. She looked happy.

A small creaking noise broke him away from the photo and he turned to see Rebecca, looking confused and scared, staring at him from the front entryway. A boy peeked out from behind her legs and waved at him, Alan gave a small wave back, “Um, hello, your husband called about a plumber? He said to come on in, I’m terribly sorry to have startled you.”

Rebecca slowly put her bags down, maintaining eye contact. “You need to please leave my house. We did not schedule a plumber and you have no tools.”

“Well it was worth a shot,” Alan shrugged. He glanced up at the clock above the door. “Oh my, time really flies here doesn’t it? I suppose I had better get to the point, although I have a feeling my timing has been quite miserable. This situation is just not conducive to a successful venture, as much as it pains me to say. However, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Am I right?” He looked expectantly at Rebecca, much like how a pet owner looks at their cat after asking if it loves them. Rebecca, like the cat, was very confused and annoyed.

“What on earth are you talking about? I’m calling the police.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a phone.

“Wait!” Alan held his hands up. “Do you love him?” He pointed at the man in the family photo.

“My husband? Why, what have you done to him?”

“Nothing! I’ve never met the man I would just like to know, he seems a little uptight.” Alan grasped for some levity.

Rebecca was staring daggers at him, he really missed that look. “That’s none of your business but I did marry him didn’t I? He has every reason to be uptight with the job that he has.” Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “Are you a foreign agent? KGB?”

Alan looked down at his khaki shorts, knee high socks, and several pockets worth of various buttons, rocks, coins, and stamps. “Yes,” he said dryly, “I’m KGB.”

“Well I don’t know what spies look like,” she started dialing, “but that’s besides the point. I don’t know you and my patience has run out.”

Alan’s hands dropped, defeated. “I see.” A small smile crossed his face. “You may not understand this but it has been an absolute joy to talk to you, to be around you again. I’ve missed you, Elliot misses you, and I will get to be with you again. I love you.”

His words went unnoticed as Rebecca relayed her address to the police. The boy was still staring at him from behind her legs. Alan winked in the boy’s direction, “You take care of her young man, your mom is a special woman.” He looked back at Rebecca, “I will see you soon.”

“The police are on their way,” Rebecca hung up the phone. “So unless you want to see a jail cell I’d suggest you run.”

Alan pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled wide. “Excellent idea.” He turned and began briskly walking back down the hall.

“No! Stop! That’s the opposite of what I want. Get out of my house.” Rebecca reached into the closet and pulled out a baseball bat.

“Yes, yes, I know don’t worry I’ll be gone soon.” Alan turned dismissively and saw the bat. His face went white. “Oh dear.”

Alan Morris was not an athletic man by any metric and he was known to say, quite proudly, that the only muscle worth exercising was the brain. That was all well and good when dealing with strange portal devices but at the moment, as he ducked a swing from his baseball bat wielding wife, he wished he was faster and dumber. A disconcertingly close gust of air near the back of his calf quickened his pace as he bolted through the door and practically leaped down the stairs. He stumbled and started to fall but caught himself and, with what was left of his momentum, hurled himself through the portal. 

Alan came hurtling out of the circle, landing face first on the ground in front of a surprised Elliot. He jumped up and grabbed the orb which, upon leaving Elliot’s hands, went cold and dark. The circle imploded without a sound and the basement was plunged into dark silence.

“Are you okay Dad?” Elliot’s voice broke the silence.

“Oh yes I just need a minute. Your father is not a runner.” Alan gasped from his seat on the stairs as he flipped a switch and the power returned to the basement. Elliot put the orb on a desk and sat down next to him.

“Did you find Mom?” Elliot looked up at his father expectantly.

Alan smiled and shook his head. “I did, sort of, but she wasn’t the right version.”

“Oh, that sucks.” Elliot stared at his feet. “So she didn’t want to come home?”

“She had a home, with a different family who she loved very much.” Alan pat his son on the back and hopped up excitedly. “But we must not lose hope my boy! There are thousands of realities still undiscovered. Somewhere out there is a version of your mother who knows who we are and wants us back. And now that you know how to use that device the power is in our hands.” He jogged over to the desk and tossed the orb to Elliot. “We just need to find the reality where she needs us, as much as we need her.”