The New York Retreat Weekend

Maggie looked behind her again. The sidewalk was empty. But she was sure she’d heard footsteps. The feeling had been with her since she got off the train at Penn Station for her annual theatre re-charge weekend in New York with her soul mate Iris.

There are just a lot of people here, she told herself, compared to Eugene, Oregon. So, it makes sense that you’d feel someone behind you.

The trouble with that was that no one was there. An empty sidewalk in New York was a strange thing, and most unusual. She stopped under one of the sad, dust-encrusted trees planted into the sidewalk. Waiting there, she finally saw a couple of people wandering her way. But the nicely dressed man and the woman in business wear with sneakers kept on going without even giving her a glance.

Finally, she started off again. She was meeting her friend Iris for dinner before their play. Iris had checked into their hotel room before she got there and had gone out. Shopping, no doubt, Maggie told herself. It was what Iris did best. Maggie had been surprised that Iris hadn’t left any luggage in the room, especially since she usually brought two or three times what she needed. Maybe she got there too early and left the bags with the bellhop.

After another long block had gone by, she could see the restaurant ahead. There was a line outside. Good thing we have a reservation, she thought. Then the strange feeling hit her again.

She whirled around. Nothing. This is ridiculous, Maggie. Let it go.

It took her another five minutes to reach the restaurant and make her way to the hostess stand. She looked into the dark recesses full of tables but didn’t see Iris.

The hostess finally got to her. “I have a reservation in the name of Maggie Watson,” she said.

The hostess looked over the list in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t have a Watson here. Could it be under another name?”

Maggie was surprised. She’d made the reservation herself. “I don’t think so but try Iris Graham.”

The hostess looked again. “No, ma’am. And we’re fully booked tonight. Sorry.” She looked over Maggie’s head. “Next,” she called out.

Maggie stepped back, her head swirling. What the …?

She arrived back into the late afternoon sun confused and concerned, wondering what to do now. She started walking, letting her mind wander. Iris must be here. She texted when she landed. Pulling out her cell phone, Maggie dialed Iris’s number.

“I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message.”

“Iris, where are you? I was at the restaurant. They don’t have our reservation. I don’t know what to do. Please call me as soon as you can.”

Putting the phone back into her purse, Maggie realized she was across the street from Central Park. She let the crowd surround her and push her across to its border. There were benches everywhere although many were occupied. She picked a vacant one and sat down to wait and think.

The trip out had been uneventful except for some bad turbulence over Chicago. She had noticed a tornado warning for the area before she left. The train from Newark into Penn Station was also uneventful. And even getting into the hotel room went without a hitch. Iris had texted her the number and Maggie had asked for the key at the desk. All normal except for the lack of Iris’s luggage. Then came the restaurant. And Iris’s disappearance.

That feeling returned suddenly. She was alone on the bench, sitting against the right-side arm rest. But she could sense something on her left. She’d always had an ability to sense things that weren’t obvious. She got that from her grandmother who had sent help to her grandfather when he was caught in a hay bailer all alone. How she knew, no one ever figured out. She just did.

And Maggie just did feel someone next to her. She turned. “Who or what are you?”

 she asked. The air shimmered slightly but there was no sound. Then her phone got a text.

It’s me, Iris. I’m here and I can tell you’re there, but I can’t see you. I can hear you at least.

Maggie gasped. “How is that possible?”

I don’t know. Everything here is normal. I waited in the hotel lobby, but you walked right past me. I followed you to the restaurant. I know they told you we had no reservation but when I asked, they found it and wanted to seat me. I told them no and ran after you. And here we are. Sort of.

“Holy moly, Iris,” Maggie replied. “I knew someone was following me. Why can’t I see you and why am I suddenly not in sync with things. The restaurant. What’s up with that?”

I don’t know, my dear, but I am trying to think of something. I’d bet that the hotel doesn’t have you on our reservation. I made it, remember?

Maggie thought for a moment. “I do,” she said. “I didn’t ask. I just got the key and went up. I thought it was strange that you didn’t bring any bags.”

I did though, Maggie. I left a large suitcase in the room. Went out with my big shopping bag. You didn’t see the suitcase?

“No. Oh, Iris. What the hell’s going on?” Maggie was about to cry.

Just then, a man sat down close to her on the bench. Maggie felt Iris get up as he moved over.

“Are you still mad at me, Mags?” the man asked. He was tall with curly blonde hair and black glasses covering deep blue eyes.

“Mad at you?” Maggie asked.

“Well, you’re sitting there against the arm of the bench, and I could feel some kind of resistance emanating. You do that sometimes, you know.” He smiled at her.

“Uh, do I? I’m sorry.” She wanted to ask who he was, but she didn’t know how since he seemed to know her so well.

“Yep. At home, you curl into your recliner and refuse to talk to me.”

At home? OMG. At home?

“Do I? I’ll try to watch that one. Where have you been?” Maggie hoped to discover some additional information.

“I went by the theatre to pick up our tickets from will call. These are great seats. So nice of your boss to get them for us.”

Ok, he’s here for my weekend away. But he wasn’t on my flight, at least as far as I know. My boss? That will have to wait.

“Did you get here okay?” Maggie probed.

“Of course. Remember I left Chicago yesterday. Finished the meetings early. I left my luggage with the hotel bellhop since the room wasn’t ready yet.” He moved over next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She shrunk back slightly but recovered and straightened up. “Were you able to get in?”

“Yes. But I didn’t know about your bag, so I didn’t pick it up,” Maggie told him, trying to breathe normally.

“That’s ok. We’ll get it after the play.”

At that moment, his phone rang. “James Watson,” he said as he picked it up.

James. His name is James – and Watson. She texted Iris the information and was happy to get a response. So, she can hear me, but when we can’t talk, we can exchange texts. Somehow that made Maggie feel better.

At least you know that. And all your id will be consistent. I’m starting to have a suspicion about what might be going on, Iris wrote back.

James stood up and waved to Maggie to stay seated while he talked. She couldn’t really hear what he was saying but it was clearly about business. She texted Iris, I think he might be a lawyer or some kind of financial guy. I can’t hear clearly. Can you hear him?

No, I’m afraid not. In summary, you know that you’re married, that he’s James Watson and that makes you still Maggie Watson. And he seems nice. Iris paused.

True. Although he could be hiding his evil side. I hope not since we seem somehow to be a couple. And that still doesn’t explain what the hell’s going on. Maggie’s frustration and fear came through to Iris.

I have an idea. Was there any point in your trip where things just kind of went weird on you?

Maggie thought. Not really. As I said, turbulence in the Midwest but that wasn’t a big deal. She paused then her eyes flew wide open. The bathroom.

The bathroom? asked Iris.

Yes, at the airport. I stopped before going to Baggage Claim. I got the shakes. Kind of like when you have the flu and a fever. Sort of shook all over. But after a moment, it stopped, and I felt fine. I’d forgotten about it. But what could that mean?

I think it means you might have passed into a parallel universe. One in which you are married to a nice man who has a good career. You’ll have to figure out the rest. I suspect you may be a very successful trademark lawyer because that’s what you’ve wanted.

Wow, Maggie answered. Happy children? But how? And why?

I’m afraid that’s a mystery. But it’s the only thing I can think of that makes any sense even though it doesn’t.  You aren’t here and you are there.

James came back and sat down. “Are you texting Eileen?”

Maggie hesitated. Who is Eileen? Maybe this universe’s Iris?

“Yes. You know we communicate every day.”

“I do know, sweetie. We’d better get going. Our reservation’s in 15 minutes and it’s a bit of a walk.” James got up and extended a hand to Maggie.

She took it and a warmth ran through her body. Suddenly she remembered meeting James, falling in love, getting married and having two daughters. “What was the call?” she asked.

“Rick, our president. He’s trying to decide whether to buy another company. For some reason, he wanted to consult with his CFO. I told him that’s it for the weekend. I’m checking out to be with my lovely wife on our 25^th anniversary.”

“Thank you, my dear. I have done the same with the firm. I’m out of the office, full stop.”

As they walked hand in hand, Maggie realized that she could no longer feel Iris nearby. She knew she would never forget her friend, but this other life seemed to suit her.

* * * * * *

Iris watched her best friend and soul mate walk away. The world, the one she still existed in, kept on turning. Hot dog vendors still sold from carts on the streets. Painters still did caricatures of tourists. New Yorkers still walked by in a hurry – always in a hurry.

Iris turned again but Maggie had disappeared. What do I do with the memories? she wondered. Who do I talk to every day besides my husband and daughter?

She sat down where Maggie had been shortly before and started to cry. A woman sat down beside her.

“Iris? Iris Graham?”

Iris looked up. She squinted for a moment then recognized Alice Barker, a girl she’d gone to high school with. “Alice? Wow, how long has it been?”

“Decades. I couldn’t believe that was you sitting there. Are you okay? You were crying,” Alice leaned over, concerned.

“I will be. Just lost a dear friend.” Iris tried a wan smile.

“You know, I am just in town for a couple of days alone. Are you alone too?” Iris nodded. “Do you have dinner plans? Maybe we can eat and get caught up.”

Iris considered the offer. “I’d like that,” she said.

After dinner, they went to the play together then parted, planning on meeting at the Guggenheim the next day.

As Iris watched Alice catch a cab, she felt the earth move. Or maybe not the earth. But her world was readjusting itself.

Her phone beeped.

Dearest Iris, Although I am gone, I don’t believe I will ever forget you and our bond. And I hope you don’t either. Much love, Maggie.

Iris smiled. I won’t dearest Maggie. I promise I won’t. Then she headed back to the hotel.