He picked up after the first ring. “Hey, my friend. How are you?”
“Getting there,” I answered. “I’m not sure if I’m accepting her death because I knew Mom was so sick or if the fact that I’m all alone now hasn’t hit me yet.”
“You’re not alone, buddy. You’ve got me,” he reassured. “But I understand. Well, maybe not completely since I still have both of my parents,” he added.
I decided to rip the Band-Aid off immediately. “Do you have time to listen to another story?” I asked. “Warning though. This one is weird as fuck.”
Brandt laughed on the other end. “I love weird, dude. Bring it on.”
“You sure?” I questioned. “My tale will force you to question reality.”
I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom while resting on the bed. Dozens of small discolored circular spots from when Cooper and I would lie on the bed and toss a rubber ball up at the ceiling dotted the white surface. I loved lying side by side talking, throwing and catching the ball while sharing our day with each other.
Brandt’s response brought me back to reality.
“That sounds like a good thing because I’m sitting here questioning why I’m home on a Saturday evening with no plans for a date or a casual hook up,” he complained. “Now that’s a fucked up story. So hit me with yours, dude.”
I’d already told him about my childhood with a mother who believed in the afterlife and spiritual journeys so he knew the backstory. “Remember when I mentioned that my mother claimed she was connected to my friend Cooper and that she had premonitions that he was still present in her life?”
“Yep. Hard to forget something like that,” he answered. “And I told you I had an aunt that could do the same shit. My family ostracized her, but I believed that woman had connections. She knew shit, man; and I’ll never question her.”
“Well, about that,” I began.
I proceeded to tell Brandt the entire story about Mom’s hairbrained idea: the book on parallel universes, her medium, Druzella, and the cat I kept seeing. I told him about the seven day wait, not burying Mom in the plot next to Dad, the halo ring in the picture, flickering lights, the entire list of unexplainable events. He made small noises as I told my story by adding ahmmmor a slight gasp to let me know he was fully engaged. I finally told him about the box and the instructions she’d given to me, but how I still hadn’t opened it.
“I have less than six hours to shit or get off the pot,” I said, waiting for a response. There was complete silence for ten or fifteen seconds. “You still there?” I whispered, thinking I may have finally convinced him I was one fucked up acquaintance.
“I say you fucking do it,” he urged. “Oh yeah, dude. You abso-fucking-lutely do that shit.”
“Am I crazy?” I questioned. “Was my mother?”
“Yeah, probably on both counts, but you also don’t fuck with the universe, man. I believe in that parallel shit. That stuff is real.”
“So you’d follow the instructions?” I asked.
“As long as you know that potion your mom conjured up with her psychic friend is safe, I would.”
“She said the powder is made from all-natural plant based ingredients. I trust my mom on that,” I stated. “So, you’d do it?”
“Hell yeah!” he declared. “Without a doubt.” Two seconds went by before he added, “Do you think you’ll know if you’re in the other universe? Oh shit. Will I still know you in this one?” He was dead serious.
“I never thought about that,” I admitted. “That would suck, right?”
“I’ll miss you, dude, but I still say go for it,” he said. “And just in case nothing happens, we’ll still have one hell of a story, won’t we?”
“I’m desperate for even the slimmest chance she knew what she was talking about,” I confessed. “I think I’m willing to do almost anything for a chance to see him again. I’m crazy, right?”
“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t,” he began. “But what if she’s right and you get that second chance?”
Perhaps Brandt went along with me because he felt I was grieving. He could have been an asshole and told me I’d lost my mind, but he wasn’t. I was grasping for straws and encouragement.
“I’m going to open the box,” I whispered. “I am actually going to try.”
“Good for you, and if I don’t get a text from you tomorrow, I’ll know it worked,” he said, without any sarcasm or judgment. “Holy shit, dude. What if it fucking works?” he added.
I couldn’t believe I said what I said next. “If you don’t get the text, then it worked. Wait a second,” I said, pausing to think about the possibilities. “Or if you get a text but it isn’t about this, then it worked. Is that how it would go in a parallel universe?” I asked.
“I don’t know, man. Will you even remember your life here?”
