The time was 10:15. An hour and forty-five minutes to go. Now that I knew Mom expected to send me to a time before Cooper drowned, it was time to send an email and then to open the small box.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Mike
After reading Mom’s instructions, I found my old laptop hidden at the bottom of my closet. After dusting it off and turning the old machine on, I changed the date and time to July 1, 2013. I signed into my email and attached a photo of me holding a copy of The Post Register, the local newspaper in Idaho Falls. I’d circled the date and held it near my face. If Mom’s concoction could propel me to the past of a different universe, then couldn’t my email do the same?
I tilted the tiny box from side to side several times and listened to the familiar thuds. I assumed it was the small vial mentioned in Mom’s note. After opening the box, I saw a glass ampoule next to a small royal-blue sack with gold tassels that were tied in a loose knot. I held the miniature bottle up to the light and saw finely ground particles. I figured the small bits were marigold. Mom didn’t leave a list of the other ingredients of the potion.
I hadn’t expected the silk bag. Loosening the knot, I opened the small sack and dumped the contents onto my palm. A recognized the silver necklace looped through a ring. The piece of jewelry was a ring that Cooper and I had given Mom on Mother’s Day the year after Dad passed. The three stones were ruby, the birthstones for Mom, Cooper, and me since all of us were born under the sign of Cancer. Cooper and I had gifted Mom the ring to symbolize our connection and love for our shared mother. A fact I couldn’t dispute as they had always been close.
I peeked inside the bag and retrieved a piece of paper that simply read:wearthe connection.An epiphany washed over me.She knows what she’s doing.
I poured the vial’s contents into the glass of water and stirred the mixture until it dissolved before bringing the glass to my nose for a quick whiff. “Shit,” I muttered. I dared another smell. “I can’t swallow this swill,” I protested to the empty room. The digital alarm clock read 11:57. I had to drink it, and fast.
I stared around the room, double checking the note to make sure I didn’t miss anything. “The calendar. Shit,” I gasped before leaping across the room.Not more than six months but at least thirty days before.I should have given the time frame more thought but had forgotten about the instruction. I leafed through the old calendar, thinking of the email I’d sent to July, letting my thumb make the decision when it landed between the pages for June 2013, two months before he drowned. I quickly hung the calendar on the nail then hustled back to the nightstand.
The mixture was murky and still smelled like death thanks to the marigolds; an odd thought considering the desired goal of the concoction.
“You have to truly want it,”she’d said from her hospital bed.“Envision a life with Cooper in a world where you both are.”Mom’s words haunted my mind.
I wanted to believe. I wanted to live in a world with Cooper again. I had to.
“Envision living in a world with him again,”I whispered, reaching for the glass. I pinched my nose closed and chugged the vile liquid, struggling to keep the lukewarm potion down.
11:59 P.M..
Several seconds passed.
Nothing.Shit!
I felt normal, if not a bit disappointed while sitting on my bed in my birthday suit. I shifted on to my bed and relaxed with my head on my pillow, the necklace wrapped around my wrist while I clutched the ring.
The numbing sensation began simultaneously in my feet and at the top of my head as it raced from both ends toward my center.
I wanted to scream but it was too late.
“You have to want it to happen. You have to believe. Envision a world withCooper in it.”
My mind fixated on Mom’s voice that invaded my mind in a soothing tone. I felt her hand in mine as my father appeared in what seemed like a tunnel in the distance, smiling and waving.
My thoughts drifted to the hole in my heart. A void I had lived with for a decade since Cooper’s death. Focusing on my best friend, I felt like the hole had been ripped open, manifesting as physical pain that made me cry out. The memories of losing him swept in like ocean waves crashing against the shore during a winter’s storm, reminding me of how I couldn’t live without him for even one more moment.
And then, there he was.
Cooper’s smiling face hovered above me when his hand covered the hole in my heart.
“Are you real?” I whispered.
“Are you?” he answered, his mouth not moving.
I imagined waking up on a Sunday morning, wondering if Cooper was downstairs with Mom and Dad yet. I’d wait until he got bored so he’d come upstairs and flop on the bed with me, complaining he was hungry so I needed to get my butt outta bed. He never used words like ass. It wasn’t his style. He’d slide under my arm, almost like a snuggle session but not quite.
“I love you,” I admitted.
An impossibly loving embrace pulled me out to sea and I relaxed as Cooper and I planned another Sunday. His favorite day of the week.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Cooper
Maybe Ten Years Ago
