“Garlic and warm soda water,” she announced. “Drink up.”
“Gross, Mom,” I stated, my upper lip curling in disgust. “What is this concoction?”
“I just told you. Now squeeze the lemon into your mouth and then drink all of that in one swig. Once you drink every drop, then chew on the licorice.”
A decade ago in my other life I would have fought her over it, but now I had insight that my mother had certain unearthly gifts. Plus, why not go along with her? I knew healing others pleased her and if the stinky elixir worked that was an added bonus. Even if there was nothing but confusion and worry causing my made-up troubles, garlic, lemon and licorice wouldn’t kill me.
I did as she said and drank the liquid then ate the licorice to kill the taste of the raw garlic. “Where do you get these cures or whatever you call them?” I asked.
“My books. Sometimes my Facebook groups,” she stated, taking themug from me then checking my forehead again. “Some I make up after researching ancient indigenous medicine men or Chinese herbalist cures. You know, all the experts.”
“How about arealdoctor’s advice?” I teased.
“When needed I suppose, but why poison ourselves when there are natural ways to fight illnesses and pain,” she advised. “Western medicine is amazing too but I prefer my alternative approaches.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll rest a bit.” A horrible taste built in my mouth as I continued chewing on the black licorice. I spat the dissolving piece onto my hand. “Yuk. What kind of candy is this?” I asked, still trying to push tiny pieces of the nasty licorice out of my mouth.
“I never said it was candy,” she said, grinning. “Now put that back in your mouth and swallow.”
I looked at my hand and then back at her, suspicious that she was trying to poison me.
“It’s all natural. I wouldn’t give you something that you couldn’t handle,” she insisted.
Really? Like a potion that transported me through parallel universes?“This stuff tastes horrible,” I said.
She shifted my hand to my mouth. “Eat it,” she ordered. “I’m going to the library again today.” She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “Here, you can have this back.”
I turned the Apple iPhone around, squinting at the backside to make out the model. The phone was a 3GS from 2009 or earlier. It was a relic for sure. “Thanks.”
“We’ll have some organic soup when I get back. Loads of root veggies,” she said, moving to the door. “Relax and think positive thoughts while I’m gone.”
“I will. Thanks again for the phone.”
Mom smiled and hurried down the stairs. She was on a mission. Sick child alert. Call out the big guns.
“You are really something,” I mumbled, laughing to myself.
After turning the phone on, I noticed dozens of texts; some were severaldays old, even before my arrival from the other world. Today’s messages were all from Jennifer.
OMG! You’re not coming today?!?! This is only THE most important day of high school, Michael!
That one arrived three minutes after Mom told her I wasn’t feeling well. Jennifer didn’t mention anything about me being sick or offering to help.
I can totally work the votes for me because I’m here. I can’t do the same 4 u 2! Gawd! I’m so pissed, Michael!!!!
Four exclamation marks. Shewaspissed.
When I get crowned without you . . . OMG! I can’t EVEN imagine, and if Hastings or Mark Nelson is standing by me, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE U! EVER!
So, there had been evidence of a future Jennifer in this younger version.
I scrolled through a dozen more rants from my girlfriend and then went to Cooper’s. Not much from the last couple of days. He’d sent one Sunday that said I seemed odd that morning. He’d sent another after we’d spoken about how I’d hurt his feelings in front of Hastings, but that he still loved me and forgave me. Nothing before the kiss or after the curbside disagreement. Silence from the only person that mattered. The text history could come in handy as I tried to piece some current information together. I scrolled back a few weeks.
Coop:He asked me to prom.
Me:That’s great, buddy.
Coop:I don’t know tho. Should I say yes?
