12: Checking in

If there’s a single lesson that life teaches us,
it’s that wishing doesn’t make it so.

Lev Grossman

Peg opened the door and trooped downstairs, her eyes downcast and glazed, her mind far, far away. It took a moment before anyone noticed her.

“Lordy, Child! You’ve got to let someone know you’re there, honey,” Bea swore, clutching her chest. “You’re likely to give us a heart attack appearing like that, and it’ll probably be me.”

“I didn’t think just popping in would help.” Entering the living room, Peg barely glanced up as she collapsed on an empty space on the couch.

“Egads,” Andre said. “you don’t look good. I knew we shouldn’t have left you behind.”

“It wasn’t like she gave you any choice,” Paul reminded him, before turning to his friend. “Was it really that bad?”

Rather than answering she nodded, unable to voice what she’d experienced. “I could’ve appeared here, but thought it wouldn’t be well received, so I chose the bathroom again.”

“So, you’ve finished your quest?” Tabitha asked, kneeling before her and grasping her hands.

Nodding again, she wasn’t prepared to answer questions.

“So what happened?” Paul prodded. “Did you discover who was responsible for Jason’s death?”

Peg sighed. “No one is. He’s not even dead.” Her response was met by stunned silence.

“The cops identified the wrong person?”

“Yeah. The police are wrong. Jason is wrong. Everything is wrong.”

“What does that mean?” He scratched his head. “Did they misidentify the body, were they wrong about his being killed, who did it, or something else?”

“It’s all wrong, worthless and meaningless.”

Everyone glanced at one another, unsure how to interpret the convoluted information.

“I see what they meant by ‘not the same’,” Andre reflected. “She doesn’t seem present, with the infamous thousand-yard stare, having seen things she can never forget.”

“Whatever you call it, I don’t I like it.” Paul studied her closely, hoping for any external clues to explain her erratic behavior.

“No matter what she saw, it was clearly traumatic,” Tabby said, standing and resting her hand on her shoulder. “She needs to rest, she’s been through a lot. Are you hungry, hun? Or would you rather lie down for a while?”

“No,” Peg stated, shaking her head and getting up. “I have things to do. What time is it?”

“4:32 a.m.,” Andre said, checking his watch. “You were gone for some time.”

“It’s too late to drop in on anyone. I’ll need to wait for morning, but ... I’m not ready to stop. There’s too much to consider. If I close my eyes, it’s all I’ll think about.”

“What do you need, honey?” Bea said. “Name it and we’ll arrange it for you.”

“I still think sleep is the best thing for you,” Tabby reflected. “Would it help if one of us slept near you, just so you know you aren’t alone.”

“You being there won’t modify my dreams ... dream. Wherever I lay down, nothing will change. But ... I have to figure out what’s changed, or whether anything has.”

“Do you need a ride anywhere, possibly a long walk?” Andre asked. “Just to give you time to think, hopefully with someone watching over you? I’m not sure you’re alert enough to tell when you’re walking into danger.”

“We have a nice park nearby,” Tabitha suggested. “You can sit or pace, and no one will disturb you. It’s very peaceful, perfect for reflecting while the plants and animals calm your soul.”

“Anything is better than listening to my doubts,” she conceded. “I’m not certain I can remain still. I need to keep moving. If I stop, my worries will overwhelm me. If I’m doing something, it’ll distract me while I process my thoughts.”

“It might help discussing them,” Tabitha offered. “Though we haven’t experienced the same things, we may be able to offer some perspective. With more maturity, we tend to view the big picture, rather than focusing on specific details.”

“No.” Peg shook her head, her curls whipping around. “The problem is, everything I thought I knew is wrong, and I’m unsure where to go from here. I can’t go back, and yet I can’t go forward either.”

“That’s something we can relate to, as we’ve each made a substantial mistake or two,” Bea said. “Luckily, regrets aren’t fatal, as you can always begin again.”

“Are you doubting what you’ve learned about the portals?” Paul asked. “Whatever you saw, you can’t deny that the gates work.”

“Your initial assumptions may’ve been mistaken,” Andre said, urging acceptance, “but it doesn’t change what you’ve accomplished. What it does, is by changing your understanding, you’re likely to make even more impressive insights.”

“It isn’t so simple,” Peg argued. “It’s deeper than that. I ... really can’t discuss it. I need to process it and reach a decision. Until then, there’s nothing to debate.” She stood. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Back from the park?” Tabitha asked, spreading her hands, uncertain.

“When I’m back,” she clarified. “When depends on several things. I’ll be back when I work some of them out.”

__________
Hours later, Peg reentered her bedroom. Rather than crawling across, she rolled over her bed until her legs slipped over the side. Lying still a moment, she was unsure what she expected. Instead of searching for things she might recover one last time, she passed her closet without a glance. No longer concerned with her childhood, she was well past that now. It seemed even more unreal than what happened since she fell into the coma. It was based on nothing but falsehoods. Lies which not only hadn’t protected her, but left her unable to cope with the evil befalling her. Rather than defending herself, she’d retreated first into the hollow fantasy of a bogus childhood, and then into the distorted reality of an imaginary world. Both were worse than worthless. They’d proven more harmful than living in the street. One made her strong, the other ended with her in an unresponsive coma, incapable of resisting as she was continually assaulted. She was done with it.

Cautiously trying to open the door, she was surprised to find the handle wouldn’t turn. Checking again to ensure it wasn’t stuck, it was apparent it was locked externally. Sighing, she returned and sat on the bed again. She had time to think, now.

With no way to determine how she kept returning, her mother had found how to keep her out. If locking the outside locks didn’t work, then lock the interior doors too. It was so simple it was almost elegant. Just to be sure, she checked the window near where she’d entered the room. It was fastened with keyed slider locks. There were also suspicious tapes with embedded wires reflecting in the sunlight streaming in. Stepping back, she considered her options.

“There’s an easy enough solution,” she muttered, “especially if I’m only imagining this.” She vanished without bothering with any portals, reappearing at the end of the hallway. It was riskier, but without doors to lock. If discovered, she could as easily escape again. Besides, if she was, she’d love to see them explaining how she’d magically teleported. Their making unreasonable claims would only strengthen Peg’s position. Hearing someone arguing, seemingly with themselves, down the hall she ignored it. Listening as she crept further away, it was clear her mother was talking on her cellphone, probably with a friend. That meant the kitchen was free, and she was likely busy for a while. Unlike in the evenings, neither her mother nor Frank would be drinking, though she wouldn’t put it past either one. However, her mother being in her bedroom didn’t mean he wasn’t around. She hadn’t encountered him on her other trips, but she couldn’t afford to get careless.

Slipping quietly into the space connecting the living room and kitchen, she didn’t see anyone. Continuing, she took the house phone off the wall. Stretching the cord and facing away so her voice wouldn’t carry, she dialed the number listed on the card in her hand.

“Detective Wilks.”

“Detective, it’s me,” she whispered, covering the receiver.

“Peg Winchester?”

“Yeah, I’m back home. I’d like to talk.”

“I’m glad you called. We have some information on the case, though we weren’t been able to contact you. Should I show up and check your room again?”

“No, it’s unnecessary and my Mom won’t appreciate it. I’ll meet you outside on the street corner nearest the house. It’s far enough away they can’t easily see it unless they’re going somewhere. Neither spends much time outdoors.”

“I can’t make it, but I’ll send a squad car to pick you up.”

“If Frank or my mother sees it, it’ll cause trouble,” she urged.

“I’ll deal with it, but we’ll keep it quiet. Just be ready when we get there. I’ll have to arrange things, so give us ten or fifteen minutes to set it up.”

“Okay, I’m heading out. Don’t call back. It will only piss everyone off.”

Peg stood, hanging up the phone. She didn’t hear anything, but something seemed wrong. She couldn’t identify what, but didn’t feel comfortable. Glancing around, she assumed the outside doors were locked too, including the garage and back door. Simple enough. She closed her eyes, and vanished once again.

__________
“Back again,” Trrilkr observed, despite being nowhere near her. Peg still couldn’t grasp how they communicated, as their beaks seemed useless. She glanced around, searching for her, eventually seeing her waiting for another orb to appear, some distance away. “I take it you’re just passing through.”

“Yeah. It’s not an issue, is it? No one seemed distracted when I first appeared.”

“No, it’s what we were always taught about Visitors. They show up, unannounced, and then reappear at the most unexpected times, without warning, only to vanish again. We expect it, though it can surprise us and take our minds off our tasks.”

“Would it help if I said something, or should I try appearing somewhere else?”

“That would be best, give me a moment.” Notifying someone, she started flying towards her. Peg had found the weightlessness wasn’t a problem if she left immediately on arriving. Waiting still caused her to rotate into unexpected positions.

When Trrilkr reached, straightened and stabilized her, she kept both moving. Once Peg was able to glance back, there was no sign of the other Shifters. “This is a better place to shift in and out of,” her host declared, “as it won’t distract anyone.”

“Thanks. Now that I know the location, it’s easy enough coming back.” Peg considered it. It was featureless, without corners, doors, ceiling or floor. Though there were no lights they could see each other clearly, without glare hiding the details. “Is this even the same place?”

“Not quite. Using your language, it’s more like a separate room, though we have no such things here. Still, we isolate the activities in one area from those in other places.” Trrilkr considered her. “How are you doing? We never spoke after you returned. It’s obvious it affected you, as it has every other Traveler who visited their alternate worlds.”

“I’m ... coping,” Peg sighed. “It’s tough, as I no longer know what, or even who to believe. Even now, I’m not convinced you’re actually real, or whether you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

“Yet I guess you don’t ask those back on your world whether they’re authentic?”

“No, I’m only asking because, like the others I’ve met while traveling, they have no control over my life. Thus, they offer the best advice.”

Trrilkr took her time, considering her response. “We were taught that all Visitors are warned what to expect, yet they continue, knowing the risks. What’s more, they proceed, regardless of their doubts. Despite being eager to know, it’s pointless arguing what you witnessed. It was meant for you alone. However it effects them, these alternate-world visions motivate the Visitors to persist, in defiance of their misgivings.

“I won’t question the validity of your experience, but know it is real for you, even if not for us.”

Peg frowned, her brow furrowing. “It wasn’t an alternate future I saw, but my past. I saw the dates, and I can’t be in both places at the same time. They weren’t showing me what might happen, but what has. That’s what I’m struggling with.”

“Ah, that makes the discussion easier,” she continued, demonstrating how quickly she adapted to Peg’s language. “The relation between fact and fiction is more nebulous for us and you Visitors. Getting caught up in what’s real and what isn’t won’t help, though it compels you to be cautious and more dedicated. You weren’t chosen for this, you’re driven to do what you can, however it influences you.

“Just realize, however hazy things seem, they have a way of working out in the end.”

“Thanks, I guess, although it doesn’t make things any clearer.” Peg checked her empty wrist, sending her spiraling in another slow-motion roll. “But I need to meet someone, so I’d better go. We’ll talk again soon, I promise.” And once again, she was gone.

__________
The policeman jumped when Peg jiggled his door handle, trying to access the front seat. Motioning her into the back with his thumb, she opened the rear door and climbed in, keeping her head low.

“Ah, there you are,” the officer said, turning the car around. “I was wondering whether you were going to show up or not. It’s not often we get students skipping classes to meet secretly with detectives.”

“I was watching the kids heading off to school,” she mentioned wistfully. “I was doing that, not long ago. Hopefully I’ll do it again, only somewhere far away.”

“Don’t worry,” he reassured her, having no idea what she was referring to. “It gets better. You only need time to adjust.”

“Really Pete?” she pressed, glaring at his image in the rearview mirror where she could see part of his nametag. “Adapt to reality, which everything demonstrates is false; to my dreamlike existence, or how I’m unable to change what’s patently false?”

“Hey, I’m simply making small talk,” he protested. “All I know is people are good at adjusting to anything, only you can’t rush it. It takes time, no matter how fast you spin your wheels. The faster you run, the more you’ll get lost.” He paused, glancing at her in his rear-view mirror. “They told me you’re a flight risk and likely to disappear.” It was a statement, rather than a question.

“I don’t run,” she insisted, “but I don’t always show up where I’m expected.”

Officer Pete raised his brow. “Is that why your parents locked you out of the house, yet you keep sneaking back in?”

“You know a lot for someone driving me to a meeting.”

“They tell me what to look out for, I make the connections myself.”

“I don’t have a phone of my own, and can’t ask to borrow anyone’s. Since I know how to slip in and out of my house, it’s easier and safer than breaking into a stranger’s.”

“Fair point,” Pete conceded. “You might consider a burner phone, the kind where you prepay for a set number of minutes. You can get one at any big store.”

“Thanks,” Peg said, glancing behind her for anyone observing them. “I’ll contemplate stealing one the next time I’m walking through a Walmart.”

The conversation for the rest of the trip was short and to the point.

__________
“Tom, this young woman wanted to speak with you,” said the policewoman escorting Peg into the detectives’ squadroom.

“You certainly have a way of getting around. I’m glad I don’t need to keep you for any time, as I’m not sure I could. Did anyone see you?”

Peg shook her head, glaring at the departing female officer. “No, though I had to wait for the kids at the school bus stop. Only a week ago, I spent every day with them. Now I’m hiding from them.”

“You don’t have to. In fact, I should arrange for you to stay with another relative, who’ll watch out for you since your mother refuses to.” He paged through her file, opening his notebook. When he turned back, she wasn’t there. Neither was the metal chair she’d sat in. He jumped up, scanning the room, and checking behind the various desks.

“Are you finished?” she asked, once more beside his desk, though now on his left, rather than his right. She was young enough; he didn’t think she could carry the heavy chair far without making noise.

“What are you trying to pull?”

“Just showing that, like my parents, you can’t keep me from going anywhere I want.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“No, it’s a fact.” She glanced behind them. “You may want to check your cells.”

He studied her a moment, before glancing over his shoulder. “Why would I—” he asked, before turning back to find her gone again.