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Mike Guimond
+ posts

Somewhere in the multiverse

The EKG hiccuped, a sudden gasp for air. In an instant, I slammed the laptop shut, leaping to his side. He faded back into the bed and seemed to return to his slumber…but the storm outside raged harder than it ever had that night. A lightning bolt beamed outside the window…that’s when he grabbed my wrist with the strength of Superman. My hand unfurled. His other hand clenched onto a device that he placed into mine. Its purple aura surged through my entire body…as the life drained from him. My heart dropped–the first and last tender moment I had with my elder went by in a flash–but then fluttered back into action…

Lightning struck again, shaking the foundation of the hospital. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew the world was ending with him. A vibration echoed through my body from the device, alerting me to turn it over and reveal the screen illuminating the address: 73 Tinkerville Road. Without hesitation, I left everything behind to sprint toward the last journey he left for me. A trippy reel sped past me: the corridors of the hospital, the stormy world beyond…all of it glitched like a misprogrammed video game: pixelations and rifts that ripped apart existence. I dodged them all with ease as the purple power was like a sixth sense, keeping me afloat in this sinking dimension. I was McFly sliding across the hood of my DeLorean, jumping in, shifting gears, and booking it out of the lot and onto the freeway. The violet energy coursed through the car now, too, making it impervious to my cracking reality in every turn the device sent me on. With the world around me crumbling with every minute that passed, I put the pedal to the metal until I reached the screeching halt.

The home looked abandoned. Seemed untouched for what looked to be decades, making it easy to plow through the door and rupture its hinges. This device guided me through hallways as windows shattered across each and every room. I was led to a pull cord, into an attic. The ground creaked with my first steps, and literally broke with my next, bringing me to the floor. I crawled towards a towering tarp, teeming with my same purple glow underneath. The unveiling revealed a cylindrical container on a pedestal…housing a 20-sided die in suspended animation. It had chrome edges and was painted with the galaxies, mesmerizing me–until the device jerked from my hand and into the void of the mechanism before me. The screen blinked and read: 

Roll the dice?

With the tap of the screen…nothing would ever be the same again…

Late 2020s

September’s morning sun shined upon Leaford High’s campus. Students slowly made their way back to school, some walking through the doors for the first time uneasily as freshmen, others drudging the return as upperclassmen. Regardless of how they moved through time, the clock was ticking. One student, however, was missing amongst the bustling crowd…

That student was Kalvin. Bedsheets in shambles, laundry melting off of every ledge, and comic books strewn about in piles, one of which is being used as a pillow. He’d been up all night studying some of the greatest stories ever told, at least this month’s issues. Kal wanted to learn from the best, but at the same time think up an adventure the world has never seen come to life. His phone buzzes to wake him: it isn’t an alarm, though. He groggily reaches and rises to see the screen read: Zeke. He slid the screen to accept the call.

“Yello?” Kal was still coming to life.

“You just wake up?”

“Yep”

“I’ve been waiting outside your house for like 20 minutes.”

“What time–” Kal looks at his phone again. 10 minutes until school’s in session. “–damn it, I gotta–”

“Just grab a piece of gum, throw on deodorant and get your ass out here. You’ve been cooped for the last 24 hours, no one’s seen you in whatever clothes you slept in.”

Kal realizes that’s his best bet right now. “Alright. I’ll be out in a sec.”

A staticy tape of The Ramones trails from Zeke’s Corolla as he speeds into Leaford High’s student lot. The two make a mad dash into the entrance that begins the quickest route to their homeroom. Mr. Dimeo, heard the patter of their feet scurrying to his room, “Warner. Vincenzo–” The two stop in their tracks, “–think your window was a little off: homeroom starts at quarter past, not half past. Zeke, I know you’ve got football practice after school, so the both of you will be having lunch with me.”

“Thank you, Mr Dimeo,” Zeke utters, disappointed he won’t have down time with his buds, but thankful Dimeo’s looking out for him. He flips off Kal out of sight. 

Kal mouths sorry. Opening his journal for English, the most recent written words read “nothing would ever be the same again…” He’d been stuck at this point in his story the entire summer…


In an allustrious office, two young men make their way to the chairs that sit before a gigantic desk. These gentlemen are basically mirror images of each other: twins that go by the names Ollie and Donnie Franterno.

“So…first day of senior year becomes the last day of fifth grade?” The brothers grin at one another.

Donnie chimes in, “Are we expected to answer that question, Principal Sanders? We know you know the answers, so if you’re expecting anything out of us–” 

Sanders slams the desk, the boys sink into their seats. “I know it’s my duty to respond cordially…professionally, but you boys need to cut the crap and get to work this year. I shouldn’t have to be handing out towels to already-confused freshman who got drenched in freezing cold water because you were–”

“–trying to refresh their memory.” Ollie laughs. “You know you should be thanking us. At least they’ll be awake for their first day.”

“Enough!” Sanders exclaims. “Both of you are to stay until late tonight and help the custodians clean.”

“Wait, what? You can’t do that!”

“I can, actually, because if you don’t, you’re in for something worse. You’re eighteen, going to graduate this year and if you keep this up you’re going to ruin it for yourselves. Do you guys want a future?” They both go silent. Ollie has a look of reflection, while Donnie looks as if he could care less. “I guess we’ll find out. Get to class, please.”


The bell rings. Kal checks his Casio. The time gets him to lunge down the hall and into a stairwell venturing to the floor below. He shuffles into the art room. Students are clearing out, but amongst them, still painting, is Drew, illustrator of Flux Comics. On the canvas before him, Drew paints a silhouette head: but the skull’s cracked, spilling with color and abstract chaos puffing into the framed universe. “You never cease to amaze, man.”

Drew turns to Kal and chuckles “Thanks, bud.”

“How’s your day been so far?”

“This pretty much sums it up.” He motions to the painting with his brush, sinks it into the adjacent cup of water, unties his apron, and begins to clean up. “You?”

“Just another day.”

“Yeah? You make anymore headway on the story?” Kal is visibly frustrated in hopes Drew wouldn’t ask the fateful question. “Feel like I haven’t heard from you this entire summer.” They share a look–time stops, but Drew quickly realizes Kal’s without an answer for him, “Dude? Really!?”

“I know.”

“You had three months!”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. I have a future to worry about, too. A handful of comic book pages isn’t enough to finish my portfolio.”

Kal is awestruck “So that’s all that matters?”

“Right now, yeah. It’s my primary concern. The world’s not going to stop turning for you, man.” Kal knows he’s wrong, and his frustration turns into disappointment as Drew packs his belongings. As Drew leaves, he gives Kal a word of advice: “You had the kid roll the dice that randomized every causality of the multiverse. That’s what you told me. The story could go literally anywhere from here…just think about that.” Drew pats Kal on the shoulder as he departs.

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Kal whispers, lingering on Drew’s painting.


That afternoon, Kal beelines out of school at dismissal. Drew’s speaking with some fellow students and notices. As much as he wants to pursue Kal, his efforts have already been drained–He’s got to figure it out on his own. Kal then passes by the football field and sees Zeke practicing, but turns his head forward again on the path home. 

Zeke notices him and waves, much to his coach’s dismay, “Vincenzo, sprint your ass down field! Now!” Zeke takes off.

Kal walks into his empty home. Dad works late. Mom’s coming home soon. His sister’s at the skatepark. Once he reaches his room, he slams his door sending a shockwave through walls. Just outside his room, the ceiling’s attic door juts open: a match with a purple head falls to the floor. Kal drops his stuff, clears off his desk, and grabs the collector’s bag housing Flux Comics’ first issue of “In Flux”. The cover depicts the silhouette of a young man, his surroundings in a typhoon of cosmic energies, and the prime focus: his hand opened, and falling from it a twenty-sided die with no numbers, just the mesmerizing galactic paint and chrome edges.

The hours tick by and by. Kal’s family comes home, but Kal still sits in his own world, racking his brain as he has for months on end. He’s flipping through the man’s final moments, the boy’s race against time, and the climactic game-changer too many times to count. As each of his family members pass through the hallway beyond his door, the lone match finds its way underneath his door…

At his own home, Drew begins work on another piece. He, too, is stuck. Drew already started painting a hand’s silhouette, reaching out. Studying it, he wondered why he always painted silhouettes. Although he couldn’t get his thoughts to articulate a conclusion, he knew at least some of the character was the colored passion surrounding whatever this darkness meant…

The sun had already set on the football field, yet Zeke was the only one remaining, clocking his sprints trying to beat the time that came before…

In the school, Ollie and Donnie are heading out of the school after their custodial shifts. One of the twins begins to argue with the other: as similar as they are they have their differences…

As hard as Kal tries, he cannot climb out of the ditch he finds himself in, becoming angrier than ever. He makes his way to his door, but feels a prick at his feet: the match. Picking it up, analyzing it, Kal acts on impulse. He grabs the comic book aggressively crinkling it,  lifts his window, strikes the match against the frame…and burns the comic. What starts as just the edge erupts in a blaze! He lets go of the book as its embers fly into the night sky…

“Good riddance.” Kal shuts his window, but as soon as he does, the lights in his room begin to flicker. Not only that, but he stumbles dizzily, holding his head…eventually collapsing…

Zeke rushes in a fury. Suddenly, the stars above burn brighter than ever, almost blinding him, but he continues to run straight ahead even faster. In doing so…an orange glow burns through parts of his clothing. Feeling the sensation on the surface of his skin, he stops dead in his tracks looking at the sky, flustered. 

As Ollie is about to throw a punch, his fist phases through Donnie. Where their bodies intersect, there is a shimmer. From that point…their bodies begin to fuse into one.

Drew paints, but the colors bubble on the canvas, almost leaping off it with a mind of their own. They cause him to accidentally spill their jars all over the floor in his room. The colors swirl into a pool. Drew looks down in amazement, his foot touches the puddle…but the colors crawl up his leg and pull him down into the rainbow abyss…

TO BE CONTINUED

 

Mike Guimond
+ posts