Always You Part 16
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The Revelations of Henry Collins
1.
I myself have never tripped acid, but I know a few people who have. They all wound up on academic probation within the end of the school year, and worse, one of them had to drop out of school to have her baby, get married, and move away to be a mom.
Correlation does not imply causation, but still.
I know one person who’s not a total dickwad and still drops acid on a regular basis. The last time he did it, he believed himself to be a deer—vocally calling himself such—and wandered around his house wide-eyed for the better part of a day. The morning after, when all of the dopamine had been sapped from his mind, the poor kid looked like he had attended his own funeral as the cadaver.
Now, I know for a fact that what drugs look like on television is nothing like what drugs look like when you actually try them, and that looks nothing like what people perceive you to be. For instance, I bet the guy I just talked about was having the best fucking time of his life. Either that or he was, you know, a deer.
TV told me that drinking before you’re twenty-one would end in catastrophic consequences for all parties involved once parents inevitably found out. It also told me that “natural substances” would create a clear path in the mind to achieve awakened understanding.
Both of those are bullshit.
In reality, when you drink too much, the world starts spinning and you find yourself making out with a girl you don’t know at a party you don’t belong in and wondering if she always smells like cranberry and vodka. Doing the latter, you end up in the same general place, just after sleeping so hard you could have sworn you died.
So when I watch TV and see images of dropping acid as being ‘psychedelic’ with colors all over the place and weird people talking to me in weird voices, I wrote it off as another pack of lies.
Standing on an invisible surface in the sky, with more pale white than teal zipping past us, seemed a lot more up my alley.
As for weird people, Animal House sans Kenneth seemed to fit the bill. Becky the Frightened Blond Waitress filled that party spot pretty nicely, come to think of it. We lost the other physical fighter, but unlocked Paloma’s limit break. Carina and the Jack looked right as rain.
I, of course, had a look on my face like I just sat through Blue Velvet after being told that it’s adapted from the great German socio-economic satire.
“Ultima,” I repeated the word. “What is that?”
“What is ‘this’, you mean,” Jack said. “It depends on what kind of answer you want.”
Thank you, Morpheus. “The simple one. There’s a simple one, right?”
“The simple answer is that this place does not exist. For that matter, it cannot exist. We are in a space that contradicts normal means.”
Normal means to what?
Paloma started wandering around, hand still choking on Becky’s, but eyes wandering like an infant’s. “We do not know specifics. We were not informed about the other spaces besides Earth and Ultima. We do know that Ultima is the seat of existence, and thus is why it is inaccessible.”
Hold the phone.
This is moving way too fast.
Multiple spaces in reality. There’s so many questions to ask once you bring that up. Are there other people? Are there full-blown alternate people? What about ghosts or something? Do they get a realm? What even constitutes a realm?
…People can access other realms?
“Accessing other realms is nothing out of the norm,” she went on. “With our current Animal House configuration, we may travel to any realm of your choosing.”
Animal House configuration. Like, this specific party set-up? What, is Kenneth bound from Ultima? Not that I get what Ultima even is, yet.
“Kenneth cannot come because he has never come here before,” Jack said in a rush. “Believe me, Henry, this is the time for answers and I would love to give them to you, but we don’t have time. As we speak, Forest is breaking inside from Miranda Cove.”
I thought we had seventeen hours—
Oh, I bet this place has some kind of time distortion.
I let them continue without catching my catching that minor detail. Really, that seems kind of obvious when you think about it.
“What does he want with this place, then? So Ultima is the ‘seat of reality’ or whatever,” I used air quotes, “What’s that supposed to do for him?”
“That’s what you’re about to find out.”
…Come again?
Carina, who up to this point had been dead silent as you might have noticed, touched her hand to mine.
I’m starting to like this place.
“Henry, the Jack and Paloma aren’t human.”
…I could definitely see that. “What are you guys, then?” I asked them directly, but they just watched the admittedly distracting clouds.
Carina continued, “When I first met the Jack, he said he came from a different realm. I didn’t believe him at first, but he said he had met with you, and that he knew me.”
How could he know you before actually knowing you? That sounds a bit convoluted, if you don’t mind my saying so. Well, my thinking so, or narrating so, or whatever, but you get the idea.
“The problem was, he said that Paloma had been sundered in the transaction to Earth.” She grinned, “Yes, he did actually say ‘transaction’. Half of her wound up as Becky, the other half landed somewhere in Miranda Cove.
“Jack went to save her once before, but that didn’t work out. I think you know what happened after that.”
Of course. It’s not like I’ve not been involved in my own life. “It’s just, I don’t get it. When did they meet you first? You never said anything—“
“This is the first time we’re meeting in chronological time,” Paloma said. “The next time you see them is at Lucia’s two days ago, and then wherever we go from here, two days later.”
Wait.
I must have facepalmed or something, because Carina suddenly grabbed me to make sure I didn’t fall. Who knows what I might have fallen into anyway, but this was too much.
When did this become a time-travel, dimension-hopping story?
Carina was right. I need a recap. You probably know this already, but I need a second.
So, Jack and Paloma aren’t from here. Something sends them from Ultima down to Earth, but Paloma’s ‘transaction’ (whatever that means) doesn’t work, and one thing leads to another, and the Tides get her. Then I enter the picture, we start gathering up Familars, eventually re-forming Paloma’s powers—this whole Familiar thing was about re-forming Paloma’s powers!—and landing back here in Ultima. Which means…
I looked up with a furrowed brow. “The two of you are going back to the past again, right?”
A nod from the Jack.
“But you don’t need to. What are you, trapped in a continual loop?”
“It is our job. It’s always been our job, just like it’s always been your job to go back to Earth right now and stop Forest.”
My job to stop Forest. Because I know how to do that.
“There’s a part you’re missing to the story, Henry,” Jack started again. “When I distracted the Tides from us so that you could go after Kenneth, I wasn’t offering myself up to anything. That was the last bit of my Earth presence. I defeated the Tides and went to Evangeline for help.”
Evangeline?
“She recharged me for another few hours, just long enough to get me to find Carina at Forest’s office. I met with Kenneth, and we went to save you.”
And he went and did all of that seamlessly, because he’s always done it.
What the hell is he? An angel? He fights like a boss, he time-travels, he plot recaps, and he plot derails.
…I guess that finally explains his name.
Getting on point. “I found the Familiars,” I did my best to keep up, “And this loop-thing or whatever is sealed. Now what? I still don’t have a way of beating down Forest.”
“You don’t, but Evangeline does.” Paloma with the answers, as usual. “When my brother met with her, he told Evangeline how you are to defeat Forest. You’ll have four hours left on the clock.”
Four hours left to save the world. Peachy.
With the conversation winding down, I figured it was time to either kick ass or go home. Carina and I back to present Earth to save the day, and the time-travel twins to re-act the time loop.
I feel like I should ask how they feel about that at some point. Maybe on the next loop around.
The world began to take in more and more color, until it resembled a surrealist painting. Carina and I held hands and let the winds of whatever drop us back in Miranda Cove.
“Henry!” Paloma’s voice called back. It wasn’t Paloma, though. It had far too much emotion, too much pep in the step. I couldn’t place it.
“I’m sorry about all of this. I wish we could have spent more time together.”
I nodded. “Maybe next time,” I called out.
“Next time.”
The colors faded. Carina and I stood in front of Evangeline’s house.
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Read the next installment here.
