Chapter 11
A meeting of minds…
I hesitated once I reached the front door, scanning the store one last time, a fleeting desire to see Connor again before I left, yet it was futile. He was long gone.
“Come on Madison, we’re going to the Red Lobster!”
I cut them both a sly look. “We’re going to the Olive Garden.”
“A woman who takes charge. You gotta love those.” John Rogers seemed harmless in that odd senile kind of way. I could see what Adahy saw in him. There was no doubt about it, John did possess his own personal swagger and when he spoke, nonsense as it may seem, he did exhibit a sort of animal attraction one found difficult to turn away from.
The Olive Garden was a short walk away, located in the same shopping center as Books-A-Million and once we entered, it didn’t take us long to get our seats. The server came and took our order, Rogers being very vocal about the check coming to him and him only. There was a slight awkward silence at first, that is, until the server returned with our drinks.
Grape soda for me, Dr. Pepper for Ethan and a Long Island Ice-Tea for Rogers. He nodded approvingly when the server appeared with the drinks, handing her an old school, two-dollar bill as a tip, then literally shooing her away before draining half his glass in three gigantic gulps.
“Forgive me, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced as of yet. I’m sure we know each other’s names, or at least I am aware of both yours and his, while my own was plastered across that God awful, gaudy, bulletin crapfest; however that should not displace the advent of manners all together."
“I am Jonathan Rogers, though that be a pseudonym at best, poor intellectualism at worst. I am a writer of no small pedigree, my works, though not blazoned into the common, everyday psyche, do fairly decent. I am also in possession of one of the most amazing literary agents the universe has ever given birth too, so I’m lucky in that respect and as such, monetary value means almost nothing to me.”
Money means nothing. Must be nice…
“Well I’m Ethan Blackwood.” I’m so glad he decided to go before me. “And I just moved here.”
“Really?” Rogers leaned forward, fully enraptured. “Where from Mr. Blackwood?”
Now this perked my interest as well, considering Ethan is very nondisclosure agreement when it comes to himself.
He seemed to fidget in his seat a little. “I’m…not from this country.” Ethan didn’t elaborate any further.
Rogers could sense Ethan’s trepidation about his past. “Don’t worry son, we’re all foreigners here. Do you think this universe originally belonged to us to begin with?”
“I guess that just leaves me.” Sure, I could play along. Just listening to Rogers off the cuff comments was worth the price of admission.
“I’m Madison Rose. I just moved here as well.”
“Interesting.” John had finished his drink and was snapping his fingers in the air to gain the servers attention. Once he had it, he simply pointed towards his glass. “The both of you, newlyweds to the city of Palm Coast. Did know each other before coming to Florida?”
“Nope. I saw her at the beach the other day and just had to stop.” Ethan was glowing as he spoke.
“Just had to, you say?” The server appeared and replaced Johns Long Island Ice-Tea with a fresh one. “One might just call that providence.”
“I don’t believe in fate.” I think I’m starting to like this John Rogers.
“That’s okay Madison, it’s perfectly clear that he believes in you.” John held out his hand, palm down, placing it in the middle of the table. “Tell me what you see.”
“Ethan cocked a singular eyebrow. “Uh…your hand?” He leaned forward quite a bit. “And a really kick ass Green Lantern ring.”
“But is that it? Is that all you see?” Rogers was studying his face intensely, waiting for a response.
Ethan took a sip of his soda then leaned back. “If this is some type of pop quiz, I’m sure I failed.”
“There is a grading curve that is well beyond your realm of comprehension my boy, but you…” Rogers turned his hand towards me. “You, I’m very sure of. Very sure indeed. Tell me what you see.”
It was strange. John Rogers was bizarre. My eyes cut towards Ethan for a moment then back towards this dude’s hand. I mean, it was just like Ethan said. Other than that ring, which really was kinda kick ass, must be a movie prop or something, but other than that, it was just nothing there. Nothing of any note that is.
And yet…
It was almost like there was something visible and yet there wasn’t. I had to unfocus my eyes until I was seeing doubles and only as the two images began to merge together into one was it partially visible. It was some type of tattoo in azure ink. Very faint, but it was still there nonetheless. It appeared to be some type of equation, yet it was hard to make the numbers out. They seemed to…fluctuate is the best word I can use to describe it.
“What is that, a math problem?” I asked. “It kinda reminds me of, I don’t know, an algebraic equation or something.”
“It’s a Chaos Equation to be more specific.” John seemed like he just found the winning lottery ticket.
“A Chaos Equation? What’s a Chaos Equation?” Things were starting to get peculiar. “And why am I the only one that can see it?”
“See what?” Ethan leaned forward again, this time literally grabbing Johns hand and pulling it extremely close to his face. “There’s nothing there other than this mole. I don’t see anything else. You really might wanna get that checked out too.”
John pulled his hand away from Ethan’s grasp. “That mole is of no concern to you.”
I sighed. “Jesus, you two are like the odd couple. Why can’t Ethan see the tattoo John?”
“Because, he isn’t supposed to, my good woman.” He took another sip of his drink. “At least not yet, he isn’t. The ink is bonded to my quantum signature. The Chaos Equation is in a state of flux, constantly changing, realigning my body’s dimensional frequency ever so much. Not enough to elicit a Quantum Parallel-Shift into another dimension mind you, but enough so that I’m more in tuned to specific… reality altering events as they take place.”
“That sounded really cool and all, but it made absolutely no sense to me what so ever.” I can see why this guy’s books sold so well. If he could write eloquently, just half of what he just said, nerds everywhere would have a nerdgasim in their nerd pants.
“I understood it.” Both John and I looked at Ethan skeptically. “Hey, I didn’t say I believe the man, but I’ve read enough Grant Morrison and watched enough Star Trek to understand String Theory.”
The server came with our food, placing each of the plates down in front of us, before disappearing. As soon as she left, everyone passed their plates to the right until we had our correct order in front of us.
“Don’t even play yourself Ethan. You do not understand String Theory. I don’t even understand String Theory. I don’t even know what Sting Theory is, but I know it’s not what he just said.”
Ethan took a bite out of his burger. “What the man is saying is that he got himself a tattoo that attracts him to crazy shit.”
“How is that even remotely close to String Theory?” I asked.
“It’s not.” Ethan replied with a mouth full of food. “I’m just using that as an analogy.”
“An analogy of what?”
“I don’t know.” Ethan washed down his burger with some Dr. Pepper. “So what’s up with the invisible ink tattoo John?”
“It’s not invisible.” I countered. “I can see it. I mean, it’s difficult for me to make out, it hurts my eyes when I look at it, but it’s there.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Let the man speak.”
John didn’t reply, simply gazing at the two of us without discretion. “Amazing.”
“What’s that John?” Ethan had just shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. “I know I’m awesome and all, but…”
/> “The Mark of Pandora blazes bright amongst the two of you. Brightest with young Madison here, but still…” John seemed flabbergasted.
“I’ve never witnessed such an event of this magnitude before. It was just utter randomness that I was doing a signing in this city at all. Engine trouble on my way to Orlando yesterday. The mechanic said the new part wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. That’s how I ended up here in Palm Coast.”
“My agent decided to contract the Books-A-Million signing just on a whim. Just to past the time. In my entire life, I’ve never seen one. I’ve only read about them or heard about them from questionable, second hand sources, yet today, within the span of an hour, I’ve come across three individuals that bare the Mark of Pandora. Do you have any idea of the significance behind a cosmic event such as this?”
“You lost me at hello, buddy.” I took a bite of my Spinach Alfredo.
“Yes, of course I did, of course I did.” John Rogers mumbled. “Here, let me explain. You see, there are seven distinct dimensions that hold the everything of everything.”
This guy was certifiable, of this there was no question. His particular brand of crazy was just oozing off him in waves right now. Yet the way he spoke, his enthusiasm, it was just…you know…I don’t even know what it was, but he had my attention.
John motioned to the world in a wide sweeping arc of his hands. “Everything here, all of this, everywhere, the Earth, the planets beyond, the sun, the galaxy, the universe, all of this and everything that it entails, is located in just one dimension. You, me, him, her, them, they, area 51, the pyramids, that new Mercedes coup, that fork you’re eating with, this drink, which is utterly lacking the correct amount of alcohol, those clouds, the aliens that live on whatever world we have yet to discover, all of this, everywhere, it all exists in just one dimension.”
“And within that one dimension are six hundred and sixty-six different realities that coexist all at once, overlapping each other constantly, invisible to the naked eye, yet here nonetheless.”
“Six hundred and sixty-six? Isn’t that the Mark of the Beast?” Ethan had stopped eating, intent on the conversation.
“I suppose.” John admitted. “I don’t know really, maybe it’s just symbolic, maybe it’s not. More than likely that specific number of realties existed before the Beast. Or it could be just as well that the Beast existed before the separation of realities and that number is his fingerprint on existence itself. Or maybe there is no Beast at all and the whole of it comes from the power of imagination and Mankind’s overwhelming need to place symbolism on everything it comes into contact with.”
I stopped eating, pausing mid forkful. “Wait, so you’re saying that you see the Mark of the Beast on us?”
“No, no, young Madison, it is the Mark of Pandora that has enraptured your very essence of being.”
I was confused and yet I wasn’t. “So, when you say six hundred and sixty-six, realities, you’re talking about, what, parallel Earths or something?”
“Parallel lives, parallel Earths, parallel galaxies, parallel everything.” He explained. “In this dimension, there are six hundred and sixty-six different Madison’s that exist simultaneously, unaware of the other six hundred and sixty-five.”
“How is that even possible John?”
“String Theory.” Ethan chimed in.
“Shut up, dude.” That may have come of a little more sarcastic then intended.
Ethan resumed eating. “I’m just saying…”
“No, no, he is somewhat correct.” John said. “In your life, there are a number of decisions that drastically change your future. I call them a Nexus in time, because when you remember them, it’s always what life was before and what life is after that decision is made.”
“Didn’t Captain Kirk meet Captain Picard in the Nexus?” Ethan asked.
“Yes he did. Different kind of Nexus however. The one with the Borg was a much better movie though.” John replied.
“A Nexus in time.” I repeated softly.
“Take myself for example.” Rogers stated. “Today would be a Nexus in time for me. The day I came across three people with the Mark of Pandora. Something elaborately cosmic is about to happen, the Forgotten Future is about to be rewritten and this place, today, for me, this is where it all begins.”
“Wait, you said three right? Three different people?” Ethan asked.
“Yes, three people.”
“Well if me and Madison make two, who’s the third?”
“A rather frightening young lad. I had a meeting with him just before I saw you. He had some questions about one of the books I had written decades ago.” John said.
Something inside of me clicked just then, a wave of deja vu so strong it was almost overwhelming. “Mythological Creatures in Urban Society.” I said.
John was mildly surprised. “Why yes, that’s the one. It was one of the first books I’d ever written after being branded with the Chaos Equation and the world beneath the veil opened up to me. All of a sudden, there was this young chap today, strange bedfellow that one, very eerie he was, claimed to have met me twenty some years ago, which means, for me at least, that it hasn’t happened yet. Said his name was…”
“Connor.” I finished his sentence like it was my own.
“You know him then? You know the gentleman of whom I speak?”
“I met him the same day I met Ethan.” I admitted. “He…he saved my life that night.”
“I see.” The look on John Rogers face became suddenly grave. “Then it’s already begun…”
“Wait, is that the dude’s name? Connor? The guy from the other night?” Ethan asked.
“So you both know him.” Rogers did not phrase that as a question, nor did he direct his statement towards either Ethan or myself.
“Yeah, well no, well, kinda…” Fumbled Ethan. “I’ve never met the guy personally but…” Ethan brought the conversation back to me. “He was here, today, at the book store? You talked to him?”
“Yeah.” I admitted.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s wasn’t a big deal, is all. I didn’t think it was important.” I lied. I’m doing an awfully lot of lying today.
“Not important?” Ethan seemed like he was getting upset. “The guy saves your life, runs off just before I show up and you randomly bump into him at the book store and it’s not a big deal?”
“No. Not really.” I think we’re having our first fight. It would almost be cute.
Almost…
“If that isn’t a big deal, then I don’t know what is. What did he say?”
I turned to John. “So one dimension, six hundred and sixty-six realities. How does the Mark of Pandora factor into all of this?”
“Right.” John said. “Of course. So there are seven different known dimensions in total. And I say known, because, well, that’s what we know for fact. There could be more, but we haven’t been able to pinpoint them.”
“Who is this we you’re referring to?” I asked.
“Not important.” He said. “Just follow along. Seven dimensions. Each dimension contains six hundred and sixty-six different realities respectively. That’s four thousand, six hundred and sixty-two realities in total. Some strikingly similar, to the point that they are almost identical, others so far on the other end of the spectrum that it could be incomprehensible to the human psyche.”
“Now there are some things, certain emotions, sentient items, Omega Level Beings, they exist simultaneously across all four thousand, six hundred and sixty-two realities and are self-aware of each separate version of themselves, to the point that they are of one mind, body and soul, spread out over the entire multiverse. The Gods if you will, along with certain self-aware things that the Gods create.”
“Now, you and I, we can leave here, get hit by a car and die. That marks the end of our existence in this reality. In another reality, someone might push us out the way and the car doesn’t hit us and we’re st
ill alive. But in this reality, that person who would have saved our life, they might have misplaced their keys last night and the extra two minutes it took to find them this morning, put them two minutes behind for the rest of the day, which in turn, makes them two minutes to late in saving our lives and thus, we are dead. That is how alternate realities work.”
“That’s crazy.” Ethan said.
“Yes it is, isn’t it?” Rogers agreed.
“Now these Omega Level Beings, these Gods, they cannot die like you and I. They are immortal, yet only in the sense that whereas, one singular version of myself in any given reality, can die at even given time, every version of them, across every version of reality, across all seven dimensions, must die all at once, simultaneously if you will.”
“Do you know the odds it would take for something like that to happen?” Asked Ethan.
“Exactly.” Rogers said. “Which is why the Boxes of Pandora were created.”
“Wait a minute, did you say boxes?” I interjected. “I’ve heard the story of Pandora’s Box, it held all the worlds evils and what not, but there was only one of them, only one box.”
The author disagreed. “That story only spoke of one Box my dear, but there are others. Spread out across time and space. They cannot be destroyed. They cannot be broken into. They cannot be broken out of. They are immortal and they can only be opened by the exact same person, across all realities, in every dimension, at the same exact same time, in the exact same fashion. They were created to contain Omega level entities that could create Omega level events. Things that are just too dangerous to roam free, but in essence are impossible to kill.”
“Dude, that’s just crazy insane.” I said.
“Yes it is. But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
“Even if one of these Boxes of Pandora existed, which they don’t, you wouldn’t be able to open one of these things. It’s impossible.” Argued Ethan
“They do exist and they can be opened, dear boy. Even a broken clock is correct twice a day.”
“Fine. Hypothetically then.” Ethan began.
“There is nothing hypothetical about anything I am telling you.” Rogers proclaimed. “You both bare the Mark of Pandora. I can see its blueprints on you now, even as we speak; its signature is unmistakable once you know what to look for. Like you said, I’m the one with the tattoo that attracts me to crazy shit and this by far ranks as the craziest. Out of the three of you I met today, one of you will open a Box, while the other two will help facilitate its opening.”
“How can you tell?” I asked. “How can you tell which one will do the opening and which one will do the helping?”
“Only those that Fate deems worthy.” John replied.
“What’s the criteria? How is one deemed worthy by Fate?”
“You have to beat Death at its own game. Only the resurrected can open a Box of Pandora.”
“The resurrected.” I repeated to myself.
“You’ve got to die first?” Ethan asked.
“Then come back to life, but yes, you would have to die first.” John Rogers said, looking at the both of us. “You cannot have the one without the other. There is no resurrection without death.”
“Well that counts me out.” Laughed Ethan. “I haven’t…”
“I’ve died once.” I whispered.
“Is that so?” Rogers stroked his beard. “Please, do tell.”
“It was a car accident. Happened just before we moved here.” I took Johns Long Island and drained the glass dry. “They said I was dead for over fifteen minutes.”
“That’s a long time.” Ethan commented.
“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” I closed my eyes, running my fingers through my hair and down my neck. “Aiden was driving. There was a deer. He lost control. A good friend of ours died. I died. I came back. He didn’t.”
“At the party that night, when Aiden asked for the keys...” Ethan was starting to put everything together.
“Yeah, he isn’t allowed to drive anymore. Not by law or anything like that, the Cops confirmed that it wasn’t his fault, but Mom; she banned him from driving, at least for as long as he still lives at home. That’s why it was so odd that they gave him the keys to begin with.”
“I’m sorry about your companion.” John Rogers said suddenly. “I can see you still carry the pain of his death with you, it’s a part of you now.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it. What time is it?” I glanced at my watch and then realized I wasn’t wearing one. “It doesn’t matter, I’m ready to go. I just wanna go home. Ethan?”
“Yeah, it’s cool, let’s roll.” Ethan stood, holding out his hand to John. “Sir, it was awesome to meet you.”
The author stood as well, gripping Ethan’s palm with a sturdy hand shake. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“Madam.” He took my hand and kissed it, very Casablanca like. It was cute. “Wait, before you leave, a promise is a promise.”
John reached into is satchel, digging through the contents before producing two worn, antique looking, leather bound books. He opened one of them and scribbled something inside before handing them to Ethan.
“Ambrosia and Fledging.” The author said. “I’ve included my personal contact number as well. If you need me or have questions about anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to call.”
Ethan took the books from him, flipping through the pages of one manuscript, before he started to grin from ear to ear. “Oh, these are nice! Thanks man.”
I went to leave when John grabbed me by the arm suddenly, his tone deathly serious. “Beware the Forgotten Future for it is about to be rewritten and you my dear, you could very well be its new author. Heed my warning, young woman. The both of you. You may think me a foolish old man, but you both bare the Mark of Pandora. The world as you know it is to change. Prepare for the quiet storm, least you get swept away once the maelstrom arrives.”
John walked off and exited the restaurant without uttering another word.
I looked at Ethan. “Did he just leave without paying the bill?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not staying here to find out.” Ethan took off towards the exit. Before I knew it, he was already in the parking lot. I just shook my head and followed after him.