When the Time Comes

“Wait? What? Did you just tell me you were pregnant?”

“Yes, Mum. Yes, I’m pregnant.”

Kerry tried to wrap her head around it, but the news was just too big. “Are you sure, love?”

“Yes. I’ve seen a doctor. I’m sure.” Eva was trying to keep the smile from sweeping her face, but she could hardly press it down.

She’s so delighted. Kerry felt the skip of her heart, she felt her skin prickle.

And Eva sobered a little. “It’s a girl, Mum.”

“Ah… well, congratulations, love. You’re going to be a perfect mother.”

Eva accepted the hug. She clung a little hard. Then she looked at her mother, meeting her brown eyes as unflinchingly as she could, “Look, I didn’t plan this, and we were being careful, we really were… but…”

“It’s all right. It must be meant to be. Sometimes it is.”

“But you know what this means…”

“Three of us all in one world. Three makes a chain.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry.”

Kerry smiled wryly. Her face hurt. She wasn’t sure if she felt confused or not. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had this discussion before. But she still found herself saying, “so you’ve decided it’s going to be me, then?”

“Well, I can’t take a newborn baby out into the maze, can I?”

“But you’re quite happy to send a little old lady out?” Did she sound petulant? Maybe that would come across petulant.

Maybe, by the way Eva snorted, “A little old lady? Really?”

“I’m not as young as I once was.”

“You’re made of steel and you know it.”

“I’ll never get to meet her, even once.”

Eva sighed, “I know, Mum. There’s no other way.”

#

Kerry sat and looked out the window. She was going to miss this place, the nice smooth roads, the lines of houses. She liked drinking lattes, and watching old movies on TV. She liked kicking back on the couch with a good book. She could barely remember any other kind of life. And now, aged 56, was supposed to start again.

It was the way of the worlds. She knew that. She got that. But she watched Eva’s belly grow, and she felt all kinds of contradictory feelings: she was sad, clucky, proud, scared, a little bit resentful. And she tried to keep that last one at bay, but sometimes it wasn’t easy.

The way Eva glowed. Almost literally. The way the pregnancy brought out all the strength and colour in her. She came visiting every other day, feeling the closeness of this ending, trying to make the best and most of it, lap up the time they had left.

She had ultra-sound pictures and she laid them out on the kitchen table. “Just look at her, she’s so perfect. The sonographer thinks the picture didn’t come out clearly, they’re going to do another one in a month. It won’t make any difference though. She’s glowing in there; she’s bursting with power. She’s going to be amazing.”

“I know she is love.”

“I wish you could get to see her.”

“I do too.”

Eva’s face went snap-serious: “You don’t hate me, do you?”

“No love, no of course not.” She kept trying to mean that. She kept trying not to think: well, how hard is it to take a pill every morning? And what? Did she wish that this granddaughter had never happened? This continuation of her blood and bones, this link that drew the past just a tiny bit into the future.

“You know, there’s only another couple of months…”

“I’m on it.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“No idea. I’ll follow a path. It’s how I came to this world.”

“I don’t know if I could do it.”

“You’ve only lived here. You don’t know any other worlds. I’ve started all over again before, and I will now. Just like I did when I stepped into the mist last time and ended up where I did. It’s just the same.”

“Oh, Mum,” Eva threw a hug around her.

“I’ll contact you if I can.”

“Please. Please try.”

#

Eva loved her. But she’d pretty heavy on the hint. Kerry knew: it was time for her to go.

She put what she could reasonably carry into a pack – but how could she know what she’d need? – repacked a few times, cried for a little while, laced up some sturdy shoes and walked down to the shop.

Jessie Timmons looked her up and down with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

“I’ll mix it up. But this could be dangerous.”

“More so if I don’t.”

“Are you sure the chain reaction would be that bad?”

“Sure? No. But the field is wide open. You know that when they tested the first atomic bomb, they had no idea if it would destroy the world or not?”

“I didn’t. Also: it didn’t.”

“The world can’t get lucky every time.”

“I suppose. I’ll be thinking of you. Hey, I’ve got some charms I can give that might help you out? Would you like them?”

#

They hung around her neck, twinkling in the sun. Kerry drank the potion and walked out into the empty carpark. The area was deathly quiet, all rundown and boarded up. She could hear a car or two passing, and she knew there were some boys playing with skateboards further back along. But there was no-one in immediate sight, no-one to be freaked out or confused. And she could feel the magic taking effect, it was warm in her blood, and she was beginning to see things differently. She looked up at the sky, wondering if her next one was going to be blue or not. Then she watched the world shift, as the TrueSight really kicked in. All of a sudden, super-imposed on this world-among-many, were a honeycomb of tunnels. The were all a bit crooked, all a bit of a mix of colours, and they could take her anywhere – absolutely anywhere – there were no limits. Scared? Well, she was terrified. But she’d been terrified like this before – twice – and each time she’d stepped into a whole new world, she’d found her way there, found love, borne children – seen the prospect of a granddaughter and known that she would have to leave.

She had a picture of Eva in her pocket. She had a picture of the ultra-sound folded against her chest. Those would have to be enough.

Kerry took a breath, chose a tunnel, and stepped inside.

 

Picture credit/discredit: author's own work